5th Pentagram: The sequel to the #1 Hard Boiled Mystery, 9th Circle (Book 3 of the Darc Murders Trilogy) (Book 3 of the Darc Murder Series) (10 page)

Moving in closer to hear the conversation, Mala kept Janey behind her on the opposite side of the man. Maybe Satanists were just like anyone else, but this one was giving her the screaming heebie-jeebies.

“Took you two long enough,” the Satanist yawned.

Trey pounced on that. “So you were expecting us?”

Edward Hoffman leveled a withering look at the poor detective. “I read the news. I’ve heard about the murders. Doesn’t take a genius to take a look at a pentagram and leap straight to Satanists.”

“Well, you have to admit, they totally look like something straight out of
The Exorcist
,” Trey responded.

“Yeah. ‘Cause Hollywood
never
gets it wrong,” Edward said, his tone caustic. He turned his head and caught sight of Janey, who had moved out from behind Mala in spite of all of her efforts to keep the little girl behind her. “A little late for you, isn’t it, sweetheart?” He glanced at Mala and winked at her. “How very irresponsible of you. I’m impressed.”

Mala ducked her head, her face darkening. She was getting dinged left and right out here. A compliment from a worshipper of Lucifer had the opposite effect of what was said. Which she was sure Edward understood.

Trey stepped back in. The way he was behaving toward the High Priest seemed to indicate that the man’s very existence was offensive to the detective on every level.

“I don’t understand how anyone could
worship
Satan. I mean, the guy’s pure evil.”

“Look, I’m not a theistic Satanist,” Edward answered. “Most of us aren’t. Only a few of the more obvious nut jobs here are, and even they aren’t stupid enough to slaughter someone and slap them in a pentagram. It’s like pointing a gun at your own head.” He paused, apparently thinking that through. “Actually, I wouldn’t put that past a few of these idiots.”

“What’s a theistic Satanist?”

Darc spoke, his tone deep and piercing. “They are those who worship Satan as an actual supernatural being. Atheistic or agnostic Satanists venerate Satan as an allegorical ideal toward which they aspire.”

Edward’s eyes widened and he nodded at that. “Nice to meet someone who seems to know what they’re talking about.”

“Yeah, he’s a pain in the butt like that,” Trey muttered to himself.

“We use Satan as a guideline. We follow the five Satanic virtues,” Edward continued. “Selfishness, laziness, insolence, lustfulness and vanity.”

“Just the kind of people you want to take home to meet Mom.” The skeptical detective appeared unimpressed with Edward’s list.

“If your mother was an intelligent, free-thinking woman, then yes.”

“Are you really insulting my mother?” Trey demanded.

“Let me explain,” Edward said, sneering at Trey. “I’ll put it in simple terms so that
everyone
can understand.”

Mala held out a hand to restrain the enthusiastic detective as his face turned bright red. Trey getting into a fistfight with a Satan worshipper would make a great byline for some enterprising journalist. And that wouldn’t help the case any.

The High Priest continued. “Selfishness is the idea that the greater good can never be served by self-inflicted misery. We reject sacrifice.”

“Well, that’s just—” Trey began.

Edward cut him short, ticking off his fingers as he went down the rest of the list. “Laziness is another way of saying that we loathe fruitless hard work. Insolence means we challenge authority. No outside power will take away our dignity and freedom. Lustfulness is just following our desires and passions without guilt.”

“That’s great. You’ve made the cardinal sins into a joke,” Trey said. “I don’t see how you’re going to explain away vanity, though. That’s just pride, dude.”

“Exactly,
dude
,” he confirmed. “Pride in our beauty, our majesty, our magic. We see the good in us and choose to nurture it, rather than wallow in false modesty and self-loathing.”

Was it just Mala, or did that all actually make a strange kind of sense? Was it possible that there was more to Satanism than she had thought? She shook her head.

“Fine. Whatever,” Trey groused. “But what about all the pentagrams? You can’t tell me that there’s no link here between you guys and the murders. I mean, come on.”

The Satanist smirked. “No, I can’t. No more than you can say that there’s no link between the murders and the Christian faith. After all, they used pentagrams before we did. It represented the five senses, or the five wounds of Christ.”

