CHAPTER THREE: COMMUTED SENTENCE
Murphy walked Harry to his holding cell. Before entering he handed her the handcuffs.
"Jesus Harry." She grabbed them out of his hand angrily. "One of these days you're going to show me how you do that."
"It's magic Murphy." Harry smiled.
"Right. Magic with a capitol M or small M?"
"Definitely capital." He stumbled into the cell with a little help from Murphy's not so gentle shove. "You do know I'll get out of here, right?"
"I am just doing my job." She was none committal. That was practically permission for him to use his magic to escape.
"I get one call, right?"
"I'm not sending you to the gallows Dresden."
"I want my one call." Harry protested.
"Fine, who do you want to call?" Murphy grabbed Harry's arm and led him down the hall. He marched silently behind her, all the way to her small cubicle office. He didn't answer until they were seated.
"Lisa Cuddy, Princeton, NJ." He owed her a call. Also, he didn't have anyone else to call, so what was the harm?
"What's her number?" Murphy eyed him suspiciously. She had a nagging feeling he was up to something.
"Don't know." He shrugged.
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"You're the police, can't you figure it out?" Harry picked up a pencil and started tapping it until Murphy snatched it away.
"Who is this Lisa person? Long lost cousin?" She doubted that.
"Old friend." Harry waited patiently for Murphy to find the number.
Murphy dialed and listened for a ring before shoving the phone at Harry. "Here."
Harry listened to the soft ringing. He could feel his nerves getting the better of him. He had to get them under control or...the phone went dead. Wizards and technology, two things that did NOT get along. He pushed the redial button.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Murphy didn't trust him at all.
"It went dead. I had to redial." Harry explained casually.
"You get one call, Harry. It's over." She hit the release button and the phone went dead again.
"Why'd you do that? I didn't get my call, it didn't go through." Harry protested.
"I'm sorry Harry. It's late. You can try again in the morning."
"The morning! You're keeping me here all night?" That wasn't going to work.
"This isn't San Quentin, Harry. It's the drunk tank. You'll be fine."
"I'll be gone is what I'll be." Sometimes he really needed to keep his big mouth shut, but he never did.
"You will be spending the night in the tank. It's not the end of the world." She pulled him to his feet. He towered over her.
"You don't know that," he muttered.
"Get over yourself Harry, you're not Superman." Murphy dragged him down the hall and back to the cells. She locked him in and warned the guard to keep an eye on him. "Goodnight Harry."
"Yeah, Night Murphy," Harry grumbled.
Harry paced his cell. Every ten minutes the guard passed by, nodded at him then headed back to his desk. That didn't give Harry much time, but it did give him a plan.
Harry heard the cell block door open. He walked over to the bars of his cell and slid his hand slowly over the lock, muttering something under his breath, and smiling when he heard a faint click.
The guard made his round past Harry's cell. "You might as well get some sleep Dresden."
"Tell you what," Harry said with cocky confidence, "why don't you get some sleep in my place."
"Huh?" Was all the guard had time to mutter before Harry swung open his cell and clocked him on the back of the head.
"Sorry," Harry said as he dragged the guard into the cell. "You shouldn't have been so diligent in your duties." Harry took the nightstick from the guard's belt, removed the man's coat and hat and shrugged. He slowly began muttering in some ancient or made up language. Even he couldn't tell the difference sometimes.
"Achtul, takis malhoff, desidian trunketh parfat." He concentrated all his energy into the nonsense words. What he said wasn't as important as what he felt, and he felt like he wanted to get out of that police station, pronto.
Slowly, the guards bulky physique started to shrink down, his massive muscles slimmed to merely functional, his round head chiseled down to a more roguish oval. Harry watched as the guard slowly turned into him. He smiled with satisfaction at his work.
The glamour wouldn't last long, and if anyone looked too closely, they would know it wasn't him, but it would buy him a few extra minutes if someone decided to come check on him. He picked up the guards hat and coat, which he had removed before the transformation, and slipped them on. This disguise wouldn't fool anyone, but if he kept his head down and walked with authority, he'd manage.
