Chapter 2 : Crime Scene

Helena’s proclamation revived the inspector’s frown but Kilduff nodded.  “You’ll have to discuss that with Captain Jacobs.  It’s his idea, and he’s the one who has to explain the expenses to the suits across the river, just like he’ll have to explain it to Saint Peter later.”  Kilduff shook his head and stepped out of the entryway into the street.

“Whoa!”  Shannon poked her head out from behind her father.  “So you’re gonna be solving a crime, Helena?”

Mr. Samuels patted his daughter on the head.  “She’ll be helping solve a crime.”  He looked up at Helena.  “A lucky break for you though, isn’t it, Miss Helena?”

“Assuming there’s actually something supernatural there and not just people jumping at shadows.  It could be a normal murder.”  Helena clamped down on her emotions.  She needed to seem professional and in control after all.  But it was hard.  This was the break she’d been hoping for!

James lowered his voice to a whisper and smiled.  “Well, you’ll just have to charge them a consultation fee.”

Helena grinned.  “Plus expenses.”

James and Shannon gave her a thumbs up.  Helena returned the American gesture then waved and headed out onto the street where the Inspector waited.

The first thing that caught her eyes was the patrol car.  It was strange, even for a mishmash of eras like the Immigrant Realm.  The machine was all sleek lines and fine detail work that would take a master craftsman years to produce, but the city across the river stamped them out like they were nails.  The power needed to perform such feats was in some ways greater than most spells.  It was strange they’d use it for such a worthless luxury.

She grabbed the handle next to the lock to open the carriage door then slipped into the passenger seat.  “Seatbelt,” Kilduff said pulling a strip of cloth around his chest and belly.

Helena repeated the gesture, then fumbled with the locking mechanism before securing it.  “What’s the point?  With all the people on the roads there’s no way you’ll can drive fast enough to need it.”

“It’s the law,” Kilduff responded.  “Also keeps your teeth from rattling out on the stones.”  He looked over at her as he started the vehicle.  “First time in a car?”

“Yes,” Helena admitted.  “Not much use if you can fly.”

“Not much use if you can walk, either,” muttered Kilduff without his usual venom.  “We keep telling the captain they should be giving these toys to the hospital.  A real policeman should have his feet on the city streets, not be sitting about in a box.  But the Chief across the river insists they’re required or some nonsense.”

Helena shook her head.  “Have they at least given up on radio towers?  Or is some new company trying to bankrupt themselves?”

“Gave up last I heard.  Some nonsense about ‘localized cosmic radiation.'”  Kilduff snorted.  The two didn’t agree on much, but at least they could bond over how foolish the nominal rulers of their realm were.  “Now the fools are wasting our money trying to string wires across the bridge.  Keep getting surprised when the damn things break.”

“I’d write a letter to a senator, but I’m not a citizen.”  Helena idly wondered what disasters the Immigrant Realm was unleashing on the poor workers trying to feed electricity and other technology into the realm.  Magicians, even true magicians like herself, were still bound by cause and effect.  The magic of a realm decided on the effect it wanted, then put together a cause for it as an afterthought.  And some realms seemed to have a nasty sense of humor when it came to causes.  Especially when it came to people trying to change the realm’s nature.

Helena’s thoughts were interrupted as a group of enthusiastic kids chased a soccer ball right in front of the car.  The straps bit into her as they stopped.  Kilduff grimaced and tapped the horn until the laughing mob cleared out, before driving right in front of a courier.  They continued past the man as he made a rude gesture then made a turn into an alley that was currently blocked off by a water buffalo drawn cart laden with milk.  Kilduff sighed and backed out before picking a new route.

The comedy of errors only continued as they drove on.  With the constant redirections Helena took a while to realize they weren’t heading towards the massive bridge that connected the Immigrant Realm to the mainland.  “Isn’t the station that way?”

“The Captain wanted to meet you at the scene of the crime.  He’s looking into it personally,” Kilduff said.

“Hm?  Looking into it personally?”  She looked over at Kilduff.  “The person who died must have some powerful friends.  And a lot of money.”  That was the only reason in her mind for a police captain to be running around annoying his deputies and pretending to help.  It also explained why they were hiring a true magician like her instead of a hedge mage.

