"So it's you," Karl said.
Vollman gave us raised eyebrows.
"We'd heard that someone took over after Martin Thackery got staked," I told him. "But none of the supes we know would give us a name. You're the new boyar, the Man."
"As good a term as any, I suppose," Vollman said, nodding.
"Well then, Mr Man," Karl said, "why don't you tell us who you think killed George Kulick, before my partner and me are too old to do anything about it?" Sometimes I really like that kid.
But I didn't much like what Vollman told us next. "I have absolutely no idea," he said.
So much for our hopes of clearing this case quickly. There was silence while Karl and I digested the bad news, then I said to Vollman, "But you must have some idea about the kind of person who did it."
"I might," Vollman said. "But then I expect you have already reached some conclusions of your own."
My chair creaked as I leaned forward. "Whoever did Kulick that way has got a strong stomach and good nerves," I said. "He didn't lose control, like they sometimes do. He just kept doing stuff to Kulick until the poor bastard broke and told him where the safe was. Gave up the combination, too. He must've, since the safe wasn't punched, peeled, or blown."
"Kulick was tough, you gotta give him that," Karl said. "He took a hell of a lot of punishment before he finally gave it up."
"He had sworn an oath," Vollman said stiffly. "He was chosen to safeguard the book because he was the kind of man who takes such oaths seriously."
"Don't be too hard on him," I said. "He suffered for that oath, in ways you can't even imagine."
Vollman gave me a bleak look. "Do not underestimate what my imagination is capable of, Sergeant." He gave a long sigh. "But you are right. Kulick's memory will be honored for what he did – or tried to do."
"Still, the average criminal, no matter how motivated, hasn't got the gumption to carry out that kind of systematic torture," I said. "This is somebody with a real vicious streak. And then there's the business with the money."
"The money that was left in the safe, you mean," Vollman said.
"Right. Even if all he wanted was the book, the killer could have taken the money, anyway. If he had, we'd be assuming a simple robbery as the motive, and the Major Crimes guys would be investigating it. Which means the perp is either dumb, or arrogant beyond belief – doesn't give a shit what we know, or think."
"The individual who committed these acts is certainly not stupid, Sergeant," Vollman said. "But unbridled arrogance is not only possible – it is virtually certain in this instance. Making use of the spells contained in the Opus Mago would be similar to what a friend of mine once said about studying the work of the philosopher Hegeclass="underline" one must be highly intelligent in order to do such, and profoundly stupid to wish to."
• • • •
Karl started to say something, but he was interrupted by a commotion from the reception area. I stood up, went to the door of the squad room, and looked out.
Four people, three men and a woman, were standing at the P.A.'s desk, all of them screaming at Louise the Tease. From what I could gather, one of their tribe had been busted earlier in the evening, and they'd all come down to demand his release, on the grounds that he was king of the gypsies. It's the same crap they usually pull when one of their own gets picked up. Everybody's the king of the gypsies, unless it's a woman who's been arrested. She gets to be queen.
Louise the Tease is known not to take no shit from nobody, but she was outnumbered, and nobody can kick up a fuss like a Gypsy. I was about to head over there and give her a hand when I realized that Vollman was standing just over my right shoulder. "Permit me," he said quietly.
I moved aside, and he stood in the doorway, where I'd been. I expected him to go into Reception and approach the P.A.'s desk, but he stood where he was.
"Chavaia!"
The gypsies must have understood the word, because they all turned toward Vollman, looking both startled and annoyed. Then they saw who it was, and the annoyance vanished like a coin in a conjuring trick. Both their voices and expressions became very still.
"Dinili, te maren, denash! Te khalion tai te shingerdjon che gada par brajo ents chai plamendi!"
Vollman didn't yell, but it didn't look like they had any trouble hearing him. "Te lolirav phuv mure ratesa. Arctu viriumca ba treno al qua pashasha. Mucav!"
Without another word, the four gypsies turned and left the room. They didn't quite run.
Vollman nodded once, then turned and returned to his seat. I followed.
Karl stared at the old man. "What the hell did you say to them?"
Vollman produced the thin smile again. "I merely suggested they stop bothering the young lady and take their concerns elsewhere. Without delay."br/>
"I notice they didn't give you an argument," I said.
Vollman shrugged. "For some of these people, I am, as you say, The Man."
"So, what kind of person would want this book, the Opus Mago, bad enough to torture and kill for it?" I asked Vollman. "We're talking about a wizard or witch for starters, right?"
"Almost certainly," he said. "No one else would have any hope of being able to make use of it."
"You said something about 'arrogant' before," I added.
"Indeed, yes," Vollman said. "As I told you, the Opus Mago contains spells and rituals for invoking the darkest of dark powers. It is considered a book of forbidden knowledge, and closely guarded, for that reason."
"So where's the arrogance come in?" Karl asked.
"In the belief that anyone, regardless of training or experience, can hope to control such powers once they have been summoned," Vollman said.
"You're saying nobody could do it," Karl said.
Vollman shook his head slowly. "I will not say that, not with certainty. But I think it highly unlikely that such control, even if it were achieved, could be maintained for long."
"Maybe we ought to stop pussyfooting around this with terms like 'dark powers' and all that," I said. "You're not talking about just conjuring up some demon, are you?"