The Last Living Detective Read online

  But before I could get to my feet, the witch hastily climbed aboard her broomstick. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” she spat. Another movie line? “I’ll get you, my pretty!” was I the best I could come up with as she flew down the stairwell. But I was too exhausted to even think of following.

  This ring’s trouble with a capital T, I thought as I gathered my wits in the hallway. I once vowed to get to the bottom of this even if it kills me. Now I realized it just might. One more day, I promised myself. Just one more day of investigating then I’ll fork the damn thing over to Alvyra and be done with it. My stomach still growling, I headed out to dinner.

  Three establishments graced the shopping strip on Fourteenth. The first was a drinking hole that catered to cops. Non-werewolves were certainly not welcome there. Next door was a BBQ joint for their dragon partners who always had a taste for burnt flesh. The smoke and the heat tended to drive away other customers. Then there was Mama Lo’s for the rest of us.

  Mama’s place was a tradition in the neighborhood long before she died. Even after being reborn a Buddha, she continued dishing up her trademark dim sum and fried noodles to the hungry masses. Shunning the glitz and tourism of Temple Town, her establishment served Chinese to the very same shady crowd that patronized her while alive. On any given night, you’d find a wide assortment of cons, grifters, and scammers occupying her tables. They may be the shadowy underbelly of LA, but they knew a great dumpling when they tasted one.

  I walked in and waved to Mama as I took an empty table. The six hundred-pound Buddha sat oblivious atop her oversized lotus blossom near the kitchen door, a beatific smile across her features. It wasn’t like I expected a response. No one’s seen Mama move or talk for years. Still it’s rumored she rides hard and rough over the kitchen staff, but nobody can figure out how.

  As I waited for a follower to take my order, I looked around the room. There was everything from wizards to centaurs to basilisks merrily chatting as they gulped down Aaian cuisine. Unfortunately, I didn’t recognize any face that was worth talking to.

  “Mind if I join you?” I looked up from the menu to find Benny the Weasel miraculously standing before my table. He seemed to appear out of nowhere but then that was Benny’s style. The Weasel served an indispensable function as the unofficial neighborhood news gatherer. For the price of a meal or a drink, he’d pass on more gossip than a local newscast and be twice as entertaining doing it. I nodded and he tucked in his tail as his long, slender body took the seat next to me. Pouring himself some tea, he inserted his muzzle in the saucer and lapped it up. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you and that ruckus up in Temple Town last night,” he said. “A word to the wise, the cops have developed an unhealthy interest in you.”

  “I know. One of them was in my office this afternoon.”

  “Really?” Benny’s pointed ears perked up and he leaned in closer. “Which one?”

  “Officer Lawrence Talbot.” I knew what I said would be broadcast all over town by morning but with Benny you had to give before you got.

  “Watch what you say around that one, Elmer. He’s dirty.”

  “Aren’t all werewolves dirty?” I said chuckling.

  “I’m not talking hygiene, beating heart. He has his filthy paws dipped in every racket in the city. Even had the nerve to try and shake down Mama once but the customers banded together and threw him out on his ear. Just be careful with Talbot. He’s a bad one.”

  We were interrupted by a saffron robed acolyte setting a dish of dim sum before me. I placed one of the dumpling on a small plate and slid it toward Benny. “Any word on the street about somebody counterfeiting gold wedding bands?”

  “Why? Are we running out of jewelers?” Benny laughed as he brushed a clump of fur off the table. “Who’d want to get into a chump change racket like that?”

  I really didn’t expect more but still I was disappointed. “Just asking for a friend.”

  Benny shrugged then wolfed down his dumpling. “By the way, have you heard the latest on Mama? Don’t know much about astral projection but she’s been spotted around town getting hot and heavy with a certain Jesus from the Calvary Burger Barn on Figueroa…”

  The Weasel and I shared dumplings and gossip for a couple of hours while I contemplated my next move.

  Once again, I found myself threading my way through the crowded sidewalks of Temple Town. Live and undead devotees stood in front of their houses of worship, preaching zealously to the oblivious pedestrians passing by.

