The Goblin Hill Apartments were just like anything else in old Big City: overcrowded, dark and unimaginatively named. The small, dank rooms smelled of mothballs and mildew, while sounds of the building’s community echoed throughout its hallways and out onto the slick-shiny streets that bordered it on all sides into an uninspiring block of nowhere.

 

            Housing over a thousand tenants, the Goblin Hill Apartments was made up of a diverse community of working class goblins, humans, elves, and, lately, even vampires.  The whole area was known to be a dangerous place to go even during the daytime.  Tales ranging from horrifying urban legends to even more horrifying true stories crept out even to the suburbs of Big City, assuring that there would be no Daddy’s Little Girls hanging out in the decrepit shopping plaza or twenty-five year old Mama’s Boys in line at the liquor store.

 

            The majority of the lower class tenants were still goblins, recalling the days when the whole neighborhood of Goblin Hill was, according to its residents, its own city run by its own mayor, the Goblin Mob Boss: Oscar ‘Blade’ Hexter.  Hexter organized the neighborhood and protected it as well. Unfortunately, protecting it meant collecting from it.  The community had to engage some outside trade to other areas of Big City, giving up some of the privacy and personal comfort it had learned to enjoy back in the day when the rest of Big City was unconcerned about the goblin town. Now the older generations simultaneously praised Hexter’s service to the goblin community, while complaining bitterly to their younger family members about the non-goblins living in Goblin Hill.  They even perpetuated the very rumors that kept any money from being brought to the area, out of fear that the consumers would be mugged before they could spend it. This made for an angry racism that threatened to tear the Goblin Hill Apartments, in particular, to shreds.

 

            Especially after last Season.

 

            Therefore, Johnny Angel was always ready. Ready to fight, ready to defend and, most of all, ready to move. He was one of over two hundred elves that were relocated to the then-failing apartment complex after his previous one had burned down during the Holiday Season. Some said it was a human solstice tree or candelabra. Others thought it was the result of a spark igniting some vampire’s sleep box. Whatever the cause, the whole apartment building was burned to the ground and the residents had to relocate.

 

            Johnny was returning from another night of performing at the popular Mhalasia Club in uptown Big City. The nightclub was always standing room only to see a variety of acts performed by people like Johnny for the people who could actually afford see them.

 

They watched the comedy, the sirens and, in Johnny’s case, the crooner. They drank a lot of elven wine and smoked the trendy flower cigarettes that were being served through the Flower Bar. The Flower Bar was a conglomerate chain that had opened a dozen locations all over Big City at an alarming rate within the last five years. They even managed to get a counter in the Mhalasia Club.

 

            His night had been full of applause and the usual backstage party. The poor, but creative performers would have a nightly get together of their own, interrupted only by the performer’s turn to take the stage.

 

Tonight, one of the sirens had a new song for her audience. She had translated one of her ancient calls and created an brilliant, and quite alluring, song of longing.  While she got a good response from the crowd, she later admitted that she had sold herself out to singing what was basically aural porn.

 

She would probably go places…”make it big”.

 

Johnny wasn’t going anywhere but home and he wasn’t going to “make it big”; he wasn’t even sure he was going to make it walking through his neighborhood sometimes. He was, however, always greeted warmly by the Mhalasia’s audience and never had to pay for a drink.  But the night was over now. The audience had all said goodnight and returned to their secure homes out in Mistwood Heights, far from the grim realities that were waiting in the homes of their evening’s entertainment.

 

Not all of the audience left, though. The ones in Johnny’s head continued to follow him around and tell him how fantastic his show was…how fantastic he was. These phantom admirers always appeared to Johnny, during the quiet last stages of the high provided by his drug of choice: Anticipation.

 

The flattering hallucinations followed him all the way up to his apartment on the fourth floor. He had to ask them to quiet down so that he wouldn’t wake his sister, Rose, who would be sleeping on the living room sofa, waiting for him. As Johnny went inside, his hallucinogenic fans shushed each other.

 

As if she had heard, Rose sat up sleepily, “J’on?” she whispered, “Are you in?”

 

“I’m in.”

 

Johnny put his hand on her arm to let her know he was next to her before edging past his ‘fans’ to the kitchen. It was hard to stay quiet, as he knew from experience that the phantoms often wanted to talk over what real people were saying. And Rose’s hearing made up for her lack of sight. She would catch any rise in his voice.

 

“A good night?” she asked as she settled back to sleep.

 

“Yeah, real good,” said Johnny earnestly, “I’m pretty sure that Erin and I will be headlining next season.  We may even get to perform at other clubs around the city. Yes,” he continued quietly, “I do think so, so check us out before we go…” he stopped suddenly.

 

“What’s that mean?” Rose had caught that.

 

“Just thinking aloud,” said Johnny, pouring a glass of emerald colored fruit juice, “I do that sometimes.”

 

 Minutes later, as Johnny heated a TV dinner and Rose drifted back to sleep, one of the imaginary people said good-bye, a sign that things might be winding down for the night at last. He removed his pre-trayed food from the microwave and sat down to eat and talk briefly with his grateful public quietly, and in the privacy of his own head.

 

He barely felt the knife slit his throat and only had a few moments to choke on his own blood as the killer stabbed him to death.

 

Big City

“Anticipation”

 by Greg Twait

 

            Smiles Johnson always liked the idea of being a P.I, a Gumshoe, if you will. Not that he had any choice but to go private if he wanted to make a difference in Big City, but the idea had always appealed to him.

 

            He’d be in his office, some second story deal with his name painted on the window, feet on the desk with a bottle of bourbon consumed via coffee cup, when a gorgeous blond bombshell would slink through his door. Oh, she’d be coy at first, playing a little cat and mouse, before she finally broke down with a desperate plea for help. Oh, he’d be tough at first but then would agree to solve the mystery for his usual fee, plus expenses. The girl would slide over his desk and tell him how appreciative she could be…

 

            “Piggy Back Moons?” asked the waitress.

 

            Smiles nodded for her to set the plate down as he stubbed out his smoke. Tobacco. Not any of this trendy Flower Bar stuff.

 

            Across from him sat an older goblin woman. The waitress set down the woman’s Meaty Skillet. As Smiles looked over at her, he sensed that he had a painfully deep hangnail on his thumb.

 

            “So,” said Smiles, after the waitress left, “your husband has said that he’s been working late for, what, about a week?” The goblin woman nodded.

 

            “It’s been off and on for quite a while, a year maybe, but this week he’s hardly come home at all.”

 

            ‘So much for the picturesque P.I. bull.’ Smiles thought.  The Gobblin’ Goblin was hardly a corner office in an old loft. Even his actual office on the edge of Goblin Hill paled when compared to the fantasy. It was shut down while they sprayed for roaches anyway. The coffee cup was there, but full of coffee and Mrs. Kreslas was no looker and no bullshit. He pulled at his hangnail.

 

            “Okay,” nodded Smiles, “I’ve got a guy right now watching for him in the apartment building up in…” he checked his notepad, “Up in Goblin Hill.”  ‘Geeze,’ he thought, ‘I had to check that location by my notes? Not as sharp as we used to be, eh Smiles? Maybe I don’t deserve that corner office…’

 

            Mrs. Kreslas was unemotionally thorough, “So, you’ll have something for me when?” she asked, pulling a complex-looking hand held computer from her bag.  Johnson noted that the computer was an Official V12 Firestarter Pocket Lifebook featuring the trademark symbol of the car she drove. The very expensive and trendy car she drove. Smiles recalled that she had worn a T-shirt bearing an image of the car when she had first met with him yesterday. The hangnail seemed to concentrate an impossible amount of pain into that one small area.

 

            Mrs. Kreslas was still talking, “And how much will this cost me before I get any proof? You gave me the rates yesterday, but how much more exactly is usually meant by ‘expenses’?”

 

            Smiles shrugged and gestured to the food on the table, “This is probably a third of it.”

 

            “So,” said Mrs. Kreslas, “forty-five to fifty dollars a day for expenses?” She was pecking all this into her Lifebook, “We’re talking about almost fifteen hundred for a week…even if there’s no information..?” He salted his hash browns. A rogue grain stuck to the soft, red skin in his torn hangnail. It stuck there and burned, like his client’s voice in his brain.

 

*

 

Charlie Pickens sat in his car and played with a tear in the vinyl seat cover. He stared at the bleak apartment building, completely devoid of any architectural design of significance, just like the rest of the neighborhood. Goblins never really appreciated anything like that.

