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  “Yes. They are said to be very knowledgeable and helpful.”

  “So the park loses money?”

  “Not really.”

  “But unless they limit the free passes, most visitors will hold out for the next free day, and business at other times will be low.”

  “True. The locals are especially savvy about timing. Tourists less so, so they generally pay unless they can wangle spot free passes.”

  What had I missed out on, by not learning more about this park? Free tickets! “I take it that Demons are not ace businessmen.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  I glanced sidelong at her. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Of course. A little teasing is good for the relationship.”

  I let it be. I would surely find out soon enough.

  We joined the line and approached the admittance gate. “We’re together,” Nonce told the Demon at the booth.

  “One guide per person; that’s the rule,” the Demon said. “So you don’t get into trouble. Unless you prefer to pay for admittance.”

  “Pay!” Nonce exclaimed with finely crafted annoyance. “On a free day?”

  “Wear your numbers,” he said, handing us two tags. “So your guides won’t risk losing you.”

  “What, aren’t the attractions marked? How can we get lost?”

  “On crowded days, it can happen,” the Demon explained patiently.

  We pinned our tags to our shirts. Hers was 923 and mine was 924. That hinted how busy the park was today. The two guides had matching numbers. Nonce’s guide was a handsome Demon with small goatlike horns, furry body under his suit, a long forked tail, and cloven hooves. Mine was a lovely Demoness with cute horns and an infernally shapely torso distending her blouse and short skirt. Her tail flicked restlessly; it would not be inappropriate to call her a piece of tail.

  “This way, beautiful Witch,” the Demon said, putting a hand on her back as if helping a date.

  “We’ll go the same way, handsome Were,” my Demoness said. “Unless you prefer to separate and rejoin them in a bit?” Her blouse went translucent, flashing her firmly braless breasts.

  “I’d be lost without my date,” I said. In more than one way.

  “We’ll stay close.” She nudged into me, and somehow I found my arm about her hourglass waist.

  “The Tunnel of Love will do to start,” Demon 923 said. “It’s a busy day and we need to route around the crowds.”

  We got into a four-seater boat with Nonce and her Demon in front, me and my Demoness behind. The boat glided smoothly into the dark tunnel.

  “We are invisible,” my Demoness murmured as she guided my arm further around her body and my hand to her blouse. Her anatomy was just as shapely to the touch as it had been to the sight. Was Nonce being fondled similarly? “In fact we could doff our clothing and no one would know.” She breathed deeply, filling my hand.

  She was interested in making out like that right in the presence of my date? I did not trust this, evocative as her body and manner were. But her hands were busy, and I felt my clothing loosening. She was undressing me herself. I tried to grab her hands, to stop her, but they puffed into smoke and reformed beyond my grasp.

  Then one of her hands reached into my trousers and took hold of my member, which eagerly inflated. “Hey!” I whispered.

  Her face intercepted mine. She kissed me, her hands never faltering. I tried to push her away, but wherever I touched her body it smoked out, leaving me with nothing. I was helpless to balk her depredations, and beginning to lose my wish to do so. She was sexy as hell.

  Then she lifted herself, slid across, and her bare bottom came down on my exposed groin. “Hey!” I said, almost in an anguish of temptation.

  “I think we have indulged enough,” Nonce said as she removed herself from the Demon’s lap. “We have actually come to see Chief HellForLeather.”

  “What, you are dissatisfied with our service?” her Demon asked, sounding hurt. “We have hardly begun to experience the delights the park offers.”

  “I’m sure they are phenomenal. But we are here on business. Please divert the boat.”

  “This is highly irregu—” He broke off with a whimper of pain. Nonce had evidently squeezed him where it hurt. That region had, it seemed, been ready to hand, and not subject to dematerialization without defeating its purpose.

  “Now,” she said.

  The boat changed course in the darkness. I put myself back together as well as I could, and was sure Nonce was doing the same. Soon the craft emerged in an office suite. A formally garbed Demon stood there. His name tag said HellForLeather. “Nonce Witch! What are you doing in the LoveBoat without me?”

