“Probably better to think of me as a carnivorous plant with legs. If they’re wise, they’ll just give up now, immediately. At least they’ll have a chance of staying alive.”

“After the station?”

“I’ll pass by Le Foxy Kebab, not for the food. I’ll go back upstairs, see what happens. By the end of the day we should have a couple of new facts.”

“A clearer fact-pattern, Keeler. Connected constellations.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The drive back to Alencourt took over an hour. We entered along the river, from the south. A low fog hung across the water. The mist had already burned off the shallows but lingered where the river was deepest. It was still early Monday morning and the sun glanced off the water and made the trees glow from underneath. Traffic wasn’t bad and Nazari parked the car at a quarter to eight in the morning.

I got out and stretched. Cracked my knuckles and arched my back a couple of times, cracking joints there as well. I felt good. Pampered and rested after only a couple hours sleep. Ready for anything.

She locked the car. She was looking at me with a smile on her face. I said, “What are you smiling at?”

“You. You look amped. As if you’re excited about the prospect of someone coming after you.”

She was right. I was excited about that prospect. “I won’t lie. I feel good. Feel like cracking heads. But, it’s not like I’m impatient or anything. Don’t forget, I’ve got experience in this department.”

“The cracking heads department?”

“That’s right.”

I followed her into the police station, which was open for business as usual. The desk officer was back at his post. I waited while she figured out a visitor badge for me. The coffee machine hummed with potential. The spiky plant had closed for the day, maybe digesting whatever unlucky creatures had tried to settle during the night.

Nazari buzzed us into the working part of the police station. She left me by the better coffee machine while she went to the staff lockers to get changed. A couple of uniformed officers looked at me, but left me alone. The visitor pass hung around my neck on a blue lanyard. I filled a small paper cone with water and drank it.

The room was arranged around a grid of four desks, three of them empty. One desk was occupied by an older man in Municipal Police uniform. Three younger uniformed officers were gathered around in a cozy huddle drinking better coffee and speaking quietly. All four officers were male and armed with Sig-Pros in identical holsters. I figured they were the day shift waiting for the late night shift to come in from the field.