 

He was right in the middle of a thought about how the lack of form and decoration really was an art movement in itself, and was about to start appreciating the goblins’ philosophy about such things when an elf girl stumbled out of the building.

 

Things seemed to move more slowly for Charlie at times like this; it was like he always had plenty of time to react.  The more desperate the situation, the slower time seemed to pass. This was one of those times.

 

The first third of a second he noticed how pretty she was. Her short, black hair curved down her face hardly concealing her sharply pointed ears. She was wearing a light-colored, filmy sundress with old-fashioned roses on it. She was barefoot.

 

Which brought him to the second third of the moment in which he noticed her desperate stumble and the blood on her feet.

 

For the final third, Charlie noticed that she looked completely lost. She moved her arms around slowly and was speaking in a normal tone to, apparently, no one.

 

Feeling that he had lost a precious second, Charlie dashed from his car and ran to where she stood. As he neared her, he could hear her words: “Someone? Someone help? My brother’s being killed…” She was in shock.

 

Charlie put a hand on her small, pale shoulder and tried to speak like the help that she would want to hear, “I’m here to help you. My name is Charlie.”

 

“Someone’s killing my brother.”

 

“What floor? Room?”

 

“Fourth floor, first room.”

 

Charlie and the girl slipped into the foyer of the building. He moved her to a dark corner and told her to wait.  Looking up the gutted stairway to the upper floors, he felt for his revolver and his phone and called for an ambulance as he rushed up the stairs. There were elements of true hero stuff to be had here and he was going to check it out.

 

The first door on the second floor was open; a pale light crept into the hallway with some movement detected by subtle shadows. No noise came from inside. Charlie let his small gun slide into his hand via his arm holster.

 

This was the P.I. he wanted to be. Like the stories that his employer and friend, Smiles Johnson, had told him about his days with the BCPD and his old partner Stack Fury: Helping the Helpless. Investigating  the “Dangerous Unknown.” Coolly he let his pistol slide into his palm…This was much better than sitting out in that car.

 

Charlie stepped into the small apartment and saw blood in the kitchen, everywhere. The telltale shadows moving in the hallway could be attributed to a slowly revolving ceiling fan. He checked his corners and proceeded with caution. Everything moved very slowly.

 

As he peered over the counter into the kitchen, he saw the body of an elf crumpled against the cabinets, a large pool of blood still spreading out towards the rug in the living room. He had been violently murdered. His stare now mirrored his sister’s and saw just as much. He suddenly felt much less heroic.

 

A sound behind him in the hallway pulled him together enough to wheel around and take aim. A male goblin in his twenties put up his hands.

 

“Just next door!” shouted the goblin, “I didn’t see anything!” He began to step away.

 

“Freeze,” said Charlie calmly, “Who are you?”

 

The goblin spoke carefully, “My name is Vis’el. I heard noise. I thought the elves were fighting in here and I got out of bed to tell them to shut up.” Vis’el shifted his gaze to the kitchen, “But now I see that everything is all right, so I’ll just…”

 

Charlie lowered the gun, “Don’t move,” he said, “Just stay right there.”

 

‘This murder must have happened just moments before,’ thought Charlie. ‘There could still be someone in here.’

 

“Okay,” said Charlie quietly, “Take this.” He tossed his phone to Vis’el, while keeping his gun pointed towards the back rooms of the apartment, “Call the police and ask for Action and Fury.”

 

Vis’el started dialing, mumbling, “I don’t really want to get involved…”

 

Charlie thought he heard something fall in one of the rooms, “Detectives D’yen and Forray. Get them here…quick.”

 

As Charlie backed out of the apartment, Vis’el yelled at the police dispatcher about, “Some dead elf at the Goblin Hill Apartments.” Then Charlie heard a sob. He wheeled around to see the elf girl standing in the hallway, tears rolling down her cheeks. She had heard the Goblin. Charlie shut the door and led her outside.

*

Within the hour, Detective “Stack Fury” Forray arrived on the scene. As he pulled into the parking lot of the Goblin Hill Apartments, he noted a shadow lurking by the rear entrance. The figure was smoking and bent over the doorknob; Stack recognized the shadow as his over-zealous partner, “Needless Action” D’yen.

 

He’s probably already been all through the place, thought Stack as he approached Needless.

 

“What’s the story?” asked Stack

.

Needless looked up, his elven features looked uncharacteristically delicate compared to his barrel chest and muscled arms. He had been training to be a cop since he was in high school. His counselor told him he should be a model. That guy almost witnessed some Needless Action.

 

“The lab boys are up there, doing their thing,” said Needless, “I’m checking the outside first. This lock is designed for tenants only and it’s a tough one to crack. No one who didn’t have a key got through here unless they were let in.”

 

Stack nodded, “So either a neighbor or a friend,” he said, “How about the front?”

 

“No one came in or out for at least forty-five minutes before the event. Your boy Charlie Pickens happened to be staking it out and was the first one in.” Needless didn’t sound happy about this. He led Stack around to the front, rushing past the few reporters that had gathered behind the police line.

 

“Charlie say what he was checking out?” asked Stack.

 

“Typical infidelity stuff,” said Needless, holding up his badge to the officer at the door, “He’s still here. He claims he got in right away.” He shook his head, “An elf murdered on Goblin Hill. Lots of room for this to blow up into a racial thing, especially after the whole Elf Town Apartment fiasco.”

 

The huge Holiday blaze at the complex in Elf Town had left thousands homeless and desperate to get off the streets and out of the cold. Formerly sparsely occupied tenement buildings all over the city suddenly had to make waiting lists for needy families and individuals. The waiting list became a power trip to the landlords who bumped people off the list if they dared question the suddenly inflated rent or disagreed about anything in general. People who couldn’t afford the expensive and restricted leases found themselves in cramped apartments or out on the streets. The racism towards elves and vampires was fierce.

 

Needless filled Stack in as they entered the crime scene, “Victim’s name is J’on A’gel. Elf. Works over at the Mhalasia Club, uptown. A crooner. Looks like someone didn’t like the tune he was singing.” Needless crouched down by the body and pointed to the gored throat, “No more Johnny Golden Tonsils.”

 

Stack saw Charlie. He was in the back bedroom with a young girl and an attending paramedic. “Who’s the girl?” he asked.

 

Needless stood up, “That’s the sister, Rose,” he said, “She apparently witnessed the attack and went out to get help. That’s when Charlie got involved.”

 

“She identify anyone?”

 

“She’s blind.”

 

“She hear anything?”

 

Needless shook his head. “I don’t really know yet,” he said, “She’s in shock.”

 

 “Right,” said Stack, “You think about it: If the killer were a friend or neighbor, they would have known that she couldn’t I.D. them by sight.”

 

Needless smiled grimly, “A terrified blind girl is the perfect witness. She won’t be able to tell us that she knows nothing for at least a day or so.”

 

The lab technicians stepped away for a moment, and Needless began a search of the area around the body as Stack waved for Charlie to come into the living room.

 

 “She’s not cut or anything,” said Charlie, closing the door behind him, “I figure she was spared because she couldn’t see the killer.”

 

Stack produced a deck of cards from his inside pocket and began to shuffle, “You don’t think she just escaped?” he asked.

 

“Might have,” said Charlie, “It looks like a lot of intensity was devoted to butchering that guy. She might have slipped out. Though,” he continued, “She did have blood on her when she came out of the building, so she was there for the attack. She was saying that someone was killing her brother, not that he had been murdered.”

 

Stack looked around, “Where’s Smiles?”

 

“Not here yet,” said Charlie, “Maybe he can’t get in.”

 

“He can’t get in,” said Needless suddenly, “because this is police business.” He walked over to where the two men stood, “By the way, you got anything else to add?” he said to Charlie, “Because you have to leave soon.”

 

Charlie looked back towards the closed bedroom, “I’d like to stay with Rose. She’s really scared.”

 

Needless nodded, “Ride with her to the hospital. She says anything, you tell us.”

 

Stack glanced out into the hallway, “Who’s the pissed-off guy?” he nodded at Vis’el.

 

“Next door neighbor,” said Charlie, “He was coming over to complain about the noise when he ran into me.”

 

“Everyone seemed to react pretty quick to this,” said Needless, “Let’s get that guy’s statement again and you,” he said to Charlie, “Stay the hell away from reporters. The News would love to stir up a race riot.” He marched over to where Vis’el stood, yelling at the questioning officer.

 

Stack rolled his eyes and cut his deck of cards with a complicated four-step shuffle.

