Chapter 6

‘Trying to knock some sense into yourself?’ she asked derisively.

Charming. I straightened up. ‘Liv, how lovely—’

She held up a hand to silence me. ‘Is he in his office?’

‘Yup.’ Poor schmuck.

She swept to Gunnar’s office like she owned the place – and I wasn’t about to stop her. The whole place warmed a degree or two as she left a hot desert wind in her wake; it was creepy as fuck. Even Fluffy laid down as low and flat as he could. I put a hand down to pat him. ‘I know,’ I murmured. ‘She’s scary.’

Shadow chose that moment to leap onto my lap, presumably to view the scary woman. I ran my hand over his silky fur. He had grown a little, and his smoky coat was glossy and his golden eyes bright. I rubbed his ears and he burst into a raspy purr; I’d been forgiven for my temporary abandonment. He stayed on my lap as I did the glamorous job of filling out the reports about the theft and contacting the protestors to make appointments for them to come in.

As I worked, I heard Liv’s raised voice arguing with Gunnar. Half the time she was trying to tempt him into a tumultuous affair, the other half she was all pointy and sharp. She confused me, but no way was I going to confront her about it. She was a necromancer and I was undead – or at least mostly so.

She stormed out about ten minutes later without so much as a glance at me. I put Shadow down to snuggle down with Fluffy and went to find out what she had wanted. Gunnar was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands, looking tired.

‘You survived her then?’ I only half-joked.

He looked up at me. ‘Only just. She wants my head on a pike.’

‘A pike? Is that an Alaskan thing?’

He laughed. ‘No – here we shoot you. I thought it was an English thing. You know, the Tower of London and such?’

I grinned. ‘Oh, sure. We’re hardcore like that in London. You can’t look around Tower Bridge without seeing a head on a pike.’

‘I know you’re joking, but it would add a certain something to the atmosphere.’

‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘The smell of rotting flesh.’

He wrinkled his nose. ‘Good point. Okay, no heads on pikes.’

‘Glad we’re in agreement. So what did Liv want?’

‘She’s worried that someone will go after the other gems. If they do, we’re in real danger of the barrier failing and then we’ll all be screwed.’

The barrier failing was my worst nightmare and I shivered as I vividly recalled the thing that lived beyond it. ‘Stan is worried about the same thing. Connor has already called extra security measures. Maybe that will be enough.’

‘Maybe, but I’m calling in the heads of all the supernatural council members for a private meeting. If we force them to put more security in place, we’ll set some minds at ease. While I do that, can you deal with the protestors? Interview them and eliminate anyone with solid alibis?’

‘Yeah, can do.’

We had names and numbers for close to thirty protesters now that Stan had identified the last few and I’d already set up appointments with a lot of them. I returned to my desk and called the rest, making notes for Sidnee about any I couldn’t get hold of so she could chase them during her shift. Some of them might keep to a daytime routine; that was rare in Portlock, but it was possible.

Once I’d finished, I went to the evidence locker. I didn’t want to risk contaminating the evidence but I looked carefully at the barrier tape through the clear bag it was sealed in, even putting it under a desk light and looking at it with a magnifying glass. After I’d had a good look, I’d ship it to the lab for them to examine.

Kostas had dark hair, which was most of what I could see on the tape. I spotted a few short grey hairs that could be from a pet. I was intimately familiar with that since I was currently living with a growing kitten and a large, shaggy dog.

And that was when I spotted a long, nearly colourless strand of hair that was definitely too long for a house pet, unless it was something like a yak. Did people keep yaks as pets in Alaska? The hair was at least a foot long, maybe even two. It was impossible to tell without taking it out of the protective bag.

I cast my mind back. I’d seen a few Portlock inhabitants with very long hair, but the only one I had a name for was young Aoife Sullivan who had called in a fisheye deal to the hotline. The likelihood of the Goth teen being involved seemed slim but I made a note to check her out if the lab found out something useful on the hair. Having a root on a hair sample was rare and without it we couldn’t get a DNA match, but even without it the lab could at least tell us if the hair came from a male or female. It wasn’t much but it was something.

Now I needed to check whether the hair was there by means fair or foul. I dialled the fire witch’s number. ‘Hello?’ Kostas answered, his tone reserved.

‘Hi, this is Bunny from the Nomo’s office. I need to verify some information.’

‘Sure, anything if it’ll help.’

‘You live alone?’

‘Yeah, it’s me.’

‘Do you have a pet?’

‘Yes, my familiar. A grey cat.’

I doodled a cat on my notepad. That was the short grey hair most likely taken care of – but the long one? ‘That’s very helpful. Can I ask how long you have lived there?’

‘My whole life. My parents raised me in this house,’ Kostas replied.

Damn: it could be the hair of an elderly family member. ‘Are they still alive?’

‘No, they were both killed in a plane wreck when I was a teen.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ I said. As calm as I sounded, excitement was fizzing in my gut. The long hair really might be a clue. ‘Do you have any friends who come round to your place with long blond or grey hair?’

‘No, I told you. I don’t invite people round to my house.’ There was a beat then he asked suspiciously, ‘Why?’

‘I’m trying to identify some hair I found at the scene. I’m sending it to the lab but it would be good to have some information in advance. Thank you for your time.’

‘No worries.’ We ended the call.

If Kostas didn’t have visitors, or elderly long-haired parents, this strand of hair could be the thief’s! I finally had a clue. Portlock couldn’t have that many people with long pale hair…

Surely this was going to be easy!