The Book of Joby (94 page)

“If we killed her, that would make him angry,” Tique muttered, seeming more oblivious than ever of the precipice before him.

“But angry at whom?” Lucifer asked, as if this were some mere classroom debate.

“Her killer, I suppose. The universe? Does it matter? He’ll be angry, won’t he?”

“Apparently you weren’t listening,” Lucifer said crossly. “I said the point of Joby’s anger must be hate. Who’s he going to
blame,
Tique, if we kill Laura now, so far away from Taubolt? Some drunk driver whom he’ll never see again? The
universe
? How’s he going to
act
on hate like that? Who’s he going to
punish
for it?” Lucifer no longer played at being calm. “I don’t need some act of
abstract
evil, Tique, directed at the
universe
! We don’t have
time
for that anymore! I need specific, concrete evil directed tangibly and intentionally at some very
real
target! I want
him
to hit the things that
he loves most,
and those are all in Taubolt, Tique, in case you haven’t been paying attention! To make that happen, the people he
blames
can’t be out here! They’ve got to be there in Taubolt, all around him every day, stirring the anger and building the hatred, month after month, until his loving little heart is swamped and capsizes in it!
Is that clear?
Drum your fingers on that table one more time, and you’ll be lucky if they’re all that I remove.”

Tique nodded, once, in silence finally.

Lucifer went back to studying the contents of Joby’s dossier again. A moment later, his calm seeming restored, he said, without looking up, “However
inconvenient they’ve made it for us, we are going to have to work inside Taubolt, within the limitations of corporeal incarnation. That means making every smallest resource left us, every move and moment,
count
. Thus, unlike many in this room, I’m not going into the field until I’ve
prepared,
and I know precisely what I’m doing there.”

A wave of palpable astonishment swept the room. Kallaystra barely managed not to gape. Had he just said
“I”
? Had he meant it figuratively, or . . .? It had been centuries since he’d condescended to fight beside any of them in the field at least for more than minutes at a time.

As if unaware of the sensation he’d just caused, Lucifer looked up and said, “Joby and his lady will undoubtedly be leaving Taubolt again soon for Ben’s funeral. Kallaystra, I will spare
you alone
to follow them and work your special magic. The trip should provide an excellent opportunity to remind Joby of just who and what he was before Taubolt caused him such forgetfulness. Please do not dilute Joby’s focus with any greater gestures though. From now on, I don’t want him to associate a single disappointment in his life with any place but Taubolt.

“While Kallaystra is gone,” he continued, “the rest of us will be here preparing for Joby’s return to Taubolt with meticulous attention to detail, for once. I am currently compiling a thorough list of who to target there, and how.”

Lucifer leaned forward, bracing both arms on the table, and swept the assembly with his disapproving gaze. “I want to make this very clear. I am not
angry
that, given thirty years in which to work, we are virtually starting up again from scratch four years before our deadline.

“I AM ENRAGED!”
he screamed, the very walls waffling with the sound. Kallaystra sat in shocked and fearful silence as did all the others. “I once generously assumed that there were some in Hell to whom I could still delegate with confidence, but you are
all
worthless incompetents! So, yes, I’m going
with
you this time to make sure that everyone does precisely
what
I need them to, precisely
as
I need it done! Anyone who falters will be terminated instantly and replaced with someone who can do the job.” He leaned even farther forward. “If that means killing every one of you and finishing this campaign alone, don’t imagine I will hesitate. The outcome of this wager is far too important to me to pussyfoot around with anymore.”

He turned to look directly at Kallaystra. “You may go now, dear. Good hunting.”

A single officer!
Agnes was incensed. Half the town burnt down, three murders, a maiming, an attempted rape, and countless acts of malicious vandalism in just two months, and Mansfield had sent just
one man
? This was not an answer, it was a slap!

The minute Karl had called to tell her Donaldson had been shown into the building Agnes had so generously donated, not rented, mind you,
donated,
for use as Taubolt’s new police station, she had donned a suitably no-nonsense outfit, and come down to see what kind of superhero they’d been sent. Because that’s what this officer had better be if he were going to deal with Taubolt’s escalating crime wave all alone.

She stood in the open doorway, knocking on the jamb and gazing at the jumble of boxes and half-assembled furniture already cluttering the otherwise deserted space.

“Be there in a minute!” called a harried voice from the first floor’s other room.

As it seemed he could not be bothered to come greet her, Agnes entered uninvited. She owned the building after all.

A moment later, a lanky, crew-cut young man came through the office’s rear door, still buttoning the short-sleeved shirt of his khaki uniform. “Can I help you?” he said, glancing from his busy fingers to smile at her.

For a moment Agnes simply stared. He looked like an ROTC recruit fresh out of college! Or even high school! Not only had the county sheriff sent them just one man, that man wasn’t even seasoned!

“My name is Agnes Hamilton,” she said.

“Troy Donaldson, ma’am. Very pleased to meet you. Sheriff Mansfield and Mr. Foster both told me to expect you. I appreciate your loaning us this building.”

“Us?” she said hopefully. “Have they sent more than one of you after all?”

“Oh. No ma’am.” He smiled. “I just meant the county.”

