The Book of Death (Bourbon Kid 4)

serving breakfast. Still, Sanchez decided to
play along for now. He was willing to tell Flake whatever she wanted to hear,
as long as it meant he got to eat his breakfast in peace.
    ‘Well, that’s great news isn’t
it?’ he said disingenuously. ‘I’ll be down there as soon as I’ve finished my
breakfast. Just try and stop me.’
    ‘Brilliant,’ said Flake,
clapping her hands together with glee. ‘We can go together. I’m signing up too.
I’m so glad I’ll have someone to go with. This will just be the most fun, won’t
it?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I’ll drive us there as soon as
you’ve finished your breakfast.’
    ‘Huh?’
    ‘I’m so excited! My horoscope
said this would happen!’
    ‘Wait, hold on a—’
    ‘In fact, I’m going to buy your
breakfast for you this morning.’ With that, Flake dashed off back to the
kitchen to make his breakfast. She sure did seem excited. Sanchez figured he’d
let her pay for his breakfast, as it was obviously important to her. But then,
once he’d finished eating it, he’d come up with a way of getting out of signing
up for the police force.

 
    Five

 
    Dan Harker was having a hell of a day already. In the early hours of the
morning he had been summoned to the Mayor’s office and deputized as the new
Captain of the Santa Mondega Police Department. His first day wasn’t going to
be a gentle bedding-in, either. Most of the city cops had been murdered the
previous day so he wasn’t going to have much help dealing with any crimes. The
Mayor had done all he could to help by placing advertisements all over town
requesting members of the public to sign up, but that just meant Harker would
have to spend half the day recruiting.
    Investigating the most recent Bourbon Kid massacre and totaling up the number
of victims was going to be one hell of a job. The only good news was that
according to a number of eyewitnesses the Bourbon Kid had been gunned down and
beheaded in a hotel corridor just after midnight, so by rights the killing
should have come to an end.
    Before heading to the station to introduce himself as the new Captain,
Harker first had to stop off at the local museum. The mayor had informed him
that the security department at the museum had some CCTV footage of the Kid
murdering their manager, Professor Bertram Cromwell.
    When Harker arrived at the museum, Elijah Simmonds, the deputy manager,
greeted him in the reception area. Harker had only met Simmonds on one previous
occasion. It had been at a charity event held by Bertram Cromwell over a year
earlier. Simmonds had struck him as being a bit of a dick. He’d worn a cheap
ill-fitting suit and he had a horrendous ponytail that really didn’t suit his
narrow face.
    Simmonds welcomed him with a
warm handshake and a cursory smile, so it wasn’t as if the guy was totally
devoid of qualities. Unfortunately though, h e still
had the ponytail and the poor taste in suits. His face wasn’t quite as narrow
as before. In fact he appeared to be in the process of growing a second chin.
    As the two of them walked along a
narrow corridor on the way to the security office, Simmonds surprised the new
Police Captain with an observation Harker wouldn’t have made himself.
    ‘You and I have a lot in common,’
he said.
    ‘How so?’
    ‘Well, we obviously both like to
dress well,’ Simmonds smiled and hesitated a moment waiting for Harker to make
an agreeing sound of some kind. He didn’t. Harker’s black three-piece suit was
impeccable and fitted snugly, unlike Simmonds’s ill-fitting grey number. ‘And
then of course there’s the obvious,’ Simmonds continued.
    ‘What’s that then?’
    They arrived at a door in the left
wall of the corridor and Simmonds turned the handle of it, pushing it open
before continuing. ‘Both of us have just landed ourselves a promotion, courtesy
of the Bourbon Kid’s killing spree yesterday.’
    Harker threw a look of disapproval
at Simmonds. The comment was in rather poor taste under the circumstances.
Simmonds recognised the look.
    ‘Obviously it’s not how I would
have wanted to get my new job. I would much rather Bertram Cromwell was still
alive, of course, as I’m sure you wouldn’t have wished death on the previous
Police Captain.’
    Simmonds stepped inside the
security office and held the door open for Harker to follow him through.
    ‘The last Captain was a Grade A
prick and I’m glad he’s dead,’ said Harker, stepping into the room.
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘Can you