“What? That’s… no… that can’t be true,” Trey sputtered, glancing at Darc for confirmation. Darc nodded once. “Really? Sonofa…”

Mala stepped in at that point. “It’s been used by Christians, agnostics, the occult, Satanists, Freemasons, Mormons. It’s a very old and very powerful symbol.”

“Yes it is,” Edward agreed, turning his gaze on her. His eyes seemed to smolder as he maintained eye contact. “It’s a representation of the Golden Ratio.”

Trey looked back and forth between Darc, Mala and Edward. Mala felt bad for him. He always seemed to be a beat or two behind the conversation.

“What the hell are you talking about? And how come everyone here seems to know it but me?”

Edward shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t help that you’re ignorant. Each of the segments of the star is related to another segment from the same star, with the ratio always ending up
phi,
or approximately 1.618. It’s a ratio that’s found everywhere in nature, so it’s considered divine geometry.”

Trey shook his head and kept muttering to himself.

“We are here to discuss your alibis for the murders,” Darc said to Edward.

Edward chuckled. “I don’t have any.”

“How do you know?” Trey asked. “We didn’t tell you the dates.”

The Satanist shrugged. “Oh, and I also had personal reasons to hate all three of them. The mob guy screwed our church over on a construction deal, and the two council members kept trying to shut us down right before elections. Guess that makes me your prime suspect.”

Which is exactly what an intelligent guilty man might say
, Mala found herself thinking. Just because he was calm about the whole thing and was offering up the information willingly didn’t mean he was innocent. And the more she talked with the man, the more Mala felt that she needed to take a shower.

“Are you confessing?” Trey asked.

“Come for me,” the High Priest challenged him. “Please. I would like nothing better. No press is bad press for those who follow the left-hand path.”

The Satanist swiveled to look at each of them in turn, ending with Mala. It was a gaze that she could only describe as lascivious. He grinned at her.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to my group.” He pointed off in the direction of the Satanists who were gathering around each other. “We have initiations, renewals, pledging of souls to the Dark Master. You know. Satan stuff.” He strolled off toward his group, looking to all the world like a man out for a midnight walk.

“What a prick,” Trey said, then peered after him. “Doesn’t help any that he’s cool as a cucumber.”

“Yes. There is little hope that he will give us information willingly,” Darc agreed.

But as they moved away from the group of Satan worshippers who had begun chanting, Mala couldn’t help but recall the heated gaze of Mr. Hoffman. She remembered and shuddered at the memory.

That was not someone she would ever want to meet in a dark alleyway.

* * *

Glistening symbols, glittering threads, a gleaming patchwork cloth of logic flowed through Darc’s mind, tracing pathways of data to their ends. Those ending places could be intellectual dead-ends, revelatory conclusions or simply the beginning of another logic stream.

And all of them were leaving him feeling somehow… hollow. The ending of his date with Mala had been less than satisfactory. But then during the subsequent search for Janey and the questioning of the Satanists, he felt that surge of energy and renewal that he only seemed to get from his interactions with Mala.

He was drawn to her in a way that the illuminating fragments of logic in his mind could not track. The strange landscape of his inner emotional life was becoming more familiar to him, almost welcome, the more he spent time with her. And that link between the cold and shimmering logic and the murkier depths of emotion had been proven worthwhile during their last case together.

With that said, it didn’t seem to be getting any less excruciating to explore those deep chasms within his soul. Soul? That was a word Darc would not have used before encountering Mala. He had heard the expression used, and understood its meaning. But the existence of a soul was so far in question that it wasn’t part of his everyday lexicon.

They were standing on the dock after leaving the ferry. Janey had fallen asleep and was slung over Mala’s shoulder, her bear still clutched tightly in her grip. Trey was talking to a group of goth girls, all of whom were giggling in a very non-goth way.

Mala caught Darc’s eye and made her way over to him. Her lips were turned down, and there were lines etched on her forehead. There were several emotional options here to explain that expression, but as Darc felt the surging of his emotional topography, he came up with sadness.

She was sad. And that emotion seemed to be connected with him.

“Something is wrong,” he said as she settled in directly in front of him. She seemed to peer closer at him with that statement, her face registering something. Surprise? That appeared to be it.

