WhatYouWishFor

by Yygriega

When Goblins come to Chicago Murphy hires Harry for the first time.

Some people have a look about them that clearly denotes their character. Any body that sees them can just know what kind of person they are, at first glance, without any psychological or anthropological insight. I guess I'm not one of them, because at first glance most people think I'm a criminal. I passed a bunch of cops in uniform and some in suits, pushed along by a short balding man, belly threatening the buttons on his shirt, and slacks strained about the waist. He held the chain connecting my cuffs low so my weight was shifted awkwardly, most likely a tactic to keep me from starting anything. I was seated in a plain white room with a metal table, two chairs, but no big 2-way mirror. Instead there was a camera and intercom. The officer that walked me into the interrogation room had a badge clipped to his shirt that read 'Lieutenant Detective Carmichael'. Carmichael asked me some presumptuous questions, already certain of my guilt but not quite sure of my crime, when an annoyed female voice rang over the com.

"What exactly did you do, Mr. Dresden?"

"Nothing, I'm innocent!"

"Only the comatose can claim that, though even they can do something. I mean what exactly was going on when cops arrived?" I explained the situation truthfully, not even omitting the preternatural bit, fully expecting them to get mad, tell me I was lying, or crazy, but instead she listened and asked questions, as if she believed me, and thanked me when I was done.

"Ron, let him go, we got nothing to hold him for." The voice said in a tired tone.

"WHAT? He's lying."

"He may not have a great grasp on reality, but there was obviously a crime committed and he had nothing to do with it. So lets stop wasting our time interrogating an innocent man, and get back out there and catch the real criminal types." I was liking this other cop on the intercom, more and more.

"Karen, you cant seriously believe-"

"The guy looks like a grifter, was in the right place at the wrong time, but I'm telling you, I know he isn't our guy. This is Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, age 23, private investigator with Ragged Angel Investigations, moved to Chicago two years ago, has a 100% success rate on all his missing persons cases, so far, an just opened his own PI firm 2 days ago..." I got the feeling she deliberately made that sound impressive. The honest truth was that I had gotten only 3 missing persons cases and with a simple tracking spell found all three same day. "Mother died in childbirth, father died of aneurism when he was 6. Has ben arrested for petty theft 3 times, and loitering once as a juvenile, not an uncommon rap sheet for orphans… and suspected of arson, but never charged on 4 separate occasions as a juvenile, 2 as an adult…" I heard the violent flipping of paper over the intercom, like she was flipping through a notepad but angry. "Stole a carriage, but charges were dropped." She read in a begrudgingly-trying-not-to-sound-amused tone. "And accused of kidnapping, but those charges were dropped when the accusers were revealed to have filed a false report. They were just negligent parents who wanted to save face by throwing his ass in the fire instead. Oh by the way, I did that background check you should have asked for. I figured you were getting around to it." She finished her report.

Now I knew why the voice was so exasperated. She sounded young but confident, but she had to deal with the incompetence of her superiors and seemed to also be upset that her time was being wasted babysitting and chasing bad leads. At least it wasn't me she was mad at. Yep, I definitely liked her. Which is weird because she's an authority figure. I don't make a habit of respecting, let alone liking, authority figures.

"Take his contact information, wait, I already have it here, and let him go, Ron. Mr. Dresden-"

"YOU can call me Harry." I said to the camera, flashing my best smile. There was a long pause, a long tired sigh, and then she spoke again.

"-Mr. Dresden, I might have more questions for you later, so please stay in town, and answer your phone. In the mean time, you are free to go." I tried to catch a glimpse of the source of the voice as I was walked, sans cuffs, to a desk where I collected my effects; my blasting rod, shield bracelet, force ring, staff, monocle, top hat, and leather duster with keys and chalk still in the pockets, then I got a cop car to give me a ride home.

I immediately made way to my 'lab-ora-tory', and put the top hat and monocle on the worktable. "So how did it go?" a tired male voice asked from somewhere in the lab. I looked back at a shelf on my wall that had a skull flanked by romance paperbacks and candles and rolled my eyes at the skull. The flame colored lights in the eye sockets rolled in response then the skull said "that bad huh?"

"The enchantment on the hat was pretty good, it was the monocle that was unreliable."

"Maybe it's a user error." The Skull suggested quietly as he flipped a romance novel open and began to read. I grumbled a few things about where he could stick his book and user error then looked over the formulae I had scribbled in a notebook. I was chasing a real dapper gentleman who happened to be a goblin; a supernatural hunter from the wild side of fairy. The Monocle allowed me to see through his glamour and the top hat was supposed to skitter along the ground like Johnny Depp's bit in 'Benny and June' but without me kicking it, in pursuit of it's owner, the dapper goblin. Well, the thing had an inconsistent speed so I did kick it from time to time. People must have pegged me for a street performer as I passed.