“Ah,” she said, disappointed. “Well, then, Officer Donaldson, if Mansfield mentioned me, then he’ll no doubt have explained that I’m the reason you are here.”

“Ma’am?” the young man said uncertainly.

“I’ve been requesting police protection here for years,” she said. “I wrote the letter that resulted in your appointment.”

“Well,” Donaldson said hesitantly, “I appreciate your vote of confidence, ma’am, but I’d been given the impression there’s a fairly broad base of interest in local law enforcement here.”

“Well, of course,” said Hamilton. “I would hardly have made any such request without knowing the community supported me. Where were you stationed before coming here?” she asked, braced to learn that this was the befuddled youth’s first posting.

“Up in Colby, ma’am,” he said.

“In command of what?” she pressed.

“Oh no, ma’am.” He smiled. “I was just a patrolman.”

As she’d feared. An untried rookie. “Well, I hope you brought your ticket book, young man,” she said, “because you’ll find no shortage of people in need of your citations here.” The look on Donaldson’s face was further confirmation that he was easily confused. “While I’m sure you’ve heard about our recent string of ghastly crimes, the most pressing problem day to day here is our unfettered herd of juvenile delinquents.”

“I saw that kind of thing in Colby too,” Donaldson admitted. “Rural kids with too much time and not enough to do. They can run kind of wild sometimes.”

“They congregate in front of public places every day here,” Hamilton said, relieved to see that Donaldson understood at least that much, “taking great delight in intimidating customers and performing countless acts of vandalism with no fear of punishment. As the owner of numerous retail facilities here, and a leading member of Taubolt’s Chamber of Commerce, I’ve come to request that you make bridling these noxious youngsters one of your first priorities. Particularly those with skateboards. As you will quickly see, they careen through crowds with no regard for public safety and do all manner of irreparable damage, both to Taubolt’s businesses and its buildings. I assume there are laws of some kind that can be applied to stop to this?”

“Some.” Donaldson nodded. “Regarding public nuisance and reckless endangerment. Loitering and vandalism, of course. Mostly misdemeanors, but that should be sufficient to curb the problem.”

“Excellent!” Hamilton said, smiling for the first time. “Well, I just wanted to say hi, and welcome you to Taubolt, Officer Donaldson.” She peered over his shoulder at the disorder behind him. “Is your ticket book in one of these boxes?”

“I expect it’s somewhere here,” said Donaldson, smiling cautiously.

“Then I’ll leave you to unpack,” Agnes said breezily, turning for the door.

“Well?” said Lucifer. “Have you found them all?”

“Nearly everyone on the list,” Basquel said, relieved to be far enough
outside of town again to disincarnate for a while. Lucifer had come with them, all right, but he’d set up his own heavily warded base camp in an isolated clearing far enough from Taubolt to avoid being trapped in flesh, as everybody else was. Privileges of power, Basquel sighed silently. “Joby and Laura aren’t here, of course. They’re at the funeral.”

“Obviously!” Lucifer snapped.

“But I’ve seen Laura’s child,” Basquel blurted out quickly. “Hamilton and Foster have practically married, which should be useful. Ferristaff is tangling with our environmentalist, as hoped, and in considerable conflict with the local populace over logging rights to some tract of land or other. Cotter’s gone, of course.
But we knew that,
” he said hurriedly as Lucifer’s frown returned. “There’s a lawman just arrived in town that does
not
seem to be on our list. I thought you’d want to know. From what I’ve seen so far, at least half the town’s residents are new, and when you add the tourists, the original population would seem outnumbered by at least three to one. All in all, the situation seems rife with potential.”

“Kallaystra’s done a decent job, it seems,” Lucifer mused. “Better late than never, I suppose.”

Resentful of Kallaystra’s smug superiority, even in absentia, Basquel added, “There are a couple hitches though.”

“Such as?” Lucifer said, instantly more alert.

“Well, I did encounter several wards during my travels around town. Obviously the work of our vile brethren’s bastard race. Unfortunately, being corporeal, I was unable to penetrate them.”

“So there are places we still can’t see,” said Lucifer. “I want such places watched, of course, ’round the clock, as soon as you find them, daily reports on who goes in or out. This damned incarnation spell is not angelic work. There’s someone very, very strong in there. If we can find out who, and take them out, perhaps we can be free of all this constraining flesh.”

As if
you
weren’t already,
thought Basquel sourly. “Which reminds me,” he said aloud. “I’ve found Molly Redstone too, and you’ll be glad to hear that she’s convened a very useful group of local gossips who meet weekly to compare their notes on
‘fairy hunting.’
They’re quite passionate about it from what I’ve gleaned.”

“You’re already infiltrating that group, I take it?” Lucifer said.

“They’re all women,” Basquel said glumly. “I incarnate as a man. The spell doesn’t ask me for a preference,” he added dryly.

“Then we’ll send Trephila in,” Lucifer said irritably. “In the meantime, I
want Laura’s brat observed closely for a week or two. He’s become important enough to Joby to do some real damage, I should think, but I want as much data as possible before deciding how best to twist his arm.” Lucifer looked morosely away, and said, “It’s a damn shame about Ben. Losing Lancelot deprives us of so many useful strategies. This,” he said, looking bleakly at Basquel again, “is what comes of blind potshots.”