‘We’ll get you a lawyer,’ Nelson began.
‘No point. There won’t be time.’
Nelson and Tombstone exchanged worried glances. ‘You’ve got something else planned? Bomb?’
‘I’m not a terrorist, either.’
‘No, you’re a freedom fighter.’ Nelson was uneasy now. ‘Let’s get the Homeland Security guys.’
4
Church only had to wait in the holding cell for ten minutes before the uniformed police officer watching him left quietly. The Homeland Security representative entered a moment later sporting a government-issue haircut and the kind of focused but frozen expression that always reminded Church of an Action Man doll.
‘Where is he?’ Church said.
The Action Man shifted uncomfortably.
‘He’s preparing another theatrical entrance, isn’t he?’
A fearful, fixed look grew in the Action Man’s eyes. Church had seen it before when the victim’s mind was in conflict with the controlling spider.
‘Oh, stop tormenting him.’
The Libertarian sauntered in. He was still wearing sunglasses to hide his red eyes, but this time his outfit was a smart charcoal suit and a white shirt. ‘I thought a formal approach would be appropriate in these circumstances, don’t you agree? Good for funerals, too.’
Church shivered involuntarily, bleak horror overcoming him as he looked the Libertarian up and down, seeing for the first time the familiar body language, the gait, the bone structure. ‘How did I get to be you?’ he said, sickened.
The Libertarian was mildly surprised. ‘Oh, a revelation. I never thought you’d see it myself. Convinced you’re the big, big hero — you could never believe you were working towards becoming something like me.’ He held Church’s stare for a long moment, enjoying what he saw there, then turned to the Homeland Security representative. ‘Get out, Oakes. You irritate me. Go and urinate in the coffee or something.’
Sweating, Oakes left.
The Libertarian sighed. ‘Alone again, me and my shadow. I have to say, you’ll have much more fun as me than you’ve ever had as yourself. All that pain from the woman who spurns your feelings for your arch-rival. And poor Niamh — all those years as a love-sick puppy and you not even noticing. She’s a wild woman in bed. You really missed out there.’
‘At least I know you can’t kill me.’
‘A little pain never hurt anyone, though. But business first. I have to ask — what has possessed you? Killing and eating people? Not that I don’t admire the artistry, and not that you won’t be doing it on a regular basis very shortly, but … somewhat out of character, shall we say?’
‘Very funny.’
‘What do you mean?’ The Libertarian looked honestly puzzled.
‘Slight overkill. The terrorist charge was enough to keep me locked up till you get what you want.’
‘You’re suggesting I had something to do with this?’
‘You didn’t?’
‘I saw the recording …’ The Libertarian paused, annoyed. ‘Now, who would be playing games at this late stage in the proceedings?’
Church registered an odd note in the Libertarian’s tone. ‘Proceedings?’
The Libertarian smiled.
‘You’ve been manipulating events.’
‘I learned a great deal from the Tuatha De Danann when I was you. This is all about alchemy. You need to be shaped by events so you can transmute into the gold that is me.’
The Libertarian was consciously echoing Hal’s words of guidance; both sides trying to see him transformed so he could be a force for either Light or Dark.
‘Of course, it’s not all about that. I have to ensure you don’t end up with the two Keys. That would be very bad. Thankfully, that terminal failure Veitch already has his hands on one of them.’
‘If only you knew where the other was,’ Church taunted.
‘Enjoy your stay. I hear the New York Police can be quite rough with terrorists. Oh, and cannibalistic serial killers.’
He waved flamboyantly and left, but there was an uneasiness behind the gesture that both pleased and troubled Church.
5
Church was being led out of his cell for another round of questioning when a loud crashing of glass was followed by a thunderous cacophony punctuated by shouts. His escort ran Church into the open-plan detectives’ office only to be brought up sharp by a whirlwind of black wings. The Morvren had burst through one window and were flocking around the room in a dense mass. Detectives pressed themselves against the floor to avoid beaks and talons.
In the birds’ movements, Church once again saw strange patterns take shape, but this time they remained enigmatic; yet some single intelligence was clearly directing them.
Amidst the chaos, Church glimpsed a figure flitting across the office, barely more than a shadow, and though it approximated a human shape there was something avian about it, too. It disappeared into the mass of feathers, and a moment later the Morvren funnelled out through the shattered window into the night.
‘What in the name of Alfred Hitchcock was that all about?’ Tombstone levered his huge frame upright.
‘I tell you, it’s the pollution,’ someone said. ‘Gets into the rain, birds drink it, this is what you get.’
Nelson brushed himself down, then coolly summoned Church over. ‘Homeland Security handed you back to us. Lucky you.’
‘Hey! What’s going on?’ Brow furrowed, Tombstone stared at his laptop. Nelson joined him, and for several minutes they pored over whatever was on-screen, casting occasional glances towards Church. Finally, they brought the computer over and ran the CCTV footage from the back of the fast-food restaurant. Church, Shavi and Tom were no longer there. Instead, a man with wild, black hair was hunched over the body. When he was done he loped away without showing his face.
‘Explain that,’ Nelson said.
‘I couldn’t explain what you had the first time. Maybe this is what really happened.’
‘Shit,’ Tombstone hissed. ‘This is fucked-up. The digital signature was right before and it still is now.’
Neither Nelson nor Tombstone was prepared to voice the questions running through their heads.
‘He’s still a terrorist, right?’ Tombstone said eventually.
‘Except Homeland Security don’t want him. Tried to pull the files, but all the intelligence community are tied up with whatever’s going on in China.’
‘What about that sword? We can hold him on hidden weapons-’
‘Bit big to hide,’ Church said. ‘It’s a sword.’
‘Don’t get smart.’ Nelson studied Church. ‘You’re involved in all this. The sword, the birds, the homicides — it’s all too much of a coincidence.’
‘There aren’t any coincidences,’ Church said.
Tombstone answered a ringing phone, and when he was done he said to Nelson, ‘Another one. In a car outside the Guggenheim. Throat torn out, only partially eaten, perp was probably disturbed. Guess that clears him.’ He nodded towards Church.
Nelson slipped on his jacket. ‘We’ll take him with us. He’s involved. I want him knee-deep in it, see how he reacts.’
Church protested, acutely aware of being dragged further and further away from the hunt for the Second Key. But at least out of the precinct he might have a chance to escape and double back to free Shavi and Tom. ‘Okay. I’ll do what I can to help.’
As Nelson and Tombstone led Church out of the room, he saw a detective with a sly face talking hastily to Oakes, the Homeland Security Action Man. A moment later Oakes had summoned Nelson over and was forcefully questioning him.
‘Oakes is coming with us,’ Nelson said when he returned.
‘He doesn’t trust us?’ Tombstone said. ‘I thought Homeland Security had walked away from this.’
‘Reckons he’s the only one who can keep an eye on sword-boy.’ He turned to Church. ‘He’s going to be on you like slime on a toad. Me, I reckon you were better off with us.’