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MacDuin gave me a measured look, much like he was trying to decide whether to swat me or not. "That is precisely why the Guild should take over the investigation. I am very curious as to how a person with no abilities has managed to overcome several fey, Mr. Grey."

"Your victim's beaten up. That's out of character for our perpetrator," I said.

MacDuin nodded. "There was a tussle in the apprehension."

"No, I think Connor's right," said Murdock. "This doesn't fit. The only other witness we've had was purely accidental. The perpetrator we're seeking knows how to do his work out of sight. It's no secret we have a composite sketch, so I think he'd be even more careful now. I think we have a copycat here."

MacDuin leaned forward and fished a clear plastic bag off Ruiz's desk. He laid it carefully on a stack of papers. Inside the bag was a black round stone. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but few people outside this room know about this."

We stared at the bag. Murdock looked at me, and I shrugged.

The commissioner stirred in his seat. "I take it by all the silence that this stone has been held back?" Murdock nodded. The commissioner rubbed his eyes. "Let's split the baby for now. Lorcan, you take the victim, interview him, whatever. Just don't lose him. We'll hold the suspect for now while I decide the best course."

"I must protest, Commissioner," macDuin said.

The commissioner stood and offered his hand. "I know you must, Lorcan. But it's late, and I'm tired, and we'll all feel better in the light of day. Perhaps we can continue this discussion before our meeting tomorrow?"

For a moment, it looked like macDuin wasn't going to shake hands. He nodded finally and shook. "We'll speak in the morning then." He waved his hand at the door. "Keeva, if you will help me escort the victim."

She opened the door, and they left. As I turned back to Murdock, I saw the commissioner give him a sly wink.

"Thank you for your help, Connor," the commissioner said, offering his hand to me. The man did know how to dismiss someone graciously.

"It was good to see you again, sir," I said. I gave Murdock a quick glance and closed the door behind me. Everyone looked up as I walked through the squad room, but I ignored them. Pushing open the front door of the building, I caught up with macDuin and Keeva and their charge.

"Good catch, Lorcan," I said.

"Thank you," he said, studiously looking away from me up the street.

I sidled up next to him. "I mean, like Murdock said, it was a lucky thing you came along when you did."

"Yes." He still wouldn't look at me.

"So, Lorcan, what were you doing in the Weird this time of night?"

He finally looked at me. "Since you are a former member of the Guild, Connor, I will do you the courtesy of telling you that I was monitoring an operation. And that's the last question I'll answer this evening."

Keeva stepped between us. "Connor, why don't I call you tomorrow? We can wrap up the file."

A long black limo pulled up to the curb. They stood waiting for the driver to get out and open the door. Lorcan and Keeva slipped into the backseat, the two of them sitting like statues. The prostitute and the driver stood uncertainly facing each other. I touched the victim lightly on the elbow as I guided him toward the door.

I leaned forward so macDuin could see me, barely holding back a smile. "Interesting hair color on your victim, Lorcan. When I was at the Guild, we did this little thing called profiling. Things like all the victims having the same hair color. I'd've noticed all the victims were light blonds. Not dark."

MacDuin shot me a look that could have curdled milk.

The driver trotted back around the car, jumped in, and pulled away. I watched until the taillights disappeared around a corner. I walked back to Murdock's car and dropped into the passenger seat. None of the uniforms bothered me. They were used to seeing me and obviously figured Murdock would be okay with me sitting in his car. Otherwise, you don't touch a cop's car without getting a good poke with a stick. I sat staring through the dirty windshield, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

I didn't have to wait long for Murdock. He came flying out of the station house, started the car before he was barely in it, and tore down the street. I didn't say a word as he weaved through traffic. After several startling turns, he pulled up in front of my building and turned off the engine. We sat listening to a small pinging noise from under the hood.

"What was that all about with you and your father's wink?"

He shrugged. "It's a game we play. Whenever the Guild's in the room, he likes to give them a hard time. Only because of his position, he doesn't want to look biased. So, he uses me to rag on them."

"He doesn't like the fey much."

Murdock laughed. "No, he just doesn't like you."

"Thanks."

Murdock smirked. "Look at it from his point of view. The fey cause him more trouble than anything else. The Guild dumps all kinds of cases on an overloaded police department. Then, when it looks like we might actually have a chance of nailing a big fat fey fish, the Guild pulls rank and takes the case away. So, no, the fey aren't his favorite people."

I shifted uncomfortably on the seat. "This guy might be a xeno gang member, but there's simply no way he could have done it. A human might get away with it once, but after the first or second murder, everyone's been on their toes. Between Tansy and the bartender at the Flitterbug, we know our guy's got a strong essence, and it definitely is not that mental case rocking in a cell. And the victim's all wrong. Hair's too dark. I didn't smell any alcohol. I got a good whiff of his essence, too. I'm willing to bet he's never been in the Weird until tonight."

"You can tell that?"

I shrugged. "Sometimes. You spend enough time in one place, you pick up some ambient essence. The Weird has so many fey in it, you can definitely tell if someone lives or works here."

Murdock exhaled loudly. "Why is the Guild suddenly so interested?"

I shook my head. "I've seen Keeva twice in less than a week. That's no coincidence. They're hiding something."

"Do you think it might be a rogue Guild agent?"

"It's a possibility, though I think I would have heard rumor of it by now. Keeva and macDuin are quite keen about reputation. They may hate each other, but they hate looking bad more."

Murdock rubbed his hands roughly over his face. "Well, let's call it a night. There'll be a press conference tomorrow."

I got out of the car and stretched. The sky was beginning to lighten. Murdock was up way past his bedtime. I rested my hand on the roof of the car as he started it. Murdock leaned across the passenger seat and gave me a significant look. "There's only one problem with all this, Connor. It's Tuesday, and we don't have a dead body. So, where's our guy?"

I shook my head. "Maybe we drove him underground. Or maybe we just haven't found the body."

I didn't watch him drive off. I was too exhausted to walk up the stairs, so I took the interminable elevator ride. Once inside the apartment, I stripped down and fell back onto the futon without bothering to open it.

I knew I was missing something. Keeva might have been reading the police reports, but I was handling the evidence, touching it, sleeping with it. Our occasionally friendly competition aside, I couldn't figure how she could have got a jump on me and just appeared at the Flitterbug. And macDuin's being in the neighborhood was too convenient. It was possible he was there with Keeva at some point. Their so-called murderer had to be a frame job. With a pang of depression at the thought, I knew one way I might find out. I settled deeper into the pillows, contemplating how I would handle being back inside the Guildhouse.