Bloodfever
Page 13
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I told you. He was working on my sisters case.
And when did you see him last?
I told you that, too. Yesterday morning. He stopped by the bookstore.
Why did he stop by the bookstore?
Oh, for heavens sake, I told you that, too. To tell me hed reviewed her case and there was still no new evidence and that he was sorry but it was going to have to stay closed.
Do you expect me to believe Inspector ODuffy, who incidentally has a lovely wife and three children he takes to church every Sunday, followed by brunch with his in-lawsa family outing hes missed only four times in the past fifteen years, and then for funeralsbypassed that in favor of making an early morning, personal visit to the sister of a deceased murder victim to tell her an already closed case was staying closed?
Well, fudge-buckets. Even I was gripped by the illogic in that.
Why didnt he use the phone?
I shrugged.
My interrogator, Inspector Jayne, waved the two officers flanking the door from the room. He pushed up from the table and circled it, stopping behind me. I could feel him back there, staring down at me. I was acutely aware of the ancient stolen spear tucked into my boot, inside the leg of my jeans. If they charged and searched me, I was in big trouble.
Youre an attractive young woman, Ms. Lane.
Point?
Was there something going on between you and Inspector ODuffy?
Oh, please! Do you really think hes my type?
Was, Ms. Lane. Do I think he was your type. Hes dead.
I glared up at the Garda looming over me, trying to use dominant body posture to intimidate me. He didnt know how bad my day had already been, or that there wasnt much in the human world that frightened me anymore. Are you going to arrest me or not?
His wife said hed been distracted lately. Worried. Not eating. She had no idea why. You know?
No. I told you that, too. Half a dozen times now. How many more times do we have to go over this? I sounded like a bad actor in a worse movie.
He did, too. As many times as I say we have to. Lets take it from the beginning. Tell me again about the first time you saw him here at the station.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
Open your eyes and answer the question.
I opened my eyes and stared daggers up at him. I still couldnt believe ODuffy was dead. Royally screwing up my world, hed had his throat cut holding a scrap of paper with my name and the address of the bookstore written on it. It hadnt taken long for his brothers inwell, not exactly arms, the Dublin police dont carry gunsto come looking for me. Id spent themorning battling Shades and a death-by-sex Fae, discovered something monstrous lived beneath Barrons garage right behind my bedroom, and now I was in the police station being interrogated on suspicion of murder. Could my day get any worse? Oh, theyd not pressed formal charges, but theyd sure used scare tactics on me back at the bookstore, making them think they were. And theyd made it clear theyd jump on any reason they could find to back me up against a wall and start snapping mug shots. I was a stranger in this city, nearly all the answers I gave sounded evasive because they were evasive, and ODuffys Sunday morning visit to me really did look suspicious.
I repeated the story Id told an hour ago, and an hour before that and an hour before that. He asked the same questions he and two men before him had asked, all morning and a good part of the afternoontheyd let me stew for forty-five minutes while they went to lunch and came back smelling scrumptiously of vinegary fish and chipsphrased in minutely different ways, all designed to trip me up. The caffeine from my chilled latte had worn off hours ago and I was starving.
On one level, I could appreciate what Inspector Jayne was doing; it was his job, he was doing it very well, and it was obvious Patrick ODuffy had been his friend. I hoped theyd done the same for Alina. On another level, it infuriated me. My problems were so much bigger than this. It was an epic waste of my time. Not only that, I felt exposed. With the exception of my trip across the back alley this morning, I hadnt set foot outside of the bookstore since Id seen what Id seen in the warehouse at 1247 LaRuhe a week ago. I felt like a walking target with a bulls-eye painted on my forehead. Did the Lord Master know where to find me? How high was I on his list of priorities? Was he still wherever hed gone when hed stepped through that portal? Was he watching the bookstore? Did he have his Rhino-boys, those watchdogs of the Faethe lower caste of enormous, ugly, gray-skinned Unseelie with wide, squat, barrel-bodies, jutting underbites, and bumpy foreheadswaiting to grab me the moment I walked out of the police station by myself? Should I try to get myself formally arrested? I discarded that thought the instant I had it. Humans couldnt keep me alive. I blinked, startled to realize I no longer quite counted myself in that camp.
He was my brother-in-law, he said abruptly.
I winced.
Assuming you had nothing to do with his murder, I still have to find a way to tell my sister what the fuck he was doing with you the morning he died, he said bitterly. So what the fuck was he doing, Ms. Lane? Because we both know your storys bullshit. Patty didnt miss Mass. Patty didnt follow up on cases on his personal time. Patty stayed alive because Patty loved his family.