“Xiao Liang was a rich man from across the bridge.  The Chief is demanding answers.”  He spared her a dismissive glance.  “At least I hope that’s why Captain Jacobs is being such a fool.  Would be a real pain if he insisted a Bride of Satan be involved every time there’s a hint of magic.”

Helena returned the glare.  “I told you before I’m not married.  And I serve Hecate, not your god’s fallen angel.  Maybe your job would be easier if you remembered that instead of picking fights with innocent magicians.”

Kilduff turned to her.  “My job is keeping people away from danger, girl.  And you are dangerous.  Less than five days after you came into the city you turned a man into a crab and left him to die in the sun.”

“He tried to stab me,” Helena pointed out.  “And if anyone cared they could have taken him to the sea.  I might have done it myself if you hadn’t arrested me.”

“Hmph.  Aye the victim was one of those pagan religious fanatics I suppose.  But the Lord will surely forgive me for figuring a witch who offends Zeus is up to little good.”

“It was Apollo, not Zeus, and if the bastard didn’t want me killing his favorite hero, he should have warned the fool to back off.  Instead of egging the narcissistic pig on with promises that I was certain to fall in love.”  Kilduff snorted, but didn’t continue the argument.

Helena felt anger bubbling up and forced it down.  The sheer gall of that arrogant plague god, trying to control her emotions.  And then getting angry when she’d dared to resist.  It wasn’t fair, but fair didn’t matter when the gods were involved.  At least she had her freedom, even if she was in exile.

She turned her attention outside of the car to take her mind off the past.  This section of town was where the outrealmers lived, people from actual storybook lands, created by powerful magicians or monsters.  Much like the city across the bridge, the realms these people came from had never existed in the real world that had left magic behind.

Still it was a city, and people did the same things, if in different ways.  As Helena watched, a kid with butterfly wings hopped between third story apartments to set up a laundry line.  On the ground floor a storefront advertised complex clockwork appliances, all mimicking equivalents from across the river.  And outside the barber shop a number of women with black eyes and tentacles instead of arms were gossiping.  It all felt familiar to Helena.  Sure she couldn’t place most of the items or even the people, but the way magic was performed here called to her.

A pale woman with runes on her neck noticed Helena’s witch hat and rushed into a storefront.  She sighed and turned her attention back to the road.  She was drawn to the neighborhood, but the neighborhood wanted nothing to do with her.  The people here came from magical realms, but they weren’t magicians.  They were the demons, servants and sentient creations that had fled cruelty and mistreatment, and a practitioner like Helena brought up too many bad memories.

The roads switched from cobblestone to smooth asphalt as they entered the hotel district.  The thin slices of land where the people from across the river tried to fake the brightly lit world of their home realm.  And failed because weird people like Helena walked out in the open instead of hiding in the shadows like they were supposed to.  In fact magical creatures might be even more open than they were at home.  Helena was pretty sure the dark-skinned mermaids talking to a group at the shoreline were miengu, and normally the water spirits were more secretive.

Finally they stopped behind a large five story brick building.  “We have to go in the servant’s entrance to ‘avoid scaring the customers,'” Kilduff said with bitterness.

Well that was insulting.  Helena fumbled with her seatbelt for a bit before managing to get herself out of the car.  “I’m starting to understand why you’re always so grumpy.  Surprised you don’t threaten them with inspections for that.”

“Enough of that talk, lass.” He smoothly exited the car and walked towards the back entrance.  “Let’s go meet the captain so you can show him what a bad idea this was.”

The servant’s hallway moved past the laundry rooms to a set of service elevators.  Kilduff called one and hit the button for the fifth floor.  There was no magic along the way, but there wasn’t any security either.

The fifth floor was a different scene entirely.  Yellow tape sealed off the far entrance to this wing of the hotel, and a few uniformed police stood guard to wave off the curious.  It was strange how controlled the scene was.  She’d been expecting some real chaos.  Murder scenes back home were messier.  Kilduff led her past them into the open room.

The foul stench of coffee rolled over her, stopping her in her tracks.  It seemed everyone had a cup of the poisonous brew.  She waved a hand to clear the smell and looked over the people in the room.  A man and a woman measuring bloodstains.  A man in a uniform writing it down.  And a man standing away from everyone, doing absolutely nothing. 

