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in origin. The problem with that theory was that there were no other signs of spell work. No smoke, incense, herbs, candles or ceremonial circles.
    The symbols on the walls were too random and chaotic to be part of any spell.
    Rather than disturb the policeman again he exited through the bedroom window, jumping to the ground and leaving through the bushes at the end of the communal garden. His car was parked a block away and he made his way to it and back to the club.
    It was closing time by the time he pulled up at the back of the club and he could hear the staff cleaning up inside.
    He sat in his car for a few moments, wondering what to do next. Visiting the crime scenes had only raised more questions, not answered any.
    Right now his club was the only link between these girls and, much as he was loathe to think the killer was one of his customers, he supposed he should see what he could find here.
    Tracy was his favourite barmaid. She’d been working for him for a year and was very likeable - not to mention good at her job. She also had an innocence about her that was rare these days but she missed nothing that happened around her.
    “ Tracy, could you come up to my office before you leave tonight, please? I have some things I need to ask you.”
    Tracy looked like a deer caught in the headlights but nodded. She hurried through the rest of her jobs and with a sinking feeling then climbed the steps to his office. In Tracy’s experience, those in power only noticed those under them when something was wrong and being called to the boss’s office was never a good sign. She knocked softly.
    “ Come in,” he could smell her fear and gave her his most reassuring smile. As soon as she was seated he brought her mind under his control and began to question her.
    “ Do you know of any witches or occultists among our patrons?”
    Her replies were softly spoken and slightly monotonous, lacking her usual inflection. “There’s a lot. Mostly wannabes, though.”
    “ Anyone with real power, anyone who brags about his or her abilities?”
    Tracy searched her mind. “Brad. He’s… weird, you know?”
    “ How so?”
    “ He’s cocky. Too cocky, you know?”
    Alex hated the penchant young people had for saying ‘you know’. “Go on.”
    “ He’s always saying strange things. Most guys here are pretty laid back and, like, happy with themselves. They’re freaks but they’re among freaks so it’s okay, you know? But Brad thinks he’s better than the rest of us. He thinks we’re just play acting and he’s always saying he’s going to show us one day, that we’ll see.”
    “ Has he been in much recently?”
    “ I haven’t seen him since last week.”
    “ Do you know his surname, or where he lives?”
    “ No.”
    “ Is there anyone who might?”
    “ He used to be close to Kerry, she sort of took pity on him, but I don’t think they were still friends when she… died.”
    “ No one else who might know?”
    Tracy shook her head. Alex asked her to describe him but she was vague on any real details. Average height, black hair and pale could apply to most of his customers.
    “ If you see Brad in this club again you will let me know, do you understand?”
    “ Yes.”
    “ When you go back downstairs, Tracy, you will not remember this conversation. You will remember that I asked you up here to commend you on your good work and ask if you were having any problems covering Kate’s work while she’s off.”
     
    Frankie was already waiting when Will got there. Although they were staying in the café he noticed she had a disposable cardboard mug rather than a ceramic one.
    “ You did hear we’re trying to save the planet, right?”
    “ Good morning to you too,” she replied, perhaps a little tartly. She didn’t like it when people noticed her odd behaviour.
    “ You remembered I like black coffee,” he said, adding sugar to his mug.
    Frankie didn’t know what to say to that. Of course I remembered, I still think