  Suddenly a slim, feminine figure stepped into my path. She was gorgeous from head to toe in a very human way. Her deliberately skimpy attire made no effort to hide her curving charms. Even the green feathers growing from her scalp only added to her allure. But it was obvious from her demeanor that such beauty came with a price tag.

  “Want a date?” she asked.

  “No thanks.” I tried to push past her.

  Within seconds, she began to change. Her chest flattened as her entire frame grew more muscular. A goatee of feathers sprouted all over the once feminine face. “How about now?” he asked.

  “Again, no thanks. I’ve got someplace I need to be.” I quickly walked past the street walker and looked for my destination. Pushing my way through a group of dancing Hindi sleestaks, I finally came upon the Hall of Cthulhu.

  The interior of the temple was a nightmarish maze of black curving corridors bearing off kilter doors. The ebony walls were randomly painted with hordes of unsettling glowing icons and terrifying portraits of eldritch gods. The few faithful I encountered ignored me as they went about their ritual treks through the temple. Then I came upon the main chapel, a large chamber with jutting limestone walls. A multitude of tentacle-heads, many in rags, knelt before an enormous gilded likeness of the Winged Octopus. They silently rocked back and forth, mouthing passages from their Necromicons opened on the floor before them. Nowhere in the chapel did I see what I came here for.

  Wandering down more of the maddening corridors, I finally came upon a sign marked OFFERINGS and followed the arrow, hoping the rumors about this place were true.

  Eventually I arrived in a large room teeming with stacks of crates bearing the Seal of the Winged Octopus. It was there I saw what I came for. In the back of the storage area was a glowing green hole in the wall. The portal! I’ve done a lot of crazy things in my time, but this had to be the craziest. Do I send a note ahead or just crawl on through? It was then I heard approaching footsteps and ducked behind a stack of crates marked GLUTEN FREE VIRGIN TENDERS.

  A young mortal man in dark blue work overalls approached from the other end of the room and carefully examined a clip board hanging beside the portal. Next, he inspected a nearby machine with blinking LED’s and nodded his head in satisfaction. Whistling refrains from a current pop tune, he rolled a conveyer belt in front of the portal and loaded it with crates. After pushing the cargo into the glowing greenness, he turned and shouted, “I know you’re in here; I can hear you breathing. Come out and let’s talk about this.”

  Maybe it’s time for a refresher course on my detective skills. Nothing for it, I raised my hands and stood up. The worker smiled as he saw me and motioned me closer. He introduced himself as Andy. “You’re about a month early.” he told me. “We only do sacrifices on High Holy Days. And we never send mortals; they’ve way too much to lose.”

  “I’m not here to sacrifice myself,” I told him. “I want to get in touch with whoever’s on the other side of that thing.”

  “You’re planning on coming back? That’s a first.”

  “I was thinking of sending a note.”

  “Won’t work. We’ve sent through tons of prayers from the faithful but never got a word back. Whatever’s on the other side of that portal is either illiterate or just doesn’t give a damn.”

  “Then how do you know anybody’s there?”

  “Well, every once in a while, a tentacle pokes through, grabs a box, then withdraws back into its own dimension. Spooky but then this is the House of Cthulhu.” Andy looked me up and down and shook his head. “What do you hope to gain from this stunt?”

  “I need information only they can provide.”

  “You and everybody else.” Andy thought for a minute then said, “If you’re mind’s really set on this, maybe I can help. But only on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You give me a detailed account of what’s the other side when you return,” he said with a wink.

  “Deal.” I shook his hand.

  “I originally trained as a theoretical physicist,” Andy said as he led me to a hallway closet. “That’s why they trust me to maintain the portal. But I did some work in aerospace before I got this job. Every so often, a whiff of atmosphere comes through the portal. It’s green and smells like shit. I don’t know exactly what it’s made of but you’re going to need this if you want to breathe on the other side.” He opened the door to reveal a genuine NASA spacesuit.

  I eyed him suspiciously. “You’ve thought of doing this yourself, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah but who’s going to fix the portal if something goes wrong while I’m on the other side?”

