Paul nodded. "Yes, of course, you're absolutely right. We have had enough trouble with racism among

our own kind. To introduce the idea of a superior race, who were once our predators—and apparently,

some still are—no, society would not take it well at all. I suppose Joe Loomis understood that,

instinctively."

Paul nodded. "Yes, of course, you're absolutely right. We have had enough trouble with racism among

our own kind. To introduce the idea of a superior race, who were once our predators—and apparently,

some still are—no, society would not take it well at all. I suppose Joe Loomis understood that,

instinctively."

"The police lieutenant who is investigating the murder," Paul replied. "Obviously, he knows nothing of the

Dark Ones, but he was intent upon concealing the fact that the victim was killed by necromancy, for fear

of the effect it would have on the people of this town."

"That's very wise of him," said Merlin, nodding in agreement. "What sort of man is he, Paul?"

"Well, our paths had never really crossed until he called me in about the murder of that poor girl," Paul

replied, "so I don't know him very well. However, he strikes me as a very competent man. Reasonable

and forthright. He used to be a police officer in Chicago before he moved here, about ten years ago.

You'd never know it to look at him."

"How's that?" asked Kira.

Paul smiled. "Are you a nostalgia buff?"

"Not as much as Wyrdrune," she replied. "I think he's seen almost every pre-Collapse film ever made.

The classics, he's practically memorized."

"Ah," said Paul. "Then you'd be familiar with a movie actor named John Wayne?"

"The Duke?" asked Wyrdrune. He grinned and hooked his thumbs into his belt. "Sure thing, pilgrim."

"Joe Loomis bears more than a passing resemblance to him," Paul said. "And he's adopted western-style

dress with a vengeance. Boots, bolo ties, Stetsons, the works. I don't know what it is, but easterners

who move out here always seem to dress more western than the natives. Joe Loomis looks like a brawny

Texas Ranger, but the moment he opens his mouth, you know he's from Chicago."

"So he's in charge of the case until the Bureau field agent arrives?" asked Wyrdrune.

"Well, technically, I'm supposed to be in charge, as magic use involved in the crime puts it out of his

jurisdiction and makes it a Bureau case," said Paul. "However, I told him that I'm not even remotely

qualified to conduct a criminal investigation, so I suppose until the field agent comes, my official role is

that of an advisor."

"I was afraid you'd take it upon yourself to find the killer," Merlin said, "using your sensitivity."

Paul made a tight grimace. "I tried to convince myself I shouldn't," he said, "but I felt that it was my

responsibility to try. I've already eliminated several . . . I suppose the proper term would be suspects."

He sighed. "I did not enjoy doing that. In order to be certain, I had to look quite deeply. As a result, I've

discovered things about some friends of mine that I'd rather not have known."

"The important thing is that you didnot discover the necromancer," Merlin said. "Otherwise, you would

be dead now. Or worse yet, enslaved by the Dark Ones."