wouldn’t,” I said. I went to her and put a hand on her arm. “I wouldn’t, Karrin. You know that.”
She looked up at me, her expression impossible to read. “You put on a really good act, Harry. It would have fooled a lot of people. It looked . . .”
“Natural on me,” I said. “Yeah.”
She touched my hand briefly with hers. “So, I guess we got something?”
I shook off dark thoughts and nodded. “We’ve got a name.”
BURT DECKER RAN what was arguably the sleaziest of the half-dozen establishments that catered to the magical crowd in Chicago. Left Hand Goods prided itself on providing props and ingredients to the black magic crowd.
Oh, that wasn’t so sinister as it sounded. Most of the trendy, self-appointed Death Eater wannabes in Chicago—or any other city, for that matter—didn’t have enough talent to strike two rocks together and make sparks, much less hurt anybody. The really dangerous black wizards don’t shop at places like Left Hand Goods. You could get everything you needed for most black magic at the freaking grocery store.
But, all the same, plenty of losers with bad intentions thought Left Hand Goods had everything you needed to create your own evil empire—and Burt Decker was happy to make them pay for their illusions.
Me and Murphy stepped in, between the display of socially maladjusted fungi on our right, a tank of newts (PLUCK YOUR OWN *#%$ING EYES, the sign said) on the left, and stepped around the big shelf of quasi-legal drug paraphernalia in front of us.
Decker was a shriveled little toad of a man. He wasn’t overweight, but his skin looked too loose from a plump youth combined with a lifetime of too many naps in tanning beds. He was immaculately groomed, and his hair was a gorgeous black streaked with a dignified silver that was like a Rolls hood ornament on a VW Rabbit. He had beady black eyes with nothing warm behind them, and when he saw me, he licked his lips nervously.
“Hiya, Burt,” I said.
There were a few shoppers, none of whom looked terribly appealing. Murphy held up her badge so everyone could see it and said, “We have some questions.”
She might as well have shouted, “Fire!” The store emptied.
Murphy swaggered past a rack of discount porn DVDs, her coat open just enough to reveal the shoulder holster she wore. She picked one up, gave it a look, and tossed it on the floor. “Christ, I hate scum vendors like this.”
“Hey!” Burt said. “You break it, you bought it.”
“Yeah, right,” Murphy said.
I showed him my teeth as I walked up and leaned both my arms on the counter he stood behind. It crowded into his personal space. His cologne was thick enough to stop bullets.
“Burt,” I said, “make this simple, okay? Tell me everything you know about Caine.”
Decker’s eyes went flat, and his entire body became perfectly still. It was reptilian. “Caine?”
I smiled wider. “Big guy, shaggy hair, kind of a slob, with piss running down his leg. He made a deal with a woman for some bloodstone, and you helped.”
Murphy had paused at a display of what appeared to be small, smoky quartz geodes. The crystals were nearly black, with purple veins running through them, and they were priced a couple of hundred dollars too high.
“I don’t talk about my customers,” Decker said. “It isn’t good for business.”
I glanced at Murphy. “Burt. We know you’re connected.”
She stared at me for a second, and sighed. Then she knocked a geode off the shelf. It shattered on the floor.
Decker winced and started to protest, but the words died on his lips.
“You know what isn’t good for business, Decker?” I asked. “Having a big guy in a grey cloak hang out in your little Bad Juju Mart. Your customers start thinking that the Council is paying attention, how much business do you think you’ll get?”
Decker stared at me with toad eyes, nothing on his face.
“Oops,” Murphy said, and knocked another geode to the floor.
“People are in the hospital, Burt,” I said. “Mac’s one of them—and he was beaten on ground held neutral by the Unseelie Accords.”
Burt bared his teeth. It was a gesture of surprise.
“Yeah,” I said. I drew my blasting rod out of my coat and slipped enough of my will into it to make the runes and sigils carved along its length glitter with faint orange light. The smell of wood smoke curled up from it. “You don’t want the heat this is gonna bring down, Burt.”