  I ran my hands along the spacesuit’s smooth fabric. “Nice. You get this through your aerospace connections?”

  “Nah, eBay.” He unhooked the suit from its hanger and removed it from the closet. “C’mon, I’ve got a couple of oxygen tanks to go with thatS.”

  As I stood before the portal in my spacesuit, Andy checked the seals for leaks. “Now remember you’ve got three hours of air but for safety’s sake, I’d suggest you start heading back when the dial reaches two. Good luck and you’re a go.”

  I climbed onto the conveyor belt and crawled into the portal. Creeping through a fog of
radiant green, I unceremoniously fell to the ground after only a few feet. Before me was a cracked and barren plain populated with a forest of tall weathered Grecian style marble columns. They rose up into the sky, disappearing into the overhead jade mist. Empty crates were scattered about the bleak landscape, but I saw no other signs of life.

  As I got to my feet, I heard a deep commanding voice in my head. “You come here often?”

  I turned around and there beside the now blue portal was Cthulhu himself. An octopus as big as an office building, the only thing more impressive than his eight writhing tentacles was the set of gigantic leathery wings sprouting from behind his oval eyes. “Congratulations. You’re the first sacrifice to arrive here alive.” Cthulhu said inside my mind. “I hate to tell you this, but I don’t eat your kind any more. Bad for the figure. Try Yog-Sothoth. He might still be into that sort of thing.”

  I held up my empty palms. “I’m not a here as a sacrifice, Deity. I came to ask you a few questions.”

  Cthulhu’s mood abruptly changed. “You dare come to my world to questions me? What makes an insignificant insect like you think you could even comprehend answers from one such as myself?” The god blew a hearty stream of water from his siphons. “You lesser forms are certainly annoying. Maybe I should pay your dimension a visit and teach it some manners.”

  I’m not much on religion but this being coming through the portal could pose a major problem for Mankind. Swallowing my pride, I knelt before the god. “Oh, Great Cthulhu, please don’t punish an entire world for my trespasses.”

  The eldritch god laughed and waved an enormous tentacle in the air. “Only kidding. I have no intention of ever setting tentacle on your world again. Way too hot and muggy for my taste. And the last time I was there, some of your fellow mortals tried to make sushi out of me. I like it better here; good weather, free food, and we even get cable.”

  Not exactly what I expected from a deity with a reputation like his. Although he was swift to anger at the slightest provocation, he was equally quick to forget. “But aren’t you the—“

  “Devourer?” Cthulhu’s siphons hissed water again. “Isn’t that always the way of it? Eat one measly universe and they brand you for life. I keep telling them it was only a youthful indiscretion, but nobody listens. You’ve nothing to fear from me, tiny creature. Go ahead and ask your questions but be quick about it. My show’s on in a few minutes.”

  I pulled the ring from the suit pocket. “What can you tell me about this.”

  The octopus god’s tentacle deftly plucked the ring from my hand and held it before his enormous eye. “Is somebody getting married?”

  “I have it on good authority it’s not from my world.”

  “Not from mine either.” He tossed the ring back to me. “Our jewelry’s far better made. Bigger too.”

  Dejected, I stuffed the ring back in my front pocket. “If it’s not from my world or yours, where could it have come from?”

  Cthulhu chuckled. “Is yours the only planet in your universe?”

  “You’re not talking extraterrestrials?” I said incredulously. “No one seen even a UFO since the Gas was released.”

  “Maybe they’re in hiding.”

  “Not exactly logical,” I said.

  The deity’s body writhed as streams of many colors ran through its skin. “Logic? You think I’d allow myself to be constrained by such a puerile thing as logic? I detest logic and will have nothing to do with it. Now if you’re done with your questions, my show’s on.”

  I could see there was no point in continuing. This fickle god could snap at any moment and destroy me. I looked down at the oxygen gauge and discovered the dial was already creeping past one. “Thank you for your cooperation Your Mightiness. I must go too.”

