72. Mage's Funeral (1)

Hank arrived as promised.

The police station was not large. Compared to the size of their town, it could even be called small. But it had everything it needed, all the essentials. Hank chose not to go in. Instead, he lit himself a cigarette by the station's back door. He had already sent Daniel a message. All he had to do now was wait.

Before long, the back door of the station was pushed open.

Daniel walked out, his expression dark. "That bastard had a whole bottle of brandy in his car, and he drank every last drop of it. He entered town from the main road at two in the afternoon. After getting a meal, he started wandering around town—fuck, looked more to me like he was looking for someone."

"In other words, this was premeditated?"

"I won't say that before the investigation results come out, but I can give you something off the record, Hank." Daniel pointed at the back door. "That piece of trash is inside right now, being well taken care of by us."

Hank nodded thoughtfully, then happened to put a little more distance between himself and Daniel, and stubbed out the cigarette he had barely taken two drags from.

"I understand. Thanks, Daniel. Come to Daddy's Bar tomorrow night. My treat."

"You do know I quit drinking, right?"

"Daddy's Bar doesn't only sell alcohol." Hank smiled. "Have you forgotten how good Daddy's Russian food is? Remember, tomorrow night. Miss it and you're out of luck."

"You've got something going on today?" Daniel asked keenly.

"Something like that."

Hank's vague answer made Daniel's eyes brighten.

He nodded to Hank, turned, and pulled the door open. Just before stepping inside, he said to Hank, "I won't ask what you're going to do, but if it's what