The downtown Chicago precinct was pretty empty this time of night. Sure there were the usual drunken bums being given a free night's stay at Hotel Jail, and the odd prostitute arguing about the difference between hooker and escort with some young beat cop new to the game. The beauty of the night shift, at least for Harry, was that they were all too tired and too busy to notice a skinny guard in an oversized hat and coat slipping out the front door. Well, all but one of them that is.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Harry felt the gun pressing into his back. He knew she wouldn't shoot him, at least he thought she wouldn't, but he stopped and turned slowly, just in case.
"I'm on break. Thought I'd duck out for a smoke." Harry kept his head down.
"First, you don't smoke, and second, prisoners don't get breaks." Murphy pushed the hat off his head with the tip of the gun. "What'd you do to Torres?"
"He's napping." Harry said succinctly.
"Right." Murphy dragged him over to a desk and shoved him into one of the chairs facing it. "We need to have a little talk."
Harry wasn't surprised that Murphy hadn't gone home, she wasn't the type, and she had nothing to go home to. She had mentioned a daughter to him a few times, and he'd gotten the gossip from her partner Kurmani. The girl was living with her father. That must have been hard for Murphy, but she hid her pain in being the best damned cop on the force. She clearly had something to prove, and proved it each and every day.
"What?" Murphy felt Harry staring at her. It made her uneasy.
"Why don't you go home, get some rest. We can talk in the morning." Harry thought that sounded like a good plan.
"So you can escape again? No way." Murphy pulled something out of her pocket. It was a print out of an Illinois driver's license. "You know this guy?" She showed it to Harry.
"Can't say that I do." Harry studied the face carefully. Lying was a very effective skill in his line of work.
"Funny, because a witness put you at the scene of his murder too." Murphy was not pleased. She hated when Harry lied to her, and there was no doubt in her mind that he was doing so right now.
"Wow, I think this eye witness of yours is obsessed with me." Harry smiled and laughed, but it fell flat, so he stopped abruptly. "Look, Murph..."
"Don't look Murph me Harry Dresden. I want answers and I want them right now." She was getting her Irish up as they say. There wasn't much in Connie Murphy's appearance that would lead one to guess at her Irish heritage, but when she was angry, well, that Irish temper was unmistakable.
"I did not kill that girl. I swear on my father's grave I did not kill her." That was the truth. Harry didn't swear on his beloved father's grave for any old statement.
"How convenient of you to leave this guy out of that heartfelt statement." She did believe that he didn't kill Lashonda Parker, but she also believed that he very purposefully left out Matthew Smalls.
"Uh, yeah, well, he wasn't exactly like this at the time." Harry was stuck. His lying, though he did it often, wasn't all that good.
"Oh, I can't wait to hear the explanation for that." Murphy leaned back in her chair and waited for the story. Harry laid it out for her in vague detail, leaving out the bloodier parts. He knew she wouldn't believe him anyway.
"You just admitted to an officer of the law that you murdered a man in cold blood last night. And you expect me to what, exactly? Give you a medal?"
"That's not necessary. A simple thank you will do." He grinned. She was much too tense.
"I should lock you up and throw away the key!"
"He killed that girl, Murphy. I'm the only one who could stop him."
"Oh, yes, Harry Dresden, the great American Hero."
"Wizard, Murphy, Harry Dresden, Wizard." He corrected her for the millionth time.
"Right, Dresden, you're a wizard, and you got out of your cell with magic," she wiggled her fingers around when she said it, "and you slayed a dragon and..."
"I didn't say anything about a dragon!" Harry protested. "I killed a werewolf. Big difference. I never could have killed a dragon on my own. I don't think..."
"Harry!" She pulled his mind back into the police station. "Look, I believe that you killed this guy in self defense, but I need something better than he was a werewolf."
"I don't have anything better."
"Then I'm going to have to put you back in jail." She started to stand.
"You can't. It's scary in there." Harry tried to make a joke, but she wasn't laughing. "Murphy, locking me up isn't..."
Murphy's mobile rang. She held one hand to Harry and answered the phone. "Yeah," she listened intently to the voice on the other end. "No!" Harry studied her expression, she was shocked. "That's impossible." Now she was annoyed. "I'll be right there." She hung up the mobile with pent up anger. "You're in luck Dresden. We're going on a road trip."
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