And when did you see him last?
I told you that, too. Yesterday morning. He stopped by the bookstore.
Why did he stop by the bookstore?
Oh, for heavens sake, I told you that, too. To tell me hed reviewed her case and there was still no new evidence and that he was sorry but it was going to have to stay closed.
Do you expect me to believe Inspector ODuffy, who incidentally has a lovely wife and three children he takes to church every Sunday, followed by brunch with his in-lawsa family outing hes missed only four times in the past fifteen years, and then for funeralsbypassed that in favor of making an early morning, personal visit to the sister of a deceased murder victim to tell her an already closed case was staying closed?
Well, fudge-buckets. Even I was gripped by the illogic in that.
Why didnt he use the phone?
I shrugged.
My interrogator, Inspector Jayne, waved the two officers flanking the door from the room. He pushed up from the table and circled it, stopping behind me. I could feel him back there, staring down at me. I was acutely aware of the ancient stolen spear tucked into my boot, inside the leg of my jeans. If they charged and searched me, I was in big trouble.
Youre an attractive young woman, Ms. Lane.
Point?
Was there something going on between you and Inspector ODuffy?
Oh, please! Do you really think hes my type?
Was, Ms. Lane. Do I think he was your type. Hes dead.
I glared up at the Garda looming over me, trying to use dominant body posture to intimidate me. He didnt know how bad my day had already been, or that there wasnt much in the human world that frightened me anymore. Are you going to arrest me or not?
His wife said hed been distracted lately. Worried. Not eating. She had no idea why. You know?
No. I told you that, too. Half a dozen times now. How many more times do we have to go over this? I sounded like a bad actor in a worse movie.
He did, too. As many times as I say we have to. Lets take it from the beginning. Tell me again about the first time you saw him here at the station.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
Open your eyes and answer the question.
I opened my eyes and stared daggers up at him. I still couldnt believe ODuffy was dead. Royally screwing up my world, hed had his throat cut holding a scrap of paper with my name and the address of the bookstore written on it. It hadnt taken long for his brothers inwell, not exactly arms, the Dublin police dont carry gunsto come looking for me. Id spent themorning battling Shades and a death-by-sex Fae, discovered something monstrous lived beneath Barrons garage right behind my bedroom, and now I was in the police station being interrogated on suspicion of murder. Could my day get any worse? Oh, theyd not pressed formal charges, but theyd sure used scare tactics on me back at the bookstore, making them think they were. And theyd made it clear theyd jump on any reason they could find to back me up against a wall and start snapping mug shots. I was a stranger in this city, nearly all the answers I gave sounded evasive because they were evasive, and ODuffys Sunday morning visit to me really did look suspicious.
I repeated the story Id told an hour ago, and an hour before that and an hour before that. He asked the same questions he and two men before him had asked, all morning and a good part of the afternoontheyd let me stew for forty-five minutes while they went to lunch and came back smelling scrumptiously of vinegary fish and chipsphrased in minutely different ways, all designed to trip me up. The caffeine from my chilled latte had worn off hours ago and I was starving.
On one level, I could appreciate what Inspector Jayne was doing; it was his job, he was doing it very well, and it was obvious Patrick ODuffy had been his friend. I hoped theyd done the same for Alina. On another level, it infuriated me. My problems were so much bigger than this. It was an epic waste of my time. Not only that, I felt exposed. With the exception of my trip across the back alley this morning, I hadnt set foot outside of the bookstore since Id seen what Id seen in the warehouse at 1247 LaRuhe a week ago. I felt like a walking target with a bulls-eye painted on my forehead. Did the Lord Master know where to find me? How high was I on his list of priorities? Was he still wherever hed gone when hed stepped through that portal? Was he watching the bookstore? Did he have his Rhino-boys, those watchdogs of the Faethe lower caste of enormous, ugly, gray-skinned Unseelie with wide, squat, barrel-bodies, jutting underbites, and bumpy foreheadswaiting to grab me the moment I walked out of the police station by myself? Should I try to get myself formally arrested? I discarded that thought the instant I had it. Humans couldnt keep me alive. I blinked, startled to realize I no longer quite counted myself in that camp.
He was my brother-in-law, he said abruptly.
I winced.
Assuming you had nothing to do with his murder, I still have to find a way to tell my sister what the fuck he was doing with you the morning he died, he said bitterly. So what the fuck was he doing, Ms. Lane? Because we both know your storys bullshit. Patty didnt miss Mass. Patty didnt follow up on cases on his personal time. Patty stayed alive because Patty loved his family.
