Wolf Tide by Catherine Fox

Author:Catherine Fox [Fox, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2013-10-24T04:00:00+00:00

She woke next morning with a lurch. Rain against the porthole window. Not yet dawn. There it was again: a hammering at the door. That’s what had woken her. She reached for the lamp switch and pushed back the quilt. What on earth—Why was she still dressed? Hammer-hammer. Yes, I’m coming.

She stuck her feet in her boots and clomped down the stairs. The lamps were all on. Just a moment—that fecker charmed me again! Paran stood in front of the door. He raised a finger to his lips before she could yell at him.

‘It’s the Murder Squad. They have a search warrant.’

‘What? At this hour?’ Shit! The cutters. They were still standing propped in the corner. ‘Hide them!’ she mouthed.

Bang bang. ‘Ms Nolio, open up. It’s the Guard.’

‘Will the charm let them past?’ she whispered.

‘If they are honest men doing their duty, yes.’

Her hands shook as she opened the door. Four of them. They bundled past her into the room. The first was dark and simian, the second was a Gull. She recognised him. Benny Macko.

A red-haired officer dangled a warrant in front of her, then flipped his ID open. She didn’t have to look: it was Lieutenant Jack Gannerby. Larridy born and bred. Three of them grinned. The fourth stood silent with his arms folded. All in black, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. Feck. Psych Unit.

‘Who’s this?’ she asked.

‘Him? Oh, he’s just along to learn,’ said Gannerby. ‘Take no notice.’ He put his badge away. ‘Well, aren’t you a naughty little minx. Not co-operating with Guard enquiries? What’s all that about?’

‘Nah, Lefty, man,’ said Macko. ‘She wasn’t co-operating with Bog-whackers. She’ll cooperate with us, eh, won’t you Nan?’

‘We can come back in blond wigs and boots,’ suggested the monkeylike one, waggling his eyebrows. Eyebrow. ‘Interrogate you in the bathhouse, maybe?’

Time for the spoilt Galen princess act. Anabara stamped her foot. ‘Shut up, you fat ape!’ In the corner of her eye she could see Paran. Had he hidden the cutters? The three men snickered. The psych was silent.

‘Yes, Doogie! Shut UP!’ warbled Gannerby. ‘Bit of respect, for Dhalafan’s favourite private eye. Sorry to drag you out of bed, Ms Nolio. We need to take a quick look round. Just a formality.’

Looked like the Lieutenant had commandeered the squad brain cell this morning. She folded her arms and jutted out her lip. ‘Fine. But don’t you dare mess up my stuff.’

‘And we need to see the Fay’s ID,’ he said.

‘The Fairy’s name is Paran a’Menehaïn, Lieutenant. He’s standing right there. Ask him yourself.’

He barely glanced. Just clicked his fingers. Paran produced his Freeman Pass. The Lieutenant handed it to the psych, who flipped through, then pocketed it, face inscrutable behind his shades. Had the charm-sensitive lenses picked anything up?

Anabara snuck a look at the cutters. They were still there, in plain view! Quick, a distraction.

‘Hey! He can’t just take that!’ she squeaked. ‘How’s my associate meant to manage without ID? I’m going to complain to Uncle Hector about you!’

‘Calm down, Ms Nolio,’ said Gannerby.

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