He nodded. “Officers from that district of Lakeside are looking into it.” He studied the Wolf. “What should they be looking for, Mr. Wolfgard?”
Another hesitation. Then, “Jars. Smoke in a jar. A hand … or something else.”
Gods above and below. “Is anyone missing from the Courtyard?”
“No. Vlad was away from the Courtyard when Meg … freaked … even before she spoke prophecy.” Simon pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Monty. “You might find these stories interesting. But you should be careful who else you tell about them.”
The titles weren’t familiar to him, but he’d read other books by a couple of the authors. “Do you have any of these books in stock?”
“Some.”
The Others didn’t admit to vulnerabilities. They didn’t willingly share information that could be used against them. For Simon to be pointing him in a particular direction indicated the depth of the Wolf’s concern.
“Is Lakeside going to survive whatever’s coming?” he asked.
“I hope so,” Simon replied. “But if humans declare war on the Sanguinati …”
“I, and the rest of the Lakeside police force, will do everything we can to prevent that kind of conflict.” Suppressing a shiver, Monty stood. “Thank you for your time. I’ll go downstairs and pick up those books on my way out.”
Monty set two bags of books on the patrol car’s backseat. Then he got in and said to Kowalski, “Extra assignment. Pick half the books. I’ll take the rest. For now, let’s go to Lakeside Hospital. I’d like to catch Dr. Lorenzo before his shift starts.”
Kowalski looked at the bags of books, then put the car in gear and drove out of the Courtyard. “If you need information in a hurry, Ruthie could read a third of the books.”
“No. You don’t need to keep the reading material a secret from her, but I think it’s best if Ruth isn’t involved in gathering this information.”
“Gods below, Lieutenant, what kind of information are we looking for?”
“Anything in those stories about trapping or killing Sanguinati.”
Kowalski didn’t say anything else during the drive to the hospital.
Monty found Dr. Lorenzo easily enough and noted that the doctor didn’t look pleased to see him.
“I’m not on retainer to the Lakeside Police Department,” Lorenzo said. “And while I want to establish an office in the Market Square, I’m not on call twenty-four/seven for the Others.”
“No, sir, you’re not,” Monty replied with his usual courtesy. “But you are the doctor who is looking for some inside access to the Courtyard—and a way to study a blood prophet.”
Lorenzo bristled. “Is that a threat, Lieutenant? If I’m not available to answer questions whenever you drop by, you’ll try to influence Wolfgard’s decision about me having an office in the Courtyard?”
Monty shook his head. “The Others—and especially Simon Wolfgard—are still deciding if they’re going to trust you. And unless they don’t have a choice, they aren’t likely to call you here. But I think they gave me some information knowing I would pass it on to you.”
Now he had the doctor’s attention.
“Did something happen to Meg Corbyn?” Lorenzo asked.
Monty repeated what Simon had told him about the scrape on Meg’s ankle. It didn’t give him any comfort when Lorenzo looked disturbed.
“Do they have cameras in the Courtyard? Or some kind of ability to make a record of that scrape that I can put in Ms. Corbyn’s medical file?”
“It’s just a scrape,” Monty protested.
“On you and me it would be. But you said she saw things, spoke prophecy. That means that skin has been ‘used.’ There is speculation that cutting too close to a previous cut can cause mental or emotional complications, maybe even madness.”
They looked at each other, remembering the crosshatch of scars on the upper part of Meg Corbyn’s left arm.
Lorenzo sighed. “If that scrape wasn’t deep enough to leave a scar, I want—and Simon Wolfgard should want—a record of what skin was scraped. It will be important to know, especially if another cut is made around the same area sometime in the future.” He hesitated. “Have you heard the slogan Humans First and Last?”
“Doctor, if you’re part of that movement, stay away from the Courtyard. For all our sakes.”
“I’m not, no. But I was approached at a conference recently by someone who was fishing to see if I was interested in joining the ranks of believers. People talk, Lieutenant. Once it’s known that I’m giving any kind of continued assistance to the Courtyard … there could be repercussions.”
“There could be,” Monty agreed. “Especially if people don’t stop to realize that helping the Others may prevent minor conflicts from escalating into a war. If you get any odd phone calls or receive any threatening letters, you call me.”
Lorenzo nodded. “If that’s all, I need to start my shift.”
When Monty returned to the patrol car, Kowalski gave him an odd look. “Turn on your mobile phone, Lieutenant. The investigating officers who are tracing the car that struck the city worker want to talk to you.”
Monty walked into Captain Burke’s office and sat in the visitor’s chair without invitation.
Burke folded his hands, placed them on the desk blotter, and leaned forward. “You heard from the officers who were looking for the men driving that car?”
“They found the house … and two college boys still hopped up on whatever they had taken before they baited the street and waited for the Crows,” Monty said, fighting the sick feeling that had come over him after taking that call. “When the officers searched the house, they found a hand in a jar, most likely pickled in some kind of brine. Supposedly it was a Sanguinati hand. They found eyes. The label claimed they were Wolf eyes, but they weren’t amber or gray, so that’s unlikely. When the boys were taken into custody, they kept screaming, ‘We’re going to be the Wolves now.’”
“Where did they get the hand and eyes?” Burke asked.
“An esoteric shop near the university. The front room had the kind of edgy merchandise you would expect to find where a lot of young people are gathered. But the back room …” Monty cleared his throat. “Since I could confirm that none of the residents of the Lakeside Courtyard are missing, it’s assumed that what the investigating officers found in the back room was brought in from somewhere else. Probably from Toland.” The city was a major port for ships that carried passengers and cargo to and from the Cel-Romano Alliance of Nations and other human ports around the world. Easy enough to hide one box of emotionally volatile merchandise among the legitimate cargo in the baggage car of a train traveling between Toland and Lakeside.
Burke sat back. “So the eyes might be human or animal but don’t belong to any of our terra indigene.”
“That’s correct,” Monty said.
“And the hand? Could it belong to a Sanguinati?”
“Not one from this Courtyard.” He hesitated. “Ms. Corbyn had a vision this morning. About jars and hands … and the Sanguinati. Captain, if that merchandise came from Toland …” He thought of his daughter, Lizzy, living in the Big City with her mother, and fear suddenly made him light-headed.
“The Sanguinati are the dominant earth natives in the Toland Courtyard, backed by the Wolves and whatever else lives there. If any of them have gone missing …” Burke blew out a sigh. “This just gets better and better. All right, Lieutenant. You keep track of the investigation here. I’ll see if I can find someone in the Toland Police Department who doesn’t use his brains to wipe his backside.” He gave Monty a fierce smile. “I didn’t forget that you came from there, but you’re not one of them anymore.”
“Good to know.” Monty pushed out of the chair. Then he stopped. “Should I tell Simon Wolfgard what was found at that house and in the shop?”
“If there were any birds around those places, he probably already knows, so a courtesy call would be prudent.” Burke looked uncomfortable. “This isn’t the best time for it, but I’d like you to arrange a meeting between me and Mr. Wolfgard at his convenience.”
“Why?”
Burke took so long to answer, Monty wasn’t sure he would. “I want to ask him for a favor.”