The story of the FALLEN

19.Murder in Hyde Park

“I have to get over to Hyde Park. There was a murder.” Garry informs them a few minutes later.

“I’m sorry I said anything.” Zack shakes his head. Apparently it can be very bad. Is it another demon attack, he wonders. “I can drive you.”

“You can’t come. They won’t let you through the barricade.” Garry tells him.

“You need protection in case it’s demon related.” Nakir says. “I’ll come. I can hide in the shadows.”

“Why do you have to go? Is it even your area? Aren’t you on leave?” Tammy inquires.

“It’s not my area.” Garry says. He shakes his head, like he’s thinking what to tell them. “The body has the same marks as Father Angus. That’s why my boss called. He thinks it’s related.”

“Damn it!” Layla exclaims. “We have to find this demon before people start dropping like flies. Who knows how many more are dead? The demon might learn to hide bodies.”

“Are they capable of learning?” Garry wonders.

“Sure they are. Demons might be simple creatures, but nobody ever said they are not intelligent. If one learns to fly after killing all those pigeons, we can assume it’s capable of learning anything.” Zack answers. “I don’t like it, but…”

Nakir lets Garry drive the Mercedes to the Park. He prefers bikes, but that would be a bad idea tonight. Garry is not a bike person, for one. And the noise would draw attention to them. Nakir needs to concentrate on this one. It’s been ages since he walked the shadows last. It’s a completely different realm and he needs to be careful not to fall in too deep or he might find himself back home. Not that he doesn’t miss his home, but it’s not the same without Munkir. Besides, he can’t just leave Zack and the girls. He is loyal to his friends, and they are all he’s got.

“Don’t look for me. I won’t leave you, but I can’t step into the light of those reflectors. Everyone can see me if I do.” Nakir tells Garry. “I will be close by to keep you safe. I can also try to find out if this was a demon or something else. I hope they didn’t trample all over the scene and mess up the scents.”

“We usually try to minimise the tracks on any crime scene.” Garry whispers. “I don’t know how you can get close enough to see anything. They lit up the park as if it’s daylight.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Nakir winks at the guy. He really likes the detective. He steps away from the guy and into the shadows. He lets his body fade out, but he stays on this plane consciously. He is not looking into the abyss of darkness. He will not answer the call of his home. He is here to play a shadow detective.

Nakir follows Garry through the shadows. The line of police officers and other people is staggering. He never saw a live crime scene before. Who would have thought they need so many people around. All carrying badges and jackets with different scripts on the backs. He wonders who died that this murder got so much attention? Or is it the location? He creeps closer to the main group of people. He can see the body on the ground and all the blood mysteriously gone. There is nothing on the grass, almost nothing on the victim’s clothes. It looks like the demon was at it again.

Can he scent something from the shadow plane or was his plan flawed? He can see and hear everything, but his other senses are dulled here. He can’t afford to just appear out of nothing. There are too many people around. He will gather the information he can get by listening and observing. Humans can be intuitive without even knowing. All chatter about some oily substance in the wounds and the unusual shape of them. Serrated, but flat. It goes with the Manticus demon.

The body gets loaded onto a gurney and shipped off to the morgue. Damn it! How can he get a whiff of anything now? Can the people still milling around the crime scene refrain from stepping onto the surface where the body used to be? Can he get anything from the grass there? Why are they still here? What else can they find? Just standing around wasting time seems to be a thing humans do a lot. This is why he pays taxes? For a bunch of police personnel to just hang around in a park?

Nakir risks a little magic trick. He sends a cold wind towards the people. He makes sure the wind doesn’t reach the grass. He needs it undisturbed. But the people can go now. They have no use here anymore. They have combed the surrounding area for any signs of a weapon and found nothing. If this was done by a demon, the weapon is firmly attached to the demon’s appendix. They don’t just lose hands on a whim.

He doesn’t sense any malevolent presence here, or any demon residue. But he needs to get closer to the spot. He sends another gust of cold wind at the police officers. He feels bad for Garry, but what else can he do if those silly humans can’t take a hint. Maybe a chill to the bones will get them moving? He has to remind himself to stop playing with the chill from his home dimension; he might accidentally bring a demon or two along for the ride. They already have one on the loose. The ones from his own home are bad. Those better stay locked away. He must be careful of his actions, it’s been too long. His special kind of dark magic is rusty, but there really was no good reason to practise this.