The hat led me in a somewhat evasive pattern until it came to the seedier neighborhood where lawns were littered with condemned and foreclosed signs, and windows were barred and boarded up, and Cops tend not to venture into the area unless responding with backup to a call. The hat stopped at a foreclosed home inside which I investigated to find it was where the goblin was squatting, but the goblin wasn't there at the moment. Or so I thought. I held the monocle to my eye and looked around waiting for the damn hat to lead me somewhere else that he lingered, but it just shuffled around in one spot. Then it occurred to me that the goblin was either above or below the place that the hat stopped. That realization came a bit late. I looked up and the goblin dropped onto me, throwing powerful blows, making me release my staff so I could block most of the hits. I rolled onto him, but he got his feet between us and kicked me across the room and out a particleboard window. Ouch.

He was on me before I could get the world to stop spinning, and gave me a couple of rib cracking hits, then the hat came down on his head, and slipped over his eyes. I took the blasting rod out of my coat, aimed it center mass, and channeled the pain and anger I felt at the moment into sheer kinetic force. "Forzare!" the goblin got the hat off his eyes in time to see himself be thrown hard into the brick exterior wall of the house, clipping his side on the protruding edge of the windowsill that I had just been thrown through. I readied my shield and the next spell when the sound of police sirens wafted to my ears, and distracted me just long enough for the goblin to dash away. The hat followed 3 feet behind but loosing momentum, and I grabbed my staff and took up chase. I guess without seeing the goblin, a man chasing a top hat away from the police may appear suspect, so detective Carmichael took me in for questioning.

Now that the hat had seen a sunrise it was just a hat again, and the monocle that barely let me see the asymmetrical visage of the goblin underneath the dapper gent disguise was once again just a bit of glass in a silver circular frame, on a thin silver chain ending at a broach. I sighed and left the now useless items on the worktable while I climbed out of the lab to my kitchen. I opened a can of cat food and left it on a plate on my kitchen floor and put a fresh bowl of milk beside it. The litter box didn't seem to need changing, and the kitten it belonged to was hiding somewhere dark and high up I figured. With nothing else demanding my attention I headed for my office to get some work done. No sooner than I entered the small office had the phone rang. I rushed to answer and a sultry voice answered back.

"Hary Dresden, how may I help you?"

"Hello, my name is Suzan Rodriguez, of the Arcane. I was calling because I saw your ad in the yellow pages and just had to interview Chicago's only publicly practicing wizard. When would you be free to give me the exclusive?" she assumed the sale like a champ. Leaving no room for me to say no.

"no." I was sure this was another jab at me. The arcane was known for articles on Bigfoot sightings and Elvis abductions. If I were in one of their articles I'd never be respected as a legitimate investigator. But if I really cared so much, I'd change my business name. With Bob's advice I went with a gimmick of sorts, I called myself wizard instead of investigator.

"I just have a few questions. How long have you been a wizard?"

"Since birth" I answered on pure reflex.

"So can anyone be a wizard or is it genetic?"

"Genetic mostly." Damn it mouth!

"What is a wizard?"

"Someone who does magic." I answered in my best testy tone.

"Like a magician, sorcerer, witch, warlock?"

"Magicians, illusionists, mentalists- those are all clever mortals who can make it look like they do magic, Sorcerers do magic but aren't too strong, they have to set a lot of stuff up to accomplish anything. Witches are anyone who uses magic to hurt people. They're usually women, but not exclusively, and warlocks are another word for people like that, usually males but not exclusively. Wizards are a league of their own; we have the ability to sling magic around without too much preparation, we don't use our powers to harm innocents, we typically have an expertise but can do it all where as sorcerers just have a narrow field that they're good at."

"Interesting. So what are spells, curses, potions, and enchantments?" she asked. I didn't mind questions when they were sincere. I didn't exactly want to be in her paper but I'd answer her questions while they were purely curious.

"Spells and curses are the same thing. We just call it a curse when you don't like the outcome. Like a spell to grow hair is cool but to loose hair is a curse. Potions are concoctions meant to serve a purpose when consumed but for a short time. It's hard to make because its ingredients cover every sense like taste, sound, touch, smell, spirit, and sight. Enchantments are like spells put on an object so even mortals can use it for whatever the enchantment was tasked. But spells and enchantments, and curses can be wiped out by the sunrise or cutting it off from the energy source, the spell caster. "

"Great, great! Why the sunrise?"

"The world is continuously going through preternatural cycles. Light and dark cycle for instance. Magic is stronger at night. All magic. Not really sure why, but I do know that the sunrise represents renewal of energies, therefore anything exposed to the sunrise kind of gets a factory reset. Then there is also the summer and winter cycle. Spring and summer the power goes to the Seelie court and autumn and winter, power shifts to the Unseelie court. That switch of power happens around Halloween and the middle of March, which is why you might notice March and October get kind of hectic in the occult circles."

