'Yeah, I know. I want to help you with this but I've been told explicitly that this isn't my area. They've got someone else in mind. The moment Tim called for help -'
'What? Tim called who?' He was only supposed to call Doug. I guess he's just used to thinking for me.
'Me, but once he did, I had to alert my bosses. Major incidents are flagged, and someone trying to kill the current RM is a major incident, now.' Alex sighed. 'I know you like to sort out your disputes inhouse. But after Morrigan… Well, you know, the rules have changed.'
'So who are they sending in?'
'A new group, federal not state. Still police, though. I hadn't heard about them until about an hour before I came over here.' Alex scowls. 'They're called Closers. Seem to know an awful lot about you.'
So, another government department. I'll get Tim to do some digging.
There's always someone poking around here. Unofficially, of course, because the work we do at Mortmax can't be official. Unofficially we could tell them to piss off, but unofficially they could cause a lot of trouble for us.
'I hate this,' I say. 'Bloody governments.'
'They're not too fond of Mortmax, either. Look, the paint hasn't even dried on this department yet. None of them will have much experience in dealing with the things that are dumped on their desks.'
'So why aren't people like you involved?'
'Why do you think?'
'You're regarded as compromised? Guilt by association.' I frown. 'Don't they trust you at work anymore, Alex?'
Alex scowls. 'If you were doing your -'
'What? If we were doing our jobs properly? Is that what you're saying?' I look at my ruined office, the blood, the paper blown everywhere. He kind of has a point. 'I'm not here to bend over for every government department.'
Alex grins. 'Not every department, mate. Just one from now on.' His face grows more serious. 'Steven, be careful. People aren't over the moon with what's happening here. I've been hearing things.'
'You can't be serious. Morrigan was responsible for all of it.' I fix him as severe a stare as I can manage. 'What sort of things?'
'Nothing specific. Just that no one was happy to have a Regional Apocalypse at their doorstep. They're blaming you.'
'I had nothing to do with it.' I straighten in my throne, slam my foot down on the floor and remember why I'm sitting here in the first place. Fuck, that hurts.
'Doesn't matter, Mortmax did, and you're running the Australian branch. You're responsible as far as people are concerned. And they don't think you're doing such a great job.'
'If they want to have a go at running death, let them.' My bluster is just that, though, and Alex knows it.
'Perhaps you shouldn't be so bloody glib, mate.'
'Yeah, well, I've got eight stitches in my foot, and a bit of my ear is missing. Inappropriate glibness is all I have.' We glare at each other.
There's a knock on the door.
A man peers through at Alex and me. An Akubra hat obscures his features. Most people can't pull that look off, but he manages it, somehow. It's the broad shoulders, the skin just on the flesh side of leather. He doffs the wide-brimmed hat, scratches his head. The hair beneath is clipped to within a breath of shaved; a band of sweat rings it. Dark eyes peer at me through thickish metal-rimmed glasses. I can't tell what he's thinking, but his heart beats slow and steady.
'Can I join the party?' he asks, and smiles warmly.
Alex glances at me, gives me a we'll-talk-later kind of face.
'Yeah, absolutely,' I say. 'There's room for everyone. Once I know just who they are.'
'Of course, of course. I thought you knew I was coming. Detective Magritte Solstice,' he says. 'I'll be running this investigation.' He shakes my hand. It's one of those firm but slightly threatening grips that suggests a lot more strength could be applied – if needed.
'Can't say I'm pleased to meet you.'
Solstice's laugh is warm and deep. 'No one ever is under these situations.' He looks over at Alex. 'That's all for now, Sergeant.'
'Yes, Sergeant,' I say. 'It's time for the grown-ups to talk.'
Alex nods, gives me a little (and very ironic) salute and gets out of there.
Solstice shuts the door behind him. The smile slips a little. 'Now, to get the shit out of the way before it stinks up the room, if you have any problems you call me. I know he's your friend, but this isn't Alex's specialty.' Solstice hands me a card with his name and number on it, and a symbol of three dots making an equilateral triangle. It reminds me of the brace symbol we use to block Stirrers. 'My group runs these investigations.'
'You're the Closers?'
Solstice blinks at that. I'm happy to wrong-foot him a little. 'Yeah, it's our job to close doors that shouldn't have been opened in the first place.'
'A bit poetic, isn't it?'
Solstice grimaces. 'I didn't come up with the name. Our job is to work with organisations like yours, off the public record, of course.'
'Well, off the record, what do you really think you're doing?'
'Fixing your fuck-ups.'
'That's good to know,' I say. 'Puts everything into context.'
'All right. So where did it happen? Scene of the crime and all that.'
'You're looking at it,' I say, waving at the room. Solstice lifts an eyebrow.
'I'm sorry, but the window's self-healing. The body's missing, too. It went back to wherever it came from. It was a professional hit, but it didn't work out too well for the professionals.'
'At least no one was hurt.'
'Much,' I say.
He looks at me.
'No one was hurt much,' I say.
'What's wrong with you?' Solstice asks. 'You look fine to me.'
'Yeah, now I do.'
'Stop your complaining.'
I frown at him.
'Oh, sorry. Stop your complaining, sir.' Solstice walks around my desk and stares at 'The Triumph of Death'. It was Mr D's particular obsession: death at war with life, a vast wave of skeletons breaking over the world. Mr D said he found it soothing. I don't know about that, but it is something. 'Isn't this a bit much?'
'Look, I didn't buy it.' (Actually, I don't think Mr D bought it, either.) 'But you have to admit it's funny in this context.'
Solstice peers at all the mayhem on the panel. 'If you say so.' He walks to the window and pushes his face against the glass. 'So the body fell…? Where am I looking?'
'That's Hell,' I say, pouring myself a glass of rum. 'You're looking into Hell.'
Solstice blinks. 'Remarkable. It's not exactly what I was expecting.'
'It never is.' I offer him a drink.
He shakes his head. 'On duty, and all that.' He goes back to peering out the window.
He jabs a thumb down. 'So the body struck the ground and it disappeared?'
'Yeah, someone cut the rope a few moments after I'd knocked him out.'
Solstice looks at me. 'You knocked him out?'
'I got lucky.'
'Very lucky.' He scrawls something in his notebook. 'So someone cut the rope. Are you sure you weren't that someone?'
'Very sure. I wanted to know what he was doing. Why he was there, and how.'