 

As Needless approached, Vis’el heightened his dramatics and loudly announced, “I have rights. I’ve told you everything…”

 

He was cut off by Needless’ forearm pushing him up to the wall, “G’luh-dammit, “ he hissed as he got into the goblin’s personal space, “It’s three in the morning. Your next-door neighbor just got murdered. I’ve got a headache. Shut the hell up.” Vis’el stopped, stunned. Needless lowered his arm and continued in a low voice.

 

“Anyone not like this guy? In this building?”

 

“I…I wouldn’t have thought anyone would have killed him,” stuttered Vis’el.

 

“So there were people who didn’t like him.”

 

“No one here likes the elves. Any of them.”

 

“So this could be a race related incident?”

 

“Yeah. Could be.”

 

“Don’t leave town,” Needless said, pushing him aside, “Okay everyone,” he said to the room, “Let’s do it. I need the body at the morgue within the hour. Pickens,” he said looking at Charlie, “Goodnight. Everyone else, stay away from reporters. If the EVUN gets wind of this, we’ll give that Elfnigma bitch a reason to make life in Big City a veritable hell, like she did last Season. Nobody wants that, right?”

*

Big City Morgue made no attempt to hide its business. Located three floors below the main level of the city hospital, it was a constantly cold and damp environment with the musty aroma of Grandma’s cellar after a thunderstorm.

 

Rather than reflecting the warm, sterile décor of the rest of the hospital, with its beige walls and recessed lighting, the morgue made its atmosphere obvious with the cement floors, cracked plaster and bare bulbs screwed into the wall sockets.

 

Stack and Needless stepped off the elevator and started down the hallway.

 

“You called the Medical Examiner already?” asked Needless, “He’s expecting us, right?”

 

Stack stared straight ahead as they marched to the office door at the end of the hallway, “She knows,” he said, and then: “The gloom in here just sucks you right in, doesn’t it?”

 

They reached the office door and Stack knocked. Through the screened opening in the door, they could see someone coming. A woman appeared, wearing a spotless lab coat, “You’ve arrived,” she said as she unlocked the door.

 

Stack stepped in, “Sioux, this is my partner, John D’yen.”

 

Needless nodded at the Medical Examiner. She was a vampire.

 

Sioux returned the nod, “Right this way, detectives, I have something to show you.”

 

They followed her through the morgue office and into the examination room. The feeling of melancholy that permeated the hallways leading to the morgue gave way to professionalism as she stopped at a gurney on the far side of the room.

 

“The victim was taking the drug Repan 59/75,” said Sioux as she pulled back the sheet, exposing the face of Johnny Angel. His eyes were open. She looked back up at the detectives. They looked equally blank.

 

She continued, “It’s a ‘party’ drug, also known as Anticipation because of the immediacy of withdrawal symptoms after the high is over.”

 

Stack nodded, “Right. Okay. Been on the news lately.”

 

“That’s because the drug is a relatively new one, at least here in Big City. The first victim of overdose was brought in here less than a month ago. I asked you in so that I could educate you on this; you can see the tell-tale signs right here,” Sioux pulled out her pen light and shined it in Johnny’s dead eyes, “See that glazing over the retina? It’s actually more like corrosion. Anticipation is administered into the eye via a dropper. The user will experience hallucinations while under the influence, some of which stem from the corroded particles…” Sioux looked up and smiled, “Are you getting all this, Detective D’yen?”

 

Needless had been staring at her. Her willowy figure combined with slow, purposeful movements bordered between aristocratic and creepy. Her almost transparent skin looked slick and shiny. The light seemed to catch her eye just so…

 

“Yeah,” said Needless, “just a little sleepy. Sorry, go ahead.”

 

Sioux smiled and gave him a slow wink before continuing, “The hallucinations are not reported to be psychedelic in nature, but rather much more real. The person under the influence reports visions of a person or people whom the individual actually wants to see.” She paused, and then said, “In at least one case, the person claimed to have a very meaningful conversation with his dead brother.”

 

Unseen, Stack looked at Sioux. A gear in his mind creaked out a turn.

 

*

“What do you make of that?” asked Stack as he and Needless walked out of Big City Hospital, towards their car.

 

Needless lit a cigarette and reached for his keys, “I don’t make anything of it yet, but we haven’t gotten any real answers.” He stopped at the door to the car, “What we need to do is learn more about the drug. Maybe it’ll turn up a motive other than race. I don’t know about you, but that’s what everyone else is going to believe, especially now, after all that happened last Season.” Stack nodded as they both got in the car.

 

Needless looked at his watch and said, “You know who’s going to be up already with this story? Laura. We’ll let her know that we think it may be drug related and need more information. Hopefully, she’ll use that as her spin for the Herald.”

 

“And maybe that’ll help influence the News,” said Stack, “Damn, I’m going to get home late. Early, really. You know this means we’re going to be pulling an all nighter.”

 

“And an all dayer. Let’s stop for coffee.”

*

Laura Medrano could smell the bug spray all the way down in the lobby. By the time she reached Smiles’ office, she was used to it. Which, she thought to herself, probably was not good.

 

Smiles had told her to meet him here, as Charlie had been at the scene of a murder a few hours earlier. She had files pulled for a local nightclub and for the Goblin Hill Apartments. Other than that, she’d heard nothing yet about what exactly had happened, which worried her. While she would certainly be getting the better story, someone else was out there right now getting it first.

 

She knocked on the office door and went in. Smiles was at his desk immersed in a cloud of cigarette smoke, hat pushed back on his head, looking like he hadn’t shaved in days, with one hand on coffee and the other one scribbling notes; he got up when she entered. She always marveled at his ability to be gritty and polite at the same time.

 

“You want some coffee? Yeah, you do. I’ll get it for you.”

 

“What’s the story?” she asked, handing over her files.

 

“Normally, I wouldn’t even care about a case that I wasn’t being paid to care about, but Charlie was first on the scene and Stack and Needless are the detectives in charge, so there’s your official source for information. There was a murder of an elf over at the Goblin Hill Apartments.” He held up a file from the Arts & Leisure section for a singer named Angel, “This guy,” he said, “was killed. He and his sister were casualties of that whole price gouging thing that went down last Season, you remember that?”

 

“Oh,” she said, nodding, “The racial profiling of the homeless elves and vampires by the goblins and humans.” She knew he wouldn’t like that.

 

Smiles shook his head, “You see,” he said, “and that’s what a lot of other people are going to think of, which is why I bring it up.”

 

“Okay, so you don’t think that. What’s your angle?”

 

“This is more a class bias than a racial one, you know, the upper class screwing the lower, but Charlie made it clear that this could get big and riotous quick. We want to ask you to take your lead for your story in any direction except race, at least until we can get more information.” He saw a roach scuttle across the floor. So much for that.

 

“Charlie feels this way too?” asked Laura in disbelief, “Where is he, anyway?”

 

“He’s at the hospital with the sister. She was kind of in shock and he was the first person on the scene. If she says anything, he’s going to go to Stack and Needless with it.” A sharp beeping sounded in the room. Laura jumped to dig her pager out of her bag. Smiles didn’t move. He hated those things and was often the only one in a crowded room who didn’t flinch when one went off: he always knew it wasn’t his.

 

Laura looked at it, “That’s them. They probably want the same files you have,” she looked up at Smiles, “I won’t tell them you talked to me if you don’t tell them I was here.” She got up to leave.

 

“Think about what I said, though,” said Smiles, “I’m certain the elves are that close to taking action. Remember that transmission last Season?”

 

*

That Season transmission was all Laura thought about on her way to the Gobblin’ Goblin. It was in response to the weeks of News play about the vampires and elves that were moving into segregated neighborhoods after the big fire.

 

It came on during the Only Losers Don’t Watch Wednesdays on channel 5. Two hours of sitcoms proceeded by an hour of game shows and leading into an hour of drama, followed by News, then the late night talk shows which totaled about seven hours of prime television viewership. It started breaking in during Bet You’ll Lose, continued to attempt a transmission throughout Ted and Sylvia, finally broadcasting and hour later during News. 

 

It was said to be EVUN, the Elf Voices Union but no proof could be established to connect the vocal lobbyists to the act. The only one who appeared in the three-minute transmission was a disguised woman claiming to be “Elfnigma”. She was impassioned and spoke well. She rallied for a change. She wanted to unite all races and break apart all outdated thinking. She called out the offenders by name.  The Goblin Hill Apartments was especially blasted for its poor treatment of the homeless elves and vampires who had been forced to seek lodging there.