  His anger already forgotten, Cthulhu’s waved his eight tentacles to signal goodbye. “Drop by anytime. It gets lonely here. I’ll even introduce you to the other gods if you’d like. They’ll just eat you up.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” I leaped into the blue portal and within seconds found myself sprawled at Andy’s feet. “That was fast,” the technician said. “You’ve only been gone twenty minutes.”

  “My watch says two hours.”

  “Time dilation. Amazing! Let’s get you out of that suit and you can tell me what you saw.”

  We sat by a desk sipping coffee as I described Cthulhu and his world to Andy. I didn’t mention anything about the ring though. The poor guy had enough on his plate.

  “And you say he’s never coming back?” Andy asked with surprise. “The priests have been predicting his geturn for years. They even reserved an apartment upstairs for him.”

  I shrugged. “What can I say? He hates this place.” Glancing overhead I added, “Anyway I doubt Cthulhu would even fit up there.”

  Andy thought for a moment then leaned over and whispered. “Let’s keep this to ourselves. Tell no one, especially not the priests. If this gets out, they’ll probably close the temple and I’ll be looking for another job.”

  All I could do was smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  And that, dear friends, is how many a religion’s managed to survive the passage of time.

  Chapter 5

  Dispirited, I shuffled into the office to be greeted by Val behind her desk.

  “Rough night?” she asked.

  “You don’t know the half of it.” I told her. “I think I dredged up more questions than answers.” I proceeded to tell her about Hecate and my fruitless meetings with Benny the Weasel and Cthulhu.

  “You are one crazy detective.” She swiveled the computer screen toward me. “I might have something to cheer you up. Remember that new algorithm I told you about? I ran it and found our glyphs.”

  “You’re able to translate them?”

  “Not exactly but I think I know where to look for a Rosetta Stone.” Her fingers danced across the keyboard and a thesis paper appeared on the screen: “Written and Guttural Protolanguages of isolated Pleistocene Societies. “

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Oh Boss of Little Faith.” Val scrolled down the paper until the screen rested on a photo of a cave wall bearing markings resembling those on the ring. She also showed me diagrams of other glyphs in the text itself. “I’m not sure how this connects to our ring, but it makes you think.”

  “Who wrote this?” I asked.

  With a flick of her wrist, an old Kodachrome snapshot appeared on screen. “Meet Dr. Joseph Senecka, linguist extraordinaire. Or at least he was extraordinaire before he disappeared. Because of his brilliant work with prehistoric languages, he was considered a rising star in the field. He was also introverted, distrustful, and quarrelsome, all of which eventually cost him his professorship at UCLA. After that he became a consultant to a mining company and spent his off time holed up in his humble San Bernardino home.”

  “Might be the right guy to talk to. But you said he disappeared?”

  “It happened a year ago. Neighbors say they heard a gunshot then saw a moleman scurrying out into the front yard. The police believe it was Senecka after he Changed. Anyway, he frantically burrowed into the ground and hasn’t been seen nor heard from since.”

  I leaned closer to the computer, examining Senecka’s unremarkable features. “That’s all very interesting, Val, but how’s that help us decipher the ring?”

  “Now we come to the good part, Boss. The house is still there. With no relatives, loved ones, or offspring laying claim, it remains pretty much undisturbed while the County figures out what to do with it. Maybe, just maybe he left something behind that can help us translate those symbols.”

  “Val, you’re a genius.” She flashed me a set of pearly white fangs in gratitude. “I think it’s time I took a ride up to the SB.”

  I was going into my office to retrieve my car keys, when I suddenly felt something viscously nibbling on my ankle.

  “Oscar!”

  Fighting the late afternoon freeway traffic, night had fallen by the time I reached the Senecka home. It was an old decaying single family ranch house dropped smack in the middle of a seedy neighborhood replete with cauldron lounges and check cashing businesses. The long neglected front lawn was a mixture of green growing weeds and dying brown grass. Decaying side boards and a rusted-out bicycle frame added an extra touch of decrepitude to the front porch. All in all, it was your typical suburban LA dump. Might make a good crack house someday, I thought as I parked in the driveway of the abandoned residence.