Chapter 6.

ONE PARKER PLACE
(SEPT. 25, 1999)

The two police detectives had immediately called for back-up. Plus, an ambulance or two for the critically wounded survivors among the security staff. Winters, himself, was surprisingly unharmed. His date, however, had assumed a fetal position on the lawn to the left of Winter's front door. Rocking back and forth while chanting something about no normal men left in the world.

At the same time those units arrived, Winters' attorney showed up, too.

"I'm Lindsey McDonald of Wolfram and Hart. What happened here, detectives?"

"We are still trying to ascertain that, sir," replied George.

"You see," added Sykes: "one of his business associates just bought the farm, earlier tonight. A guy named Reyes? And, we wanted to ask your client if he has any enemies that ruthless?"

"My client will be glad to answer any and all questions, Detective! But, first thing tomorrow at Police Headquarters. Right now, I think he wants to run this young lady to the hospital."

"He may accompany her to the hospital in the other ambulance," said George: "As for the questioning? Very well! We will expect you and Mr. Winters at Headquarters, promptly, at 10:00 AM."

The next morning, Capt. Bryon Grazer called the two detectives into his office.

"I think the three of us can agree that Reyes' killing and the attempt on Winters' life are connected. Now, the only reason that you two were allowed to visit the Beverly Hills crime scene is because there was a Newcomer magician performing there, last night! So, Francisco? I'll be sending you to question him alongside a BHPD detective. While her partner will be working with you and Zapeda, Sykes, to question Winters and any other persons of interest. Any questions, so far?"

"Yes, sir," replied Sykes: "What are their names? Assuming you have them handy, sir."

As usual, Sykes' deferential tone was laced with a bit of facetiousness at the captain's expense. A trace remnant of the fact that George had been promoted to sergeant ahead of Sykes (despite the latter's chronological seniority)! Yet, while there had been some initial resentment of George, himself, over that, Sykes had quickly realized it had actually been Grazer's way of paying him back for earlier thinly-veiled insults (which Sykes considered well-deserved).

Ergo, the insults were now rarer and much subtler. But, twice as barbed, in proportion!

"Why don't I let them introduce themselves," said Grazer.

"How y'all doin', Matt?"

Sykes sprang to his feet with a smile.

"Freddy! How're you doing, dude?"

Detective Sergeant Frederick W. Dobbs smiled back: "Same old same-old! How about yourselves?"

"We cannot complain, Frederick," said George, as all three shook hands: "It seems like only yesterday that you were transferred to BPHD."

"Well, uh, what can I say? It's a semi-cushy job. But, somebody's got to do it!"

There was a polite cough, and Dobbs turned around.

"Oops!" exclaimed the African-American detective: "Where _are_ my manners? Matt Sykes; George Francisco? Meet my partner. . .Detective Kate Lockley."

The short-haired, blue-eyed blonde smiled, stepped forward, and shook the proffered hands.

* * * * *

ANGEL INVESTIGATIONS

(9:45 A.M./PDT)

"I met up Guillermo just before sunrise," said Angel: "He said the exit wound was _not_ the result of a gun being forced into Reyes' mouth and fired at point blank range! No trace of any GSR.* "

"What was it that killed him then?" asked Doyle.

"He said the coroner half-joked about a giant oyster drill."

"A what?!"

So, Angel explained how that was the name of a species of sea snail that used a razor-sharp tongue (called a "radula") to literally drill through an oyster's otherwise tough shell in order to get at the edible flesh inside.

"That's very interestin'," replied Doyle: "But, the last time I looked, there were no such things as giant oysters on dry land!"

"True! Yet, we do know one species of _demon_ that has such a tongue."

Doyle arched his eyebrows: "The Skilosh?"

Angel nodded, again: "I don't know how Reyes' death is connected to Spike trying to kill Winters. But, the Order of Teraka uses all kinds. And, Spike is just the kind of insane thrill-seeker to work for them himself!"

Suddenly, Angel's cell phone began to vibrate in his right rear pocket. He answered it.

"Yes, Jill?"

"Call for you on Line 1 of the regular office phone. It's from Sunnydale."

"I'll be right up!"

He took the stairs up, from his basement "suite," two at a time. And, when he got to Jill's desk, he turned off the blinking red "hold" button.

"Riley? It's Angel. What's Spike doing in L. A.?"

ONE PARKER PLACE

(9:55 A.M./PDT)

Meanwhile, Russell was about to finish his own cell phone conversation with Cyrus; the Brujah Prince of Los Angeles.

"So, what do you want me to do about Harcourt?"

"Nothing. If he wants a war, with me, then I'll give him one. Personally! As for the cops? Let your mouth-piece do the talkin'. You just play 'dumb' as best you can."

Winters agreed. Then, he deactivated the cell phone and went inside Police HQ in order to be punctual.

*GSR: gunshot residue

tbc