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Small Town Monsters

9

Kurt and Clay stared at the photograph for a long moment. It didn’t work; Kurt wouldn’t put the man who he had visited, the man who went by Artemus Slade, at any older than 85. “There has to be a mistake,” Kurt said and brought the photograph closer for a better look. “It’s him; that’s Artemus Slade.” Kurt pointed at the man in the photograph.

“What did the old man have to say?” Clay asked.

“He said Danny was his son and confirmed that Danny had committed the murders.”

“If you ask me, they did the world a favor when they put this one in the chair.” Clay said.

Kurt looked up at Clay suddenly, as if the boy had struck a nerve. “He said one other thing.”

“Yea, what’s that?”

“He said you can’t kill a werewolf by shocking it. You have to separate its brain from its heart.”

“So he thinks Danny is still alive?”

“He’s crazy, but smarter than I expected.” Kurt went silent for a thoughtful moment. “Listen, I need you clearheaded. Don’t buy into the madness. It’s like your mom always told you; there’s no such thing as monsters. And by no means discuss this case with the likes of Larry Uriarte or Buren Peoples.”

“You have to admit, it sounds pretty menacing.”

“I don’t care how it sounds. I don’t want you to say the word werewolf outside this office. Remember, no crime has been committed.”

“Then why are you so defensive?” Clay asked.

Kurt paused and looked over his dark framed reading glasses into Clay’s eyes. “No crime has been committed; that is our story. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now go bust some speeders.”

Clay smiled and snapped off a mocking solute.

After Clay left the station, Kurt flipped through Artemus’s leather bound book again. He stopped on a ghastly illustration of a scholarly looking man with a passive expression. The man