 

Laura was instantly converted. She wore her intolerance for racism on her sleeve. She even saw that movie with that cute guy in it about the vampires’ struggle for acceptance. She would talk to Stack and Needless but she would not back down from her fellow creations. She would not hide from the inevitable changes that would take place no matter how long everyone else tried to smooth it over.

 

She was about driving through Goblin Hill when she heard the radio crackle. She tuned it to catch better reception, then she realized: This could be it. She caught voices under the static. They were doing voice checks.

 

“Check One. Check. Check.”

 

‘Oh god,’ she thought, ‘they’ve heard. It’s going to start.’

 

Laura began to panic. She began to notice elves out on the streets more as she sped toward the diner where the two detectives would be waiting for her.

 

What if the television has already carried a broadcast? she thought, why else are they all out?

 

Now she was scared. She was, after all, human. And a woman. And alone.

 

As she pulled into the diner, she saw, with relief, that Stack and Needless were already there and heard, with more relief, no more crackling on the radio.

 

It all seems like a good idea until you’re alone and in it, she thought.  Maybe I will keep the story soft.  At least for a day or two.

 

*

 Charlie was there when Rose moved from shock to hysterics. The doctors thought it would be best to sedate her. She was crying and pleading for Charlie to believe her. He held her hand and listened as she fell asleep. By the time he stepped out into the hallway, he was concerned for the girl and disheartened about the case as it stood now. He pulled out his phone, dialed Smiles’ office and hoped he was still in. He was in luck.

 

“Big City Eyes.”

 

“Yeah, uh, it’s me. I’m going to go talk to Stack and Needless. Thought I should let you know. Laura show up?”

 

“Yeah, but she’s gone already to meet them at the Gobblin’.”

 

“You didn’t go?” asked Charlie.

 

“I don’t know anything. No point. I am, however, going to go snoop around the Goblin Hill Apartments tomorrow evening. I’ve got a paying client who still needs an answer about an unfaithful husband.”

 

“Then?”

 

“I’ll tell them if I see anything. But I’m not going to go looking for it. What do you have, anyway? She hear anything?” Smiles sounded tired.

 

“No. And what she said won’t help us any either.” said Charlie.

 

“Give me some credit for deduction. You mean no, as in, she’s too scared to talk or no, she didn’t hear her brother being killed in the same apartment.”

 

“No,” sighed Charlie, “as in she says there was no one in her apartment. She didn’t hear a single out of place step or any voice but her brother’s.”

 

“Give me exact words.”

 

“Okay, ‘There was no one in the room besides the two of us when he was being killed.’ Help any?”

 

Smiles paused, “No. Go ahead and meet up with everyone.  And give Laura back these files. Whatever you do, she never came to see me and don’t let Needless know I was involved at all. Not even interested. We’re out of this one.”

*

“So tell us about Anticipation,” said Stack. Needless folded his hands around his coffee mug and listened.  He and Stack had not told her anything about Angel yet but had mentioned the drug as being part of a new case.

 

“You think there’s a kingpin dealer of this ‘party’ drug who kills longtime customers? That’s usually reserved for the big boy narcotics that have large amounts of money invested,” said Laura. Stack shrugged. “Okay,” sighed Laura, “Repan 59/75 was originally developed as a physiological aid to be prescribed by therapists to patients. The original theory was if the patient could talk to someone familiar, someone welcome, then more progress could be made.”

 

Stack held up his hand, “What if the person the patient wanted to talk to was dead? Say a parent or spouse?”

 

“In even the earliest experiments, speaking with the dead was the most common hallucination. But,” she continued, “the reason it became so popular with club kids is because of the celebrity factor.” Laura smiled, “Meet your favorite star and maybe even spend a hot time on the old town.”

 

Stack looked at the spoon and his hand found its way to the dish of creamers.

 

“The drawback?” asked Needless, “Why isn’t it approved yet?”

 

Laura shook her head, “I’m not certain of all the problems but with a nickname like Anticipation I would imagine that it’s highly addictive. I can check the back stories at the paper if you want.” She watched Stack place one coffee creamer after another on top of each other into a pyramid shape.

 

“We do,” said Needless.

 

“Okay, I’ll get right back to you. Now,” she smiled again and spread her hands, “Eye for an eye.” She pulled out a small notebook.

 

Stack was adding Needless’ silverware to the pyramid as a type of balance or ramp. Laura waited.

 

“A crooner named Johnny Angel was killed in his home last evening,” Needless said as he checked his watch, “About six hours ago. The Medical Examiner detected corrosion on his eyes that marked frequent use of Anticipation. Is there some kind of dangerous trade connected with this drug?”

 

Laura shrugged, “I suppose there could be. I’ll check on that as well. You think this could be a motive?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay,” sighed Laura, writing in her notebook, “Anything else I should know before I start exploring other sources for information, which may or may not be true?”

 

Stack looked up, “Like?”

 

Laura put away her notebook and made ready to excuse herself. ‘Fine,’ she thought, no use  telling them about the transmission she heard on the way over. She’d go to Charlie with that one.

 

As she rose, she said, “An elf killed in the Goblin Hill Apartments smells like a racial incident to me. If you guys are done being mysterious, I have work to do.” She dropped a dollar onto the table, “I’ll stay in touch, detectives.”

 

As she walked out, Needless switched to the other side of the diner booth. Stack seemed preoccupied with his pyramid.

 

“She’s already spoken to someone about this,” said Needless. Then he looked up and smiled, “And I have a good idea who it might have been.”

 

As if cued, Charlie Pickens wandered into the diner and looked around. Seeing Needless, he walked over to the detectives.

 

“I’ve got information,” he said, “but it’s really pretty useless. Laura tell you about the radio transmission?”

 

“No,” said Needless, raising an eyebrow at Stack, “Imagine that. Okay, spill it.”

 

Charlie sat next to Stack, “She said that she heard someone trying to break in over the airwaves on her way here. They did a sound check. That’s all she told me in the parking lot. As for what I have,” he continued, “Rose, that’s the blind sister.” Needless nodded impatiently. “She got coherent enough to tell me that she felt that there was no one in the room at the time of the murder. She heard no one and,” Charlie used finger quotes, “’felt’ no one. Like vibrations on the floor.”

 

“Wonderful,” said Needless as he rolled his eyes. Then to Stack: “You doing all right there?”

 

Stack looked up, “Just listening and thinking.”

 

Charlie motioned to the waitress for coffee and continued, “She did hear Angel talking to people but heard no one talk back.”

 

“Hallucinations,” said Stack, nodding.

 

The waitress appeared with the dinners that the detectives had ordered, along with Charlie’s coffee. Needless looked around, then swiped the silverware Stack was using as building material. The pyramid fell.

 

*

The evening papers the next day carried the story about how the handsome elf singer had been brutally murdered in his apartment. The story, as reported by Laura, thankfully was free of any mention of the motive being race related. Smiles put the paper down and turned on the radio. It was six p.m.

 

He began to pack up his bag for tonight’s watch on the Goblin Hill Apartments. The goblin infidelity case he was working on seemed like a waste of time in comparison to the tragic murder there the night before. Besides, would the cheating husband want to take the risk of being there, what with the building being the scene of a crime and all? Probably not. Not if he was smart. Smiles’ job often depended on people making dumb moves.

 

Smiles thought for a moment about calling Charlie and telling him that he would relieve him early, then decided against it. Spending more time there, alone, watching the apartments with out so much as a radio for company was bound to be another one of those situations when he would just sit there and think about all the mistakes he made in life. Boredom does that.

 

Sitting down with a cup of coffee, he looked over his simple case. Cheating husband who tells his wife he’s working late and goes to his girlfriend’s apartment. Typical upper-class stuff. He had a picture of the husband, Jefz Kreslas, but he had no information on the girl. Mrs. Kreslas was real vague in her suspicions.

 

Two roaches hurried along the wall behind the water cooler. It only took that much to make him even more depressed. Then the radio crackled.

 

“Testing one….” Static filled the airwaves.

 

Smiles leaned forward and suddenly got really scared.

 

*

At that very moment, Christine, a young girl who worked in the BCPD was also listening to the radio.

 

“We are EVUN,” said a voice through the static, “We are many.”

 

Christine, hands shaking, dialed Stack Fury’s desk.

 

Stack picked up, “Forray.”

 

“Stack?” said Christine slowly, “Please turn on the radio.”

 

Slowly, Stack looked over at the transistor radio sitting on his desk. It was currently being incorporated into the department’s balancing sculpture competition. He motioned across the desk for Needless to turn the one on in front of him.

