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“Arguably I needed therapy before this. This hell house isn’t helping matters, that’s for sure.” I rubbed at my forehead and wished, again, it wasn’t so blazing hot out here. Was there a reason why Satan chose to sit his ass crack precisely here? Damn inconsiderate of him.

“You want to take Seiji and Lachlan with us?”

“That’s really up to them. I’m not sure if Seiji can do much of anything here until those portals are dealt with.”

“From what he said, you’re likely right.” Donovan kept shaking his head, over and over. “I’m just…”

I grunted in agreement. It boggled me how something so awful could happen. “Let’s ask them. We need to move.”

Donovan jogged over to the two, read them in, and they returned with him.

Seiji looked marginally satisfied. “Happy to report that the only true problem is that monstrosity in the basement. Rest of the area is clear. Still needs to be salted down, though. And probably smothered in sage. That said, I need to go in with you. I might be able to sneak some questions in, get some insight.”

“Alright by me, let’s go.”

Gaines waved us off as we got back into the Humvee and turned for the precinct. The drive was rather quiet, I think because were all still emotionally processing. When we got to the precinct, we had to file in, clip on visitor badges, etcetera. Borrowman must have radar for when I’m in the vicinity, as he appeared just as we got done at the front desk.

“You’re here, great.”

I turned, did the introductions. “Borrowman, this is Seiji Ito and Lachlan McTavish. Seiji’s our chaos magician.”

“I can’t promise to make the problem disappear like a magic trick,” Seiji deadpanned, extending a hand. “But I’ll at least handle the problem.”

Borrowman’s expression was pure relief as he accepted that handshake. “I’m so glad you’re here, truly, I’m out of my depth on this one. McTavish, you’re welcome. Ah, getting this vibe, you’re his anchor?”

“I am,” Lachlan confirmed easily. “Fiancé as well.”

“Not at all surprised, and welcome. I’ve got Carrington in an interview room already. His lawyer’s about ready to throttle him, he’s being so uncooperative, so Jon? Can you play good cop bad cop with me?”

“I’m alright with that.”

Seiji touched my shoulder lightly, drawing my attention to him. “There’s a few questions I need answers to. First, how long the power bank has been there. Second, what purpose it’s for. I’m sure they had some grand scheme in mind. Third question, who’s the man laying dead next to it. Was he an ally, or a guinea pig to see if they could handle it?”

“All good questions,” Borrowman approved. “And I want answers to them as well. Jon, let’s get ’er done.”

I blew out a stressed breath and nodded. Only way up was through, as the saying went.

Borrowman took us up to the second level where the interview rooms were. Donovan didn’t follow me inside, but escorted our friends to watch from the other side of the two way mirror. Someone had put a fresh coat of paint on this room’s walls, it was a slate blue now, and if it was supposed to be calming, it missed the mark. Felt too prison-y.

Carrington still looked a little smug, like he had the upper hand, somehow. The smugness didn’t even falter when he saw me. His lines shared he’d dismissed our earlier interaction as a fluke, convinced he had nothing to worry about. His lawyer had his expression locked down completely, but I could read his lines easily enough. The man was of the same age as Carrington, but a local, which made sense as Carrington couldn’t get a lawyer from back home this fast. He must have been recommended or something. There was no relationship between the two men aside from transactional, and I think the lawyer had realized this was a case he didn’t actually want to be part of.

“Mr. Greene, this is Jonathan Havili, a police consultant. He’s sitting in on this interrogation.”

The lawyer eyed me askance, but gave an understanding nod.

We did the song and dance for the recording, rattling of license number, date, time, all of that. Then Borrowman gave me The Look. I interpreted it without a struggle. The Look meant, your show, have at it.

Fortunately, I had a beautiful opening. In my most genteel, softest tone, I kindly told him, “You really shouldn’t have tried the brains. I don’t know if you were just curious, or if you were talked into it somehow, but human brains are the one thing you really can’t eat. It gives you Kuru. I see the beginning stages of the disease in your lines.”

Carrington’s smug superiority froze. He went unnaturally still, like he wasn’t even breathing for a moment, and his lines sparked with alarm, but also recognition. He knew what I referred to.

“Kuru?” Borrowman asked with genuine curiosity.

“It’s a truly horrid disease. A degenerative brain disorder like mad cow disease. Crazy thing is, it can have an incredibly long incubation period, sometimes up to fifty years, but the more you eat, the shorter the incubation span is. Ambulant stage, you get headaches, joint pain” —I kept a weather eye on Carrington and could see his lines spark with little flares of pain around knees, head, like he was having a sympathetic reaction just to the description— “shaking, decreased muscle control, things like that. Even cooked, the brain will transmit the disease.”

“Eww.” Borrowman played good cop to the tee as he gave Carrington a sympathetic look. “And you still ate it, knowing that?”

Carrington slammed cuffed hands down on the table, panic raw and blazing along his lines, twined with bright coral outrage. “No! He didn’t tell me that part!”