Send in the Clowns Part 2- Pride and Diners

A Monica Minors investigation

“How do you do it?” Derek asked me as he stared into his cup of black coffee.

“I just do it. It’s my life.” I answered, adding more cream to my cup. Shooting the waitress a grin.

“How often do weird things like this come up, Monica?” Derek’s brow furrowed. He was tired. His lilting Savannah accent started slipping out.

“Thankfully not often. Most of the time it’s just people jumping to conclusions. It’s a raccoon and not a flesh eating goblin pilfering their trash cans.” Six creamers. The perfect cup of coffee. No sugar.

“Are you fucking serious? Flesh eating goblins?” Derek suppressed a chuckle.

“Yep. Thankfully encounters with them are rare.” I sip my coffee and watch his face fall. People’s faces always fall when they realize I am not kidding.

“What do you think of this case? What did you… notice?” He recovers well. There’s a reason I like Derek. He can roll with the metaphysical punches. I hate having to baby someone through their first realization that the world isn’t as figured out as they think it is.

I frown and it’s my turn to look at my coffee. “The man who did this knows how to use magic. He is doing something purposeful. He has helpers.”

“That tracks. Forensics said there was evidence of at least two people.” He nods.

“There are three. Two naked men… well sort of men, in clown masks. The third stands in the corner. Filming.” The eggs arrive.

Two scrambled dry with a side of toast for me. Derek isn’t eating. I need the protein after mental projection that strong.

Derek stares out the window. His coffee forgotten. “How is he picking them? It all seems so random. Except for them all being 23 years old.”

“There’s a USB drive. He enchanted it and left it on a bus. It acts as a psychic beacon to anyone who fits the victim profile. They pick it up. They take it home. They load it on their computer. They think it’s all their idea. But it’s his idea.”

“Christ. But why is he doing it?” Derek is interested now. His gaunt face takes on the look of a hunting dog.

“He is likely enacting a ritual. I will have to research. Dig around. See what happens. Magic is a weird thing. It’s deeply personal but there are patterns. If I can intuit his patterns I might be able to reverse engineer his reasoning.” I watched the traffic whizzing past the diner.

Derek’s eyes bored into me. His pale blue eyes shining. I knew his question.

“No. This one can’t be caught and sent to trial. He has some skill and some juice. Prison won’t hold him.” I pursed my lips.

Derek Laughton sighed. “I was afraid you would say that.”

“I will make sure he’s not missed. There will be no paperwork. And I do have an advantage here.” I sip my coffee.

“And what is that?” the detective asks, not bothering to hide his accent with me.

“Our boy thinks he is the only one who can do magic. Otherwise he would have concealed his actions better. Pride goeth before the fall.” I finished eating one of the pieces of toast. It was strange to hear my grandfather’s words coming out of my mouth.

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