"Excellent. Thank you! So tell me about yourself. Why are you a private investigator? How did you learn to use your powers? Are there any life experiences that particularly molded you? If wizards are real, what else is real?" whoa, she was getting really excited. I didn't really want to talk about myself.

"Look, I'm busy. Can we do this another time?"

"Sure, just call the arcane and ask for Susan Rodriguez, and we can have another phone interview… or meet in person. I'd really like to see you, Harry." Well that kind of sounded flirtatious. My last relationship of any degree was my first too. I was 16- wow 7 years ago. Wow, 7 years without sex. For a young adult male, that sounded kind of depressing. Something about Suzan's voice made me want to see her too. And the way she said 'or meet in person' was like an unspoken promise that I would like what I saw. I fumbled for a positive answer, which she seemed to both expect but appreciate then she saved me from my nervous stammering by saying, "thanks again, Harry. I'll look forward to your call." Then she hung up. I held the phone to my ear until the empty line tone blared and then hung my end up.

I had to stand up and shake off the haze of muddled thoughts. I had a goblin that had blown into town, beating a man on the street nearly to death, then a drycleaner worker, and then he killed a gang member in his own home. That was why Carmichael was in the neighborhood. He was looking for the murderer and as that voice said, I was in the right place at the wrong time. Ah, the voice that saved me from the clink. Karen. No doubt a rookie detective. She knew my life and was a good, practical cop, who probably took her job more seriously than her coworkers. I wanted a face to the name, voice, and halo. With my luck, the police'd pick me up again soon, maybe next time. Lastly, the most distracting, was the renewed yearning in my cliché that this Suzan Rodriguez had incited. I needed to get laid.

I gathered my thoughts and began plotting my next move when I heard a rap at my door and a little blond let herself in. You know that feeling you get in your chest when you see a brand new puppy or kitten, still fuzzy and clumsy, and you feel certain if you don't scream or squee, or berate a parent into getting it for you, you'll explode? That's how I felt when I saw this woman. She was 5 nothing, 100 lbs if she thought heavy thoughts, with big, round eyes, the color of 'it's a boy' announcements, which went along with her soft pink lips that said 'it's a girl' in context. Her hair was just like Shirley Temple's; pale gold, curly, and just past shoulder length. Then there were the freckles! A light dusting of freckles graced her cheeks, cheekbones and cute little turned up nose. She wore a practical thin line of brown eyeliner and clear Chap Stick as makeup, which just went to show her cuteness was genetic. Her outfit consisted of form fitting blue jeans, black velvety Etnies skater shoes, with the logo and shoelaces in white, and a tight gray tank top with a cartoon rendering of C3PO and R2D2 with a speech bubble by C3PO saying 'I am C3PO human/cyborg relations. I am fluent in over 6 million forms of communication, excluding idiot.' Over that she wore a thin flannel shirt, white with pink blue yellow and green plaid print, the kind of shades and pattern they only make kids clothes out of.

My eyes began to water, my throat constricted, if I tried to speak at that moment it would have only been audible to dogs, so I swallowed audibly and blinked. "Hello, Mr. Dresden." She spoke and the squee left me. Her voice was the same annoyed voice from the interrogation room.

"Sweet angel of mercy! You've come to my office!" I got on my knees and clasped my hands together in a prayer position.

"Jeez, you're a character." She shook her head trying to conceal her amusement at my antics.

"Can I offer you a drink? Coke, water, coffee?" I moved to the cooler box I keep in my office as a footrest. It also holds coke and bottled water.

"Sure, water please." I handed her a water then popped open a coke for myself and offered the can out to clink with her bottle. She obliged, still struggling to keep a straight face.

"So what can I do for you, Karen?" I asked

"Sergeant Murphy." She corrected me… wait… That was the name of the cop that helped me take down a troll last year! She was a tiny blond too. She looked kind of stocky but duh she had a bulletproof vest on didn't she. I wouldn't have noticed the modest but perky round breasts, tiny waist, and wide round hips… ahem. And it was dark, so I didn't really get enough of a look at her face. This was she. One and the same! "This case, actually. Its got some weird on it and well, you got the weirdness too, so maybe this is a problem only you can solve."

She dug into the back pocket of her jeans, leaning forward just enough for her chest to form a straight line of cleavage and her flannel shirt opened just enough for me to see her bra strap which was light flirty pink and her shoulder had more freckles. This may be the sudden realization that I'd been celibate for a long time talking, but I was overcome with the perverse urge to gnaw on that shoulder or have a game of finding what other hidden places had freckles. Oh, her collarbones! I see some on her collarbones! I win! I tore my gaze from her skin and took a long pull of my coke, propping my feet onto the cooler box.

