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“He’s with the Art Crime Team,” Dreyfus explained as though in apology.

Jason said, “Not unless we’ve got a very good reason—like we’re brought in by local law enforcement. And even then, we mostly just advise and support as requested. We don’t—can’t—reopen cases based on—”

“You don’t have to reopen. You could look into Khan’s death in the larger context. That’s what I’m saying.” He turned away. “Fine. Ignore a suspicious death. Don’t say you weren’t warned.”

They watched him climb into a midnight-blue Volkswagen Beetle. The door of the Beetle was adorned with a painted magic wand. Splashes of pink, white, and blue flashed from the wand’s tip. Stars and sparkles decorated the hood and trunk of the car.

They watched the Beetle trundle down the alley and disappear around the corner.

Dreyfus met Jason’s eyes. “What do you think?”

“I think we go talk to Cheyenne PD.”

* * * * *

“Come on, seriously,” Dreyfus was saying as they walked through the entrance of Cheyenne Police Department.

Jason sighed. “Lighting, thread, mirrors. It’s actually a series of tricks strung together.”

“Hm.”

He glanced at her. “See? Now the trick is spoiled.”

“It’s not spoiled because I don’t believe in magic. I hate magic. The biggest bores at parties are the guys who want to show you magic tricks. Oh, and the guys who think they do great impersonations.”

“You hate magic because you’ve only been exposed to bad magic. A great magic show is…magical.”

“Oh brother.” They had reached the front desk. Dreyfus requested Detective Ward. A minute later they were shown into Ward’s office, where they were offered bad coffee and good information.

“You know, it’s funny,” Ward said. She was a petite blonde with a short wispy haircut and wide gray eyes. “I was thinking about that case when I was brushing my teeth this morning.” She smiled, offering a glimpse of her perfectly straight, white teeth. “Had the victim been anyone other than Mateo Santos, we’d have labeled it a suspicious death. But there was virtually no motive for getting Mateo out of the way, you’d have trouble finding a more beloved figure in this town.”

“Nobody is universally loved,” Jason said. Gee, he was starting to sound like Sam.

Sam.

He felt a pang, like someone twisting a knife in his guts. Tonight, he would talk to Sam, and he was not looking forward to it. Dreaded it, in fact.

“Ordinarily, I’d agree with you,” Ward said. “But Mateo was held in such esteem, such affection by so many people. Within the magic community and without. He was just a genuinely good person. I don’t know how else to describe it. I never heard him say a harsh or ugly word about anyone. He not only taught magic to disadvantaged children and at-risk teens for free, he shared all his knowledge with his peers—his competitors. If you know anything about the magic community, you know how rare that is, but I think he really cared about this next generation of magicians, sincerely wanted them to be great. Certainly, within the magic community, he was regarded as an icon.”

Law enforcement jaded you. That was a fact. You didn’t often hear cops extolling the virtues of other humans, so Jason gave weight to Ward’s assessment.

“What is it about his death that, in other circumstances, would have raised flags for you?” he asked.

“For starters, drinking poison backstage in an empty nightclub. It’s a weird way for anyone to kill himself; it’s especially weird for someone like Mateo. It was so dramatic, so theatrical. That really wasn’t his style. Not in his professional life and not in his personal life.”

“But he was a performer,” Jason observed. “And magic shows are, by definition, dramatic and theatrical.”

“Yes. Exactly. While on one hand suicide seemed out of character, it was not completely out of character.”

“The suicide took place at Top Hat White Rabbit?”

“Yes. He was supposed to be rehearsing his act for this Friday when the club officially opens.”

“How did he do it?” Dreyfus asked.

“He mixed the sedative Carfentanil into a glass of Licor 43. Carfentanil is a very powerful animal tranquilizer, and Mateo was in his late seventies, so death was pretty much instantaneous. Once he ingested it, there would have been no way to save him.”

Dreyfus said to Jason, “We just received a bulletin on the rising epidemic of Carfentanil overdoses. It’s increasingly being used to cut heroin, but it’s almost always deadly.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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