He wore fine manufactured clothes, meaning he was from the modern side of the bridge.  A native of the Immigrant Realm would either have cheap machined clothing or a tailored outfit.  Fine manufacturing was a foreign luxury.  His eyes were harried, and he didn’t have a notepad, instead fiddling with a worthless mobile phone.  His presence was a weight in the room, dragging everyone down with his discomfort.

Kilduff walked straight to him.  Of course that man would be the captain.  The universe was a perverse entity.

“I brought the witch, sir,” Officer Kilduff said.

“Oh?”  The man looked at her, confused.  “I’m sorry, our records said you were forty-seven.  I wasn’t expecting someone so young.”  He held out his hand.  “Captain Jacobs, Immigrant Island branch.”

Helena nodded and ignored the man’s hand.  “Helena Aoede, the Curse Gunner.  I stopped my aging early because I was going to get wrinkles instead of height.”

“Stopped your aging?”  The man blinked at her while Kilduff closed his eyes in resignation.  Apparently the captain didn’t know anything about magic either.  It didn’t speak well of him, given he was supposed to be the head policeman for a highly magical realm.  Now was that good or bad for her job prospects?

She decided to simply explain and hope for the best.  “The best magicians can stop their aging, becoming immortal.  I assume those stories still make it across the bridge?  Well I’m one of the best.”  She glanced around the room trying to make sense of it.  “So what’s the job you’re offering?”

The question seemed to reorient the man.  “We need the assistance of a magician to find out what committed the murder here, and in tracking the culprit and the culprit’s master down.”

“Culprit’s master?”  That was an odd assumption.  “So you already know what happened?”

Jacobs nodded, his confidence returning.  “It’s pretty obvious.  The corpse was found with its cranium and cortex– well let’s cut to the chase.  Something ate the man’s brain.”  He shook his head.  “No one saw a damn thing.  Security came up because the neighbors complained about hearing a fight, and found the body.  Which means whatever did it could hide as a human.”

“Or turn invisible, or any number of other things,” Helena said.  She tapped her chin.  “That does explain why you need me.  If you think it’s a zombie, then Madam Robicroux is your primary suspect, since she’s the master of Vodoun in the city.  You can’t afford Gold Rat Hsu or Granite Monkey Sen, the Adena and the tower wizards won’t help you, and no mere hedge mage would be able to track her.”  Helena smiled.  “Let’s discuss payment.”

“Normally we pay people after they finish the job,” Jacobs said, frowning.  “We are good for the money, you know.”

Like she was going to fall for that.  “I know you’re good for almost any amount.  I also know how easy it is for people to forget they owe money.  Especially since it would take me money I don’t have to file a complaint.  Besides, I want to know if this is worth my time.”

“Very well.”  Jacobs sighed.  “What’s your price?”

It was an elegant trap.  Jacobs had to know that she didn’t have a clue what her services were worth here.  Bargaining without that was like trying to run the Marathon with one leg.

Her gaze drifted to the wall mirror.  Reading people’s minds was a difficult spell.  Her friend Lyudmila could do it, but Helena had never really grasped the way other humans thought to pull it off.  Reading surface thoughts was much easier.  She focused her power on the mirror, and studied the reflection of the police captain as she asked, “What’s the average pay for a specialist?”

“One hundred silver dollars.”  The mirror shifted and showed three hundred and fifty.

Helena glared at the Captain.  “Five hundred silver dollars, plus expenses.  An extra one hundred because my services are unique, plus an extra fifty for trying to cheat me.  What were you thinking?”

Jacobs reeled back.  “What?  That’s–“

“You won’t win trying to out lie the devil,” Kilduff said.  “You should have asked for a priest from the start.”

Helena adjusted her hat.  “If you want me to go…”  She clamped down on her fear.  She couldn’t lose this job.  The captain was desperate, and she was the only person he could turn to.

Jacobs shook his head, and slumped.  “Fine.  Five hundred silver dollars it is.  Paid when you complete your report and we confirm its accuracy.”

“Accepted.  May Hermes hold us to it.”  Helena fought to keep her grin from swallowing her face.  She could pay rent again!  She took a moment to bask in the victory before turning her attention back to the crime scene.

“So the murder happened here.”  She looked over to where the people were making notes on bloodstains.  “From the chalk outlines it seems like you’ve moved things around.  What did the place originally look like?”

