Night Call (Book 2): Demon Dei (29 page)

“It’s a Red Socks cap.”

“Ever seen it before? Say on the head of someone going up to the offices on the sixth floor?”

Deiter
screwed up his face. “Maybe.”

“Think,
Deiter. You could blow my case wide open if you can remember who was wearing this cap.”

“Well, I didn’t see his face. The cap was too low, right.”

“Describe him.”

“Skinny, ‘bout my height, maybe a bit taller, walked all hunched up and his hands in his pockets. Totally ignored me.”

I took a calming breath. “When was this?”

“’Round about a week ago.”

“Thanks.”

Cap crushed in a death grip I left the building. Of course, the cap wearer could have been anyone, but odds were he wasn’t just anyone. A week ago was just after Gerry died. The time Chris said Rufus had gone missing.

Shit.

Chris wasn’t answering his phone. I roared on out to Rocklea and he wasn’t home, either. Neither was Rufus.

I sat on the bike and tried to work out what the fuck was going on. Chris had lied to me. At least, he hadn’t told me everything. Rufus was keeping big fat facts to himself as well. None of that screamed complete innocence to me.

I called Erin’s office.

“Hello, Sol Investigations. Ivan speaking.”

“Ivan, it’s Matt. You sound like shit.”

Ivan sighed into the phone. “I feel like shit. Did Erin catch up with you?”

“Not yet. What does she want?”

“She thinks you’re incapable of finding out who killed Gerry.”

I snorted. “Listen, I’m not after Erin. I’m trying to find Chris and Rufus. Chris isn’t answering his phone and neither of them are home. Any ideas?”

“Um, not really. Brad might have a clue.”

“Can you call Brad and get him to call me with any ideas he might have. This is important.”

“Are they in trouble?”

If I caught them they very well could be. “Maybe. Can you call Brad?”

“Sure.”

“Good, if you could do that right now, I’d be really appreciative.”

He said he would and I hung up. While I waited for the call, I considered my options. It was just after four, still three hours to full sunset. A whole heap of time I could be doing stuff before Mercy got up and could... What? Go bonkers and try to kill me again? Or worse?

I had to stop thinking I could rely on Mercy at the moment. But the truth was, the vague plan forming up in the back of my head wouldn’t work without her. She was too integral to my thinking processes these days. Without her, Night Call would just be some idiot in a black car with high ideals about himself.

Pushing aside thoughts of Mercy, I considered what it left me with. Not a lot, truth be told. Unless Brad could pinpoint his uncle and cousin I had little hope of finding them.

Wow. Without Mercy, I was pretty useless. Scary thought.

Of course, I could give in and deal with Erin. I had to eventually talk to her, didn’t I. Still, I didn’t feel like having the confrontation over the phone and I didn’t think I should just leave the Davis house unwatched. They could come home at any time and I wanted to be here. I settled in to wait.

“About time,” I muttered when Brad finally called.

“Sorry, but when Ivan said what you wanted, I did a bit of a search myself. Chris isn’t at home.”

Glancing at the closed up house, I said, “I figured.”

“And he’s not at work either. Rufus was at school today and left at three.”

An hour for him to have got home, surely more than enough time. Curse rebellious teenagers.

“Any places you can think of Rufus might go after school? A friend’s house, a park, anything?”

“I’m not that close to Rufus,” Brad said. “But Chris does play lawn bowls.”

I should have guessed. Brad gave me what he thought was the name of the greens where his uncle played. Wishing Roberts would just give in and fix my phone, I stopped at a convenience store and asked for directions. I lucked onto a lady who was quite the bowls enthusiast and left with several greens to check out within easy reach of Chris’ place. It took
two hours to cover them all and make sure Chris wasn’t at any of them. By the time I’d ruled them out, I had resigned myself to not finding either of them on my own.

Right now, my best bet was probably to continue with my original plan for the night. Tonight was, of course, the last night of leniency my personal demon had from her boss. Tonight, she would be after me with all of her determination.

I called Roberts.

“Long time,” he said in greeting. “Was starting to think some vamp had finally kicked your arse for you.”