  “Making a small demonstration,” Nonce said as she stepped out. “My companion hasn’t been here before. I wanted him to see your operation in action. Get the feel of it, as it were.”

  Oh, the literalness!

  “Then you should have let things be. The action was incipient.”

  “Yes. I couldn’t delay longer.”

  HellForLeather shrugged. “Well, come on into the office.”

  I got out of the boat. The two guides floated the boat back into the tunnel, frowning. They realized that they had been foxed.

  The inner office was lined with television monitors. Each showed a different scene. Some were folk on ordinary rides or exhibits. Some were different, with Demons earnestly talking with numbered visitors. Some were downright naughty, with women riding nude or kissing Demons. One showed the boat we had just vacated, with the two glum Demons in it. Had the Chief been watching us getting busily seduced?

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “There’s a reason for the free passes,” Nonce said. “The visitors are the entertainment. The Demons are limited to persuasion, not coercion, and score points depending on how far they manage to get their charges to indulge. One point for a kiss, two points for nudity, three for heavy petting, four for full sex. Something like that. The spectator Demons make bets on the outcome of each case. All are continually broadcast on the park closed circuit.”

  So the seeming darkness of the tunnel was actually the brightness of the camera. If I had gotten bare with the Demoness, my body would have been on public display. Considering the state it would have been in, that would have been keenly embarrassing. As it was, she had been well on the way to scoring three points and driving for the fourth. If that was persuasion, coercion would have been downright dangerous! But Nonce had cut it short, after allowing it to proceed just enough so that I could appreciate it from a visitor viewpoint. I suspected the average visitor was literally screwed before he quite caught on, and then not in much position to protest. How could he prove he had not wanted it? If he didn’t want it. “And the visitors never know?” I asked.

  “They never know,” Nonce agreed. “Because if word got out, the enterprise would collapse, and the Demons would lose their prime source of entertainment. Since they are inveterate voyeurs, that would be a fate worse than death.”

  “And we are now committed not to tell?”

  “Yes. We do not wish to violate Demon privacy.”

  The Demons valued their own privacy, but not that of the marks. Par for that course. But there were rules of inter-Clan interaction, and betraying other Clans’ secrets was an absolute no-no. I would not tell. But neither would I bring a date here on a free day. Not unless we were both looking for wild partner-swapping. Maybe repeat visitors had exactly that in mind.

  “You are here about the murder,” the Chief said.

  “Yes. We just learned of it an hour ago.”

  “It just occurred four hours ago. I relayed news the moment I learned of it.”

  This was my domain. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

  “Demon Damne was evidently at home, snoozing in his bottle, when—”

  “Bottle?”

  “We Demons can dematerialize at will, becoming puffs of smoke. In that form we can rest without
disturbance. We do not need beds or bedrooms; a bottle on a shelf will do. This saves us expense; we can make do with smaller apartments among the mundanes.”

  “I see.” I had been experiencing the Demoness’s smoky hands and body in the LoveBoat; it seemed that was just the beginning. “So Damne was sleeping, when—?”

  “When someone evidently entered his apartment, corked his bottle so as to trap him inside, and put it in his freezer. We can tolerate practically any amount of heat, but cold is another matter; freezing quickly demolishes us. He would have been dead within the hour.”

  “Is there any chance the bottle fell into the freezer by accident?”

  “No. The bottle normally sits on its own shelf, and the freezer is normally closed. In any event the bottle was corked from outside; he would not and could not have done it from inside. It was a magic cork that fused it to the glass; only a spelled corkscrew wielded from outside could have freed it. It was definitely murder, done by a person knowledgeable about the liabilities of Demons.”

  “Could it have been someone who was embarrassed about being caught in the free park display? Mad enough to kill in revenge?”