“Inspector Kilduff can you explain the crime scene to her?” Captain Jacobs said.

Kilduff rolled his eyes.  Helena added that to her list of evidence that Jacobs was more ‘manager’ than worker.  “Well, you can see the blood spatters,” Kilduff said.  “We haven’t moved them.  Body was found in the bathroom, there.”  He pointed to the black tape outline of a man on the white tiled floor.  A large bloodstain covered the head area.  “The mixed chalk and tape are where we found pieces of the bathroom door.”

“Wait.”  Helena pointed at the chalk outlines.  “Those are all in the bedroom.  Are you claiming something inside the bathroom burst out?”

“The lads at the lab are still working on it,” Kilduff said.

“There’s no windows in there,” Jacobs said, “unless you’re claiming the zombie came out of the toilet.”

She was starting to have sympathy for Kilduff here.  “That’s not impossible.  Still I want to look over the pieces of the door later.”  She looked over at the people measuring the splatters and wood shards.  “I’m going to need to inspect the place of death more closely.”

“Just don’t step on anything,” the woman said as she scribbled down more notes.

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Helena floated off the ground and flew over to the other side of the room.  Being only five feet tall had some advantages.

She ignored the muttering from the others in the room and landed inside the small bathroom.  As the police captain said, there were no windows, and no other signs of entry.  She leaned down and smelled the blood pool.  The coppery smell wasn’t as strong as fresh blood would be, but still present.  She sketched a quick spell to check for mystical blood and found nothing.  The attacker hadn’t bled anywhere, assuming their attacker wasn’t human.

Still, something seemed wrong.  Helena closed her eyes and focused her breathing, trying to strengthen her mental senses.

As soon as her eyes relaxed it hit her.  There was no sense of magic here.  No sense of death, either.  Someone having their brain eaten should have left a lot of lingering energy, along with pain and terror.  “Strange,” she muttered.  She looked up at the Captain and Kilduff.  “I’ll need a sample of the blood.”

“For your necromancy?” Kilduff snarled.

She sighed.  “I need some way to make sure the blood here is the same as the blood of the victim,” Helena said.  “I’ll also need to see the body.”

The woman who was writing down notes looked up.  “Lab will be done confirming that the blood matches the victim in a couple of hours.”

Helena nodded.  Her way was faster, but she did understand why people were leery about willingly handing a witch someone’s blood.  Even if the person was dead.  “I’ll still need to see the body.”

“Are you going to investigate the bite marks to find out what type of zombie did it?” Captain Jacobs asked.

“No, because your victim wasn’t killed by a zombie.”  Helena floated back over to the other side of the room.  “When something dies their life energy doesn’t go away instantly.  It lingers.  Hades doesn’t need the power of life in his domain.  Violent deaths leave even more energy, since the victim is often healthy and has a good deal of life left.

“The zombie guess was obviously wrong… at least to a trained practitioner.  ‘Voodoo’ zombies can’t eat at all.  Regular zombies don’t actually eat brains, at least not more than anything else they can sink their teeth into, and they aren’t subtle enough to sneak into a hotel.  A zombie would just kill until someone destroyed it.”  Helena shrugged.  “If there was a zombie involved, someone’s taking Herculean efforts to shuttle it about.”

Helena turned her gaze on Jacobs.  “Whatever killed the victim used up all the lifeforce spilled into the area by his death.  Lots of things can do that.  Any magician, or even low ranked priests.  But one thing that can’t do that is a zombie.”

“So you’re saying it was more likely a witch that did the killing,” Kilduff said.

“I wish.  Another magician would be easy to track.  And much more interesting to fight.  But there was no magic either.  I’ve left more of a magical trace in this room than the murderer.”  Her mind raced, running over all the things it could be, but there were too many options, and too many creatures that she knew nothing about.

“The killer is something strange.  A creature that eats lifeforce.”  Helena went back to forcing her will on Jacobs.  “Which is why I need to go to the morgue.”

Captain Jacobs chewed on his lip before pulling out a cigarette.  “Fine.  Inspector, take her to the morgue and show her the rest of the evidence.  Whatever it takes to close this case.”

Kilduff heaved a great sigh.  “Right then.  Let’s go, girl.”