The police station was bustling with activity. I wondered what had happened; had Victor and Andreaa found something? Had the murderer’s accomplice slipped up already? Had we applied enough pressure for him to snap and make a mistake? Petra was pacing nervously from her desk to the water cooler and back. When she noticed me she walked over to me. “What took you so long to get here, Tara?” she asked, a hint of panic in her voice.
I smiled. “I had a run in with that asshole reporter, James Xrobzix,” I told her.
“Xrobzix? Where? How long ago was this?”
I looked at her, puzzled.
“Victor and Andreaa found out that all the nails used on the six victims had the same serial number on them,” she said. “Yes, so?”
“Victor told us that shouldn’t happen; all nails in a set should have increasing serial codes. The only thing they should have in common is the initial ‘21,’ not the entire number, so these were a custom-made set. The person who ordered them specifically requested the nails to all have the same serial coding.”
“So the murderer had them custom-made for him? You do recall that we already caught him and fried him, right?” I asked.
Petra’s face turned whiter than a sheet. “It wasn’t the murderer who ordered the custom nails to be made. It was James Xrobzix.”
I felt like the world had just come to a sudden halt. He had known all along that we were bluffing, we had no suspect, we were watching no one … and he had known because he was the person who had helped the murderer.
But why had he come looking for me?
Fear gripped me as I looked at her. “Please, Petra, send some people over to my office and house. He said he had been there, and after I punched him he said I made a huge mistake.”
She called over to half a dozen officers and told them to go to my office and house straight away.
“I’m going with them,” I said, turning and heading for the door, but Petra grabbed me and spun me back round.
“No, you will stay right here. They know how to do their job, trust me on this.”
I was torn; I wanted to go home, I wanted to run home to see if Didymus, Fraza and Rikku were safe. I knew Kendra could look after herself; she was a daywalker vampire, and even though you might not be able to tell it from looking at her, she was quite the capable fighter.
Victor approached from the direction of the morgue, and when he reached us he placed his paw on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile.
“After Petra found out who had issued the nails, I took a good look at that newspaper that was dropped off at the killer’s apartment; you know, the one dated 19-01? The paper was the Herald Gazette, but there is no newspaper with that name in the city. It doesn’t exist.”
I looked at him. “You mean he was taunting me during the press conference?” I asked.
Petra shook her head. “It’s worse,” she said. She sat down at her desk and picked up a pen, put it in her mouth and started to chew on it. “We have reason to believe we were being led around this entire time … we even think that the man we executed for the six murders was just a puppet of James Xrobzix. We suspect he never killed any of the girls, just took the blame for it; that he spoke Xrobzix’s words as his own. Perhaps so that we wouldn’t stop looking into that investigation and focusing on this seventh girl, on his riddles and clues, to the exclusion of all else … allowing Xrobzix to go on planning his next murder. And we still don’t know who the victim is going to be.”
Had we made a mistake? All the evidence had led us to the man who had been sentenced to death.
“You were right, Tara,” said Victor, lighting his pipe. “This goddamn motherfucker was a genius. Maybe he came to you to taunt you, or maybe even to throw you off his track even more.”
I looked at the both of them and dropped down into the seat in front of Petra’s desk.
“Does he want to discredit the police force?” I wondered, gazing up at the ceiling. “He is a human; why would he do that? And how more riddles has he left?”
“The Chief thinks your plan did work,” said Petra. “Xrobzix seems to have noticed you were no longer jumping through his hoops, and decided to force you to take action. Your little encounter at the press conference did not have the effect he had hoped for.”
It made so much sense. He had dropped off the newspaper at the apartment. He was toying with us, pushing us around like pieces on a chess board.
The phone on Petra’s desk rang and she snatched it up. After listening for a moment, she hung up again, shaking her head. “No sign of him at Fraza’s place.”
“So now what do we do?” I asked her.
“I think the Chief will order a citywide search for sure now,” she replied. “Maybe even close off territories and sections after they have been cleared. Whatever he does, it will be big and people and creatures alike will hate it.”
I knew she was right. The lycans would resent it; they were heavily territorial and didn’t accept others – particularly humans – telling them what to do. Risi didn’t like to be told how to rule her territory. She had fought for her position of power, and the police force would be an attack at that position, at least in her eyes.
“We need to tell the Chief not to do that,” I said. “The lycans will most likely declare war on us; relations are already strained. And I doubt if the other races will be any more willing to cooperate.”  

Next Chapter: The seventh girls identity