Fire Song (City of Dragons) (13 page)

A man opened it right away. He was short and balding with a handlebar mustache. “Who are you? You’re not my beer shipment.”

“Afraid not,” said Flint. He showed his badge. “Are you Killian Henderson?”

“Yeah. So?”

“I’m Detective Lachlan Flint. This is my associate Penny Caspian. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Killian got a wary look in his eyes. “About what?”

“It’s regarding some murders,” said Lachlan. “The reporters are calling them the Dragon Slasher killings.”

Killian drew back. “What would I know about that?”

“
Do
you know anything about that?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Can we come in?”

Killian stepped outside. “Can’t we just talk out here?”

“Suit yourself,” said Flint. “You went to help out with the search party for Dahlia Brooks?”

“Yeah,” said Killian. “So?”

“Are you acquainted with Miss Brooks?”

“No, I was just there to be a concerned citizen.”

“You find the plight of a girl like her to be of specific interest to you?”

“Well, a little bit,” said Killian. “I mean, she’s a dragon, and my girls who work here are all magical, you know? They’re drakes and gargoyles, and what if this psycho starts going after them? That would be really bad for them. So, I want to help out.”

“I see,” said Flint. He waited.

As if galvanized by the silence, Killian kept talking. “I think it might be a hate crime, see? You know that group, the Brotherhood? What do they call themselves? Uh… Humans for a Wholesome Tomorrow. HWT. Those guys? They hate dragons. They hate them the worst, ‘cause they started all this magic business. So, it seems to me that they might be doing this. You should really be looking into them. Not me. There’s no reason to look into me.”

“Did we say we were looking into you?” said Flint mildly.

“You are, aren’t you?” Killian’s eye twitched.

“You seem to be a bit defensive about all of this,” Flint noted.

Killian’s nostrils flared. “Defensive? Who wouldn’t be? You walk up here, ambush me in the early morning and start making accusations. But there’s no reason for you to think that I did this. No reason at all.”

“I haven’t made one single accusation,” said Flint.

“You haven’t?”

Both Flint and I shook our heads.

Killian took a deep breath, let it out, and put his hands into his pockets.

Flint tried a smile. “Do you ever have interactions with the girls in your club? Interactions of a… sexual nature?”

“I’m married. Happily. So no. Anyway, I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“How did you meet your wife?” said Flint.

Killian coughed. “Well, she used to be a dancer here, but what does that matter?”

“Your wife is human?”

“She’s a drake. Are we going somewhere with this? Because if anyone’s saying that I been buying dragon meat on the black market for her, then they are lying, because I would never do something like that.”

“Do you know
Othello
?”

“He someone I should know?”

“It’s a play,” said Flint. “By William Shakespeare.”

Killian looked as confused by this turn in conversation as I was.

“It’s a play about a black man in the fifteenth century, who goes against society, and at great personal risk to himself marries a white noblewoman. She is ostracized from her family, and she has no one but Othello. But they haven’t been married for very long before someone convinces Othello that she’s being unfaithful to him. And Othello, though it isn’t true, proves remarkably easy to convince. He goes from being devoted to the woman to strangling her to death in a very short span of time.”

We were all quiet.

Killan furrowed his brow. “Uh, okay.”

“The point,” said Flint, “is that there is often a very thin line between love and hate. If you love exotic women, then maybe you also hate them. And that is why you’re a person of interest in this case. Don’t leave town.”

*

“No, I never did meet her,” said Anthony Barnes. He was a drake, but his mutation seemed to be minimal. His face looked human except for his eyes, which had a subtle ring of red around the iris. His hands were covered in red scales, but he didn’t have any claws or spikes. “We have had a few dragons come through our shelter, but not many. They would be welcome, of course, but I think there are less troubled dragon youth than other magical creatures. It’s the same with gargoyles. They have strong family units and we rarely see them here. We serve young people who find themselves transformed into drakes or vampires and young people who have been caught using dragon artifacts and talismans to do magic and subsequently kicked out of their homes. That’s the kind of work we do.”

Flint and I were sitting opposite Anthony in his office in the shelter where he worked.

“If you didn’t know her,” Flint said, “why did you join the search party?”

Anthony furrowed his brow. “Well, knowing her wasn’t required, was it?”

“I’m just curious.”

Anthony suddenly let out a little nervous laugh. “Oh, I get it.” He raised a red-scaled finger. “I’m a psychologist, after all. You’re here because I’m a single man with no attachments who could be trying to get close to the investigation, aren’t you?” He breathed out noisily. “You think I’m the killer, don’t you?”

“This is simply an interview,” said Flint.

Anthony pushed back from the desk. “Well, I don’t know what I can tell you, because when I look at it, it could all be twisted around. If I protest that I’m innocent, maybe I sound defensive. But if I don’t, then I seem guilty. So, I don’t know what to say. I could point to all the community work that I’ve done over the years, but that might look like a cover. As if I’ve been using this job to get to my prey. And who knows? You might go looking into all the kids who come to this shelter and then disappear, never to be seen again, and then conclude that I’ve been working up to dragons, that I started with these kids…” His voice was suddenly full of emotion, and he got up, putting his back to us.

“Mr. Barnes,” said Flint. “I have not intimated in any way that you were guilty.”

It was interesting that both of our suspects today were leaping to conclusions. Of course, I guessed they were both right. They
were
suspects.

I thought about how I had had felt when Flint had accused me of the crime. I squirmed. Neither of their defensive reactions proved anything, I realized.

