Night and Day (15 page)

Why the rush? It wasn’t like I’d still be at the office that late.

They tell Sara that I’d been arrested. I leaned forward and turned to the next page of the
report. An arrest that actually didn’t happen for almost an hour and a half. Holstein had reported
me in custody at 10:12 pm.

Somewhere in there, Uptown cops also picked up Jedron Marsch at Downtown station,
saying that Marsch was involved in Joshua’s murder. I paged through the report. No mention of
Marsch at all.

I quickly skimmed the rest of the file. They ID’d Joshua’s body and autopsied him. Pulled
some pieces of a 10mm round out of his chest. The head had been severed in a single stroke by
an unknown bladed weapon.

Their working theory was that he’d been shot in the heart and then the head had been
removed. They had no theory why the head had been taken by the killer. The crime scene crew
had searched the apartment, but it wasn’t there.

Killing a Vee isn’t all that difficult. But only one thing will do it. You stop their heart from
beating and they die. Simple enough. Damage the heart so severely that it no longer functions,
or cut the connection to the brain that tells the heart to beat. One or the other will do the trick.
Both is overkill.

Closing the file, I shook my head. None of it made sense.

I didn’t know if Joshua’s murder was connected to the two dead Vees found Tuesday
morning, but all three had been killed by gunshot wounds to the chest followed by decapitation.
It wasn’t necessarily a connection, but it was an interesting coincidence, if nothing else. And I
had a time line that didn’t add up and seemed, at best, incomplete.

It was time to start working with evidence I could trust. “Cynthia!” I called, hoping she
hadn’t packed it in and gone home.

The door opened and she stuck her head inside. “Yeah?”

“You still handle the case logs, right?”

She nodded. “Miss Tindell does some of the filing, but I keep the log.”

I jerked my chin at the pile of files next to Joshua’s desk. “Some cops were here the night
Joshua was murdered. According to Sara, they took files with them and left those scattered on
the floor. Can you go through them, check it against what’s in the file cabinets, and figure out
what they took?”

Cynthia looked at the files and nodded. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“If you’re not busy, could you jump on it right away?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Sure. Let me do a printout of the log so I have something to
compare them against.”

It took her twenty minutes to go through the files, get them all back in the file cabinets and
compare all of our files with the sheets of paper in her hand. I watched in silence.

When she was done, she turned to me and said, “Okay, there are three files missing.
Klinger, Marsch, and Dowling.”

I knew who MaryAnn Klinger and Jedron Marsch were, though I couldn’t imagine why
Holstein would have taken their files. Dowling, on the other hand, didn’t ring any bells.

“What was the Dowling case?” I asked.

She looked at the case log printout. “There’s no information in the log, of
course. Just a file number. It was one of Mr. Thomas’s cases about three months ago. That’s all I
can tell you.”

“Sara might remember it,” I said. “I’ll ask when she gets in.”

“I’ll ask her,” Cynthia said quietly. “It’s about time I introduced myself.” She was silent for
a moment, then added, “Just don’t forget your promise, Charlie.”

Before I could say anything, she was gone, closing the door behind her. The mention of my
promise to her reminded me of another promise I’d made recently. I didn’t think Jedron
Marsch’s sister was in real danger, but I made a mental note to stop by and look in on her in the
morning before I went to see Father McCray.

I checked my new watch. Almost four-thirty. Time enough to grab a quick nap on the
couch before everyone showed up.

But before I could take a nap, I had one other thing I needed to do. I pulled the cell phone
out of my pocket and pressed the first speed-dial number.

It was answered on the first ring. “Area Operations,” a woman said.

I cleared my throat. “This is Charlie Welles. I understand you’ve been told I might be
calling.”

“Yes, Mr. Welles,” she said quickly. “Would you like to be transferred to the Deputy Area
Governor’s residence?”

“No,” I replied. “I just need some information.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “What can we do for you?”

“I’d like the last known address of a Jerry DiPierro, as well as anything you have on him.”

“Human or vampire?” she asked.

“Vampire.”

“This could take fifteen minutes or so,” she said. “Would you like me to call you back?”

“No, I’ll be seeing Miss Takeda from the Deputy Area Governor’s staff later,” I said. “If
you’ll just make sure she has that information when she gets here, that will be fine.”

“Understood, sir,” the woman said. “Will there be anything else?”

“That’ll do it.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, and she hung up.

I told Cynthia I was taking a nap, and stretched out on the couch. Closing my eyes, I tried
not to think about all the questions I had. With any luck, I’d start getting answers in a few hours.

Chapter Thirteen

I woke to an unfamiliar, trilling sound that wouldn’t stop. It took me a second to realize it
was the cellphone. As I sat up, I glanced at the clock on the wall. Twenty to seven. Probably
Jimmy Mutz calling with the names of the cops who’d picked up the Marsch kid.

“Gimme some names, Jimmy,” I said, answering the phone.

“Phillip Bain,” a curt, familiar voice said.

“General Bain,” I said. “Sorry, I was expecting another call.”

“So I gather,” he said. “By the way, I go by ‘Mister’ these days. I can’t fault Miss Takeda
for using my former rank, given our history, but I’m no longer in the military.”

“Mister, General, all the same to me,” I said.

“I’m sure,” he replied. “Miss Takeda prepared a briefing on your proposed activities this
evening and had it sent to my office. Do you consider this your best course of action?”

“More like my only course of action,” I said. “I have to go where the evidence is, and where
the evidence leads. Did you happen to look at the timeline of the police investigation of Joshua’s
murder in the police report she provided me?”

