Detective Inspector Hurry Hamelin felt the pulse of a call. He diverted out of the police net and headed to where the call had originated. He had a meeting with City Hall, but that could wait if he had a real case.

The captain would understand if he missed a meeting with the Lord Mayor, and any cronies that might be present, if he picked up a dead body. That was more important in his opinion.

And he didn't mind making the Cap pull him off a case to work on some nonsense detail.

Hamelin appeared outside a denial zone. Blue lights floated around the yellow line to warn civilians that the police were on the scene. He looked around before he crossed the yellow line and headed for the scene of the crime.

Percy Berlin and Sonny Weselton stood next to a car that had been blown apart by some kind of force. Berlin, middle-aged and on the way to losing his hair, worked for the lab to identify the magic involved in crimes.

Weselton belonged to the same squad that Hamelin was attached to for Murders. Roughly the same age as Hamelin and Berlin, he looked like a blond muppet with a wide mouth and round eyes.

“I'm here first, Hurry,” said Weselton. “Go get your own murder to investigate.”

“I figured I would take yours to get out of a meeting with the Mayor,” said Hamelin.

“Somebody overclocked the car and blew it up from the inside,” said Berlin. “Fried the occupants.”

“We're still waiting for identification,” said Weselton. “Go to you meeting and enjoy it.”

“I would rather explode like this guy,” said Hamelin. He examined the car, letting his inner eye tell him what he wanted to know. “I don't remember seeing anything like this in my briefings.”

“Don't worry about it,” said Weselton. “As soon as the lab is done, I'll know who to go after in a few hours. I'll just need to draw up the warrants.”

“I don't think it will be that easy,” said Hamelin. “I'm reading a thousand signatures for this.”

“I'm reading the same,” said Berlin. “Obviously a thousand people didn't cast the same spell at one target.”

“Don't rule it out,” said Hamelin. “If you don't know what spell was used, you don't know what went into it.”

“Trust me,” said Berlin. “I'll take the signature apart at the lab. We'll know everything about it at the end of the week.”

Hamelin didn't say anything to that. Berlin was an expert. He had taken apart hundreds of crime scenes. If he said he could take the signature apart and use that to identify the culprit, he should be able to do it.

The inspector had seen cases dealt with easily after the lab was done with its work.

He had also chased down culprits after some kind of tip was called in, and he made the connection to a case.

Police work was rarely as cut and dried as they made it out to be.

His own read on the signature was a deliberate attempt to cover up who had thrown the spell by using aura grabs from citizens.

“Inspector Hamelin,” said Dispatch. “Captain Munich wishes to speak with you.”

“Can it wait?,” asked Hamelin. “I'm consulting on a new case.”

“Consulting?,” said Weselton. He put his hands in his pockets as he waited for the end of the discussion.

“I want you at the Lord Mayor's office immediately, or turn in your badge,” said Munich. “We need you to look at this case and sort it out before it becomes a disaster.”

“On my way,” said Hamelin. He made a slicing gesture with his hand to cut the call from his end.

“What do you think is going on?,” said Weselton.

“I have no idea,” said Hamelin. “Let me know what you turn up on your bomber. I doubt there's a connection, but you can never tell.”

“Plenty of criminals work in our fair city,” said Weselton. “These are separate cases.”

“They probably are,” said Hamelin. “If you come across a line, let me know and I will try to help out while ducking this case from Downtown.”

“It's a career buster,” said Berlin. “Why else would they ask for an inspector to show up at a meeting with the Mayor and Captain.”

“I won't know until I check in,” said Hamelin. “Keep me posted on what's going with your job. I'm interested in it.”

“I'll copy the reports and send them to your desk,” said Weselton. “I'll still be here watching the techs take things apart while you're there.”

Hamelin grabbed the police net. It yanked him into the aether. He navigated across the city and dropped out on the steps of City Hall. He straightened his jacket as he walked up the steps.

There was something about the way the car had been destroyed that seemed familiar. It was the same thing about the signature. You usually only saw one signature in a murder. An aura grab to power the spell was meant to disguise it from the lab people.

Weselton would figure it out. He had ten years in as a murder detective, and was a step below asking for promotion to a sergeant's rank.

He had probably already talked to the murderer and just needed something to prove the witness was actually the culprit.

