Page 37 of Mystic Justice
Kate was staying overnight in one of their secure flats, which meant she couldn’t conduct the unidentified centaur’s autopsyuntil later in the afternoon after she returned to the Other. If she tried to do the autopsy while she was in Common, all she’d see would be a normal horse and she certainly wouldn’t see any runes. Waiting to start was the sensible move but the waiting frustrated me; it meant a further delay on ID’ing our centaur, John Stallion.
‘What’s up?’ Krieg asked.
‘Dr Potter has to recharge.’ I sighed. ‘She’ll be out of commission for most of today.’
‘Can’t be helped,’ he said diplomatically.
‘No, but it’s a pain. The first twenty-four hours on a case are the “golden hours” when the case is as hot as it’s going to get. We’re already in that twenty-four hours for the centaur and we’re stuck without a name, a witness or a motive. And I’m still waiting on toxicology on Moss Hollings. The kidnappers gave her some sort of healing potion. Some potions are rarer than others and if we can pin down what type they used, it might give us something else to run down.’
He studied me. ‘You’re good at this.’
‘Police work?’ I said, amused. ‘It’s my job.’
‘It’s more than a job to you.’
He wasn’t wrong, so I didn’t deny it. The job I’d taken to help me find Dad’s killer had morphed into my raison d’être. Every criminal I locked up or eliminated was one less threat to the innocent. Some days it felt like whack-a-mole but most days it felt good to make a difference to the world, one wrong ’un at a time. However, the fact that I knew no more about Dad’s death than when I’d joined was a constant source of irritation to me, like a burr under my skin.
‘Thackeray has set up a new Other-only police unit. Unit 13. I’m heading it.’
‘Congratulations, Inspector.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Who’s working under you?’
When I reeled off the team’s names, his face revealed nothing. ‘You remember Elvira Garcia?’ I asked.
‘Yes of course,’ he said flatly. ‘She’s the new Stone.’
‘Well, perhaps not anymore. She’s part of Unit 13 now.’
‘Some other poor bastard will become the Executioner,’ Krieg growled.
‘No doubt.’
After a pause he asked, ‘So, we’re in the field today? What are we doing?’
‘First we need to speak to Ji-ho Lee, our tech whizz, and see if he’s finished reviewing the CCTV footage I requested from Kassandra Scholes’ coven. Come on.’
I had barely sipped at the can, so I picked it up to take it with me. I led Krieg through the warren that was Chester station to one of the back rooms where our tech team lived.
Ji-ho was alone in the tech office, K-pop blaring out of his phone. He was sitting cross-legged on his desk chair, shoes kicked off, mouthing lyrics while he studied his computer. His dark hair flopped into his eyes as he moved to the frenetic beat and he absently pushed his sleek locks back with a pen. The air smelled of ground coffee, no doubt due to the monster coffee machine that he’d brought in especially for the office. Apparently he had a matching machine at home; in his view, eight hours was too long to spend with shit coffee.
‘Hey, Ji-ho.’
He swivelled on his chair and gave me a wide smile. ‘Shirlylock! You here to chase me? You wound me. I’m on it!’ His eyes passed curiously over Krieg. ‘Who are you?’ he asked, without a hint of trepidation. To be fair, he was in the bowels of a police station and this deep in you’d only expect to see the good guys.
‘Krieg,’ my companion grunted shortly.
Ji-ho’s eyes widened. ‘As in the actual mother-effing King of the Ogres?’
In the face of his enthusiasm, some of Krieg’s stiffness faded away and he nodded. ‘One and the same.’
‘Cool,’ Ji-ho breathed. ‘Royalty.’ He eyed me. ‘Rumour says you’ve gone up in the world but I didn’t realise you were boning royalty.’
I folded my arms. ‘We’re not boning.’
‘Yet,’ Krieg added unhelpfully. I glared at him and he grinned back unrepentantly.