She produced a folded packet of papers, photocopies of the case file. She opened it and presented the papers to me and explained as I picked them up. "So not really a ton to go on, I was actually at the scene of the first assault when it happened. This guy with a welsh accent, in a nice suit, and honestly the hottest beard I've ever seen, comes up and talks to me, then some jerk stepped in and started mouthing off. This bearded guy handled the jerk pretty well, polite, so the jerk goes off making an ass of himself elsewhere. Later that night I get a call to see if I want to take an assault case, turns out to be the drunk ass hole from the bar. I agreed."

"There was no evidence on the scene or on his body. There were cuts on his privates and down his legs that were conducive with broken glass but there was no glass, and he had drag burns all over. I go to interview him once he gets out of traction, and the guy starts laughing." I looked at the photos and grimace. It was ugly stuff, but nothing really life threatening.

"Next victim, a woman at the drycleaner near the precinct building. She was severely beaten with a classy wooden chessboard, and the suspect claims a duduri made him do it. He dies in a cell the same exact way but no chessboard on the scene. Then last night, we get a call that a tall Scotland Yard type is prowling around, and another close by that a well known gangster died and Carmichael just put the two together."

I nodded as I flipped through the pictures and meticulous concise notes that were all dated and initialed KM. I looked at sergeant Murphy and nodded again. "I'll do it but I have a regular fee. $50 an hour plus expenses. Its customary that I receive a retainer. I'll write up an expense report."

"How much of a retainer?"

"500?" I asked. She nodded and put 3 crisp 100-dollar bills and the rest in wrinkled 20s on the desk, then brushed the hair out of her face and looked around the office.

"I looked into what a duduri was… a grotesque Korean goblin…" she spoke cautiously.

"They're a type of goblin that likes the Asian continent and islands, yeah." I read the official case files while she produced her notepad.

"Marcus wright- the first victim- said he would drag his nuts down a mile of broken glass to have a night with some woman… he was found a mile from the bar, and I remember a girl way out his league was with him for a lot of the night… Janet Dougherty, the second victim was a chess master. Competitions. Went national a few years back. Her husband Sam Dougherty was the one who killed her then died in the cell. He swore he saw a duduri and wished to beat his wife at chess. Must have made another wish while he was in his cell. Died the exact same way." Karen listed off from her notebook. "This gangster died from his brain being pushed out his eyes and ears in favor of thousands of dollars to then begin pouring out. Bet he wished he had money pouring out his ears. I take it goblins don't care bout figures of speech."

"Wow, so what you want to hire me for? It seems like you got it figured out." I didn't have to do much of any legwork; that was a pretty good idea of what happened. It was weird that a straight cop would examine that angle, but I'd seen this one tangle with a troll and just accept it at that, no excuses, no denial. I had a feeling that the goblin I was chasing around town was the same fellow twisting wishes into death wishes.

"Well I can't arrest a guy for being a goblin. Cant arrest a guy for granting wishes. Maybe you can get me the proof I need to make an arrest, or maybe you can help me get rid of the problem. I don't exactly want this thing in the prison system." Murphy said grimly. I imagined prisoners gaining super powers, staging miraculous escapes, dying from horrible ironic deaths, and shuddered. I offered her my hand and we shook on it, then I packed up my coat and the case files, walked her to the door, opening it for her, with a chivalrous half bow, then locked up. My legs were longer so I caught up to her on the way to the elevator, and pressed the button down, and let her enter the elevator first, then exit first. She seemed to be getting upset. Not really understanding why, I opened the door leaving the building too, but she stopped and gestured for me to go first. This did not compute.

"You open another door for me, I will slam your head in it." She scowled quite well despite her cuteness. I dropped my eyes from hers and smiled.

"Fair enough." Then I walked through and propped it open with my foot. She sighed tiredly then got on a Harley Davidson motorcycle parked beside my blue Volkswagen beetle. She didn't pull out right away. She dawned a leather padded jacket like the kind people who like to keep their skin wear, and black motorcycle helmet, and made a gallant 'ladies first' gesture to me. I smiled like a maniac and took my leave.

Once again, I retreated directly to my lab under my already subterranean apartment. As I opened my front door, a kitten tried to commit suicide by giant cowboy boot, but I managed to not step on him last second. I bent down and ruffled the little guy's fur, careful not to touch his notched ear, then moved for my lab. I muttered the magic words and a candelabrum on my worktable and some candles on the shelves came to life.

"Back so soon?" Bob asked.

"Yeah, now someone's paying me to catch the goblin, and she's cute. Sergeant Karen Murphy, Chicago PD." I did a quick jig then slid to my stool and plopped down. "I want to do an invisibility potion so I might sneak up on this goblin and or evade the cops, and a hair growth potion to grow a beard."

