Out in the hall, I watched the door to the interview room close as a uniform slipped in to baby-sit Jenny Kim. As we left, Bradley had tried to salvage the usual power dynamic by playing it tough and curt, but it wasn’t working and he knew it.
I fought a grin; it wasn’t going to help matters any, and although I didn’t think it was possible to antagonize Bradley any further, I was pretty sure that it would be a bad idea to find out I was wrong.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at, you stupid cow?”
“Officer,” I said.
“What?”
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at, you stupid cow, Officer.” I answered, trying to make sure every word was calm and measured. “Show some respect for the badge, Detective Bradley.”
Okay, not the best approach to avoid further antagonizing. But it was worth it to see his slick façade collapse beyond all hope of repair as he spluttered and turned purple.
“Respect the badge? This isn’t one of your magic playtime let’s pretend parties, Officer. This is a by-God real police investigation, and you just bought yourself a world of hurt for screwing it up! You come here, undercut me in front of a collar, and –:”
Calm and measured had outlived its usefulness, I decided.
“Not a collar, Detective, since you haven’t arrested her. And it’s a spurking good thing I pulled the plug on your alpha-male power trip before you got that far.”
“This is our investigation, you freakshow fake cop bi—”
“—Finish that word, and the lawsuit for wrongful arrest that Jenny Kim hits your ass with? That’ll be the least of your problems, donut jockey!”
Bradley drew himself up. He was either going to punch me, or arrest me. More likely both.
“Ken,” Detective Colby said.
Bradley and I both jumped. I’d forgotten Colby was there.
He unslouched from the wall and joined us.
“Maybe time to dial it down a notch.”
Bradley took a deep breath, then nodded.
Colby looked at me. “Of course, as per regulations, we welcome any legitimate input of our colleagues from the Borderland Guard.”
He wasn’t leaving me a big opening, but it was something.
“Look, Detective…” I said, “Detectives, that girl’s not a criminal. She’s the victim of a crime, and you know it.”
“I don’t…” Bradley started in high dudgeon, then caught Colby’s raised eyebrow and lowered the volume. “… I don’t know that. Magic? Fine. It exists. I get it. But do you have any idea how many perps we have to hand over to you people because they play the magic card? It’s gaming the system, it’s bull and I’m sick of it!”
I thought of the old saying about the thousand guilty men and the one innocent one, but I didn’t say it.
“And do you have any idea how many of those perps we hand right back to you, because their stories don’t hold up?” I asked him, “You think I don’t know when someone’s trying to play me?”
Bradley frowned, but he was thinking. Finally.
“I think,” said Colby, in a way that made me think even his voice slouched, “That all other things being equal, you might have a point.”
I raised my hands to thank the Goddess for common sense prevailing at last, just as Bradley threw up his arms in protest. It got a little complicated, and by the time we were sorted out Colby had raised his own hand in a “Shut up, I’m not done talking,” gesture. We both shut up.
“But all other things,” Colby went on, “Aren’t equal, are they? Jenny’s story fell apart the second we checked up on it. Does her word count for more than Glenn Jackson’s just because she’s crying magic?”
This, by the way, is why I hate working with regular cops. Anyway, it was obvious that I’d been wasting my time arguing with Bradley. It was Colby I needed to convince.
“Jenny is the only one reporting that she’s been the victim of a magical crime,” I said, “But that’s only because Glenn doesn’t know yet that he’s been the target of a?Fae identity theft.”
Bradley, luckily for his balls, didn’t quite roll his eyes, but he thought about it real hard. “Oh, come the hell on! You’re stacking magic on magic on magic. The girl has a bag full of leaves? Magic. She can’t explain it? Magic. The guy she says did it has an alibi? Magic! Why doesn’t any of it make any freaking sense? Because of magicky magical magic!”
“I’m afraid,” Colby said, “That I tend to agree. Occam’s razor, Officer. There’s nothing here that can’t be more easily explained by Jenny Kim and her boyfriend running a con than by magic. Nothing:”
“Not quite nothing,” said a voice from up the hall.