He can see the humans leave in groups. Garry stays behind to take a few pictures for his own file. Pictures of what? Nakir doesn’t see anything interesting or unusual about the trampled grass. He pushes out his senses now that most of the distractions are gone. Besides Garry, there is no human in sight, so he steps out of the shadows. The smell of trampled grass is pungent, but he can pick up human, dog, and demon scent as well.

“It was a demon.” Nakir tells Garry. “I can’t exactly say if it’s our Manticus demon, the signature scent of demons is pretty much the same.”

“Do you know where it went? Or should that be him? Do demons have a gender?” Garry inquires.

“Good questions. The demon could be a he or a she. There is not much of a difference though, both are vicious.” Nakir chuckles. He points North: “It went that way:”

“Let’s go.” Garry nods. “You can follow the scent? Or tracks that I can’t see? How does this work? I have this stupid image of a German shepherd looking for tracks on my mind.”

“Hilarious.” Nakir chuckles. “I’m not a dog. I can’t see anything on the ground. The smell is faint, but it’s still there. The demon hasn’t shifted.”

“If it helps in any way: the body still has all or most of the blood.” Garry tells him. “The wounds are the same as with Father Angus.”

“It helps.” Nakir nods. He has a weird feeling that something is terribly wrong. He can sense something that is not supposed to be on the human plane. It feels like home. It’s not residue from his shadow walking, it’s more. It’s dark and powerful. It’s menacing, it’s frightening…He lets his eyes go black and he calls on his sword. The world changes subtly around him. He can see more in this half angel form. He doesn’t need to worry about Garry. The guy has seen him in his full glory.

Nakir spins around suddenly. He knows he is too fast for Garry, but he has to hurry. Speed is the only thing that can save Garry. Humans can’t be in the Hell realm. Not while alive, anyway. He wraps his wings around them and rushes them backwards. He lets his senses guide him and lands them in a heap on the closest rooftop that he could find.

“Hey! What was that all about? What was that red glow?” Garry mumbles into his chest. Maybe he should let the guy go? Nakir thinks that the detective doesn’t play on both teams. As much as he wouldn’t mind it, he is almost certain that Garry would. So he opens his wings up to see Garry slightly dishevelled, but unhurt.

“You’re welcome. That red glow was a Hell realm. Someone opened a portal and we walked right in.” Nakir explains. “It was weird that I couldn’t detect the portal, but I knew there was something off about the park.”

“Who can open a portal?” Garry inquires. He rolled off of Nakir and is now standing a few metres away.

“Witches, warlocks, archdemons, a few creatures that call Hell their home…” Nakir answers. “The list is not long, but it is concerning. If that demon we are searching for is under orders from one of the powerful beings from Hell, and that being is opening portals for the demon, we are screwed.”

“We were in Hell?” Garry blanches paper white.

“Yes. For a few seconds. You didn’t die, that’s the important thing.” Nakir nods.

“Thank you. I don’t want to die just yet. I have plans for my life.” Garry tells him. He must be rattled, Nakir thinks. The pale complexion is a sign.

“It’s fine. I like you. It’s unusual, but I do.” Nakir chuckles. “Let’s get back to the penthouse. The others need to hear about this.”

“Where are we, anyway?” Garry looks over the edge of the roof to get a bearing of their location. They are still in the park, sort of. “Why are we on the roof of the Rangers Lodge?”

“Because of my wings. I had to get you out of Hell fast. The only way I could think of was to fly you out. In the Human realm, we tend to be a bit more secretive. A rooftop is a safe place. We could have been seen down in the park, it’s crawling with police officers tonight.” Nakir explains. “Since this building is closed for the night, I will fly you down. I’ll meet you back at the car.”

Nakir ghosts through the shadows and beats Garry back to the Mercedez. He is leaning on the side of the car and thinking about the Hell realm they have been to. It was familiar, but was it home? Or was that another illusion? He didn’t spend nearly enough time there to figure out what part of Hell it was in the first place. Or who’s Hell it was. They are up against a powerful being, that is certain. It would take all four of them to open a portal. In theory. They never attempted it, so it is possible it might not work at all. But the question he really needs to ask is who was the victim? What is the connection to Father Angus? He is a big fan of Agatha Christie, so he wonders what Poirot would have done in his place?