The Grotesques (31 page)

“Goddammit. Five people are missing and three women are dead. We can’t take any more chances. Do as I say before I’m forced to suspend you.” He broke off and stared into the corridor. “Is that a bat?”

The warning was tardy. The disoriented bat dipped into the room and brushed Ella before she thought to duck.

GENORD EASED HIMSELF
onto a rock at the mouth of the cave to better eye the chatty lad and his guardsman riding along the swampy path. Beside him the small dragon cavorted. Its fish scales gleamed blue in the sun as its bear talons scratched through the rock. It crouched as its hawk eyes spotted their prey. With the courage of a wolf and the aggression of a boar, it would not hesitate to strike, but it was yet vulnerable, no longer than his arm. He did not trust the cunning of the fox to outwit a man several times its size. It would grow in time. Until then he coveted for it the intelligence of a man. A shame he had not secured the monk’s spirit but the world provided. One of the sacrifices below had the fine garb of a nobleman. It was fitting, for the dragon was the noblest of beasts.

He thought about killing them from the safety of his cave, dead without knowing he was even here. But a furtive ambush did not become the future Lord of the Frankish Kingdoms. Confident of success, for had he not beaten the monk with his power of the cross, he jumped down the cliff and landed squarely in front of the pair.

“Hello,” the cheery youth said after his initial surprise.

“You appear the nobleman.”

“A nobleman’s youngest son. How can I assist?”

Genord smirked. “I’d like your homage.”

Brandishing a spear, the guard climbed off his horse onto the incline. “Be on your way before I run you through and bring sorrow to your mother.”

“Now, Vernon, the lad doesn’t have the look of a brigand.” The boy leaned forward to speak over the imbecile’s shoulder. “If you’ve fallen on hard times, I’ve money to spare.” He reached into a hidden purse, jangling coins.

Genord felt resentment well. This boy had no right to belittle him. Soon the entire Frankish Kingdoms would worship at his feet.

“You misunderstand,” he said. “Hard times are behind me. This is the beginning of my reign.”

He seized energy from the spirits within the dragon, the many that had blended into one. How easy it was to send it flying into the guard, to wrench his spear, and let the crude weapon tumble into the river below. Genord grunted. How much power it required to crumple the man beneath his horse’s hooves, to drop his head below the ledge so his body overbalanced and he plopped into the water.

Genord crossed his arms. The loss was of little consequence. The guard’s garb had been worse than his own pilfered tunic. “Your coin,” he demanded of the youth, struggling to hide the effort it was costing him to remain standing. Disposing of humans seemed to require more energy than his games with dumb beasts. He could feel the dragon reeling from the loss.

“Hi-yah!” The white-faced boy kicked his horse forward, forcing Genord flat against the rock face. Reining his horse in hard, he dug his heels into the flank. The steed kicked out. Genord scrambled up the cliff.

This upstart would not get the better of him. He dived, grabbed at the reins, and readied a fist. The lad raised his arm in defence, swung himself off the horse and under its neck. He ran down the path into the wood as Genord jumped onto the horse’s back. He sought to lash out but the dragon rebelled. By the time he had it under control, the lad was a blur among the trees. Deprived of time to concentrate, Genord could not seize the cowardly beating heart. He tossed a fragment of his spirits at a bush. It exploded, snagging the lad by the leg. Genord wanted to give chase and torture the cheer out of the voice. Too bad his dragon lay limp up in the cave. Shaking with rage, he climbed back to his post.

ELLA SWAYED. AS
she recalled, lack of sleep could send people mad. She added it to low blood sugar as a reason why she did not need to speak to a psychiatrist.

“You’re getting that check-up,” Rob said, supporting her by the elbow and guiding her into the corridor.

She nodded, then baulked. Brendan Rhymes was marching toward them, a heavy man and brooding youth in tow.

“Just what we need,” Inspector Roan commented.

Ella shuffled from awkwardness and silently concurred. Fate was cruel. It had been arduous enough to face Doer in his house. Here, in the very place where the controlled leak of misinformation which had cost her reputation had originated, the task assumed monumental proportions. All her feelings of inadequacy came pouring back. She slunk toward the exit, hoping to avoid both the man and the visit to the doctor.

“Sir. Mr . . . Doer is here to report his son missing.” Brendan Rhymes bristled with self-importance. “From the Church of the Resurrection.”

Ella stopped mid-slide. Doer nodded in her direction before settling his cool appraisal on the Chief Inspector.

“When was this?” Rob asked.

“He went into the church at about four this morning.”

“Hamlyn,” Chief Inspector Roan cautioned.

Rob made a show of looking at his watch. It wasn’t like him to prevaricate but, from what Ella had seen of Brodie, the overworked detectives had probably surmised the delinquent was out raping a girl. “I’m sorry. As a missing person’s case, this falls under the Local Service Area jurisdiction until they determine otherwise.”

“Under the circumstances,” Rhymes protested, poaching her words, “don’t you think we should handle the investigation?”

Ella sidled back toward the group, where Rob and Doer were staring each other down. Inside information on a lead story was worth a little personal discomfort. Struck by an idea, she bit her lip and moved between them. Considering they both stood over a head taller than her, it failed to have the desired effect.

“The police can’t ignore this. Brodie could provide the missing link between Genord and the murders,” she said.

Rob threw her a look that suggested she was going to atone many times over for that statement, but indicated Doer and the lad should take a seat in the empty interview room.

Ella tried to squeeze in before Rob closed the door. She was invoking a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. Doer was precisely what she needed.