  “We take pains to ensure that the marks never know of their roles in the park. They think they are getting free secret sex with extremely attractive guides, and very few complain. Some might even want video recordings, if they knew. In any event, Damne was not involved with that. He was a garden-variety statistician.”

  How could a person complain, without admitting how far he had gone? He was far more likely to keep the secret, and wait for the next free day. This was quite a system. I was trying to keep my eyes off the multiple screens, some of which were highly distracting in the guiltiest sort of way. This was a festival of porn.

  “What about girlfriends? Did he take anyone else’s girl?”

  “He was not the type. He was a very sensible Demon, not given to excesses. He had just one girlfriend at a time, and never cheated on that one despite that being common practice among our kind.”

  “All the same, I should interview his current girlfriend. I should also check out his residence for clues.”

  “You can do both together. Demesne is a live-in girlfriend; she is at his apartment now.”

  So she certainly had opportunity. “Thank you. Give us the address.”

  Damne’s apartment was a modest cellar a floor below a large apartment building, probably the cheapest available. We knocked on the door.

  A young pretty girl in a blouse and shorts opened the door. “You must be the Supe investigators. I’m Demesne.” She pronounced it di-meen, almost like demon, only with the second syllable accented.

  “Phil Were, PI.” I agreed. “And Nonce Witch.”

  “Yes. The Chief said you were investigating other murders.”

  “We suspect there is a serial killer operating. We have found no common threat, except that all victims are Supes. Vamp, Warlock, Were, and now Demon. It could be coincidence.”

  “Or somebody who just doesn’t like Supernaturals,” Nonce said.

  “How could someone even know who they are?” Demesne asked.

  “Another Supe could,” I said. “We can smell each other.”

  “Yes, of course. How can I assist you? I’m rather broken up right now; it happened just today. But if there is anything I can do to help identify his killer, I want to do it.”

  “First we must eliminate you as a suspect. I understand he was sleeping in his bottle when it was corked and frozen. You could have done it. I’m not saying you did, just that you need to be cleared.”

  “Of course.”

  “You need to do some magic in my presence, like changing form.”

  “Readily accomplished.” Demesne darkened, literally, turning smoky, including her clothing. The smoke formed into a roiling ball floating at head height. Then it elongated, became a swirling column, and coalesced back into the woman, this time wearing a dress. It occurred to me that Demonesses, like Witches or Vamps, could be a lot of fun on dates; no awkwardness about clothing.

  She was completely innocent of the murder. In fact she was a nice girl throughout. Her grief was genuine; she mainly wanted us to finish so she could weep in peace.

  “You’re clear,” I said. “Where were you when it happened?”

  “I was out shopping. I had been at it some time; there were crowds and lines, and I had to check several stores before I found what I wanted.” She smiled briefly. “I like to think I’m a savvy shopper; I shop the sales, but they have to be verified carefully, or you don’t get what you think. I had been out a couple hours before I felt the cold.”

  “You felt cold?”

  “There’s a rapport when you’re emotionally close, as we were. I think it’s a kind of extended telepathy with just the two people on the line. I knew it wasn’t me; I was jammed in a hot heaving throng. It had to be him. He was freezing, literally.” She wiped away a tear. “I headed home immediately, but the mass transit connections weren’t neat and it was over an hour before I got home. By then it was too late.”

  “Too late,” I echoed.

  “The feeling faded when he died. I didn’t know where he was. Distracted, I unloaded my groceries. I put the frozen pizza in the freezer. That was when I saw his bottle. I screamed.”

  “You took it out of the freezer?”

  “Of course I did, and I ripped out the cork. But there was nothing but stale air inside; he was gone.”

  I looked in the freezer. It was ordinary, with assorted frozen foods. Several were jumbled in the bottom, where they had evidently fallen when she scrambled to take out the bottle. One was marked with the number 90; I wasn’t sure what that was.

  “Where was his bottle ordinarily?”

