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Soul Harvest (The Rift Chronicles Book 3) Page 6
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“Take a look at this,” Carmelita said, holding out what looked like a professionally printed color brochure.
Harvesting Souls Church. It was the brochure that Reverend Wilding had given Carmelita and me. It had pictures of smiling, singing worshipers—most of them young and good-looking—and a rousing explanation of the church’s philosophy.
“I know that Wilding hands these things out wholesale,” she said, “but I thought it was interesting that Freddy kept it instead of just tossing it as soon as he was out of sight. There was one in Julia’s suitcase, too, and it had a couple of services and events circled.”
“Interesting. Why would Wilding’s church spark an interest in a pair of druggies on the run?”
“Perhaps they feared for their immortal souls.”
I searched her face and saw not a hint of irony. “Perhaps.” A thought struck me. “How much money did we recover?”
Carmelita laughed. “Practically none. The total amount from all of them was about six hundred creds. I’ve already checked all of their bank accounts, and there isn’t enough there to pay their rent.”
That made no sense to me. “How much were the drugs worth?”
“Mychal said probably ten grand wholesale, three or four times that on the street.” Novak had been with the drug squad a lot more recently than I had, and we all respected his expertise.
I thought about what needed to be done. “First thing in the morning, I’m going back over to that house. Call Kevin Goodman and tell him I need one of his magik detectors to meet me there.”
“What are you thinking?” I heard Mychal say from the doorway. I glanced over and saw him leaning against the jamb.
“How does someone like Fast Freddy get hold of ten grand worth of drugs? Rifter drugs?” I asked. Holding up my hand, I ticked the options off my fingers. “He stole them from someone with access to those kinds of drugs who is even stupider than he is.” I held up a second finger. “He bought them. But no one spends every penny they have to buy drugs hoping to sell them. And if he did, where did he get the money?” Third finger. “Someone who is really, really stupid fronted them to him. I find that hardest to believe. Now, that means there is more money or more drugs, or both, somewhere.”
My phone rang, and my immediate reaction was, What now? But for a change, it wasn’t a disaster clamoring for my attention.
“James.”
“Hello,” Aleks said. “How’s your day going?”
“It could be worse, I guess. No one’s nuked us yet, and it’s more than halfway through the day.
He chuckled. “You always have to look on the bright side. Are you going to have time for dinner?”
“You mean go out? Uh, how would you like to come to my house for dinner with Kirsten and Mychal?”
“Sure, that would be okay,” sounding a bit reluctant.
“Did you hear about Trombino’s?” I asked.
The restaurant was permanently closed, with the owner and both managers dead, along with the head chef and most of the staff. So far, the victims we had identified included thirty-four people associated with the restaurant and more than two hundred of their customers. We suspected there were more. Whittaker said it was the largest mass murder he’d ever been involved with.
“No, why?” Aleks asked.
“I’ll tell you about it tonight. Shall we say that I’m not planning on eating out any time soon. Come by about five-thirty, and we’ll take my car.”
That reminded me to call Kirsten and tell her to check all the food she bought. The warning brought a chuckle from her.
“Dani, I always check everything. You do know that most pesticides cause cancer, don’t you? And while the Magi think magik users are immune from viruses, they definitely aren’t immune to bacteria that cause food poisoning.” Another chuckle. “Or to thallium sulfate, I guess. Dani, you’re never going to see a hearth witch poisoned. I mean, what good is magik if you don’t use it? Shrimp all right for dinner?”
Chapter 10
The following morning after I dropped Aleks off at his apartment, I picked up Marsha, the magik detector, at my office, and we drove to Freddy’s house in Arbutus. I had worked with the woman before, and had a lot of confidence in her abilities.
While she wandered around the house and yard looking for magik, I wandered around looking for electronic or mechanical locks or other mechanisms that might help to hide a stash. Neither of us was successful. There was a loose floorboard in Freddy’s closet that revealed a small area where someone might have hidden something, but the space was empty.
Frustrated, we drove back to Police Headquarters. When I walked into the office, Luanne waved me over to her desk.
“Trombino’s computer has a record of two deliveries yesterday morning from Mid-Atlantic Produce. But when I called the company, they said they made only one delivery.”
“I think we have a pattern,” I said. She nodded. “Call the company and tell them that they are now required to put the license number of their trucks on their invoices. Order of Commissioner Whittaker. Also tell them that they need to notify all of their customers to record the license number of all the trucks when they take a delivery.”
Luanne’s forehead wrinkled. “You think that will do anything?”
“It might, if everyone complies. If we can identify the fake delivery truck, we might be able to find it. First, call downstairs and have Julia Danner brought up to interview room two.”
I asked Carmelita to join me, and we took the stairs down one level. Julia awaited us in the interview room.
“Good morning, Julia. How are you feeling?” I put on my most cheerful demeanor because the girl looked so miserable. She was obviously hung over and needed a shower and a hairbrush. Probably a toothbrush as well.
“Why am I here? Am I under arrest?”
“Possibly. We found you in a house full of illegal drugs. Tell me about thallium sulfate.”
