Read Online The Devil You Know by Mike Carey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mike Carey
Ads: Link
services here any longer. I yanked my arm loose and stomped from the room while Rebecca Berger writhed in her husband’s arms and screamed hysterically about her lost Cassie and how the Devil had taken her away.
Devil, indeed.
I spent the latter part of the day and the early part of the evening down at the Blackwater Police Department. They put me in their very small interrogation room with a cooling cup of untouched coffee, and left me sitting there for over two hours. The building is small, about the size of a doublewide trailer. It sort of looks like one too. There’s one chief, one sergeant, one detective, and four officers. I know them all. The interrogation room doesn’t have fancy two-way mirrors or insulated walls. It has a folding table and two folding chairs. Blackwater isn’t exactly gangland Chicago. I could hear the officers talking and joking just outside. But I was told not to move until Sheriff Oswell arrived. I wasn’t sure what they would do to me if I tried to leave. Maybe revoke my library card?
Ben banged in at about a quarter to six. I expected angry. I got livid. “Nick, what the fuck?” he yelled at me. The activity in the other room immediately went on hiatus. You could have heard the proverbial pin drop. Then Ben seemed to catch himself, snorted a deep breath through his nose, and said in a lower voice, “I could cite your ass right now .”
I leaned on the table and said, “For what? I never touched her, Ben.”
“Thom Berger called the chief to complain. He wants to sue the department. He said you wanted to hit his wife.”
“I did not hit his wife,” I said as evenly as possible. “I’m sure he took her to Emergency. They’ll confirm I never laid a hand on her.”
He pointed a savage finger at me. “You made me look like an ass, Nick!” He stomped around the room while he got his temper back under control. I waited patiently. Then he asked, “What did you say to her to make her go off like that?”
“Nothing.” I felt a twinge. Lying to the police wasn’t something that sat well with me. That was called Obstruction of Justice. It was also called being a shitty cop. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You accused her of doing away with her own kid, didn’t you?”
“No.” Not a lie.
“What were you doing in the Bergers’ bedroom?”
“Looking for clues.”
“You were supposed to be looking through the girl’s bedroom, doing your hoodoo. You’re not a cop, Nick. What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“She did it.”
Ben stopped ranting and stomping and looked at me. “Did she confess to something?”
“No. But I know she did it. She’s not insane. She’s faking.”
Ben leaned over the folding table, gritting his teeth. “The paramedics said she may have suffered a stroke, Nick. You don’t fake a stroke.”
“She may have suffered a stroke because her body was under extreme duress.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think Rebecca Berger is possessed.”
Ben glared at me. For one moment Ben almost looked like he wanted to believe me. It was like a miniature war going on between his practical and spiritual sides. In the end, his practical side won out. “You’re done here, Nick. Get the fuck out. And if I see you anywhere near the Bergers, I will put your ass in jail personally.”
“The prodigal son returns,” Morgana said when I finally stepped into the shop at nightfall. She was selling a pair of college kids some books on magic. “I thought you’d never get back.”
“Well, as you can see, I’m back.”
Morgana stared at me a long, hard moment. “You are. Could you take the shop until closing? Anton is coming by to pick me up tonight. I’m speaking to his coven about crystal magic.”
I slid my arms out of my blazer and crumpled it up. Strangely, I felt sore all over, like I’d taken some knocks in a bar fight or something. And tired. I did not want to watch the shop until closing. Unfortunately, I had no choice.
Devil, indeed.
I spent the latter part of the day and the early part of the evening down at the Blackwater Police Department. They put me in their very small interrogation room with a cooling cup of untouched coffee, and left me sitting there for over two hours. The building is small, about the size of a doublewide trailer. It sort of looks like one too. There’s one chief, one sergeant, one detective, and four officers. I know them all. The interrogation room doesn’t have fancy two-way mirrors or insulated walls. It has a folding table and two folding chairs. Blackwater isn’t exactly gangland Chicago. I could hear the officers talking and joking just outside. But I was told not to move until Sheriff Oswell arrived. I wasn’t sure what they would do to me if I tried to leave. Maybe revoke my library card?
Ben banged in at about a quarter to six. I expected angry. I got livid. “Nick, what the fuck?” he yelled at me. The activity in the other room immediately went on hiatus. You could have heard the proverbial pin drop. Then Ben seemed to catch himself, snorted a deep breath through his nose, and said in a lower voice, “I could cite your ass right now .”
I leaned on the table and said, “For what? I never touched her, Ben.”
“Thom Berger called the chief to complain. He wants to sue the department. He said you wanted to hit his wife.”
“I did not hit his wife,” I said as evenly as possible. “I’m sure he took her to Emergency. They’ll confirm I never laid a hand on her.”
He pointed a savage finger at me. “You made me look like an ass, Nick!” He stomped around the room while he got his temper back under control. I waited patiently. Then he asked, “What did you say to her to make her go off like that?”
“Nothing.” I felt a twinge. Lying to the police wasn’t something that sat well with me. That was called Obstruction of Justice. It was also called being a shitty cop. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You accused her of doing away with her own kid, didn’t you?”
“No.” Not a lie.
“What were you doing in the Bergers’ bedroom?”
“Looking for clues.”
“You were supposed to be looking through the girl’s bedroom, doing your hoodoo. You’re not a cop, Nick. What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“She did it.”
Ben stopped ranting and stomping and looked at me. “Did she confess to something?”
“No. But I know she did it. She’s not insane. She’s faking.”
Ben leaned over the folding table, gritting his teeth. “The paramedics said she may have suffered a stroke, Nick. You don’t fake a stroke.”
“She may have suffered a stroke because her body was under extreme duress.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think Rebecca Berger is possessed.”
Ben glared at me. For one moment Ben almost looked like he wanted to believe me. It was like a miniature war going on between his practical and spiritual sides. In the end, his practical side won out. “You’re done here, Nick. Get the fuck out. And if I see you anywhere near the Bergers, I will put your ass in jail personally.”
“The prodigal son returns,” Morgana said when I finally stepped into the shop at nightfall. She was selling a pair of college kids some books on magic. “I thought you’d never get back.”
“Well, as you can see, I’m back.”
Morgana stared at me a long, hard moment. “You are. Could you take the shop until closing? Anton is coming by to pick me up tonight. I’m speaking to his coven about crystal magic.”
I slid my arms out of my blazer and crumpled it up. Strangely, I felt sore all over, like I’d taken some knocks in a bar fight or something. And tired. I did not want to watch the shop until closing. Unfortunately, I had no choice.
Similar Books
