Chapter 21
Conrí
She placed the USB memory stick in my hand.
“That is the footage you requested. I don’t know how you’ll find anything when the health and safety officers couldn’t,” Nora said, with the scepticism she reserved for things she considered beneath her efficiency.
“The nightmare is almost over. But the culprit remains at large and I don’t accept that,” I said.
“Okay, Poirot.” She turned to leave. “Oh—your brother called again.”
I’d take Poirot as a compliment. Renowned detective. Fictional, but still. I took what I could get.
“Wonderful.”
I’d get back to Cuán once I sorted out the Nika dilemma.
The floor carpets had been steam cleaned three times. The toilets scrubbed and bleached from top to bottom. And yet—when I walked the corridor I could still catch it. Faint. Persistent. The indignity of it clinging to the walls.
What sort of person poisoned an entire floor of workers?
I was going to find out.
The staff canteen had been ruled out early—shut down, examined, cleared.
The kitchen on her floor had come up clean too.
Which left something brought in from outside.
Something no one had thought to question because people brought things in all the time.
Birthdays. Retirements. The general low-level performance of workplace camaraderie.
I shoved the USB into the laptop port with more force than necessary.
The footage loaded. I worked through it chronologically. The cleaners, in and out before six. Marcus at the security desk. The slow trickle of early arrivals after eight.
But then—
There she was.
The timestamp read 6:47.
In her hand was a large rectangular shopping bag.
There was no audio on the footage.
Why was there no audio?
You’re too cheap. Cuán has the top of the range—
Shut up, Kael.
I followed her across the lobby and pulled up the floor footage. She walked into the kitchen. I zoomed in, working through the frosted glass. A white box on the counter. The shopping bag folded neatly and tucked away into her handbag like she’d done it a hundred times. Methodical. Unhurried.
She lifted the lid.
A very large chocolate cake.
Within five hours, Shit-gate had begun.
It was her.
It was always her.
You gave her a pay rise instead of killing her, Kael drawled.
She had poisoned my employees. Most of an entire floor. Reduced grown adults to negotiating over toilet cubicles and power-walking to the fire exit with their dignity in their hands.
That devious little—
Then there was the matter of Finley McAdam’s missing balls.
I checked my watch.
It was time for my appointment at the hospital.
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With my leather satchel in hand and my prescriptionless glasses in place, I approached Finley McAdam’s bed.
He had a private room. That was unusual for the NHS. Either his mother had insisted or the staff had quietly moved him out of the open ward to spare him the questions. Probably the latter.
His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. He didn’t look at me.
I followed his gaze. Just a cream-coloured wall.
The room had the distinct flatness of an NHS side room—a single window with the blind half-drawn, a wheeled tray pushed slightly out of reach, the hum of the corridor doing what corridor noise did. Somewhere down the ward a buzzer was going off. Had been going off for a while, by the sound of it.
“Mr McAdam, I’m Cuán McKinley from JMK Solicitors. I’ve come to see you about an accident and injury claim you wish to pursue. Your mother contacted us.”
His head jerked towards me. The eyes were hollow.
He looks traumatised, Kael noted.
He’s missing most of his balls.
True.
Are you going to tell Cuán you used his name?
No. And you’re not telling Conall either, I added, thinking about Cuán’s wolf.
I unbuckled my satchel and sat in the chair beside the bed.
“I want her to pay for what sh-she did to me. I might never have children. They won’t know until the swelling goes down,” he said, staring at his crotch.
“I need you to tell me everything. With as much detail as you can. This will ensure you have a strong case. Start from the beginning. Who is she?”
“My ex. I went to our— her apartment. The bitch kicked me out. She went off on a holiday all by herself and then came back to change the locks on the doors.”
He whines a lot, Kael said.
Yes. I’m beginning to see why she ditched him.
“She didn’t give you all your belongings back? If not, we can add that to the lawsuit.”
“No, she dumped my belongings on the landing. Boxed and bagged.”
Decent of her. But okay.
