CHAPTER TWO
Cat rolled his eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
Spike said, “Nightbeat’s always serious. Bleedin’ wanker.”
“What makes you think it was murder?” Angel asked.
Nightbeat hesitated. He didn’t know if it was a good idea to answer this question, at least not in front of everyone else. The truth was, he didn’t know for sure. He had a gut feeling, nothing more. “There is going to be an investigation. For the time being, I’d rather not tip my hand.”
“I can only assume I’m the number one suspect?” Cat asked. He waved a mittened hand near his face like a fan. “Be still my beating heart.”
“You’ll know soon enough,” Nightbeat said. He didn’t think Cat did it, despite the long list of horrible things he was capable of. Still, he couldn’t dismiss the misanthrope out of hand. Nightbeat needed to be objective.
He glanced around. Everyone was there. It meant nothing. The killer could very easily have snuck back in while he wasn’t looking. Wait, there was someone missing. “Where’s Felix?”
“Yo!” This from Don Snowy. “He’s over here!” Pointing.
Nightbeat walked over to Don Snowy, who pointed into the closet. There was Felix the Cat, passed out in a puddle of his own sick. He reeked of gin.
“Jesus Christ,” Nightbeat said. “Hey Felix! Wake up!” Nudging the black feline.
“What the fuck do you want?” Felix muttered. “I’m sleeping. Go ‘way.”
“Goddammit, Felix. Wake up!”
“Have my secretary autograph a picture for you. She’s great. Better at signing things than me. Great big hooters, too.”
Nightbeat could feel his teeth grinding against each other. “Felix! Joey’s dead!”
That must have broken through the booze haze. Felix’s eyes straightened out, and red as they were, they locked with Nightbeat’s. “Joey? Can’t be. He’s just a kid.”
“Took a header down the stairs,” Spike said.
“What happened? Did he trip?”
Nightbeat kept a poker face. “I think he was murdered.”
“Murder?” Felix
shuddered, remembering the old
“That’s what I intend to find out.” Nightbeat looked out at the crowd. They buzzed with the news. With sorrow. With anticipation of the possible adventure about to begin. He would have to interview them all, and he would need help. Angel and Spike used to be detectives, although he didn’t trust Spike. He was a bit slippery.
Nightbeat approached Angel. “I’m going to need help with my investigation. You up for it?”
Angel waved a dismissive hand. “Those days are behind me. Besides, I was only ever good for beating the shit out of people. My team usually did the investigating.”
“Cheer up, mate,” Spike said. “You’re also good at whinging and brooding.”
“Oh shut up, Spike.”
“I could use the help,” Nightbeat said. “Come on. This isn’t your first rodeo.”
“No,” Angel said again. “Just . . . no.” He walked away, seeking out a pint of alcohol-infused blood.
Nightbeat sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it alone.” Thinking about how much longer this task was going to be without Angel’s help. He looked to everyone else. “All right, all! Line up here.” Pointing to the edge of the closet. “I’m going to use this closet as an office. One by one, I’m going to interview you until I’ve talked to you all. Understood?”
“Oh bother,” Cat said. “I’d rather not play this game of sillybuggers. I have souls to eat.”
“Namely Joey’s?” Nightbeat asked.
“No need to be so crass,” Cat said. “But maybe.” He slinked away, tail twitching.
Nightbeat had an urge to stop Cat and have him be the first interviewee, but this was not time for pettiness. He had enough on his plate as it was, and nothing but the cold hard facts would help him in this time of need.
The others had lined up, Felix at the front, since he was the closest. He weaved slightly, probably still drunk.
“Okay Felix,” Nightbeat said. “You first. Let’s go.”
Felix staggered into the closet with Nightbeat, closing the door just enough so the others would have to strain to hear what they had to say.
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