"Interesting combination. Why grow a beard if you'll just be invisible?"

"People hear wizard and think epic beard. It'll be good for my cred." I turned on the burners and Bob walked me through the potions and we chatted it up about the case.

"So this cop chick, what'd she look like?"

"Adorable! Like Shirley temple grew up and became a hard nose cop."

"Sure, sure, but I mean her measurements man, her measurements!"

"NO BOB"

"Come on, Harry, I don't get out much and the heroin of every romance novel are always the same. How tall was she?"

"Short. Petite." I lowered the heat on the potions. "Itty bitty."

"And her tits?"

"BOB!"

"Come on, come on. Give me the juicy details." After contemplating it a bit I shrugged.

"They were small, but looked kind of normal on her. Round…"

"See that? Round is a primitive observation. Back when people wore loincloths and carried clubs, men looked for the round girls because they were more fertile. How about her ass?"

"Round too. And plenty of it. Same with hips."

Bob chortled excitedly. "Yes! Sounds like a baby maker all right." I grimaced.

"She's so tiny, it would threaten the laws of mass displacement to put another person inside of her." I said as I poured my energy into the completed potions and removed them from the heat. I left them alone to cool. "And I got a call from a reporter. She wants to meet with me to do an interview. Susan Rodriguez."

"Sounds sexy. And she's interested in you?"

"In me being a wizard, yeah."

Bob chortled happily. "Sergeant Karen Murphy was her name, yeah? Irish? Catholic? Those are the wild ones, Harry. I say hurry up and put a baby in her. Once she's trapped you'll be set for life! Well her life any way. Those Catholics are creative in the sack."

"Bob." I paused thoughtfully. "Shut up. I'm not trying to put a baby in anybody!" Once complete, I poured the concoctions into sports bottles and set them on a desk by my table, and went to bed. I could hear Bob's excited chortling all the way to my room so I shut the door. I would wait till nightfall to try the hat trick again.

I woke up too sore to move so I just remained still for a while, collecting my thoughts, and mentally preparing for the spell I'd have to cast on the hat. Maybe there was a way to make it a little faster… did the hat try to save me when the goblin was attacking? No, even if the hat were alive it wouldn't protect the jerk that was kicking it all over town. I stretched out like a cat and rolled out of bed to shuffle into the lab where I was suddenly assaulted by the top hat. It bolted out of the trap door as I opened it, then started bashing it's self against the door into my apartment. It came to me, did a lap around me and then jumped a few times then returned to the door hopping about like an excited pup that heard the word walkies. I grumbled like the owner of said excited pup and pulled my black canvas duster and cowboy boots on, in preparation of following this hat wherever it was taking me.

Within seconds my windows shattered inward, then a powerful wind began tearing into my apartment, whipping anything less than 30 lbs into a vicious twister. I could vaguely make out a woman's cackling amongst the clangor of my living room tearing itself apart. I spotted my kitten, Mister, cowering under the couch, so I grabbed him, tucking him into my duster's spacious pocket and the top hat that clung to the floor by my front door despite the torrents. I grabbed my wizard staff and escaped my own apartment.

At the top of my stairs stood a woman with a strong jaw, thick lips and pointed nose. Her eyes were a pale blue that almost looked silver, and her hair was on that cusp between being considered blond or brown. It fell like a straight thick curtain over her shoulders. Even with such bold, savage, Germanic features, she maintained a level of femininity. Her limbs were long and slender, her chest wasn't entirely flat, and her slight curves were rounded rather than sharp and gaunt. But over this was a glamor, I could sense it on an instinctual level. I wished I had the monocle for a moment then suddenly it was on my face. I caught a glimse of her true face through it before I dropped the monocle off my face, startled by the sudden appearance. Her nose had a crooked bridge under the glamor, as if it had been broken multiple times and never set. One eye was larger than the other, and her ears were long and pointed but one folded over to the side. Her teeth showed signs of crowding but had space between a few of them as if she got tired of the crowding and just yanked every other tooth out. And her canines were tapered into points but not quite long enough to be called fangs.

I had to get past the goblin woman! I collected my will and aimed carefully, releasing the energy as a ball of force into her chest. "Forzare!" she flew back across the street to slam her back against the building that stood there with a crunch and a slap. I readied my shield as I fished out the keys to my beetle from my pockets and tossed the cat unceremoniously into the passenger seat while I ducked into my car. The engine took some coaxing but started in time, so I could pull out of my gravel parking lot and anywhere the hell away from the goblin girl. The hat returned to playing hat so I thought about how I'd be the safest and without realizing I had come to any conclusion, I found myself parking at Chicago PD.