  “It’s there now, on the mantle. When I opened it his defunct essence dissipated. There was nothing to do but return it to its place.” She indicated a small blue glass bottle.

  “Do you also sleep in a bottle?”

  “Oh, yes! Mine is right next to it.” She pointed to a matching pink glass bottle. “Sometimes we even slept together in the same bottle.” She blushed at the naughty confession. “Only I think now I’ll be afraid to use it, at least until the murderer is caught. I’ll have to sleep in solid form.” She grimaced. “Usually I do that only when in the arms of a man. At other times it’s too complicated.”

  “How could someone come in here unobserved?”

  “Oh, that would be no problem. We never locked the door. Anybody from the street could have come in.” She shuddered. “I’ll lock it now, of course.”

  I walked around the small apartment, trying to pick up on clues, but there really weren’t any. Indeed, anybody could have done it. Which led to motive. “Did Damne have any enemies?”

  “No, none. He was a nice guy. Even the mundanes liked him, not that they knew his nature. He contributed to building charities, we danced in the parties, just being regular people. It was fun.”

  I got an idea. “Did he have other girlfriends before you?”

  “Oh, yes. But mostly they found him dull.” Demesne smiled fleetingly. “I happen to like dull. But other Demonesses soon got bored and left him.”

  “He dated only Demonesses?”

  “Well, he wasn’t turned on by mundane women, and of course he could never have slept in the bottle with one of them present. So he stayed with his own kind.” She paused. “Except for one. A—a Were, I believe. What was her name? Cue. No, that’s not it, quite. Kue. Something like that. ”

  My jaw dropped emotionally. “Queue?”

  “Yes! Queue Were. I understand she was nice, but there was something about her. He said every so often when she let her guard down, she was eerily cold.”

  Could there be two Queue Weres? “Do you know what she looked like?”

  “Yes. We met once, before they broke up. She was tall, attractive, buxom, with midnight black hair and black pupils. She seemed very self possessed. Frankly I was surprised when he broke it off; she was much m
ore impressive than I am, and I never thought I had a chance.”

  This sounded exactly like the Queue I knew. “Do you know her Were-form?”

  “No. Damne mentioned once that it was an odd one and he didn’t like it, so she never Wered when she was with him.”

  It had to be her. So the Demon had dumped her; could that be motive to kill him? “Did he say why he broke up with her?”

  “Not specifically. Just that she was dangerously unstable and he wasn’t easy with it.” Demesne made a moue. “I think she was too smart for him. She was very intelligent. I have no problem that way. I guess he prefers his women average.”

  “Some men do,” I said. “Smart women make them feel diminished.”

  “A woman can never be too dumb,” Nonce said with part of a smile. “It’s plain that Phil is smarter than I am.”

  “Of course,” Demesne agreed. They both knew better, of course.

  I did not argue the case. “How long ago did they part company?”

  “Three months. I know, because next day Damne invited me to move in with him, and I leaped at the opportunity. I kept track of the time because I was so thrilled to be with him.”

  “Did Queue resent you?” Nonce asked.

  “I don’t know. I never saw her again. But she had to know that I didn’t break up their connection. I just was there when my chance came.”

  “Would she have been angry with him about the breakup?” I asked.

  “Funny thing there,” Demesne said. “All I knew of it was what he told me, and he didn’t say much. But he did express surprise that she took it so well. He had thought she might throw a tantrum, throw things, and all, but all she said was ‘If that’s the way you feel, I will get out of your life.’ And she did. She cleared out her stuff that day and left. He never saw her again.”

  I had one more thing to nail. “I need to know the exact timing of this murder. When someone entered this apartment and put the bottle in the freezer.”

  “That’s easy. I started home the moment I felt the cold, and made it in just over an hour. So it had to have been then, an hour before I found his bottle.”

  “Which was—”

  “Noon. He was murdered at noon, even if he didn’t die immediately.” She made a little laugh that sounded more like a sob. “Hot part of the day, and he was freezing! Isn’t that funny?”