Hamelin walked into the municipal center, showing his badge to get through security. The troll on duty nodded a heavy head as he waved the inspector into a clear lane to get inside without getting in line behind the civilians there to complain about something, ask for help, or report for jury duty.

Hamelin walked over to the elevators. He pressed the call button and watched the people around him. Any one of these people could be someone that he will be trying to bring in later.

He boarded the elevator with a small crowd and waited them out to get off on the top floor of the offices. He walked down the hall past people on phones trying to find out things they needed to do their jobs. He showed his badge to the old hag guarding the mayor's office. She gestured for him to enter.

Captain Bill Munich stood at the window, looking out on the city. He nodded when Hamelin came in the room. He had taken a poison claw at one point in his life and the wound to his face had been folded shut into a long scar.

Kenneth Marston, the Mayor, was a wide bulk in a blue suit and red tie. He stubbornly hung on to the remains of his hair. The girasol that showed his authority as the mayor gleamed from his hand as he handled papers for various changes to the rules of the city.

“Inspector Hamelin, please have a seat,” said Marston. He indicated a visitor's chair with one of his hands. “I have a threat that I need you to squelch if you can.”

“A threat to you?,” asked Hamelin.

“No,” said Marston. He handed over a sheet of paper for Hamelin to read. The inspector finished and handed the paper back.

“That's an impressive threat,” said Hamelin. “If he has enough juice to power succesive demon summonings, I don't see how I can stop him on my own.”

“I expect you to spearhead a task force to identify this persona and make sure that he can't make good on his threats,” said Marston. “Bringing him in for trial is only a consideration if you can hold him down.”

“I might not be able to stop him,” said Hamelin. “I'll let you know if I need anything.”

“We'll request people to help out,” said the Mayor. “We can't let one attack succeed, or go unanswered. Once one rogue has made it clear he can blackmail the city by a fake summoning, others will come out the woodwork to try it.”

“I can't make a promise that I will find him around ,” said Hamelin. He stood. “Let me see what I can do.”

The inspector walked from the office. He turned over what was needed for summonings in his head. A series of summonings would dry the market sooner depending on how big they were.

It would be easier tracking down Weselton's roadside murderer in his opinion.

Hamelin rode down to the street. The only thing he could do at the moment was beat the bushes. The threat listed several hints on where the summoner would strike. Looking the ground over while talking to ingredient procurers was his first move. Placing a chaplain on alert was his second.

If a demon was summoned, an exorcist would be essential in sending it back to where it belonged.

Hamelin couldn't discount the threat. A summoned demon could do a lot of damage before the police could deal with it. He had lost some friends to such attacks and remembered the struggle to keep the summoned monsters away from other people.

The last thing he wanted was a real threat to people by someone crazy enough to make those kinds of deals.

Hamelin walked out of City Hall. The central police station, 100 100th Street, was around the corner. He would start there to try to find this guy. He hoped he was dealing with a regular nut.

He had to call missing persons and see if there was a spike. Demon summoners needed blood, and the best way to get that was human sacrifices.

He better get an oracle before he really got started. That might give him a starting point. The hint would be vague, but if he could tie things to the threat, it might be enough to give him an area of attack.

The rest would be legwork. The captain would have to put uniforms patrolling the suspect areas. Other detectives would have to be readied to respond. His exorcist would have to be moved around the battlefield to deal with the demon if it was summoned.

Then someone would have to take down the summoner and make sure he was in irons, or dead.

Hamelin decided he would take care of that if he got close enough.

He walked into the hundred squared and headed up to the fifth floor where the murder squad was based. He went to his cubicle and checked his rolodex for exorcists that the department used regularly.

He called Father Charles and left a message when the exorcist didn't answer. The inspector checked for any messages. He didn't have anything he had to look at for the other detectives in the squad. He should head upstairs and talk to the department oracle.

Once he had a place to start, he would have to pound the pavement until he had a solid lead.

Hamelin stepped out on the roof of the building. A garden flowed around the egress. He paused to look around. He spotted the oracle sitting in the middle of a short hedge. He walked around the roof until he reached the entrance of the hedges, and then to the center.

“Hello, Hurry,” said the oracle. She handed over an envelope with his name written on the paper. “I have your prediction right here.”

“Thanks,” said the inspector as he took the missive.