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  The three of us watched as the two agents made their angry way across the squad room and out the door. A couple of other detectives at their desks turned and looked, too. That much rage is impressive, even when it's not directed at you.

  McGuire sighed and tapped the newspaper a couple of times. "Histrionics aside," he said, "this is pretty goddamn bad."

  Karl and I sat down in the chairs the Feebies had vacated. "Yeah, I know," Karl said. "The public is gonna go nuts over this, which means pressure on the politicos, which means more pressure on us."

  "As if we needed it," McGuire said.

  "Boss," I said, "have you ever noticed that the stuff that's published in the People's Voice always seems like an echo of the bullshit put out by the Church of the True Cross?"

  McGuire glanced down at the screaming headlines again. "You figure there's a connection?"

  "At this point, I'd be surprised if there wasn't."

  "Even if there is, so what? There's no law says a church can't own a newspaper."

  "Yeah, but they're hiding it, aren't they? If so, they're doing it for a reason."

  "You got any thoughts as to what that reason might be?" McGuire asked.

  "No, not at the moment."

  "Then bug me about it when you do, not before."

  "No matter who owns that rag," Karl said, "somebody sent them copies of those fuckin' videos. Since it wasn't us, I gotta wonder–"

   Louise appeared at McGuire's door and said, "Excuse the interruption, sir." She looked at me. "Rachel Proctor on the phone. Says it's urgent."

  I turned to McGuire. "You mind, boss?"

  "No, go on – get out of here, both of you. I've got calls of my own to make. When I tell the chief, I bet he's gonna make Thorwald sound like a Mary Poppins."

  I walked quickly to my desk, pushed a blinking button on the phone, and picked up the receiver. "Hello, Rachel?"

  "Stan, one of the best ideas you had was when you suggested I tell the other witches that those murderers were still at large – although I like to think I would've thought of it myself."

  "I'm sure you would," I said. "What's up?"

  "I just got a call from Carol Ann Cosgrove."

  "Yeah, I know Carol Ann."

  "Apparently one of those commando assholes made a grab at her, but she had a spell ready to protect herself."

  "She froze him, like you did?"

  "No, she used a sleep spell," Rachel said. "He's dead to the world, until she wakes him."

  "Good for her. I'm glad she was quick enough, and kept her head."

  "Me, too," she said. "Thing is, Carol Ann isn't sure who she should call to report it – the regular cops, the Supe Squad, or–"

  "Rachel, are you home, or in your office?"

  "Office. I could've come up, but wasn't sure if you were there. I was gonna call your personal number if Louise said you were out."

  "Great," I said. "We'll be down in a minute."

  I put the phone down and looked at Karl. "Come on," I said, and turned toward the door.

  As we walked down the hall, Karl asked, "What've we got, Stan?"

  "A break. If we play it right, maybe a big one."

"Did Carol Ann say where the perp is now?" I asked Rachel.

  "Curled up on the floor of her garage," she said. "He was hiding there, and apparently made a grab for her when she got out of the car."

  "How long will he stay out?" I asked.

  "I know the spell she used. It'll remain in place until she lifts it. I mean, she has a moral obligation to wake him before he dies of thirst, or something, but that won't be a danger for several days."

  I thought for a couple of moments. "You mind getting her on the phone for me, Rachel?"

  "Sure."

  Rachel made the call.

  "Hi, Carol Ann, it's Rachel again. I've got Stan Markowski from Occult Crimes with me. You know Stan, don't you? Good. He'd like to speak with you, so I'm going to hand him the phone now, OK? All right, just a second."

  "Hi, Carol Ann."

  "Hello, Stan. Long time."

  "Yeah, it is. I hear you've had quite a night."

  "To say the least. I don't think my heart rate has returned to normal yet – but it's better than it was."

  "You'll be fine, soon," I said. "Tell me, how was the guy dressed, do you recall?"

  "He looks like something out of the movies, Stan. Black clothing, even his stocking cap."

  "OK, that's what I figured. Uh, Carol Ann, I'm going to ask you to do something kind of… unusual."

  Her voice became guarded. "Go ahead and ask."

  "Well, instead of sending a squad car over there right now to pick up Sleeping Beauty, I'd like to leave him where he is for a few hours. Think you can stand that?"

  After a short pause she said, "Yeah, I suppose so. What's going on, Stan? Are all the cells full tonight?"

  "Not exactly. But I want time to arrange for some special accommodations for this fella."

  "What kind of accommodations?" Carol Ann asked.

  "It's probably better that you don't know that," I said. "But I'll tell you this much – if I can make my idea work, I might be able to find out who's sending these thugs after you and your sister witches."

  Actually, I already knew the answer to that question – what I needed was proof.

  "All right, Stan. I suppose I can go along with that – with one proviso. Are you planning to do harm to him? Because, although part of me would love that, I cannot permit it to happen as a result of my magic."

  "Carol Ann, I'm not planning to harm a hair under his little stocking cap. Now, there's just one more thing I need to ask you…"

  As Karl and I walked back to the squad room, I reached for my own phone. It only took a few seconds to find Lacey's number and call it.