He glanced up at me and began to wring his hands.
“I was drunk when I got there. Angry.” He looked at the wall again. “But she had no fucking right to do what she did.”
I tapped my pen against the notepad.
This bastard had done something.
“It’s okay. It was the alcohol, not you. What did you do?” I asked him gently.
“I—” He paused. “Look, I didn’t mean to. It just happened.”
I waited.
“I hit her,” he mumbled. “It was all just for show, you know. The knife. I didn’t know what I was doing.”
Kael went still.
The pen stopped moving in my hand. I made myself start it again before he could notice.
He’d taken a knife into her flat.
A knife.
I’d had her in my conference room and watched her hands close into fists on either side of her laptop.
I’d watched the muscle twitch in her cheek.
I’d assumed everything I needed to know about Nika Horvat from the cold and the disdain and the murder in her eyes—and at no point had it occurred to me to wonder what someone had done to put it there.
I refocused. I was Cuán McKinley. I was here for a testimony.
“Is that when she set her dog on you?”
He began to blink rapidly.
He’s about to fucking cry, Kael chortled.
I bit my lip as Finley’s eyes welled up.
“Sh-sh-she turned into a d-dog,” he cried. “Th-those long t-teeth. She tried to tear my dick and balls off.”
“And what breed was she?” I asked, raising my pen.
His head swivelled around. Eyes wide. Tears running down his cheeks.
“You believe me? No one believes me. They tried to have me evaluated after the drug test.”
“I believe what you believe, Mr McAdam. I am here as your representative. Now—the breed? Or describe the dog. Height, colouring, ear shape, snout features.”
“It all happened so fast,” he sniffed. “And the pain—”
He closed his eyes. I sighed.
“My balls will never be the same again. What if I can’t get a hard on because I’m so conscious of my mutilated ball? I only have one left.” He covered his face and sobbed into his hands.
Tell him to hurry up or I’ll bite the other one off, Kael growled.
“You have a strong case, Mr McAdam,” I murmured. “But you must be brave if you want to be compensated for your—loss. No man should bear this indignity.”
“Sh-she was large. Like those foreign breeds.” He hiccupped. “Grey snout. Bits of brown around her face. I could only see death in those black eyes, Mr McKinley. The nightmares won’t stop.”
They’re so fragile, Kael muttered.
His voice echoed in disgust. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was his or mine.
I jotted the details down.
Not a dog. Not a fox. The faint thread I’d caught in the conference room—old, bloodline-deep, refusing a clean name.
A wolf.
But not a wolf.
I placed my notebook and pen back into my satchel. When I stood, I set it on the chair before I leaned over him.
Before he could say anything, I swiped the covers back and grabbed what remained of his balls, slapping my other hand over his mouth. The hospital gown was the only barrier between us. I squeezed.
His scream was muffled.
Kael didn’t need prompting. He growled.
My snout lengthened. Bone shifting just enough. Teeth dropping forward.
Just enough to be unmistakable.
His eyes were so wide I thought they would pop right out of his skull. His sobs resumed against my palm.
Just as quickly, I morphed back.
“If you ever mention a word about this incident, or attempt to contact Nika Horvat—well. You’ve seen what I am. I won’t stop at your balls. Nod if you understand.”
He nodded. Frantic. Repeated. Like a man who had finally located the correct response and was unwilling to risk a second one.
I removed my hand just in time to see him piss himself.
I wiped my hand on his blanket, just in case.
“Excellent,” I said cheerfully, turning to lift my satchel. “No one will be in touch. Unless you make us.”
When I left, I made sure my head was tilted downwards. The last thing I wanted was to be caught on the hospital’s CCTV.
We should kill him once he’s released, Kael growled.
The partial shift had excited him.
No need. He’ll have nightmares about us for as long as he lives. He’ll probably end up in a mental care facility.
He didn’t say anything.
But the energy shifted once we were outside.
We only had one thing on our minds.
Nika Horvat and her bad wolf.