Emerald City Blues by Peter Smalley

the stern. I smelled it before I saw it. A large space had been cleared there. Incense burned and the red candles were placed just so. He was preparing a ritual of some kind. I was pretty sure didn't want to know what kind. "Officer Malloy and I ran up to the deck and found Mr. Davidovich beating Miss Kildyusheva with a club." Nikolai looked up when I cleared my throat. He smiled and pointed Gerd's primstav at me. Crates flew like chaff. So did Dasha. "Officer Malloy intervened and was struck several times bef ore disarming his assailant. Then Mr. Davidovich threw Officer Malloy through a window." Seeing me unharmed made Nikolai pause. Then, from out of nowhere, Malloy leapt onto him from atop a stack of crates. He struck with the sound of an egg cracked into hot skillet and was instantly flung backwards. He collided with a bulkhead and fell to the floor, stunned and bleeding from a dozen wounds. "I attempted to assist Miss Kildyusheva in getting out of harm's way. Then Mr. Davidovich rushed at me and Miss Kildyusheva. I pushed her out of the way and dodged Mr. Davidovich's rush. His own momentum carried him over the side and into Puget Sound." 'Give it up, Nikolai. We both know you can't do anything to me.  I hold your measure.' He kept advancing, slowly. An awful light grew on the primstav and coiled up his arm, wreathed his shoulders and set an eldritch halo about his head. His eyes were electric with power but his voice was soft. 'Shall we see about that, failed apprentice? You are just like that old man you once called Master: blind to the inevitability of your death at my hands.' Nikolai raised the primstav and pointed it at me. Runes of power thundered from his mouth. "We didn't hear anything from him after that, as we were busy providing first aid for Officer Malloy." I raised my Beretta and shot Nikolai in the face. He flew backwards and struck the hull. He never moved after that. "A short time later Officer Nyquist came on the scene and helped us take Officer Malloy to Swedish. Miss Kildyusheva declined medical attention and left to check into a hotel, but with Officer Malloy in a bad way, Officer Nyquist requested that I come and make a statement." I pulled Dasha to her feet, helped her collect her wits, and together we half-dragged Malloy off the ship. It was pure luck Nyquist came by when he did. Dasha made sure he remembered events just the way she described them to him, then made herself scarce while I ushered Malloy to the hospital. "I was still making an official statement when you came on shift this morning and decided to involve yourself in someone else's case."
    Mercer hadn't changed his position for the whole length of my recitation. I was pleased. I'd gotten it more or less verbatim from the first time I'd told it to him, about an hour ago , and kept the truth well hidden behind my eyes. He was less pleased, apparently.
    "Your story doesn't hold water," he said bluntly, leaning back in his wooden chair and lighting up a cigarette. He was letting the suspect sweat and then say too much. More cop school tactics. "No one on any of the other ships in port saw anything like the altercation you described. I had men out in boats dragging the harbor for this Dah-vee-doh-vich character you claim assaulted you and Malloy. They couldn't find a body. So, did he swim away, angel?" He made little dog-paddling motions with his hands. "Out of Elliot Bay and Puget Sound, across the Pacific and back to Russia, maybe?"
    I shrugged. It wasn't worth telling him what I thought. He had yet to believe a single thing I'd said. "You're the detective-lieutenant around here. I'm just an honest, hard-working citizen doing her civic duty." I gave him my brightest smile and he chewed nails for a while. Long enough to discover he didn't much care for the taste, anyway.
    He made a shooing gesture at me. "All right. I'm done. Go on, get out of here." I rose. "But don't leave town, angel. You're still a person of interest until I say