She stiffened, and a trace of panic flitted across her face. “I want a lawyer. I want to call my father.”
“Ms. Stolnikova told me that you were conducting experiments combining chemistry and magik. Is that correct?”
Julia pouted, staring at me with an ugly expression. I sighed.
“Girl, let me explain your situation. No lawyers, and no courts. Do you know what a Magisterial Tribunal is? Your father is dead, along with your mother, brother, and sister. You are suspected of murdering them, which is a crime against the Hundred. A life sentence in Antarctica. Understand? You’d better use what’s left of your brain and start talking to me.”
At first, she showed no reaction to what I said. Carmelita and I sat silently and watched her. After a minute or two, her mind started working.
“What do you mean, my family is dead?”
“Poisoned. Now, tell me what you know about thallium sulfate.”
She fainted. I rushed around the table and caught her as she fell out of her chair, and laid her gently on the floor.
“Well, that was certainly an interesting reaction,” Carmelita said. “I guess she hadn’t heard the news.”
“We’ve been keeping it quiet. It certainly seems as though she didn’t know. Call medical and let’s transfer her to a more psychologically comforting environment. I’ll call Ruth Harrison to evaluate her.”
When Julia woke from her faint, she was shaky and dazed. A couple of EMTs came and got her, taking her to a holding area used for people with psych problems.
“What now?” Carmelita asked.
“Let’s go talk to Freddy.”
University Hospital was a short walk from Police Headquarters. It had a wing devoted to holding prisoners, including a special section in the basement for holding magikal prisoners.
“Broken fibula and tibia,” the doctor on duty told us. “Multiple lacerations requiring stitches, and some bruises. Nothing life threatening.”
“Has he received any medication?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing for the p
ain. As high as he was when he came in here, I’m not sure he could feel much at all.”
“Hi, Freddy,” I said when we entered the room. His panicked expression told me that he remembered Carmelita and me. I found that rather gratifying.
His left leg was in a cast up to his crotch, and he had several bandages visible on his head, face, and arms. His long hair and beard were gone. I assumed they had to shave him to stitch him up.
“That was quite a stash of drugs we found,” I said as I pulled up a chair and sat down. “Astropene, quararg, nesforl, magikally enhanced cannabis, methamphetamine. You’re a regular supermarket. You probably make pretty good money selling all that crap at the various universities here in town. But that’s over now. You’re going away for a long stretch. The only questions are how long and where. So, ready to tell me where you’re getting the Rifter drugs?”
He didn’t respond.
“Okay, let’s try another topic. Tell me about thallium sulfate.”
That got a reaction. He still didn’t say anything, but he looked ready to jump out of another window. Not an option in a basement.
“Was it your idea to poison Julia’s family? Or was it hers?”
“I didn’t poison anyone. Neither did she.”
“Really? It’s just a coincidence that she whipped up a batch of magikally camouflaged poison, and her whole family happened to swallow it the day she ran away to play kissy face with you? Freddy, Freddy. Come on. Tell me something I might believe.”
Carmelita had been standing in the background. She sauntered over, leaned forward, and said, “If you really are innocent, then you won’t mind accompanying Julia when her uncle comes to collect her. I’m sure the Danner Family head will be fascinated by tales of your adventures with his niece.”
It took a few moments for what she said to filter through his addled mind, but watching his face, I could tell when it did.
I heaved myself to my feet. “Screw this. I’ll bring a truthsayer and some visolin tonight and find out what he knows. He’s not using his brain anyway.”
Visolin was another cross-rift drug that demons used as a mild sedative. But no human would use it for pleasure. It was illegal for all uses, since it basically turned a human brain into jelly and the person into a mindless husk. I didn’t even know where to find any, and the chances that Whittaker or the Council would okay me administering it to Freddy were zero. But he didn’t know that.
We started to walk out. Carmelita was already in the hall when Freddy called out. “Wait!”
I turned around. “For what? You’re boring me, and I have things to do.”
“She had nothing to do with it.”
I shrugged. “And how do you know that? Because you did?”
“No! It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh? Then perhaps you should tell me what it was like.”
He shook his head violently and blurted, “Reina will kill me.”
I smiled. “I assume you mean Reina de LaCosta? Don’t worry about her. She and I are old friends, but I promise not to tell her where I picked up any juicy gossip you tell me.”
“And if you don’t tell us,” Carmelita said, “you still won’t have to worry about her. Even Reina can’t reach you in Antarctica. Or wherever Ralph Danner buries you.”
His eyes flicked wildly back and forth between the two of us. I wondered if he’d been smarter before all the drugs. He seemed to make a decision, and let his breath out in a whoosh.
“Look, Julia made the stuff, but it was just a chemistry experiment at school. She gave me some of it to get rid of the rats at my house. Worked like a charm.” He took a deep breath. “I happened to mention it to a friend, and he told Reina. She showed up at a party we were at one night and pulled Julia outside to talk. Afterward, she told me that she would trade dope for a quantity of the stuff.”
Interesting. “How much quantity? And that still doesn’t tell me how it got into the food at Julia’s house.”
