TEN
GABRIEL CALLED WHILE I sat in the office of the arson-investigation unit.
“I can’t really talk right now,” I said, smiling brightly across the desk at a middle-aged, balding man as he shuffled through some paperwork. “Detective Inspector Flores is explaining to Magoth and me the results of their investigation thus far.”
Gabriel swore. “What is he doing there?”
I pulled my hand back from where Magoth had been caressing it. “Oh, you know Magoth. Whither does he wander, and all that.”
“My wife must be speaking with her lover,” Magoth told the police inspector, who shot me a startled look.
“Erm . . . is she?” he said.
I smiled again, trying not to strangle Magoth on the spot. “Ignore him,” I told the inspector. “He found a few mushrooms in the park this morning and ate them. We’re h