I brought the hat with me as I entered the waiting area at the main entrance. It was linoleum tile, stark white, and the metal desk with a wooden top that stood in front of the door was cluttered with clipboards for different forms, 2 phones, and a basket that said mail, in ink on paper and taped to said basket. The metal and plastic chairs were accented with an occasional end table covered with magazines, and a single wicker basket full of toys was tucked under one of them. There was a potted tree by the desk and another in the corner by the restroom and drinking fountain, and yet another by the stairs and elevator. All this was sad and screamed government building but was set off by a black rectangle of carpet by the door and a dark blue rectangle of carpet by the chairs, for the kids to play on, I was sure. A wall was decorated by a map of Chicago, broken up by highlighter marks into precinct, and a stained wooden board covered with pictures of cops; the chain of command, and one picture frame at the bottom had a plaque that, instead of having a title and name, just said Cop of the month. To no surprise, I saw Sergeant Detective Karen Murphy framed there. I smirked at the picture and pointed at it as I asked the man at the front desk if she was there.

The man at the desk was a rookie cop, marked by the thinness of youth, and the stern look of a cop who plays strictly by the book. He gave me the cop eye and passed me a clipboard. Catching the hint, I filled it out, looking out the glass every now and again, to make sure no goblins were watching, and turned the completed form to the cop, officer… Murphy. I read his nametag then looked at his features, he had a manly-bridged nose, but it was a bit pug-ish, and upon further inspection, yes there were freckles. His eyes were baby boy blue, though bloodshot from tiredness, and his jaw was blockier, manlier, but the chin was the same. His hair was light brown but I was certain when he was a kid it was blond, and now that I was really paying attention, there were subtle similarities in the way they both sat that were both very cop-like but more instinctive from the other cops.

He looked over the forms and called some 3 digit extension. It rang once, then he half whispered, "Karen, there's a guy here to see you." I could almost hear her ask who. "Harry Dresden." I could tell she let out a tired sound and after a pause told him to let me up. He grumbled an affirmative then hung up the phone. He then pulled out a laminated visitor badge, penned my name onto it in dry erase ink, and then passed it to me. "Keep it displayed below your face, but above your belt at all times." I took the badge and fought the urge to clip it to my crotch and stuck it pointedly onto my breast pocket and headed up the stairs.

I got to the space where a bunch of old crummy wood desks were crammed in together, and spotted Murphy, the only blond, only female, and only short person in the space, immediately. She was in a dark blue pantsuit with pastel yellow blouse that had no sleeves or buttons but had a collar. The suit jacket was draped over the back of the chair and she wore a brown leather shoulder rig with a gun, comedicly large for her spare frame, tucked into the holster. Her hair was in a tight bun, low on her neck, no doubt a habitual hairstyle from when she was a uniform cop. I navigated the tight labyrinth of desks to sit at a chair she set out for me. A wiggling in my duster startled me reminding me there was something living in my coat, so I fished the kitten out of my pocket and set him onto Murphy's desk by the top hat.

"So what you got?" Murphy asked without looking at me, as she was sifting through case notes and crime scene photos. She caught the movement of gray fur in the corner of her eye and snapped her head around, but her body away from it.

"A cat." I answered.

"Why is there an animal on my desk?"

"You don't like cats, sergeant?"

"Animals. Since most of them can and will eat me without a second thought, I prefer not to give them the opportunity." She eyed the kitten trying not to think it's cute but a sweet smile creeped over her face and she couldn't keep from petting the little fur ball.

"A goblin attacked me at my home a few minutes ago. I grabbed my cat and dashed. Ended up here." I shrugged and looked around. In the far corner I spotted a coffee station, "can I get some coffee?"

"Let me clean off my desk and we'll go somewhere and grab better coffee to talk about goblins." She spoke low as she bustled about organizing and securing the papers and photos. She smiled again at Mister as she pulled some papers out from under him and once her desk was clean and organized again, she locked the files into the built in cabinet under her desk. She escorted me, kitten tucked in her arm, to the desk where her brother sat waiting. She tore the badge off me and tossed it to him, "I'm out grabbing coffee. I'll be a few. Want anything?"

"Is this the tall dark and handsome you mentioned?" he asked skeptically.

"Hell, no, this is a private investigator, working on a case." She replied. This seemed to calm the brother down. I was mildly insulted.

"Where you going?" he asked.

"Pie place."

"Pecan pie and a coffee, please?" he asked politely. He seemed to really respect his sister.

"Yes sir." She replied with a wink, and then scowled as I opened the door for her again. The top hat quivered in my grip and leaped out of my hands, dashing for the front entrance. I shut the door with a slam so it skittered back and forth, doing a little jig by the door. "That's not good."

"How the hell, did it do that?" Murphy asked.

"It freaks out when a goblin is near by." I explained. "The spell was a simple tracking spell where it was supposed to be attracted to its owner like magnets, but I must have messed it up somehow."

