Page 26 of The Dark Hiss of Magic
‘He was wearing my lab coat,’ the pathologist interjected. ‘He’d obviously broken in here and was snooping around. He jumped out of the staffroom window before we could stop him. He knocked me down and Ms McCafferty?—’
I interrupted. ‘He was a young man and I’m a middle-aged woman who’s not as fit as she used to be.’ At least both of those things were true. ‘I went after him, but once he’d left the building I knew I couldn’t catch him up.’
‘You don’t know who he was?’ Jackson demanded. ‘You’d never seen him before?’
I felt the same tension and pressure in my temples as I had earlier. ‘Not until yesterday, when I mistook him for Dr Singh.’ Again I was telling the truth – but omitting what I’d learned more recently.
‘Was he a witch?’
‘A druid, I believe,’ Singh answered.
A tiny, inarticulate noise escaped Jackson’s mouth.
‘At least the missing items are only clothes,’ I said, watching the Fetch carefully.
His jaw clenched then he forced himself to relax. ‘Yes. Only clothes. They’re not important.’
‘I hope his parents won’t be too upset at their loss.’
For a brief moment his expression clouded as if he’d entirely forgotten that Rory Taggert’s parents existed. ‘I will explain to them and offer the mortuary’s sincere apologies on your behalf.’
Dr Singh blanched. ‘Please do.’
Jackson looked at me. ‘Thank you again for your concern, Ms McCafferty. It has been a pleasure to meet you.’ He was clearly dismissing me. He started walking towards the door, manoeuvring in such a way as to usher me out.
I considered my options then obliged. ‘Thank you for allowing me to join this meeting,’ I said. ‘I appreciate that the witches’ council has been kind enough to put my worries to rest by including me.’
‘We are here to serve the entire community, not only witches.’ Jackson smiled, baring his teeth. ‘But you are welcome. Let’s walk out together.’
As I looked over my shoulder, my eyes met Dr Singh’s; he was still looking troubled by the loss of Rory Taggert’s clothes. ‘Thank you,’ I said again.
‘Of course.’ The pathologist nodded, then Fetch Daniel Jackson took my elbow and all-but marched me down the hallway.
Ignoring his raised eyebrows and flash of amusement, I retrieved a reluctant He Who Roams Wide from Cindy’s lap. She sniffed her disappointment that my cat wasn’t staying, but, with a Fetch in attendance, she chose to keep her mouth shut.
While he shrugged on his coat and adjusted his cuffs, I slipped out of the front door with He Who Roams Wide by my heels and headed down the street without looking back. I onlyturned to the cat when I was a good distance away and nobody could overhear me. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘that was interesting.’
He Who Roams Wide flicked the tip of his tail and angled his head up to me.
‘That man was a Fetch from the witches’ council,’ I told him.
There was a small miaow.
‘Yep.Thatwitches’ council. The bureaucratic nightmare that serves only witches, and keeps its doors tightly closed against all others. They sent a Fetch to investigate my John Doe, even though he was neither rich nor famous nor powerful – in fact, it appears he was nothing more than a petty criminal. Even more bizarrely, Fetch Jackson let me join in so I could discover that information. That’s quite out of character for someone from the witches’ council, wouldn’t you say?’
He Who Roams Wide miaowed louder.
‘In fact,’ I continued, ‘I’d go so far as to say that he wanted me to learn John Doe’s real name so that I’d stop asking questions and return to my cat-lady cave without so much as a follow-up whimper.’
The cat butted my leg with his head.
I reached up, touched my temples and grimaced. ‘He used a truth spell on me. Twice.’ I sniffed, irritated by the mental intrusion that I obviously hadn’t been expected to notice. ‘And the possessions brought in with the body have mysteriously vanished. Knox Thunderstick didn’t steal them. He wasn’t carrying anything with him when he ran off.’
He Who Roams Wide’s ears twitched.
‘If Fetch Jackson was telling the truth and I can believe that missing persons’ file, John Doe is Rory Taggert. But my questions haven’t been answered. In fact,’ I mused, ‘now I have more.’ A lot more.
The crowdof people in the middle of Coldstream wasn’t He Who Roams Wide’s idea of a good time, so he abandoned me long before I reached Crackendon Square in favour of quieter streets. I didn’t worry about him; he’d find his way home once he was hungry.
