He snorted. "When I start drinking my soy-milk shaken, not stirred, then we'll talk. As for an in, if there is one, Promise will know."
And she did. Between her rich dead husbands and being a vampire, Promise was prominent on the social/charitable and nonhuman scene. If it was a fat, feebleminded rich guy you needed or a man-starved socialite, she just had to pick up a phone. The supernatural world was a little trickier to navigate because of trust issues, alliances, and creatures that didn't think there was a damn thing wrong with murder. But in the end she came through for us.
A long ride uptown on the A train later, we were at Columbia Presbyterian talking with a Japanese healing entity, O-Kuni-Nushi, known to his oblivious human colleagues as Ken Nushi, doctor and special seminar instructor for the premed upperclassmen at Columbia University.
A healing spirit, more powerful than a human healer by far, would've come in handy not so long ago, but he didn't know Promise at the time and vice versa. He knew of someone who knew someone who knew someone and so on. As it turned out, he could still do us a favor. First, he was actually willing to pay us. Second, he was able to confirm the students were missing and the college was more concerned than the cops were at this point.
"You are correct. Two students have disappeared on campus over the past two days, also a maintenance man." Behind his desk, Dr. Nushi steepled long, thin fingers, two of which were banded with jade rings. One was white, one red. He had a face that was oddly monkeylike—large ears, black hair in a widow's peak, broad nose, and soulful eyes. Even more oddly, indifferent student that I was, I happened to remember a mythology lesson from years before. In the Japanese mythos, monkeys were thought to bring good fortune. If you needed a doctor, good fortune would be a nice bonus along with a cheerful bedside manner.
"I cannot say what has taken them," Dr. Nushi continued. "But there is something here. A predator, human or not, I can't say. But there is a stillness…an air…" He looked at me, then opened his hands in a "who knows?" gesture. I had an air about me too, he seemed to think, but he remained silent on that subject. Luckily. Niko cared for comments about my Auphe heritage even less than I did. "I cannot put a finger on it," he said, "but I know. Death is here. A good physician recognizes it. This is walking, talking Death and it is using our campus as a feeding ground. Human or non, I want it gone. This is a place of knowledge, not death. But I didn't know what to do with the police saying we must wait forty-eight hours. I didn't know who to contact, not until Mrs. Nottinger called with the offer of your services." He nodded his head toward Promise.
"Sawney Beane." Niko had bowed to Dr. Nushi before he'd taken a seat. Now, in black on black, he sat straight in the deep blue brocade chair with face impassive. "It may be the one we're looking for hunts here now. It may be, as you say, a human. Either way, we will look into it." He looked at Promise, then back at me. "The tunnels and sewers might not be to his liking. He'll no doubt have several prospects going at one time, trying to find the best possible location for his true home. Once he settles on one he'll stay there, but I don't think he has yet. He could be hunting here and taking his victims back to whichever location he's trying out now. Whichever cave."
"If that is true, you will certainly be more help than the police," Nushi said.
"The police aren't here, then?" Promise asked. We knew they wouldn't find Sawney, if he was hunting here, but if they were patrolling the campus in force, they could make things difficult for our investigation. There should've already been rampant speculation about a serial killer with as many bodies as Sawney was leaving around.
But the thing was, bodies weren't being left around. We'd seen that, having checked the paper for several days after finding the bodies in the trees. There'd been nothing until the slayings at the mental institute. No stories on the ones in the trees or on the various body parts floating in the tunnels that could've been stumbled across by the construction crews. Mysteries. We had too much on our plate already, but it was something we'd need to come back to—eventually. Right now … it could wait, but we'd look into it. Maybe in a few weeks … or months. After Sawny, a vacation was the only thing I wanted, not mysteries.