88. Mortician's cat

Author's note.

Sorry for the delay. I scheduled the chapter for the wrong day by accident, should have been released yesterday.

***

I shook off the surprise and asked, “Do you know the preacher’s son?”

I looked her in the eyes.

“I–I don’t, I mean I–” She started stammering.

“You have to, you should be similar—”

“We don’t have the time for this. You can have a shot at Protestants some other time,” snapped Cecil as he pulled another ten bucks from his pocket and showed them to the girl. “So, the party. Come on, you had to see something.”

I turned to him in disbelief. Did this moron think I was asking because I wanted to find something on my religious rival?

There was no point in arguing. I would have to have a private conversation with the girl and her friends later anyway. So for now, I gave up on the questions.

Finally, after increasing the amount to thirty dollars, the girl broke down. She told us nothing new. There were parties with some music, sometimes even a DJ, and alcohol. When asked about drugs, she hesitated but finally only said that she didn’t take any, though she knew that if you needed some, you could always buy from some guy named Grease.

Interestingly, I saw Cecil deflate at those words, and Rey stare at him in clear accusation.

I put those to the back of my mind as the mother made her way in with a tray of tea.

We all thanked her and continued the fake anti-drug speech for a bit longer.

“Thank you, it really means a lot,” the mother said, looking at Rey once he finished. “Maybe if we had more policemen like you, the children wouldn’t end up as drug dealers.”

“I’m trying my best,” said Rey.

“And you, young lady, you take his words to heart.”

“I will,” the girl answered flatly.

I could see her muscles flex to stop the teenage eye roll.

“Well, Miss, if there’s nothing more we can do for you, then we will take our leave,” said Cecil.

“Actually, there is!” the woman exclaimed in response.

I could see the customer-service smile on Cecil's face tighten slightly.

“There will be a parents’ conference tomorrow about the overdoses and drug problem among the youth. We would love for Mr. Raymond to speak there.”

I had to stop a smile from escaping me as I saw the man freeze.

“Oh, could we record the speech?” Cecil asked.

“Of course!”

“Won’t there be any problems with other parents about such a sudden schedule change?” Rey asked with barely hidden hope in his voice.

“I’ll have you know I’m part of the parents’ council,” the woman proclaimed with clear pride. “I can give you an official invitation to speak and to record.”

“Great,” Rey answered through gritted teeth.

“Can’t wait. I’ll have to call the other members.”

Saying that, the woman pulled out a cellphone, not paying us any attention. We took that as our cue to leave.

Outside, I expected Rey to get pissed at Cecil, but instead, he looked at me. “Why the interest in the preacher’s son?” he asked.

“Why the interest in my interest?”

“Because it’s weird. What, you think it’s Victor’s Protestant demon after all?”

“See, dude? Told you,” Victor chimed in.

I rolled my eyes. “No. I just have a hunch. You work this job for some time, you get those. I thought a policeman would understand.”

“Sure, Mr. ‘Exorcist.’ So what does your hunch tell you?” Rey continued.

I could see that the recording equipment was out.

I shrugged. “Nothing. Simply that there is more to the preacher.”

The man looked at me for a while but finally gave up the questioning, to a sigh of disappointment from Cecil, who had clearly been excited for some good drama.

After some more talking, we finally went our separate ways.

Cecil tried to get me to give a comment to the camera about possible demons and what I inferred from the interviews, to talk about the sins of the community, and to name-drop some spirits. Thankfully, I managed to worm my way out with the excuse of not having enough info, finally promising him the comment after the parents’ conference.

Now, after finally separating from them, I went to see the mortician. I needed to know about the state of the bodies. I assumed they had mutations, at least partial ones, similar to the boar, which caused the nightmares in the doctor. Although the problem was that the police bought the overdose excuse if they were the ones transporting the bodies.

Were those different mutations?

And if they were like the case of the boar, then why weren’t the two kids walking abominations?

I went to the mortician’s office deep in thought. Since it was the county morgue, the place was easy to find after a bit of Googling. It was relatively late, around 7 p.m., but doctors working later wasn’t anything new. Hopefully, there would be someone there.

But after arriving at the place, I was met with closed doors. And not closed “for the night,” but “until further notice.” The note on the door said that for now, the morgue was not taking any new bodies and that any inquiries were to be made through the police office. Also, any new bodies were to be redirected to the morgue of the neighboring county.

I furrowed my brow.

What was that about?

Did the man just quit all of a sudden because he couldn’t take it? Possible. I called Q’Shar and asked for the home address of the doctor, or rather the cat that lived with him, and after some waiting, I got it. It was relatively close to the morgue.

I arrived at a small apartment complex in one of the older brick buildings near the city center.

Getting in wasn’t a problem, as there was only a simple gate to get through, but after arriving at the door and knocking, there was no answer.

I clicked my tongue. Why wasn’t anything going according to plan in this case?

I put my ear against the door and listened in, but there was only more silence.

I finally decided to simply go knocking on the neighbors’ doors and ask about the man. The first person to open was a middle-aged woman. The moment she saw me, she instinctively closed the door slightly, only speaking through a small crack.

“Hello. Sorry to bother you at such a late hour, but I needed to speak with the doctor. Do you know when he usually comes back home?” I asked, trying to look as unthreatening as possible.

“No.” That was the short answer, followed by a closed door.

I sighed and tried another, pushing down my aura as much as possible.

I got something on the third try. It was an older man with a warm demeanor.

“Yes?” he asked, looking at me.

“Hello, I have an important case for the doctor, but I can’t find him anywhere. Do you maybe know when he usually comes back?”

I saw the man’s face change into worry and sadness as he looked at me. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You weren’t informed?”

“About what?”

“The doctor was suspended for some investigation.”