 

“What?” said Needless.

 

Christine’s voice was starting to break, “Please, Stack,” she said, “It’s the Elf Voices Union. They’re on 89.1.”

 

Stack instantly threw his arm into his kinetic sculpture and clicked on the radio. He didn’t even have to find the station: They had broken into all of them.

 

The static was heavy but the voice was clear enough, “Our brothers and sisters on Goblin Hill are in jeopardy. We will rise up and destroy the power that is the racist Goblin Hill Apartments. You were warned last Season. We said we would retaliate. And we will. Elves unite.” There was a long pause, then the message repeated.

 

            Suddenly, the whole station was in panic. Captain Breen was out barking orders to the scrambling officers. “You guys get the hell out to the Goblin Apartments!” he said, as the officers ran for their armor lockers, “Get your vests on! Special Weapons is going to need a lot of bodies out there. Get out there!”

 

            Needless jumped up and pulled open his desk drawer, “We better get ready for this.” He strapped on his shoulder holster with, Stack noted, the Really Big Gun.

 

            “You think all this is going to be necessary?” asked Stack pointing at the weapon, “It didn’t sound like an official call to arms to me. That wasn’t even the Elfnigma. We probably aren’t going to get that much of a…” He paused and watched as Needless loaded the Really Big Gun, “Does it matter?”

 

            Needless just stared lovingly at his weapon and said, “Not really.”

 

*

            Charlie watched the window carefully through a pair of pocket sized binoculars. He saw the goblin, Kreslas, moving back and forth in the ninth floor apartment and, with him, was a girl who Charlie was willing to bet was the girlfriend. Switching to a camera with a more powerful zoom lens, he centered on the two as they rushed past the window. Like they’re getting ready to move out, thought Charlie. He smiled. Old Johnson was going to love these pictures.

 

            He snapped one, then zoomed in and balanced the lens on the dashboard to get a nice clear picture. He caught the girl as she stood, looking out the window. He kept the camera on her; she looked concerned. And, strangely enough, like an elf.

 

            Charlie suddenly got a bad feeling and turned just in time to see a group of about ten elves running down the street towards him. They appeared very young and very angry.

 

            Everything slowed down as Charlie weighed his options. He could attempt to drive away and hope that they wouldn’t catch him. Another option was to duck down and hide and hope they wouldn’t see him. As usual, he opted for choice C.

 

            Kicking open the car door, he ran to the building and went in. The plan here was to hide out in the building until this mob could be controlled. He saw that the elves were starting to throw rocks at the windows as a few of them made for the door where he stood. A ping! sounded behind him.

 

            Kreslas and a young elf girl stepped off the elevator; Charlie didn’t even give them a chance to move. He ran at them and into the elevator car, pressing the close button as quickly as he could.

 

            “What are you doing?” yelled Kreslas, “You idiot, we’re trying to get out of here, don’t you know there’s about to be a riot?” Kreslas moved to get out of the elevator, causing the doors to stop in mid-close and open back up again.

 

            Charlie pulled Kreslas back into the elevator and pushed him down, “Your riot’s on already. I’m saving your life.” He looked out and saw the elves rushing into the lobby toward the elevator, but the doors were already closing. One of them took a shot, which grazed the girl’s temple, causing it to immediately gush blood. The doors closed.

 

            Charlie pushed the button for the ninth floor as Kreslas knelt beside the wounded girl, “Jaime!” he cried, “Oh no, if anything…Oh no…” Charlie gave Kreslas a handkerchief, which he used to wipe his bloodied mouth as he looked sadly at her. Charlie pulled it away from him.

 

            “The girl, dumbass,” he said, crouching down to push the cloth hard against her bloody head, “This your girlfriend?”

 

            The goblin looked blank, “No, why?”

 

            “Liar,” said Charlie, looking up to see what floor they were getting to, “I’m taking us to her apartment. We’ll hide out there.”

 

            Kreslas looked confused, “She doesn’t live here.”

 

            They reached the ninth floor and the doors opened. Charlie stared at Kreslas, “Yes she does. I got news for you, pal, I been watching.”

 

            As Charlie picked up the girl, Kreslas said, “I’m telling you, she doesn’t live here. I do.” Then he started to get angry, “And what the hell do you mean, you’ve been watching me?” Charlie pointed at the door.

 

            “We don’t have time to argue. Open the door.”

 

            Kreslas shook his head, “No.”

 

            “She needs to elevate her head. She’s bleeding all over the place.”

 

            “I’m not letting you in.”

 

            Charlie gently put the girl down and said, “Fine, I’ll have to leave her here. At least help me…” Charlie suddenly hit Kreslas hard in the eye, causing him to fall back and hit his head on a fire extinguisher, causing blood to immediately flow. Great, thought Charlie, Now he’s got a massive head wound.

 

            Searching the goblin’s pockets, Charlie found his keys and opened the door. Kreslas got up to try to stop him and almost blacked out.

 

            “I’d put some pressure on that,” said Charlie, “You’re bleeding pretty good, there.” He picked up Jaime and brought her inside.

 

*

Stack hadn’t seen Needless this happy in a few weeks. There they were, speeding down the streets towards the Goblin Hill Apartments where the riot would surely be underway by now. The music blaring through the speakers was track 06 on Needless’ mix CD, it was titled ‘Racing to the Scene’ and fit the mood very well. Stack could hear danger, excitement and heroism in the tracks’ motif. Unfortunately, Needless didn’t have much time to feel the music because the police station was not really very far from Goblin Hill. In no time, they could see the flashing lights, signaling that the Riot Squad was already there.

 

Pulling up on the handbrake, Needless spun the car into position facing the front door of the Goblin Hill Apartments. He kicked open the door, crouched behind it and aimed his weapon all at the same time. Stack noticed with his usual concern how ready Needless was to shoot someone. He got ready for insanity.

 

There was nothing.

 

Stack and Needless looked around for any signs of violence and saw none. A few of the riot officers were leading some defeated looking teenage elves to the arrest wagon. Needless looked crestfallen.

 

“Where’s my damned riot?” he said, looking around. Stack also looked and noticed a familiar face being detained outside of the police line. It was Smiles. Needless was too preoccupied with the non-riot to notice, so Stack walked over to Smiles.

 

“He’s with me,” said Stack to the officer, then to Smiles: “What are you doing here?” Smiles fell into step with Stack as they walked back toward the car.

 

“Charlie’s out here watching the building,” said Smiles, “We’ve still got our own case to solve, remember? I heard the warning on the radio and thought I better get out here and warn him before anything got serious.” Needless turned and saw the P.I. with Stack.

 

“Boy can’t take care of himself?” said Needless, lighting a smoke. “What the hell are you doing here, Johnson?”

 

“There’s no radio in our car,” said Smiles, “I thought I should let him know. Besides, we got a case going on here also, Detective Action. A private case.” He stared Needless down for a moment. A pretty damn tense moment, thought Stack.

 

Without another word, Needless turned and marched over to where the Special Weapons captain stood. Somebody was going to feel wrath for this. Stack turned to Smiles.

 

“Charlie told me that Laura said she heard a transmission trying to break through over the airwaves last night, a few hours after the murder.”

 

Smiles looked blank, “He hadn’t told me that,” he said.

 

“Yeah, well, he came into the Gobblin’ to tell us about the blind girl’s statement and Laura had just left. It was pretty late.” Stack shrugged, “That’s all there is to tell.”

 

Smiles looked around, “Where is that kid anyway? I see the car…”

 

“Hello!” yelled a voice from a ninth story apartment in the building, “I need a medic up here, 9F, a girl’s been shot!” It was Charlie. Before Smiles could yell back to him, Charlie disappeared back through the window. Smiles nodded.

 

“I’m going for coffee and dinner,” he said, “Send Charlie over when he comes down.” He walked away through the growing crowd, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, head down in his coat. Stack watched him walk away. Big change since they had been partners, the days when Smiles and Stack were on top of everything and could continually prove it. Lately, with Smiles working in the private sector, he had lost his officiallity and, with that, a lot of respect and credibility. Needless didn’t make things any easier on him.

 

Stack looked over and saw Needless in the face of one of the adolescent rioters. The kid had been gassed: Eyes red, throat raw, and snot running all over. Needless didn’t even have to yell; the kid was spilling everything.

*

Charlie heard the pounding at the door, “That was quick,” he said.

