the conference room. “I am determined to get you into your house in the suburbs, Mr. Jekyll. The Patterson case establishes a precedent, and their appalling treatment from the neighbors can only sway sympathy, though it’s going to be an uphill climb, considering your track record.”
“I am no stranger to appalling treatment, and much less accustomed to sympathy,” Jekyll said. “I read your amusing treatise against Senator Balfour, by the way. It must have hurt his delicate feelings.”
“He needed to be exposed. Momentum is building against him. I can feel it. We’ll have the whole Quarter on our side. As of an hour ago, I’ve filed seventeen challenges to various provisions in the Unnatural Acts Act, and I’m just getting warmed up. I plan to keep Senator Balfour’s staff busy twenty-four hours a day. He won’t be able to move forward on any aspect of the Act without facing opposition. We’ll get it repealed—and your case will help the cause.”
“Oh, good,” Jekyll said with dripping sarcasm. “I always wanted to be a bleeding-heart crusader for unnatural rights, since the unnaturals have been so kind to me.” His small hand curled itself into a fist like the legs of a spider sprayed with insecticide. “Why do you think I’m so desperate to move out of the Quarter?”
Sheyenne flitted through the office door with stamped copies of the documents she had filed. She appeared less unsettled now, more corporeal, but when she saw Harvey Jekyll in our conference room, she grew bothered all over again. I was definitely looking forward to taking her out to the Shakespeare play and getting her away from the tempest around the offices.
Jekyll drew a deep breath, calmed himself. “Life isn’t fair, either before or after death. My psychiatrist says I should accept the situation and move on. As the song says, I will survive.” He leaned forward, his narrow shoulders hunched, his bald scalp wrinkling with enough furrows to plant weeds in. “On the other hand, I won’t lose sleep to see Senator Balfour slapped. He deserves as many headaches as he’s caused me.”
“But Balfour is one of your investors in the ectoplasmic defibrillator business,” I said.
“Oh, he’s much more than that. Balfour used to be one of my Straight Edge buddies.” He looked at us, and I admit I wasn’t surprised by the revelation. “Now he won’t give me the time of day.”
Larry furrowed his snout. “Don’t you have a watch, boss?”
Jekyll ignored him. “The senator stopped taking my calls on the basis that it’s not his policy to speak with unnaturals. The nerve! He sent me a notice that my membership in Straight Edge has been revoked. We’ll see about that!”
“I thought Straight Edge had been dissolved and disbanded,” Robin said.
“It is, for the most part, but we still have a group medical plan, and there’s an annual get-together.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe Rupert would do this. He knows who I am . . . and I know damned well what he is.”
“If he’s such a bad partner, maybe you should stop making ectoplasmic defibrillators,” I said.
“Business is business. In fact, I’m paying all my outstanding bills because he just purchased two industrial-size defibrillators. He says he needs to protect himself against ghostly backlash from the Unnatural Acts Act. My defibrillators could disintegrate an entire army of angry ghosts if they came after him.”
“Ghosts aren’t the only ones out to get him,” Sheyenne said. “Every unnatural hates his guts.”
“This is just his opening salvo—any unnatural will do.”
“You were always good at killing large numbers of unnaturals all at once, Jekyll,” I said, remembering his previous genocidal plans.
He looked annoyed. “Yes, Rupert consulted with me. Normally, I’m willing to lend a hand to my friends, but I no longer count the senator among them.”
“We gotta go, boss,” Larry said. “Dentist appointment.”
Jekyll sighed. “I wish you’d set up these things on your own time.”
The werewolf picked at his fangs. “We can stop for coffee on the way.” That seemed to make Jekyll happy.
After they left the offices, another man entered, wearing a suit off the bargain rack and a thin black tie. I realized I had seen this guy-in-tie before at the Pattersons’ house. All business, the man handed Robin a folded packet. “Ms. Deyer, this is for you. I hope you enjoy it. You’re served.” He briskly walked away down the corridor.
Frowning, Robin unfolded and scanned the document. First her expression fell, then her eyes blazed, as she flipped the pages. “Balfour’s