“Not my area of expertise,” Bain said. “If I was going to look into Joshua’s murder
personally
, I wouldn’t need you, Mr. Welles.”

“Good point.”

“I have no objection to your plans. How you conduct your investigation is your concern.
My only interest is in a positive outcome. If I ask a question, it’s always framed with that goal in
mind.”

“Understood.”

“I’m calling on another matter. Officer Richard Nedelmann. You instructed Miss Takeda to
have him detached from his normal police duties and assigned to your investigation.”

“That’s right,” I said. “You told me that I could choose my own assistant for this case.”

“I told you I would consider suggestions you had regarding a human assistant,” Bain replied.
“Not quite the same thing as bringing one aboard without clearing it with me first.”

Bain didn’t sound angry, but I didn’t know him well enough to be sure. Anybody who rises
to the rank of general in any branch of the military can probably smile and make small talk with
you, even if you’re standing in the gallows with a noose around your neck, waiting for the
trapdoor to open.

“I knew that you’d want me to have an assistant I was comfortable with.”

“The only thing that you know for certain is that I want Joshua’s murderer found,” he
replied. “Don’t fool yourself into imagining that you know anything more about me or what I
want.” He paused. “Miss Takeda included Officer Nedelmann’s file. It makes for interesting
reading, though there are things I find . . . troubling. Why Nedelmann?”

I was silent for a moment, then said, “I could tell you that Dick Nedelmann is a good cop,
that I’ve known him since before the war, that he’s got the kind of street smarts that will be an
asset to this investigation. But you’d say that there are plenty of good cops out there with street
smarts. And you’d be right.”

“Exactly.”

“So I’ll cut to the chase. The troubling things in Dick’s file. I assume you’re referring to his
. . . less than positive attitude toward Vees.”

Bain chuckled drily. “If you call what has been described as a blind and unreasonable hatred
of vampires to be ‘less than positive’, then yes, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Blind, maybe,” I said. “Unreasonable . . . well, Dick has his reasons. Starting with the
death of his daughter in the camp. She was a loser in one of the Blood Lotteries. Dick and his
wife had to watch as they herded her onto the bus and took her away with the others.”

“It was a difficult time.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Especially when you were one of the cows.”

Bain ignored the comment. “So how does Officer Nedelmann’s attitude toward vampires
make him suitable to be part of this investigation?”

“Simple. Most people I know are terrified of Vees. Cops included. Dick isn’t scared of
Vees. The truth is, he doesn’t give a shit. He’ll treat a lead or a suspect as just that, whether
human or Vee. Just like I will.”

“You may have no feelings one way or the other about a suspect because he is a vampire. Are you sure the
same can be said of Officer Nedelmann? It seems to me that his hatred of vampires could be
counter-productive to your investigation.”

“I disagree. Dick was a good cop before the war. I want to give him a chance to be a good
cop again.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Come on, General,” I said. “We both know what human cops are. Peacekeepers. You’ve
got half a million people in this city. Put humans out on the street, in uniform, and citizens
feel like things are almost normal again, almost like they were before. But we both know, those
cops are there to keep the peace, nothing more. Take them away and the good citizens of this
city would be breaking into your house with stakes and hatchets while you sleep.” I paused.
“Real police work, police work that matters, is done by Vee cops. Anything more than a scuffle
in a bar or petty theft gets routed to the night shift.”

“Point made,” Bain said after a moment’s silence. “All right, I’ll approve Officer
Nedelmann’s assignment for the duration of this investigation. But it does raise another possible
issue, one which you’re not aware of. Miss Takeda.”

“What about her?”

“Do you know anything about the Code of Bushido, Mr. Welles?”

“Japanese thing,” I said. “Some kind of warrior code or something.” I laughed. “I’ve seen
a few samurai movies in my time.”

“In recent years, Miss Takeda has . . . rediscovered her roots, you might say,” Bain said.
“She’s fourth generation Japanese-American, grew up on beaches and Big Macs outside Los
Angeles. Until roughly three years ago, I seriously doubt she even knew what a samurai was.
That’s no longer the case.”

“Really into it now, eh?”

“Very much so,” he replied. “Which might present a problem if Officer Nedelmann is part
of your investigative unit.”

“Why? Samurai don’t like Jewish cops?”

Bain laughed. “No, it’s not Officer Nedelmann’s profession or religious beliefs. It’s the
way he might behave in her presence, considering his record.”

“Got it. Samurai don’t like loud-mouthed hostile Jewish cops.”

“That’s closer to it, yes,” he replied. “I’m no expert myself, but apparently this Bushido
Code that Miss Takeda now follows values politeness and respect, among other things. Should
Officer Nedelmann be impolite to her, or show a lack of respect, it’s entirely possible that she
might take action.”

“Action?”

“The lethal kind, Mr. Welles. Miss Takeda is a vampire and as we discussed last night, that
brings a certain . . . dynamic to her feelings about humans such as Officer Nedelmann, even
under the best of circumstances.”

“What, she feels superior to him?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Bain said. “He is, by her code, your vassal. This certainly places
him below her on her personal social scale. Should he show disrespect to her, or act impolitely
and thus demonstrate his lack of respect, she will almost certainly kill him without giving it a
second thought.”

“That could be a problem,” I said. “I didn’t bring Dick along to get him killed on day one.”

“I agree. With that in mind, are you certain you want Officer Nedelmann to be part of your
team?”

I sighed. “It’s a problem, but I don’t think it’s a deal breaker. Dick’s a smart guy. If I
explain the situation, I think he’ll keep his comments to himself.” I paused. “What about me? I
can be less than polite and respectful.”