“Yes, Darc. Something is wrong.” She sighed, and shifted Janey’s weight on her shoulder. She indicated with her chin toward the little girl. “Everything I do right now is for Janey. And you know some of what’s happening with the DSHS.”

“Yes, although I don’t see--”

“Darc, please. This is hard enough without you interrupting.” Mala took a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t think that right now is the best time for us to pursue any sort of relationship.”

The ribbons of logic swirled around this statement, tasting it, testing it, feeling out its contours with their bright and cold intelligence. They confirmed the veracity of her thesis. She was right.

And yet, the emotional terrain trembled, a psychological tremor that left Darc’s chest aching. It somehow burned and felt empty and cold at the same time. How was that possible? There was nothing about his reaction that made sense.

“I understand,” Darc finally said, and moved off in the rain that had just started falling. It was a cold rain, preparatory to the winter that was coming soon. The chill began to sink into his clothes with the moisture. Darc had hoped the cold would soothe the burning in his chest.

But all it did was feed the empty chill that was growing inside.

* * *

Trey had driven Darc’s car through the rain, taking Mala and Janey home. There had been more than enough time for him to sober up, and he always kept a copy of Darc’s keys on him. He’d learned to do that a long time ago. Darc had many good qualities, but standard behavior like taking his own car home and making sure everyone he took with him had a ride back was not high on his list of priorities.

Now Trey was back at his apartment with Mala and a sleeping Janey, along with Maggie, his partner in crime. He’d convinced Mala to come up for a cup of Maggie’s hot chocolate. She’d said no at first, but his apartment was on the way to Mala’s, and he told her it was probably good to clear the air now, before it got to be impossible. To say that it was awkward was an understatement.

It didn’t help that Mala hadn’t said a word since she stepped into the car. That could have been due to the sleeping girl at her arms, but it felt much stronger than that.

“Sooooo… how’s it going?” he ventured as she laid Janey down on the sofa.

Mala met his gaze as she sank down beside the little girl who was still clutching her bear. “I’ve had better nights,” she finally replied.

“Yeah… About that… Listen—”

“Trey,” Mala cut him off. “This isn’t about what you did. I mean, don’t misunderstand, I don’t want you to do it again. But I almost understand why you would help him that way.”

“It’s just that he cares—”

Mala held up a hand. “Don’t. Please. This is hard enough.”

Now Trey was confused. “I don’t get it. What’s hard enough?”

“I broke it off.” She gave a humorless chuckle. “If there was anything to break off, that is.”

“Hold on. You broke up with Darc?” Sudden comprehension flooded through him. “Oh. That’s why he took off walking.”

“It was a mistake. I never should have agreed to the date to begin with.”

Trey chewed on that a bit. “Okay. I get it. I’ll be the first one to tell you that Darc can be a royal pain in the ass, but he’s a good guy.”

“Of course he is,” Mala agreed. “But that doesn’t make him a good person to date.”

And then Maggie entered the living room, carrying a steaming cup of cocoa over to Mala. She handed the beverage over, then sat down in the chair opposite.

“You really have no idea.”

“Excuse me?” Mala replied.

Maggie let out a long breath. “All right. I wasn’t going to say anything. I mean, I’m the ex-wife, of course I’m going to be bitter, right? Except I’m not.” She glanced over at Trey. “Well, mostly not.”

“I don’t understand what—” Mala began.

“Your first date with Darc was a cakewalk compared to mine.”

“That seems unlikely.”

“Um. How about this? He shoved a busboy that got in his way, and the poor kid almost had to go to the emergency room for stitches. All while Darc just sat there eating his steak.” Maggie pursed her lips, almost like she had sucked on a lemon.

“But that’s just the point,” Mala shot back. “Is he really capable of sustaining any kind of intimacy with someone? There’s such an emotional disconnect there.”

“I wouldn’t have thought so, no,” Maggie muttered. “That’s why I divorced him.”

“But then why would you—?”

“Defend him? Yeah, I’m as shocked as anyone.” She gave a sad smile that broke Trey’s heart a little. “But he’s changed. I didn’t think it was possible, but he’s doing it right in front of my eyes.”

“Forgive me for saying this in front of your new boyfriend, but it sounds like you want to get back together with him.” Mala’s tone was mild, but her words were direct.