Brother Murphy stood up behind his desk to see the hat trying to squeeze out the door I had shut on it before asking, "what are you guys doing?"

"There might be someone out there…" Karen bent down and cautiously retrieved the hat. It jerked twice then settled in her arms. At that moment, a dapper gent pulled the door from my grip and stepped into the precinct. He wore black leather dress shoes, gray slacks, with a crease ironed perfectly centered into them, a white dress shirt, untucked but crisp, and a gray blazer, accented with a black silk pocket square. His hair and eyes were dark and chromatophoric like oil, but it contrasted his pale perfect, Germanic features perfectly. His thick, full black beard was closely cut to his face, but too long to be stubble, and patterned into side burns that made a sharp point toward his nose, a waxed mustache, and goatee. A look that went with say, a top hat, most amicably. If it weren't for the fact that I knew it was glamour, I'd be jealous. He was just shy of 6 feet, making him tall by Murphy's standards, yes he was dark, but underneath the handsome illusion, he was the dapper gent I had been chasing all night last night. "Karl thanks for stopping by. Sorry its for official business." Murphy said as he walked up to her and took back his hat. It behaved in his hands.

"This is Karlen Jansson, he was at the bar during the first attack." She introduced us. "Karl, this is-"

"Harry Dresden, the wizard." He spoke, and it was the most soothing, baritone, I've ever heard. His voice made Morgan Freeman and James Earl Jones sound like Gilbert Godfrey. I tried not to curl up for bed at the sound of his voice.

"It's him!" I said to Murphy, wide eyed and ready to defend myself if he attacked. He laughed. Oh his laugh was evil. Murphy was standing, flirtatiously close to him, but took a cop distance from him at my words, then a creeped out distance at his laugh.

"Go, ahead wizard, make a wish." He said in a cocky tone. "It won't come true, she isn't here." He stroked the top hat like a pet. I realized, that I had wished for the monocle out lout when it appeared earlier that night, and the first victim was with a woman when he died. Yes, tall dark and dry-cleaned was there at all the crime scenes but it didn't automatically make him the culprit. The woman who blew up my apartment found me at my home. It was possible that she followed me when she was already following Karl.

"That goblin woman was the one hurting those people… because she overheard their wishes and couldn't help herself. But she was following you." I spoke low and slow then looked out the window when he nodded and saw her across the street, in the most combative, angry stance such a thin woman could convey. She might have seen Karl and Murphy standing closely just a moment before and gotten jealous. He followed my eyes with his and sighed.

"Karen, stay inside, please. Mister Dresden, I may need your assistance, in confronting her." Karl said in his amazing voice. I felt inclined to agree. We both left the building somber faced, and stopped by my car to take out my staff and put my cat somewhere out of the fight. Then we circled around to stand in the middle of the road about 13 paces away from the goblin woman who also walked into the street. "Lira, you must stop this pursuit. Your father would not approve." He called to her.

She snarled then straightened her back. "I am more than just my father's daughter. I am a beauty, sought by many. Why then must the men I love always refuse me?"

"Lirazel, dear child, you only love me because I refuse you." He got into a fighting stance, which I tried to mimic, and then produced a knife from a sheath on his calf under the slacks. She dashed forward with an angry scream and clawed the air where she thought Karl stood. In that space, smoke in his shape was swatted and dissipated, before he came out of his veil behind her and kicked her onto her face five feet behind his smoke double. I whirled around and blasted her with sheer force, and she bounced across the asphalt 10 more feet. She charged me lightning quick, too quick to ready another spell, so I swung my staff like a bat, and swatted her aside to where Karl slashed at her with his blade. She rolled to her hands and feet and threw herself out of his blade's way, and to her feet before advancing on him. She liked to kick, and he liked his knife, but the two were so perfectly even matched that no one was taking the lead. I couldn't intervene with Magic without harming Karl, which wasn't really a concern to me but it was polite under the circumstances to avoid killing him. I ran into the fray, swinging my staff at her, then getting kicked out of the fight by a long thin, horse strong leg. I collected my breath, noticing my little intervention may not have done much, but did distract her long enough for him to cut her other leg across the top thigh. She spun kicked him, which he rolled with, then regained her footing to deliver another judo move. His roll brought him out of foot reach, and he took a fraction of a second to plan his next strike.

"Forzare!" I blasted her away from him again, and this time she rolled, came to her feet, and leaped ten feet into the air in a gymnastic looking summersault toward me. In the dark, with the lights too blinding a contrast, I couldn't keep my eyes on her. I prepared my shield and ducked into a crouch. "defendarius" I spoke and a silent tingle came over me. She landed, inches over me, feet first, causing blue ripples to alight over my half dome shield and I pushed out with my shield causing her to fall backward off of it into another practiced roll straight into Karl's attack. He cut into her back with the knife, and then recoiled from the slash into a punch with the knife in hand to her nose.