“I’m sorry,” he said thickly. “It’s only that I love these kids, and thinking of them being hurt is too hard.” He turned back around. “I don’t know how to convince you that I live for this. That all I’ve ever wanted to do was help people.”

“Sit back down,” said Flint.

Anthony shook his head. “I don’t think I can.” He rubbed his forehead. “Oh my God, I’m going to have to get a lawyer. How am I going to pay for a lawyer?”

“Mr. Barnes, please try to calm down.” Flint’s voice had gone all soothing and soft.

Anthony let out another noisy breath. “Okay. Okay.” He shut his eyes.

“Now, you didn’t know Dahlia?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Or the other victims? Sophia Ward? Elena Watson?”

He shook his head. “No, none of them.” He sat down. “For what it’s worth, I joined the search party because I want that girl to be found, alive. There are a lot of terrible things that happen in the world. A lot of good things too, but a lot of terrible things. There are wars and religious persecutions and drug addiction and diseases and global warming and the list goes on. There’s no way that one person could fix all of those things. But you know what makes me crazy? Most people don’t even try to
help
fix
one
of those things. I’m trying to do my part, though. And so I do what I can. I try to help magical teens who need me.”

“I understand that,” said Flint. “You may not believe this, but what I’m trying to do is help make the world a better place too.”

Anthony surveyed him. “No, of course I believe that. You’re a civil servant. You try to keep people safe. I suppose we understand each other, then.”

“I think so,” said Flint, smiling.

“Well, then, I’m going to try not to be too nervous.” Anthony smiled too. “I’m a good man, and if you investigate that, you’ll find it to be true. I think you’ll realize that fairly quickly. I didn’t hurt those girls.”

Flint massaged the bridge of his nose. “So, we can’t eliminate either of them yet.”

“No?” I said. “I mean, the drake guy, he seemed pretty on the level, didn’t he?”

“Maybe it was all an act,” said Flint. “He admitted to us that he was a psychologist. And if he were, in fact, a psychopath, he might be quite drawn to that field of study in order to be better at faking empathy.”

“Oh,” I said. I hadn’t thought of that. “Well, the stripper owner just seemed shady.”

“He’s probably not the killer,” said Flint. “He doesn’t seem smart enough to pull it off. But again, that could be an act. It could all be quite calculated.”

“I thought they both kind of reacted the same way,” I said.

“You can’t put much stock in the reactions,” said Flint. “Guilty people and innocent people don’t act markedly different when being accused of a crime. Sometimes very stupid guilty people will become very chatty and spill a big, concocted story. But innocent people also get nervous. So, there’s really nothing we can draw from that.”

“I guess I just…” I inspected my fingers. “I was thinking about Felicity. If I hadn’t been around for her, I would want a place like that around. Like that shelter. I’d want someone to try to help her. Is it crazy to think that there are people out there who just want to help people?”

“Of course not,” said Flint.

“It’s just that sometimes you seem to take a dim view of humanity.”

He laughed. “Really? That’s how I come across to you?”

“You think you should come across a different way?”

“We’re investigating serial murder, Ms. Caspian. That’s a dim filter to be looking through.”

I nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

“You want to come back to the office with me and help me make notes on the whiteboard about our suspects?”

“Actually, I’ve got something I need to do this evening,” I said. “I’ve got to prepare.”

“Suit yourself,” he said. “I want you to know, however, you’re missing a very good time.”

*

“I don’t see why we had to park three blocks away,” said Connor, who was lagging behind Felicity and me, clutching a cardboard coffee cup. He had just woken up, since the sun had gone down only fifteen minutes ago. He was cranky.

I’d brought him in the car as a statue, which meant I’d had to have him half in the trunk and half in the back seat. We’d driven up to Connecticut, where the burial vault for the Caspian clan was located. It had taken about five hours to drive up here, and I couldn’t wait until Connor woke up to leave.

We were all walking up the sidewalk from the place we had parked.

“I told you to ditch that coffee cup,” I said. “If you spill coffee on the remains of my ancestors—”

“I’m not going to bring it into the vault,” he muttered.

“You think there’s just going to be a little spot to leave it outside the door?”

“Maybe a trash can?” he said.

I glared at him.

He stopped and gulped down the rest of the coffee as fast as he could. Then he crumpled the cardboard cup. “Is there a trash can out here?”

“Just leave it,” I said.

“You want me to litter?” he said.

I groaned.

Felicity laughed. “What about the planet, Penny?”

“Look, it’s got to be better for the planet to litter than it is to shove stuff in plastic bag and bury it in a landfill. If you just leave it here, it will totally biodegrade.”

Connor considered. “Maybe you’re right.” He tossed the coffee cup.

I pointed. “We’re cutting through here.”

“What?” said Connor. “That’s like the woods. It looks like there might be briar bushes.”

I sighed. “There’s no woods left in Connecticut. It’s like twenty feet of woods. Come on.” I started off the sidewalk, up a slight incline and between the dark shadows of the trees.

Felicity and Connor followed me.

In was dark under the cover of the branches, even though most of them were still bare. A few had buds, but no leaves.

Dead leaves crunched under our feet, though.

I went slowly until my eyes adjusted, hoping that Connor wasn’t right about briars.

Overhead, the sound of a night bird calling.

“Why are we in the woods?” Connor whispered.

“It’s behind the cemetery,” I whispered back. “We’re sneaking in from the back.”

“Why are we whispering?” whispered Felicity.