That one hit a little close for comfort, so I said in a derisive, totally compensating manner, “Not likely. Are you free tonight?”

“Let me check my social calendar. Nope, nothing. What’s the fun planned for tonight? Should I wear galoshes?”

“Don’t rule it out.”

While he moaned and groaned I filled him in on what I wanted him to do. Once he found out, he agreed readily enough, on one condition.

“If my car gets messed up you’re paying for a complete detailing.”

“All you’re doing is picking up a few things for me. How’s your car going to get messed up? Oh, that’s right. You’ll be driving.”

“Yeah, you’re real funny. And what will you be doing while I’m running your errands?”

“I’ll be picking up a few other things.” I gave him the address for where we’d meet and hung up.

By the time I reached Dutton Park Cemetery, it was close to full dark. I called Kermit from the entrance to the cemetery so he was waiting for me when I arrived at his clearing.

“What now?” he demanded testily. “I was in the middle of dinner.”

Somehow, he’d managed to get himself a hoodie, a fresh one, not one taken from some tragically hip dead body. He kept in the shadows of the scrub, looking around nervously, making sure his hood was pulled as far forward as possible. He looked like Batman, his ear tips making two pointed peaks on either side of his head.

“Sorry to bother you,” I said, with unusual amounts of consideration. “We’re friends, right. The sort of friends who do favours for each other.”

Kermit stopped searching the growing dark and settled for staring at me. “What do you want?”

“Nothing much. Just wondering if you wanted to get out of the cemetery for a bit. You know, see some new sights, have ride on the Moto
Guzzi, feel the wind in your... ears, maybe help me talk to a demon, get some take out, see the sights from Mount Coot-tha.”

The ghoul took a startled step back. “Did you just... ask me out on a date?”

I gaped at him. “Oh, fuck no. I need something, shit, I mean someone to put a demon spirit into while I talk to it. Jeez, Kermit.”

“But what about the rest of it? The ride, the site seeing, the dinner. You weren’t actually going to go through with that if I agreed?”

Doing my best not reach for my gun, I said, “If we did all those things, would you help with the other thing?”

“Hell no.”

I gritted my teeth against the need to growl. “Then why go on about it?”

“To see how serious you were. And you are serious.” He held up a long, four fingered hand to keep me away. “After everything I said yesterday you have the nerve to come and ask me this.”

“Listen, Afzal, I understand what it would mean for you to agree to do this. I wouldn’t ask unless I had no other option. And hey, you do this for me, and I’ll be so much closer to getting rid of these demons and you can go back to your usual life.” Not that I could see much difference in how he lived, unless being even more obnoxious counted. Which, I suppose, it did. At least I never had to treat him like a princess before.

“No way, little man. Not on your willy.”

I winced. “Nelly, Kermit. It’s not on your nelly.”

“Well, not on that either. I don’t owe you anything.”

“You don’t owe me anything?” I spluttered. “You tried to kill me!”

“You’re still riding that old bike?” Kermit waved as if clearing the air. “That’s old news. Water under the bridge. A bone picked clean and sucked dry of marrow.”

“Something like that, Kermy, something that threatens my very existence, tends to stick around.”

“Oh, like being possessed by the Demon King and doing who knows what while he’s frolicking around in his borrowed ghoul body might stick around, huh? Like that, do you think?”

I held up my hands. “Okay, you got me. You’ve been used and abused by these arseholes. I get it. But all I’m asking is a couple of minutes to talk to this thing, then it’s over. I banish it, you go free and it won’t be walking off with you, I promise.”

Kermit narrowed his big eyes. “What will you give me for it? And just so you know, I don’t want a date, or any of that other shit you mentioned.”

“What do you want then?” If he said flat screen TV the deal was off.

He thought about it for, oh, maybe two seconds.

“I want to see a movie.”

“Sure.
Merce has a big collection, if you’re into Norse gods.”

“No. In a cinema. With popcorn and those ice creams with the chocolate on top.”

“Deal.” Had absolutely no freaking idea how I would manage it, but the ugly bastard was actually twanging on something that might be attached to my pity.