 

As soon as he said it, he knew it was too quick to be the EMTs. Although it looked to him like the mob had amounted to nothing outside, there was still a possibility that someone had followed them up. He looked over at Kreslas, who was sitting uselessly on the floor trying to staunch the blood from the cut in his head. Never take any chances you don’t have to, thought Charlie as he snapped his pistol into his hand from his arm holster. Man, he loved that.

 

The pounding suddenly got more frantic and a woman’s yelling became clear: “He’s trying to kill me!” came the cry.

 

Everything got really slow for Charlie as his instincts kicked in. He moved to one side of the door and let it open.

 

First third of the second: Middle-aged elf woman. Attractive. Bloody. Cuts on her arms and hands.

 

Next third: She was staring down the hallway. Terrified.

 

Final third: No one down there.

 

Charlie quickly stepped out into the hallway and pulled her into the room with the other wounded people. He tried to calm her, “Okay, now,” he said, “I’m going to go check this out for you.” He snapped his head over to Kreslas, “Hey, buddy,” said Charlie, “You’re not so wounded. I’m going to cover you in the hallway; you take her down  the elevator to the lobby. Don’t forget we still need an EMT for your girlfriend, here.”

 

Kreslas wouldn’t leave, “I’m not going to leave you alone in my apartment…” he started. Charlie’s world was still moving pretty slow, so he knew he was still in danger. Desperate times, desperate measures. He snapped out the pistol from his other arm holster and pointed it at Kreslas, “Move your ass,” said Charlie, “or I’ll tell the police that the guy in the next room killed you and I’ll do it with a straight face. Move!”

 

 Kreslas scanned the room quickly before taking the frightened woman by the arm and following Charlie into the hallway. Gun pointed towards an open door on the left, Charlie watched for any movement from either the door or Kreslas as the goblin and the elf woman got on the elevator. With them gone, Charlie backed into the apartment with the wounded girl. She was looking at him with glazed eyes. ‘Dammit,’ thought Charlie, ‘I’m going to lose her.’ It hadn’t seemed that serious.

 

“Hold on, sweetheart,” said Charlie with a smile.

 

“I’ve been shot in the head,” she whispered.

 

“No, just nicked. You’re actually fine.”

 

Jaime groaned, “I’m in so much trouble. It’s all my fault.”

 

“What is?”

 

Jaime pointed to a door on the far side of the room. Charlie looked at it, then back at her. She nodded and started to cry. Charlie got up and walked over to the door. He listened: a rapid beeping was coming from inside. A patterned beeping. He opened the door.

 

A short-wave radio transmitter was sitting on a small shelf in the closet sized space.

 

“He told me to keep it here, so his wife wouldn’t find it,” said Jaime sadly.

 

Suddenly, there was yelling outside. Charlie ran to the window.

 

Kreslas had his hands in the air, he was covered in blood. The police officers outside all had their guns on him. ‘Does this have something to do with the radio?’ thought Charlie.

 

Kreslas was crying and walking towards the officers. He was leaving a trail of blood behind him. ‘Oh god,’ thought Charlie, ‘where’s the lady?’

 

Needless Action was the first to step forward to make the arrest. Kreslas bolted and tried to run away. A rookie officer mistook it as an attack instead of an escape and blew Kreslas’ head all over the bland façade of the Goblin Hill Apartments.

 

*

Stack Fury and Needless Action again stepped into the cold, dark corridor of the Big City Morgue.

 

As they walked towards the Medical Examiner’s office, nothing made sense. Charlie’s testimony of the events that led to the capture and killing of Jefz Kreslas, the suspected murderer of Johnny Angel and one Miss A’ni Carcharel, it didn’t add up. Charlie claimed that Carcharel had been attacked moments earlier in her apartment, so he had sent Kreslas to escort her downstairs to a medic. Poor Charlie. Kreslas had so brutally murdered her that after the initial sweep, most of her had to be cleaned out of the elevator car the old-fashioned way: with a fire hose.

 

Yet there was no weapon.

 

Kreslas’ operative, a young elf girl named Jaime Lands, claimed to know nothing about him being a killer but did rat him out for sending pirate radio messages out after Angel’s murder to stir up the elven community into beginning the seemingly inevitable race riot. However, because the low-power transmission didn’t even get as far as Elf Town, and because most everyone in range would have been watching television at that time, no one but a group of hoods in a local pool hall had heeded the call.

 

Stack felt bad for Charlie and didn’t know what to believe. He was glad to hear that Sioux had some news, because he really wanted to clear this whole mess up. She met them in the hallway.

 

“Detectives,” she said in her accent tinged with aristocratic haughtiness, “This way.” The vampire tipped Needless a smile that sent a chill down his spine.

 

Sioux led them back to the refrigerated catacombs and opened one up. She pulled the slab out and pulled back the shroud covering Johnny Angel.

 

“I never get enough of seeing this guy,” said Needless. Stack nodded a ‘no kidding’ as Sioux pulling down more of the sheet, uncovering Angel’s butchered abdomen. She picked up his left hand and pointed.

 

“You see this defensive wound?” she asked, “Exit wound, right? The flesh pushed outward,” she turned the hand over, “Now match it up.” She turned the hand over a few times. Stack and Needless squinted in question. Sioux pointed it out, “No entrance wound.”

 

Needless bent in for a closer look; he had to almost tear his gaze away from Sioux’s hollow cheeks and shiny black eyes, “It appears that way,” he said, “Why would that be?”

 

Sioux shrugged, “Can’t tell yet.  Plus,” she said, “it’s not a singled out incident.” She walked around to the right side of the body and raised its arm, “See that one?” she asked pointing to a gouge, “Huge exit puncture right under the armpit. Know where the entrance wound is?” She pointed to a light wall with an x-ray attached to it.

 

Stack and Needless studied it, then turned back.

 

“In the heart?” asked Needless.

 

“Out of the fourteen exit wounds in this elf, ten of them have no matching entrance. That one in particular seems to have started in the left ventricle of the heart. Actually inside the chest. It’s like he was stabbed from the inside out.

”

*

“Well, screw this,” said Needless as he and Stack sat in their car out in the parking lot, “That didn’t answer anything. It just gave us another question. Maybe we should go ahead and check the club where Angel worked. See if anyone’s the dealer.”

 

Stack just sat there and made little towers out of the toll change on the dashboard. Needless was going to completely disregard the evidence presented by the Medical Examiner. Stack really wished Charlie wasn’t involved so closely in the case. The kid was really messed up with the possibility that he had sent a frightened woman into a terrifying elevator ride with a murderer. Stack was trying to put together how this new piece of information could work out in the case. If only that rookie cop hadn’t blown Kreslas’ head all over the place, he could send Needless in there to scare the information out of him. If only life weren’t full of ‘if only’s.’

 

*

Smiles Johnson walked into the Mhalasia Club in a suit. It was his best suit but that wasn’t saying much.

 

He laughed at the comedian and was wooed by the siren, but there was no crooner, though Angel’s name had yet to be taken off the marquee in the lobby. This was no accident. The Flower Bar was a frequent sponsor of the News and the News, in turn, delivered their story with information about the Mhalasia, so that viewers could ‘see where he used to perform’. Smiles knew this was garbage. No one knew about Johnny before the killing and no one cared. This was just a perverse kind of ghost hunt for them.

 

After the siren performed, Smiles wandered over to the counter where she was signing CDs for a growing line waiting to buy them. As he waited in line, he saw familiar faces come in the front door and being escorted backstage. It was Stack and Needless.  They had finally come to investigate.

 

Not that he could blame them for taking so long. The events of the last two days just seemed to pile one on top of the other. Had Smiles decided to get involved from the beginning, he himself would have come in here first thing. Now that Charlie was really in the middle of this mess, he felt it was his responsibility to get this case moving. That, and Mrs. Kreslas called to tell him that she would not, under any circumstances, continue to pay him now that her husband was dead. That was all. She just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to get a bill.

 

The whole conspiracy to elicit an uprising seemed just like part of a grander plan. Kreslas probably didn’t just like starting up angry mobs as a hobby. It all just wanted to add up but didn’t.

 

The two detectives disappeared backstage. They were probably going to check with the manager and find out who, among the performers, to talk to. Johnson knew better. The manager had a Flower Bar in here for crying out loud. There was no way they were going to admit to a drug problem. Smiles knew to go past the brains and go right to the heart.

 

“Hi,” said the siren as he handed her his new CD to sign.

 

“I really enjoyed the show,” said Smiles, “I wish Johnny were still with us. I always liked hearing him sing too.”

 

“Yeah,” she said sadly, “We’ll miss him.” The sadness was genuine.

 

“His sister’s doing well, though,” said Smiles as he made to walk away. She stopped him. He knew she would.

