Chapter 27

 

Cassie was unsure how much she believed. Even having seen the hollowed, she clung to the idea that there was a more conventional explanation. If it was all a lie, she might be able to arrest someone and prove in court what had happened. If it was all true, she doubted any of this would get to court. She didn’t want to learn that the law didn’t cover the way the world really worked.

She might be losing it. The pressure was getting to her. She’d made some notes of the encounters, anyway, just in case they were needed, though she doubted she’d ever share them with anyone. Except possibly the shrink she might soon need. Writing it down didn’t exorcise the thoughts.

She sat at her desk, staring at the screen, taking little in, and wondering what the point was.

Euclidean and the alleged splinter cults seemed to believe it was true. Even if it wasn’t, that gave her a basis to understand their actions. These artifacts, whether they possessed supernatural abilities or not, were the MacGuffin at the centre of this mess. That made it all a matter of greed, the value of the objects defined in the minds of the involved parties. Greed was a motive she could understand. It gave a kind of structure to the case, and if she could keep their absurd beliefs out of the way, it might permit a prosecution.

A search for Evangeline Dubois found nothing in police records, or on Google. Property records said she’d lived at her current address for over a decade, so presumably living a quiet life.

Financial records would require a warrant to access, and she didn’t have enough to explain the need. It might take time to find her records before a decade ago, because there was little she could easily locate. Maybe Dubois had changed her name after leaving the Euclideans. Not that any of this added to the reliability of her statement, and as a witness she wouldn’t be of much use to a prosecution. Cassie’s career had made it perfectly clear that prosecutions were all that mattered. Justice was an ideal, and not a widely shared one. At a certain rank it was put away as a childish thing.

It was possible that the stress of the past few days might be getting to her. It would be understandable. Getting caught in a gunfight was bad enough, but another couple of tense situations had kept her adrenaline spiking too often.

Cassie shook herself free of the ennui, then checked the tracking app she’d loaded onto Bancroft’s phone. It was active, and matched the location of the car tracker. How long he’d keep the burner was a problem. A check of the address showed he was at Tyrell’s offices - reporting in to his masters.

There was no point worrying what he’d report about her. His employers were unlikely to believe what Dubois had told them. Bancroft would have to cherry-pick the facts for his audience as much as she did. And spending time with a cop not on their payroll would be safer to omit than explain. She hoped.

Harry sat at his desk. ‘Oversleep?’

‘Yeah,’ she said, though she no doubt looked like she could do with more. She considered sharing what she’d learned when she had gotten her head around it. When they were somewhere they couldn’t be overheard. ‘You meet with your CI?’

‘Yeah. Nothing yet, but I’m meeting him again. Might have something then.’

‘That would be nice.’

Harry grunted. ‘Ballistics came back on the gun that killed Minetti. The piece was used for a robbery a few years ago, but nothing since, and no leads. Could have passed through a few hands in the meantime.’

‘And was probably dumped after the job.’

‘Yeah,’ said Harry. ‘Nothing else from forensics on the crime scene - or too much to know what’s relevant.’

‘So no leads to follow.’

‘And none of Minetti’s colleagues seem to know anyone who’d have wanted to do that to them. Seems like he must have been a helluva guy. That ain’t how I recall him.’

‘Are you saying you might have been inclined to kill him?’

‘Damn cops. You’ll twist a guy’s words against him.’

‘I’m desperate for a break in this case.’

‘You look more bored than desperate.’

She shrugged. ‘Maybe restless. Feels like we’ve got too much information and not enough facts. Only a few leads that’ll be anything more than busywork.’

‘That’s the job. Follow all the leads, even the ones that look pointless, until one shows you something new.’

She stared at him. ‘That’s unusually lacking in cynicism.’

Harry glared. ‘My partner’s getting increasingly morose and stealing my lines, forcing me to be the optimistic one. I feel soiled. Please let me have my role back.’

Cassie gave a faint smile. ‘I don’t know that I can be bothered. Ask me again after we waste the shift getting nowhere.’ She rose and grabbed her coat.

‘Maybe we’ll get lucky.’ He followed suit, then hesitated. ‘Look what you’ve done to me. It just ain’t right.’