“I dunno. Honest, I had nothing to do with that. I didn’t even know her parents got poisoned. Reina gave us the lab equipment, and I traded her twenty-five pounds. Ten kilos.”
“But you knew Julia’s family were dead.”
“Yeah, but not how. The media report I saw didn’t say.”
“Who was the HLA friend you told about the poison?”
Freddy didn’t miss a beat or deny his friend was HLA. “Mark Clifford. He lives in Tacoma Park.” Freddy rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “Shit, how am I going to explain this to Julia?”
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. You’re never going to see her again. You’ll be going from here to a Magisterial Tribunal, and then to prison. I’ll put in a good word for you, so it’ll probably be the Yukon instead of Antarctica. Enjoy.”
Chapter 11
“Susan Reed.” Carmelita spat out the name like a curse. “Damn that woman. I swear, if I get her in my sights again, I’m pulling the trigger.”
We walked back to Police Headquarters, and the instant I stepped into the office, Luanne jumped up and came toward us.
“You know that Mid-Atlantic Produce truck you wanted to identify? The company reported one of their trucks stolen.”
“When?” I asked.
“A few weeks ago. It was making deliveries out in the Gettysburg area. Truck disappeared, and the driver was found dead.”
Carmelita and I looked at each other.
“That explains how Crozier and Susan got from Gettysburg back to the Metroplex,” Carmelita said.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t make it any easier to find the truck. I doubt it still has the same license plate,” I said. “That license plate is probably on a truck from a completely different company. Luanne, who owns Mid-Atlantic Produce?”
“The Benning Family.”
One of the Hundred, and a Family with recent tragedy of its own. Justus Benning, the Family head, had recently been assassinated and his wife wounded. Before that, their daughter had been kidnapped and sold into slavery. My investigation into her disappearance had set off the events leading to the Council War.
I stepped out into the bullpen and called Mychal, who kept far better track of the affairs of the Magi than I did.
“Who inherited at Benning?”
“Devon Benning, a younger brother, but word is that Justus’s widow is the one actually in charge. Devon is about our age.”
Diana Benning wasn’t much older. But I knew her, and she had a brain, unlike so many of the Magi’s trophy wives. She was also an empath, which probably helped in business negotiations.
“Has she recovered?” I asked.
Mychal shrugged. “I haven’t seen her, but I heard that she’s back in public.”
I mused for a few moments. “I’ll stop by and see her on my way home tonight. Maybe we can figure out a way to identify that missing truck. For now, though, I want to go see how Julia Danner is doing. Carmelita, see if you can locate a Mark Clifford in Tacoma Park.”
Before I visited Julia, I called Dr. Ruth Harrison, police psychiatrist and magik detector.
“How’s she doing?” I asked.
“Fairly disoriented,” was Ruth’s reply. “She’s been smoking magikally enhanced cannabis—rather heavily—for some time now. And the news that her family is all dead hit her hard. She’s having a hard time distinguishing reality from whatever fantasyland she’s been living in.”
“Is there any point in me talking to her?” I asked. “I really do need to know some things about the poison she concocted, and if she’s played with any more exotics. Ruth, that stuff fell into absolutely the wrong hands.”
After a couple of moments of silence, I heard a sigh. “I’ll be right over.”
While I waited for Ruth to drive downtown, I looked over Carmelita’s shoulder while she searched for Mark Clifford on the computer. He wasn’t hard to find. Our records showed that he was a sociology instructor at the University of Maryland, teaching classes at both the College Park and Catonsville ca
mpuses. Some quick cross-referencing revealed that Susan Reed and Alfred Wallace had both taken a class with him, although at different times.
Among his academic publications I noted one on Marxism, another one on the HLA, and another one on wealth inequality since the Rift War.
“Magik?” I asked.
Carmelita shook her head. “Nothing in the databases.”
I pointed to a line on the screen. “Can’t always trust what’s in the computer. Especially for people born that long ago.”
“Oh. Right.”
According to the computer, Mark Clifford was one hundred thirty-six years old. He was born before the Rift War. In fact, he had graduated university before the Rift War. To my knowledge, only magik users lived that long.
Ruth came up to my office, and I called the jail to have Julia Danner taken to an interview room.
“Have you had enough time with her to do an initial evaluation?” I asked Ruth as we took the stairs down.
“Not really. Between the drugs and the trauma, she’s not really here. What do you know about her before all this happened?”
I filled Ruth in on what we had pieced together from our interviews.
“So, you had her in your sights as the possible murderer?” she asked when I finished.
“Yeah. I mean, there are a lot of chemicals she could experiment with. Why a compound known as the poisoner’s poison? It’s not that easy to get hold of. I’m still waiting on our forensics team to see what else she was playing with in that lab.”
Ruth shook her head. “She’s barely seventeen, very sheltered and naïve. I’m not seeing it. I mean, the first thing she did when you pulled her in was ask for her daddy.”
“I’m not saying she’s a ruthless murderer, but how many teenagers—at one time or another—wished their parents were dead? They think with their emotions more often than with their brains.”
“True.”