 

“She’s okay? I only met her once, she came to hear Johnny sing. She can’t see, right?”

 

Smiles finally smiled, “Oh no,” he said, “She can’t.” He looked behind him and said, “Look, when you’re done, I’ll be sitting right over at the bar. I’ll fill you in. My son’s a friend of hers.”

 

The siren nodded enthusiastically and returned to signing. Smiles checked her signature: Syv.

 

Smiles went to the bar and ordered a Whisk coffee. He didn’t really drink anymore but this one would keep him going for a bit. A few minutes later, Syv walked over.

 

She was wearing a sea-green dress with nautical accents: an anchor here, seashells there. Smiles thought he saw a inverted trident wrapped around her arm. She sat.

 

“So,” she said, “How’s she doing?” She motioned to the bartender for a drink.

 

Smiles shrugged, “She’s okay, like I said. My son was in the hospital with her the night it happened.”

 

“And what did she say?” asked Syv a little too quickly.

 

“Nothing,” returned Smiles, “She saw and heard nothing.”

 

Syv started to look a bit uncomfortable, “You know,” she started, “Johnny had a little problem. A little too much of the…” She pinched her fingers next to her eye, ”You know?”

 

Smiles shook his head, “No,” he lied.

 

“Anticipation. It’s a sweet high. He was always dropping.”

 

“That’s too bad. I won’t tell his sister.”

 

“That’s not the problem,” she said, “I was hoping that she might have told your son who did it. If she recognized a voice…” She paused and looked at him hopelessly, “from here,” she finished.

 

“Oh no,” whispered Johnson, “You mean someone from here…” he shook his head.

 

“Maybe,” she said, then: “Anyway, I hope she gets better. Thanks for letting me know how she is. Are there any plans for a service?”

 

“Haven’t heard,” replied Johnson, “Hey, have a good night.”

 

She blew him a starlet-style kiss and went backstage. Johnson turned to the bartender, “Hey,” he started, looking around, “How do I get my hands on some of that?”

 

The bartender looked really angry, “Not that kind of place, jackass, and she’s not that kind of girl.” He made to give Johnson some trouble.

.

“No, no,” said Johnson with a smile and a wave of his hands, “Some of that…” He made a pinch by his eye.

 

The bartender went from angry to stoic, “Get lost.”

 

“Not a cop.”

 

The bartender leaned over, “That’s entrapment.”

 

“Only if I was a cop.”

 

Looking around, the bartender said, “Yeah? Why didn’t you ask her for some?”

 

Smiles looked surprised, “She got some? I didn’t think…She’s a friend of my son’s…”

 

The bartender nodded, “Yeah,” he said, “Sorry ‘dad’ but your son’s hanging with a dealer.”

 

Smiles threw a couple of bucks on the counter, “Thanks for the drink,” he said nodding to the bills. One was a twenty, “How do I get it from her? She come over or what?”

 

“You’re a little old to be messing with The Want aren’t you? Okay, I’ll get it. You wait. If you’re a cop, I’ll have a lawyer run your ass. I’ll get it, then you get lost. I don’t want to see you down here beggin’ for the crap, all right?”

 

Smiles turned to his Whisk coffee. Bothering people always seemed to get the job done. He watched as Stack and Needless returned from backstage, Needless leading the way, mad as hell.

They told him to come back with a warrant, thought Smiles with a grin.

 

*

Charlie and Laura sat in her place listening to elven blues. Charlie was feeling those blues, oh yes sir.

 

Laura was trying her best to comfort him but she found the best thing she could do was remain silent. She was mad at him for getting so involved and she was mad at Smiles for relying on Charlie so much. Between the lake monster thing and now this, it was starting to get old. They used to joke about how they’d only get to see each other when she was reporting on a case he was working on. ‘Yeah, what a great joke,’ she thought.

 

Things didn’t get better when Smiles called, looking for him.

 

“I need to talk to Charlie,” said Smiles, over the phone.

 

“He can’t,” said Laura, “He’s had enough excitement. He’s just starting to get drowsy. Time for bed, Smiles.”

 

“Laura, I have to talk to him. I went down to the place where Angel worked. I think the siren he sang with is sold him the stuff. I need him to go down there.”

 

“And what, Smiles?” she said, almost sobbing, “Have him sweet talk the girl into giving up secrets? He’s not a super spy and you’re not his pimp.”

 

There was a pause, then Smiles said, “I’m not asking him to sleep with the girl, it’s just that…”

 

“Just that what?”

 

“I’ve already talked to her. She’s suspicious about the blind girl…”

 

“Rose, Smiles, she’s got a name.”

 

“Right, the siren’s suspicious about what Rose saw, er, heard. I think she might have done it. She’s an Anticipation dealer. The bartender down there might be in on it, I don’t know. I’ve got some of it here. I have some suspicions about its purity.”

 

Laura wasn’t having it, “What next? Going to get your little lab mouse to try it out? No way Smiles. You want to get in on this, you do it alone.” She hung up.

 

Walking into the next room, she saw that Charlie was asleep. She put a pillow under his head and sat down on the floor next to the couch.

 

Screw that guy, she thought, Leave Charlie alone for a day or two at least.

 

*

When Stack Fury showed up at Smiles’ office, Smiles knew he had been busted but, in the best way possible. He had kind of prayed for it.

 

“What were you doing at the Mhalasia?” he asked when Smiles opened the door.

 

“Same as you,” he replied, “Looking for information.” He noticed, with pleasure, that Stack had the case files with him.

 

Stack sat down in the overstuffed chair across from Smiles’ desk, “Well,” he said, “Now I’m looking for some. What’d you find?”

 

“Need a warrant to talk to those people?” said Smiles as he poured Stack some coffee. A roach ran out from behind the counter.

 

“Yeah,” said Stack, reaching for the cup, “The manager wouldn’t tell me anything. He said there was no way that there were any drugs in the club.”

 

            “Good thing I scored this before they tightened security in there, then.” Smiles held up a small glass vial.

 

            Stack stared for a moment, “Why the hell would you get that?” he asked.

 

            “To make a connection. The siren, her name is Syv, is apparently a dealer. This time I had to go through the bartender to get it, but next time I’m hoping to connect with her personally. I think she’s a good suspect on Angel.” Smiles pulled a wooden box out of his desk drawer, slid it over to Stack, and put his feet up.

 

Stack knew what it was. It was his set of children’s blocks that he had had back in the days when he and Smiles used to solve cases like this. He looked up.

 

            “I didn’t know you had these. I thought I threw them out.”

 

            “You did. The day I left. You got all dramatic and said you’d quit the force too. That you were going to get a job as a teacher or something.”

 

            Opening the box, Smiles noted that they were all there, all fifty of them. Some of them were triangular, some were square. Some were like columns. Stack began to take the blocks out, one by one and place them on the desk.

 

            “I’ve got a new piece of evidence,” he said, slowly, “And only you and I are crazy enough to believe it happened.”

 

            “I’m ready if you are,” said Smiles, “Fresh pot of coffee, complete case file, the blocks, Smiles, Stack,” he raised an eyebrow, “And a vial of what could be the newest problem to hit Big City since Pasketti. “

 

*

            Needless sat in his car and smoked. He was parked in front of the Mhalasia Club and he was feeling his temper rise. Come back with a warrant? He thought to himself, I’m gonna come back with a G’luh-damned nightmare.

 

            He saw movement in the alley between the club and the liquor store. He squinted. The figure walked out from the clubs back door, looking around nervously, then tried to duck into the store without being seen.

 

            Except that Needless saw him. And Needless recognized him. It was that mouthy little bastard from the Goblin Hill Apartments. Vis’el.

 

            Needless smiled as he pulled the Really Big Gun from under the seat of the car and switched it with the police issue one in his holster. He was pretty sure that someone was going into a world of horrible, excruciating, pain, just a few short moments from now.

 

            Stepping out of the car, Needless made a slow, careless walk to the liquor store. He saw Vis’el buy a bottle, then turn to walk back out. Needless fell back into the alley.

 

            Vis’el walked right into him as he hurried around the corner.

 

            “What’s the rush, buddy?” asked Needless, pushing him into a corner.

 

            “You!” said Vis’el. He must have recognized the voice because he probably couldn’t see him. Either that or he recognized the no-bullshit brute force, “You can’t do this! I’ll get a...!” Needless put some pressure on the goblin’s throat.

 

            “You can’t get shit if you can’t talk, buddy,” said Needless in his most sinister voice, “You better spill or I’m gonna leave you dead in this alley. Test me.” He squeezed a little harder.