With a big sigh, he heaved himself up and stalked past me. “Let’s get this done, then.”

I made him put on some pants. Contrary to popular belief, he actually had some. At the bike, I offered him Mercy’s helmet. Kermit was pretty savvy with his techno talk these days, but he didn’t understand that most male beings shouldn’t be so happy to get the hot pink helmet. Why all the protective gear for something that, if he fell off the bike at top speed, would probably survive? Because I didn’t want to be seen riding around with what could be mistaken for a half decayed corpse. Visually, he could be covered up fairly well, but the smell... All I can say is, thankfully he was behind me. Going so fast his stench didn’t have time to reach my nose was the only way I made it to Rocklea without passing out. Though we did nearly crash several times. Despite my warning about riding on the bike, he got too excited about pointing out things that caught his fancy along the way and nearly capsized us as he leaned toward them.

By the time we’d reached the new estate, Kermit had had his fill of the world beyond his cemetery and he disappeared into the warren of skeletal houses with a vague promise to come back when I needed him. Inside the house where I’d hidden the bike the night before, I went about my preparations.

My circle was nowhere near as perfect as Gerry’s but it was pretty darn close, even if I do say so myself. I’d just finished inscribing the symbols between the points of the hexagram when Roberts’ big four wheel drive rumbled into the driveway. As I was leaving the garage to help him unpack, a familiar sensation took my breath away.

Roberts hopped down from the 4WD and from the passenger side, Mercy appeared, glaring at me.

“I’m hungry.”

I faced Roberts, who stood there looking far too un-guilty. “Why is she here? You were supposed to take her home once she’d done her part.”

“Have you tried telling her no lately?” He stepped back. “Discuss it with her. I’m going to unload my car before any of those things wakes up.”

“He wouldn’t give me any blood,” Mercy complained as she stamped up to me. Tonight’s wardrobe choice was sensible jeans, boots and a t-shirt that read ‘What if the HOKEY POKEY really is what it’s all about?’. “I had to run around catching all those stupid imps and now I’m hungry and he said I had to stay home but he wouldn’t give me anything to eat and I’m hungry, Matt.”

I could feel it zinging down the private line. She was hungry and probably did require a feed. Things had been too hectic for me to check her haemoglobin this morning so I had no idea how low she might be.

Roberts trooped past, carrying two cat carriers full of snoring imps.

“Look, Merce,” I began, fishing in my pocket for my keys.

Mercy watched Roberts put the carriers down and go back for more. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing that interests you.” I held up the keys to the Moto Guzzi. “If I give you the key to the blood fridge, will you promise to go home, have one bag and…”

She wandered into the garage, leaving me talking to myself.

“I may as well not even be here,” I muttered. “Come on, Mercy. You have to go home and eat. Get back here.”

“What’s this?” she asked, pointing to the circle.

“Matt’s latest madness,” Roberts said.

“Will it hurt him?” she asked Roberts.

“We can only hope.”

“Shut up. You’re not helping,” I said to him as he went back past. “Mercy, enough. Please, if you’re so hungry, just go home. Two bags.”

That caught her attention. “Two whole bags?”

“Two whole bags.”

She looked between the keys dangling from my hand and the circle.

“Why can’t she stay?” Roberts asked in a low voice as he came back with a small, portable stereo. “Wouldn’t it be best to keep her around in case things go wrong? Hey, who am I kidding. I mean, when things go wrong.”

“If she sticks around, things will go wrong quicker than usual.”

For the first time he seemed to really look at me. “What’s with the face thing?”

“That was things going wrong last night.”

“Oh.” Then after a moment’s thought. “Ooh.” He marched into the garage. “Hey, kiddo. Better get on your bike, hey? Wouldn’t want to miss the main course of yummy blood.”

That seemed to decide Mercy’s mind. She skipped out of the garage and swiped the keys from my hand in a blur of moonlight. As she got on the bike and picked up her helmet, her little nose wrinkled.

“
Ew! Smells like ghoul.”

“Wear mine, then.”