His image was oddly shadowed, unrecognizable.
The miscreant kept his face out of camera range--impressive since there was a camera placed just in front of the door to catch the face of anyone breaking in.
The only thing the camera got a clear shot of was the gloves he wore--the old-fashioned kind: white with little buttons on the wrist.
There were odd glitches in the pictures, jumps where the camera turned off because there was no movement for it to follow.
By the timers, it took him forty-five minutes to paint the bones on my door-- of which the cameras caught about ten minutes.
Part of the missing time covered how the painter got there and how he left.
I didn't think he knew the cameras were there, and he still avoided them.
Some supernatural creatures just don't film well: by tradition, vampires are among them.
The height was right for Wulfe, who would be my first choice in any vampire magicking.
Since Wulfe was the vampire who knew for certain that I'd killed Andre, he was also my top suspect for the informer who had told Marsilia about my crimes.
The camera caught movement again.
"Stop it," Tony said.
Two figures, still indistinct, froze on the edge of the lights of my parking lot, and the little numbers on the lower right of the screen read 2:08 A.M.
Time had jumped almost a half hour from when the bone painter had last been there.
"What was that all about?" he asked.
"The person at your door?" "I don't know," I told him.
I almost said that his guess was as good as mine, but it wasn't.
"Maybe someone was trying to break in, but didn't make it." Impossible to tell what he'd been doing from the camera shot.
"It doesn't matter, though, because he obviously wasn't the one who graffitied all over." Tony stared at me.
Cops were almost as good as werewolves at sensing lies.
He turned abruptly and opened the door to examine it.
Like Zee, he traced the crossed bones with a light finger.
"Who have you been ticking off besides Bright Future? This looks almost like something the old Mob might do--classy, but designed to frighten the hell out of whoever received it." I sighed, shrugged.
"No one wanted me to get Zee out of the murder rap.
But it's not the kind of thing a fae would do--too visible.
And a werewolf who was ticked off that badly would just attack.
I've got some people who'll look into it for me better than the police can." Frowning, Tony made an irritated noise.
"Is this another one of your `It's too dangerous for you mere human cops?'" I rubbed my arms, but I wasn't cold, just chilled.
I was under no illusions.
Marsilia could have just killed me, but she was playing.