“Noooo!” I exclaimed in fake surprise. “Impossible, he was such a good man.”

“Yeah. But,” the man lowered his voice. “I heard he cremated some poor kids without the family’s consent. Such an unpleasant story.”

“Oh, that’s horrible. Do you know how I can contact him?”

“No, sonny. I’m so sorry.”

“Right,” I started to think about some other plan. “Sad to hear. Out of curiosity, do you know what happened to his cat? I could take care of it if it’s a problem,” I awkwardly tried a shot in the dark.

“Oh, no need, I think his neighbor is taking care of it. I saw it on the roof just yesterday, so you don't need to worry.”

“Oh, that’s great! Well, thank you for your help,” I said as the man closed his door.

After this, I went around the building and started to look into the windows of the man’s neighbors, thankful that the apartment was on the first floor.

I finally found the feline. It was sitting on a pillow in the living room of one of the apartments, looking half-asleep.

I cast a quick Silent Message.

I saw the creature’s eyes open in surprise and look at me.

I stepped back and waited. Finally, after some time, the cat showed himself in one of the windows, using his paws to open it. I thought it would come to me, but instead the animal just sat in the window, making me look up like I was having a conversation with some high king.

It was a gray, old, ordinary cat with nothing particularly notable about it, aside from a small bite to the ear.

“Shouldn’t you come down? Your owner will hear us.” I half-whispered.

“She’s practically deaf,” he commented, then turned and shouted, “Hey! I’m a talking cat conversing with a wizard!”

I winced and looked around, but no one else seemed to hear him.

“See?” the animal purred. “Deaf as a rock.”

I rolled my eyes at his antics.

“So? Why are you bothering me?” the animal asked lazily.

“I need some data on the bodies that got the mortician so upset, and I can’t find the doctor.”

The cat just shrugged. “Yeah, he went to some vacation spot, I think.”

I waited for some more info, but the cat just looked at me.

“Ooookay. And can you tell me about the bodies?”

“Nope, I’m retired.”

“Oh, come on. What will it cost?” I sighed.

“Nothing. I simply don’t want to get involved. The only reason you even got any info is that the moment I sensed those bodies, I knew there would be a mess to deal with.”

“Okay. So if I’m to deal with the mess faster, then the info would speed things up.”

I saw the cat’s tail dance behind him as he finally answered. “The doctor wrote a proper report for the police before the whole overdose excuse. It should be on his work PC in the office. The password is–” The cat seemed to hesitate before murmuring something. “M..dl..”

I came a bit closer. “What was that?”

The cat sighed loudly. “The password is ‘MrCuddles123.’”

My face slowly stretched into a smile. “And who would Mr. Cuddles be, huh?”

“Fuck off. Don’t bother me again,” the cat spat before slamming the window shut.

I, now in a better mood, decided to go back to the office for some good old break-in.

I waited for a later hour of the night before committing the crime. I put on the root mask and changed into my robe, just in case of cameras or any company.

I then checked out the place more thoroughly. It was an older but well-maintained brick building in what seemed to be a more industrial part of town, if you could call the few warehouses and smaller industrial buildings that.

The doors on which the note still hung were quite thick, clearly anti-break-in. I wasn’t a professional burglar, so I couldn’t tell if there was an alarm, but I was hoping that the mortician’s office wouldn’t have one.

I went around the place looking at the windows. To my surprise, they had bars in them, probably in place of the alarm. But that was only true for the first floor. I stepped back slightly from the building and could see that the upper windows were standard.

Using my new dexterous body, I managed to climb to the window after checking that no one was around. It was a normal, relatively modern window. I used Force Control to move the handle, and it opened without any issue. I waited a bit for any alarm, but nothing happened. Hopefully, it wasn’t the silent type.

After walking in, I closed the windows back up so that no concerned passerby noticed anything.

I looked around. This floor seemed to have been converted into storage, as I could see shapes of some cabinets and old dusty machines in the moonlight.

I almost cast Light at lower intensity, but then remembered that I didn’t have to and flexed my new eye muscles. I could feel my iris snap apart, and the room brightened into many shades of gray.

“Neat,” I said to myself, and went downstairs to look for the work office.

The first floor appeared to be half a reception area and half a typical doctor’s room. I started wondering if this doubled as a doctor’s office. It would make sense. I wasn’t sure they had enough bodies to keep the man busy.

There was a computer here in the office-looking room, but I doubted it was the one for the mortician’s work. I continued walking through the place. There were two more rooms with some medical machines and, finally, a sizable industrial elevator at the end of the corridor.

I smiled. There were no elevator doors on the second floor. I assumed this went to the morgue. I took the stairs next to the elevator and arrived in the basement. The entire floor was made from white tiles. There were only two sizable rooms. One on the left that contained a workspace to prepare or examine bodies, and the morgue with a massive freezer to the right.

I sharpened my senses and flared my aura in case another abomination was hiding here.

But nothing.

Silence.

I listened and sensed for a few minutes, but after no change, I finally made my way to the preparation room. There was another PC here. I turned it on and entered the password. I got the capital letters on the second try.

I started to look through the documentation. The good news was that the documentation was well-maintained and organized. The bad news was that the only file for the day of the overdoses was the one with the false report.

I clicked my tongue and stretched for a second. Did he delete the report? Or… I checked the trash.

And sure enough.

There were a few files there, one of them matching the date of the overdoses. Good thing the doctor wasn’t an IT professional. I opened the report and printed it out to read in peace, as it seemed quite lengthy.

After putting the printed report in my pocket, I was about to go back when I heard something.

A movement.

The floor over my head squeaked, and footsteps could be heard.

I moved my mana and readied for a fight as I listened in.

Someone else was in the building.