“Ow,” she said as the door butted her foot.

“We’ll talk about your association with these lowlifes later,” Rob said.

“It’s purely business,” she replied, cursing the slip with Brodie’s name as the closing door edged her out.

“The reporter stays,” Doer said, calm if somewhat pale. “At least that way I know Ace and I will get a fair hearing. It will be all over the newspapers if we don’t, won’t it, Ella?”

She managed a weak smile. “What was Brodie doing at the church?” she asked, positioning herself next to Rob, who was seating himself opposite the boy. A disapproving glare and an earful from him later were tolerable if she got inside details.

Doer punched the youth on the arm. “The boys were out for a bit of fun.”

“Yeah.” The youth was slouched over the table. His lank, blonde hair fell across his face. “He got this note which said if he went to the church, he could do some business.”

“Who delivered the note?” Rob asked.

Ace raised his eyes and started chewing. “This bat got in the pub, distracted us. Then it disappeared and the note was just there.” He smirked. “Like it delivered it or somethin’.”

Ella momentarily closed her eyes. A week ago she would have thrown her notepad down and walked away, convinced this young offender was high on drugs for talking about message-bearing bats.

“You know something about that?” Doer said.

“I’ve had my fair share of bat post,” she replied.

“You look into what we discussed?”

“Oh yes. It’s how Genord dumps the bodies.”

“So why is the bastard still free?”

“I’m standing here. Unharmed. My word against his. A loophole you should be familiar with.”

“You should blame the detective here, not me.”

“My word might be worth a lot more if it weren’t for you.”

“What business did Brodie have at the church?” Rob’s raised voice was unusual enough to warn her off.

“Dunno. The note didn’t say. But he wanted to snoop around and impress Doer.”

“The pair of you will impress me when you start doing what you’re told.”

“We’re better than the mindless lackey work you give us.”

Rob cleared his throat. From the way his lips were pursed it was obvious his patience was wearing thin. “After the publicity that area has been getting, why did you let him go in alone?”

“He can take care of himself.”

For troublemakers like these that meant one thing. She was surprised Rob even had to ask.

“Did he have a weapon?”

Ace flicked his hair back and stared Rob in the eye.

“You want to impress me, you tell them everything,” Doer said, with a light clout to the back of Ace’s head.

“Yeah,” the youth admitted. “He had a piece.”

Doer relaxed. Ella thought about the ineffectual shots Rob and Danes had fired. And that did not even take Genord, who had been intent on murder and in possession of weird explosives, into account. With Romain out of the church, the boy was probably dead.

“Right. Now tell me how the pair of you got past the police surveillance.”

Ace shrugged. “They had a little distraction.”

Rob was rarely in the mood for games. It had been one of those opposite traits that was supposed to attract. Right now, trying to convince him that Genord was his man, she appreciated his lack of humour. Thankfully, the Chief Inspector was of a similar meld.

“You fired a gun and forced them to chase you,” said Roan.

“My bike backfired.”

“The patrol officers lodged their report. They chased you down the road.”

Ace shrugged again.

Rob pressed on with the disappearance. “So you didn’t actually see Brodie enter the church?”

“No, but that’s where he was going.”

“You didn’t see me enter either, but I was there, and Genord tried to kill me,” Ella butted in.

Chief Inspector Roan yanked the door handle. “We have no evidence of anyone entering that church. Nobody actually saw any of the victims enter the building.”

“That’s not true,” Ace and Ella said simultaneously.

Roan looked from one to the other, deciding who to tackle first. “You,” he said to her, “are not a victim. And you’d better watch what accusations you make or Genord will have you back in court for libel. As for you—”

Doer nudged Ace. The youth blurted, “Brodie and me saw the first chick enter.” He slumped in his chair, sticking out his chest. “We wolf-whistled and revved the bikes. She got nervy and went inside,” he smirked.

“Ella knew that girl went in the church,” Doer said.

“This one?” Rob held up a photo of Cecily Williams. Ace shrugged one shoulder.

“Something else you forgot to mention,” Rob said, avoiding her eyes. She dropped her head. Hurting him had not been her intention. She had figured he understood that about her because in all their time together, Ella had never been forthcoming. Rob had always had to pry what information he could out of her.

Chief Inspector Roan narrowed his gaze. “Did you or your buddy have anything at all to do with Cecily Williams’ disappearance?”

“Nup.”

Roan approached the table, pretending he was about to get heavy-handed, and Ace immediately became more sincere.

“No, I swear.”

“She’d be here if you hadn’t driven her into the church,” Ella said. Not that Ace was ever going to care.

“Weren’t us that did anything to her.” He sank further down, folded his arms, and glared at her.

Rob closed his pad. “Do not go down to the church or have any of your men go down there. Quite apart from legalities, we have enough missing people to deal with.”

The advice was probably futile. In fact, Ella was counting on it. “Call me around midday,” she said, as Rob stood and beckoned her out. She fished inside a forgotten compartment of her purse for a card with the
Informer
and her name printed on the same side. She passed the first one she had ever handed out to Doer. “I think we can help each other.”

Doer gave her a slow nod. “You got it.”

Rob ushered her out, leaving Rhymes to take down details of the shooting. “That man is dangerous. You have no reason to associate with him,” he said.

“Business,” she lied. “An interview. What are you going to do about Brodie?”

“We can hardly search the church again,” a furious Inspector said as they walked toward his office. “I want round the clock surveillance on the premises by a team who is not to leave the area for any reason. Get a tail on Genord and Romain, get together that team of experts, and get me some answers.”