 

*         

            The little wooden house was pretty impressive. Stack had built this one before but he kind of missed seeing it. Smiles poured another cup of coffee. The facts were clear but the case was still as full of holes as Johnny.

 

            “If the false riot was some kind of diversion, what would it be for?” asked Smiles as he returned to his chair, “The killer?”

 

            “And if Kreslas wasn’t the killer, then who was?” asked Stack quietly as he studied the house. He would build one of his own one day. And probably figure out the meaning of life as he did it.

 

            “You think the elevator stopped and the killer got Carcharel on another floor?”

 

            “No idea. I was looking at reports in Laura’s files. There was nothing in any of them about violent episodes.” Stack paused. “Look, if Carcharel was on the stuff, I’m sure that the ME will find the same kind of wounds.”

           

            Smiles looked at his watch. “I have to talk to Charlie. He’s at Laura’s. Care to join me?”

 

            Stack continued to look at the house. “No. I have to think.”

 

            Smiles had seen that look before. He silently walked to the door and left Stack with his thoughts.

 

            The idea had been nagging Stack since this whole thing started. He was desperate for closure. He needed to know.

           

            Stack looked at the vial, then at his little house. He reached over and opened Smile’s desk drawer and found a key to the door. With this, he walked over and locked the office door. It was almost like he couldn’t wait to do it. He couldn’t wait to see Gina again. It was almost like Anticipation.

*

Vis’el sat down in the alley and said, “All right, I’ll spill. Let’s talk. No more rough shit.” He rubbed his throat, where, Needless noted with some satisfaction, he might have left a huge bruise. Needless folded his arms and waited.

 

            And that’s when Vis’el threw the water into his face. Needless recovered quickly from the shock and cracked Vis’el a good one to the chest, knocking the wind out of him. As the goblin sat there, wheezing, Needless suddenly felt his eyes contract, like the outside was shrinking. He backed up blindly as, he was sure, Vis’el made his escape.

 

            Needless regained his sight but there was no sign of the goblin. He cursed himself for being careless and stumbled back to his car.

 

            Needless began yelling. “You’re dead Vis’el. You are one dead goblin!”

 

            “Hey J’on,” said a voice from the shadows, “You want to talk to me about something?”

 

            Needless spun around and aimed his gun. His long dead brother Edward stepped out of the shadows, brandishing a knife.

 

*

Charlie awoke to knock at the door. It was Smiles. Laura ran to intercept.

 

“No, no,”  said Smiles putting his hands up in defense, “Nothing work related. I’m doing it by myself. With the help of some old tried and true methods. I just need a break.” He looked over at Charlie, “How you feeling?”

 

“Not good,” said Charlie quietly, “It’s better when I sleep.” Laura glared at Smiles.

 

“See?” she said angrily.

 

Smiles stood in the doorway. He could tell that he was not going to be invited in, “I just want you to know,” he said to Charlie, “And you too, Laura, that if you ever need to just talk, you can come to me. I’ll listen to everything. I always seem to shove you into things. I’m sorry I got you involved again. Just…know I’m around.” He nodded and walked away. Laura shut the door.

 

“What did that mean?” she said sadly.

 

Walking back to his car, Smiles got angry with himself for how badly that came out. It had been so long that he had forgotten how to express his affection for people. If he ever knew at all.

 

*

Needless was running at top speed down the street. It seemed that wherever he went, though, his dead brother would be lurking in the corners, trying to kill him. He had managed to get out of the car after Edward had made his first attempt to stab him…In the face! Edward had tried to stab him in the face! It was a cruel joke. It was a horrible nightmare. It was Anticipation, and Vis’el had thrown it into his eyes. Needless knew it. He got out his phone. He was going to tell someone. It sounded crazy but he was always a cop, even when faced with a hallucinogenic danger. If he died, he couldn’t leave the mystery open. He had to tell someone.

 

His partner.

 

He almost ran right into his brother, who was screaming about how badly he wanted to kill him.

 

‘If I was a lesser man,’ Needless thought, ‘this could really get to me.’

 

            Stack picked up his ringing phone. Maybe she would call him first?

 

            It was Needless. He was out of breath.

 

            “The stuff’s tainted!” shouted Needless, “It makes your hallucinations kill you! Tell someone because I don’t know if I can…” the phone disconnected.

 

            Stack set down the phone and looked at the vial on the table. Oops, he thought.

 

            He looked up and there was Gina, looking just as pretty as the day she disappeared.

 

            “Loved one,” she said with a smile. Stack was so enamored by her vision that he almost forgot what Needless said. He stood up and walked back toward the fire escape.

 

            “You still don’t get it, do you?” said Gina, “I’m going to tell you but then I want you to get help right away because this is not the way to solve cases.” She smiled at him and said, “There is a chemist out there, probably at Goblin Hill Apartments, who was working with Kreslas. They invented a form of Anticipation that makes elves susceptible to hallucinations that can kill them. Like leaving the door unlocked and unprotected. If you die in your dreams… The thing slips in unnoticed. As a friend. A real thing that is floating around out there, getting into people’s minds. I don’t have an explanation for that, you know why?” Stack shook his head. “Because you don’t know why. I think we doubt that we’ll ever find out. We don’t understand goblins.”

 

            Stack stared at her for a moment and said, “So it only kills elves…”

 

            Gina smiled, “Of course, silly. That’s why I’m not trying to kill you. Kreslas was going to use that radio to start the riot after he killed off a lot of the user elves in the building. He didn’t kill that girl in the elevator. The Killer followed her there. Kreslas probably saw her being murdered by the unseen hand.”

 

            “How do we get it?” Stack still couldn’t believe he was talking to Gina but he continued.

           

“Needless can shoot him. He’s only half elf. Trust me. Like taking control of a dream. Call him.”

 

            Stack wasted no time. He jumped up and started dialing. Needless picked up, he was out of breath.

 

            “What!?” he yelled, “I’m trying to run here!”

 

            “Needless!” shouted Stack into the phone, “Go ahead and shoot him! He can’t get you because you’re half human. He couldn’t kill you if he tried and believe me, you’d be dead by now if he could!”

 

            “This sounds like hocus-pocus garbage to me.”

 

            “Then why does it sound like you’re running?”

 

            There was a pause, “It is pretty damn freaky. It’s my brother, Stack! He’s trying to kill me…” Needless gasped and sounded like he was on the run again, “He keeps popping up!”

 

            “Shoot him! He’s for real…but not…just do it!”

 

            Then there were gunshots Really Big Gunshots. The phone went dead.

 

            “Tell him good job,” said Gina, warmly. Stack took her in with his eyes.

 

            “I will,” he said, then: “Should I keep looking for you?”

 

            She laughed and got up, “I don’t know, Adam.” She opened the locked door and left. Because Stack really wanted her to.

 

*

            The next day, Stack was closing up the case file and the manhunt for Vi’sel was underway. Syv, the Siren, had given him up as her supplier during one of Needless’ ever gentle interrogations. The club owners were indicted for funding the manufacture of the tainted drug. Kresel was held responsible for the distribution of propaganda, but Jaime took some of that rap for hiding the radio in her place. The cops found an Anticipation lab at Goblin Hill, as the hallucination of Gina had promised. Stack still didn’t know how much of what she said had been him talking. He didn’t really care.

 

            It had been a stupid, dangerous thing to do. He could lose his badge if they found out. Again, he didn’t care a bit.         

 

            When Charlie was feeling better he and Laura convinced Rose to contact her estranged parents back east. They drove her to the bus station and saw her off. Laura did finally talk Charlie into a two week vacation in the Herdiger Islands. One of those trendy retreat islands off of Big City. Smiles drove them to the docks and waved goodbye, telling Charlie he’d have a lot of work for him when he got back.

 

            “Where are you off too?” asked Stack as he noticed Needless checking his hair in the police locker room mirror. Needless seemed embarrassed to be caught.

 

            “I…uh…kinda…just going out,” he smiled apologetically and made a hasty exit. He was glad to see that Stack had put the picture of Gina back on his desk. He’d hadn’t seen that out in years.

 

            Needless drove down a few blocks, then pulled up in front of the Big City Hospital, where a willowy figure looked to be waiting for the bus. He pulled up to the figure and made eye contact. Her eyes were black like marbles.

 

            “You…uh…going my way?” asked Needless with a smile. Sioux returned it and opened the door in that slow way she had.

 

            That smile just chilled him to the bone. And he loved it.

 

THE END