He returned the knife to it's sheath and pinned Lirazel under his weight with her legs under his, and hands under his he muttered something and a rift appeared in a shadow. Out of this rift, came a man in a grey suit with black pinstripes, black silk blouse, and bowler hat. He had a cane in hand, and fancy shoes like Karl's. He removed his hat to reveal long blond hair, a nose that looked broken several times and set back in a still roguishly handsome shape, and a face that managed to be strong and manly but still beautiful. This gent was about as tall as me but graceful about it, moving with the liquid elegance of a predator. He stood by the other goblins and they both rose to just come back down to the ground in groveling fashion. He looked from them and tisked as he rested his oil black eyes on me.

The distance was closed in seconds before I was face to face with this man. "Wizard, I must apologize for my daughter's actions. It was not an honorable hunt. As retribution, she will stay and repent her crimes to mortal authorities until such a time as she is released, and will not use her power to grant wishes or attempt to flee justice, until that time." To his words she gasped and a light extracted it's self from her, and became a crystal the size and shape of a ben wa ball. Her glamor was gone, so her features were no longer as alluring despite not changing, and not reverting to her goblin face. The new guy went back to his shadow and waited as I escorted Lira back to the police station.

Karl explained to me that he saw Murphy when she had defeated another lesser goblin as a uniform cop once, and since then he had wanted to become closer to her. Unfortunately he was made guard for the lady Lira and couldn't pursue Murphy until recently. When he had the chance, he apologized, kissed Murphy's hand and bid her good bye then returned to the big guy at the rift and passed through to wherever it led. No doubt Goblin county in Fairy; a big part of the world between called the Nevernever. After her confession, Lira was in the process of being booked while I explained what Karl told me to Murphy, I took a look at the woman's record. Her prints actually pulled up a profile; Lira Hazel Silures, 44, daughter of Jareth Silures. Oh, the father, Karl mentioned. What were the chances that tall guy with long hair was old man Jareth? She was royalty from Kufstein Austria, so diplomatic immunity. Aggravated assault charges all over but none served. Murphy was pissed, but let the woman go.

I took my kitten home, and began the arduous task of cleaning up the disaster area when I decided to call up the arcane and arrange that meeting with Susan. She agreed to meet me at McAnally's pub that evening. I somewhat managed to make the place presentable and slipped into the lab to debrief Bob on the case. I grabbed the bottle off the table, and looked at it for a while thinking about how cute Sergeant Murphy was and how sexy that damn goblin's beard was. I downed the contents of the bottle and waited, rubbing my face. Soon I began to tingle where I touched my face and excitement grew. I looked at the time, saw I had a couple hours to rest up so I set my mickey mouse alarm clock and went to bed.

My alarm clock sounded so I dragged myself up, turned it off, and hopped into the shower. I rubbed my face for a while before I realized it didn't feel any different. I got out of the shower and started tearing the freshly cleaned apartment apart looking for something reflective to see if I had grown any hair on my face. I found a big stainless steel pot in the kitchen and strained to find a reflection at all.

"Oh, hells bells! I drank the wrong potion!" I got dressed then bandaged myself up and threw on sunglasses I never wore because I'd just forget them in the apartment, then headed for McAnally's. I was thrilled to see Suzan. She was a Latin beauty, with bronze skin, big brown eyes and plump curvy lips. She wore a short brown business skirt, flirty white, low cut blouse and brown leather jacket. Her hair was in a clip behind her head, letting some short brown hair frame her face. And her sauntering walk made me want to samba. I stood up and kissed the back of her hand, held the chair out for her (without protest), then offered her a drink before the interview began.

"What's with the bandages? You look like the invisible man." She asked. McAnally's was a pub frequented by the spooky crowd. I felt comfortable enough there, so I removed the wrappings to show I was the invisible man today.

"I drank the wrong potion." I admitted. She gasped, but after examining how invisible I was she sputtered then started laughing. I blushed then felt some sensation in my face and watched Susan stare in amazement as I returned to visibility.

With an impressed tone she said. "I much prefer the ruggedly handsome Harry Dresden to the mummy Dresden. This is going to make a great story. I wish I brought my camera." I blushed some more then she cleared her throat, which did interesting things to her décolletage, and began her assault of questions from a list she compiled most likely based off what I had said before and maybe stuff from books. There was plenty of flirting mixed into the interview but I had the distinct impression it was just the way she was. At the end, she asked me to keep in touch and gave me a card with her cell phone number and winked as she left. I leaned back in my chair and smiled to myself as I drank alone at my table but not feeling lonely any more. I guess it's just cops that cant look at me and tell what kind of guy I was. Or maybe I should just be Invisible when I first meet someone new.