Death & the City Book Two by Lisa Scullard Page A

agenda or attachment to the outcome," Elaine tells me. "And it was like, there he was, in the pub when she popped in with her beach pebbles. Both of them regulars, neither had ever crossed paths before. It was like magic, she said. But bigger magic and better magic and stronger magic than the magic she was always trying to control herself."

    It's odd being out with Connor in public as a couple, both as civilians for the first time. In a way I guess having to use it as our cover for work helps allay some of the weirdness, but not all of it. I remember we're putting on an act, but I'd feel more comfortable alone with him being myself, where at least we can talk openly.

    Connor had picked me up on time, and head office had told me to wear something nondescript and 'Bluesy' so I'd grabbed Junior's old black, white and silver skull badge cowboy boots, a denim skirt and white Soul Cal t-shirt, going for the casual line-dance class look, and a leather jacket. Connor had also picked a white Nascar t-shirt and leather jacket with his jeans, and smirked and said at least the synchronicity looked like we got dressed together. I'm just bothered that the dress code makes us look a bit too Hollywood. Plus we were off to hang out in a bar, in public. Talk about stereotyping.
    "Head office mentioned the work projection you gave them earlier," he had said, as he started the car. "Sounds like it could be useful. Will keep me busy if it does, but that's the way things go, I guess."
    "What do you mean?" I asked.
    "You never asked me about Pest Control," he remarked, as we set off. "It wasn't like I woke up one day and decided I wanted to shoot animals for fun. It started with a tribal land rights issue, and a claim by Tribe A that another tribe, call them Tribe B, had left the ground cursed, that crops would disappear, babies would be stolen in the night, and it was all the work of hereditary witch doctors. So a tribal contract came up for the latest in the generations of these witch doctors.
    "I was working for the police at the time, and went over to investigate why this so-called witch doctor farmer had a price on his head. It turned out there was an old land ownership rights issue, and if the farmer in Tribe B was found guilty of witch doctoring, his land would be given to Tribe A as compensation. What Tribe A was predicting was happening, but I had to prove to them that the culprits were vermin and natural predators - not spirits, controlled by the farmer in the other tribe, or his ancestors.
    "We took the landowners out at night and showed them rats and wild dogs and donkeys raiding their stores, then took them out the next day, and they witnessed us shooting the pests. Built some new more secure storage for them, put new doors on the farmhouses, installed some electric fencing, did the job. There's still stories of curses, but no revenge action being taken. The tribes send each other seasonal curses like Christmas greetings now. Happy new harvest, may the sands take you and all you grow become as dust, by the way, thank you for the help you gave us digging a new well, it's still working fine . That sort of thing. Pest Control visit twice a year and take care of maintenance. My job in that case was to disprove human cause when the concern came up, and as other cases came in that were similar, I got those too as my way of dealing with it got the message across in those territories. And I ended up with Pest Control full-time, instead of boring day-to-day police paperwork. So coming over here, joining the force again, and dealing with hit-men was a step backwards for me. Like blackmail would be for you."
    "You de-bunked targets?" I remarked. "I looked on your computer earlier. I thought you seemed to be interested in researching a lot of stuff that wasn't what I thought you dealt with."
    He shrugged.
    "It worked in more basic fundamental societies, and some religious ones," he admitted. "Westernized culture is more complicated, and less