Cerulean Sins

I opened one last file and showed him the man they'd crucified against the wall. "Why did you need Van Anders to do this? Not his kind of kill."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

He was going to deny it, fine. Even if we could have pi

"You know nothing." He sounded very sure of that.

"You were ordered to kill him because he ran. Ran away from people like you, and people like Van Anders."

He looked at me then, and he was worried. He was wondering how much I knew. Not much. But maybe it was enough. "Whose idea was it to crucify him?"

"Van Anders's." He looked like he'd swallowed something sour. Then he gave a small smile. "It won't matter, Ms. Blake, I'll never see trial."

"Maybe not, but I always like to know where the blame goes."

He nodded, then said, "Van Anders was so angry when we shot him first. He said what good is a crucifixion if the person isn't struggling." He looked at me with haunted eyes. "I should have known then what he meant to do."

"Whose idea were the runes?" I asked.

He shook his head. "You've gotten the last startled confession you shall get from me."

"There's still one thing I don't understand." Actually, there were lots of things I didn't understand, but it's never good to appear confused in front of the bad guys.

"I will not incriminate myself, Ms. Blake."

"If you knew what Van Anders was capable of, then why bring him along? Why make him part of the team, at all?"

"He is a werewolf, as you have learned from what he does to his victims. There were those who believed you were a shape-shifter, as well. We wanted someone that could manage you without risk of infection, if you fought us."

"You were pla

"As a last resort," he said.

"But because Balfour and Canducci didn't like my zombie, the plan is off?"

"Those names will do for them, but yes. We had reports that you could raise zombies that thought they were still alive and could pass as human. My employers were very disappointed when they saw the tape."

I owed Maria

I tried some more questions, but Leopold Heinrick had given out all the information he was going to give. He finally asked for a lawyer, and the interview was over.

I stepped out into the main area, and it was in chaos. People yelling, ru

O'Brien answered for him. "The Mobile Reserve Squad that went out to pick up Van Anders—he cut them up. At least one dead, maybe more."

"Shit," I said.

She had her jacket on and was digging her purse out of a drawer.

"Where's Zerbrowski?"

"He's gone already."

"Can I catch a ride?"

She looked at me. "Where to? I'm going to the hospital."

"I think I need to be at the crime scene."

"I'll take you," Webster said.

O'Brien gave him a look.

"I'll be at the hospital later. I promise."

O'Brien shook her head and ran for the door. Everyone was leaving. Some would go to the hospital. Some would go to the crime scene and see if they could help there. Some would go sit with the families of the downed officers. But everyone would go. If you really wanted to commit a crime in any city, wait until there's an officer-down call, everyone drops everything.

I'd go to the scene of the crime. I'd try to help figure out what went wrong. Because something had gone very wrong if Van Anders had taken out an entire squad from the Mobile Reserve. They're trained to handle terrorists, hostage situations, drugs, gangs, biochemical hazards; pick your nastiness, and Mobile Reserve can handle it. Yes, something had gone terribly wrong. The question was, what?