If this had been a human, I’d have said he was strung out – needing a fix of something and needing it bad. But supes don’t do drugs. Give or take the fucking goblins.

“How ya doin?” I said. “We’ve met before, although we weren’t introduced. I’m Detective Sergeant Markowski, and this is Detective Sefchik.”

“Yeah, hi,” the elf said. His right hand actually moved a couple of inches from the shackle, as if he’d intended to shake hands. I guess he bore no ill will for what happened in Jerry’s Diner.

The fact his right hand was shackled meant he was a leftie, like a lot of elves are. We always leave their pen hand free, in case they feel like writing a confession.

“You’ve been advised of your rights,” I said. “I know that, since I’m the one who did it. You understand that you don’t have to talk to us without a lawyer present.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I know. It’s cool.”

“Your name’s Thorontur,” I said.

“Yeah.”

“People call you ‘Thor’?”

“Yeah – how’d you know?”

“Lucky guess,” I said. “Mind if we call you that? It’s less of a mouthful than ‘Thorontur’.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. Listen, dude, you gotta–”

“Don’t call me ‘dude’. It’s ‘Detective’,” I said.

“OK, sorry. Thing is, I’m feelin’ real bad, OK? I gotta see a doc, have him give me somethin’.”

“We might be able to help you with that,” Sefchik said. “But, we call a doctor, you know, first thing he’s gonna ask is what’s wrong with the patient. So, how’re you feeling bad, exactly? You got the flu, or something?”

“Naw, it ain’t that. I need some meds, you know?”

A junkie. The little bastard was acting just like a human going through withdrawal. And that just wasn’t possible.

“What kind of medication are we talkin’ about, Thor?” I said. “You under a doctor’s care right now?”

“No, dude,” he said. “It’s just that–”

My right palm slapped the table, hard. “I told you not to call me ‘dude’. I’m not gonna tell you again.”

Thor jumped a little, which is what I’d intended. “Sorry, uh, Detective,” he said. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. It’s just how I talk, you know?”

“Not in here, you don’t,” I said.

I was acting like a real hardass because I wanted psychological domination over this guy. Something very fucked up was going on here, and I wanted to know everything about it. Everything.

“Yeah, OK, Detective. Whatever you want.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that, Thor. Because what I want to know is what’s up with you, and I want it without a lot of bullshit.”

I sat back in my chair to give him a little space.

“You claim you need some kind of medication,” I said. “What exactly is it you think you need – and why?”

“Hell, I don’t know the scientific name, or nothing, man – uh, Detective. We call it Slide.”

“We? Who’s we?”

“Me and Car. And some other dudes we know.”

“Car’s the guy who was with you in the diner tonight? The one standing on the table?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“What his real name?”

“Caranthir Helyanwe. But most of us just call him Car.”

“So, you and ‘Car’ and your buddies take this stuff called ‘Slide’,” I said, “and now you’re hooked on it?”

Drug-addicted elves. Shit.

“Nah, I ain’t hooked on nothing. I can quit whenever I want.”

The elf even talked like a fucking junkie.

“OK, you can quit whenever you want,” Sefchik said. “So why don’t you just quit it now?”

Thor licked his lips. “It ain’t that I need it, OK? But I ain’t had any in a while. I just like the stuff – that’s all.”

“A while – how long ago is that, exactly?” I asked. “When did you last have some of this Slide?”

The tongue ran over his cracked lips again. “I dunno. Couple days ago, I guess.”

“And you like this stuff so much,” Sefchik said, “that you and your buddy were willing to stick up a fucking diner just to get money for some?”

Another shrug. “Slide ain’t cheap.”

“What’s it do for you, anyway?” I asked him.

He looked at me as if I’d just spoken in Polish. “Say what?”

“He means,” Sefchik said, “How do you feel when you’re using it?”

“It hits you in, like two stages, man… uh, Detective. At first, it’s like fireworks are goin’ off inside your head, you know? There’s flashes of light, all different colors – some that ain’t even been invented yet.”

“How long does that usually last?” Sefchik asked.

“Oh, m… Detective, I don’t fuckin’ know. I never looked at my watch – hell, I probably couldn’t have seen it, anyway, with all the colors goin’ off inside my head.”

“So, there’s two stages,” I said. “What happens after the flashing lights?”

“After that, you just feel gooood, you know? All relaxed and happy and shit. It’s like you just got laid, but about ten times better.”

“And how long does that go on for?” I asked him.

“Like I already told you–”

“I know,” I said. “You don’t check your watch. But give me a ballpark estimate – an hour, three hours, half a day, all day?”

He wiped a shaky hand over his face. “I dunno, maybe three hours, could be a little more. But that’s about right, I guess.”

Sefchik frowned. “How much per pop?”

“Twenty-five bucks.”

“How do you take it?” I asked him.

Thor turned his sweaty face toward me. “Huh?”

I will not hit the suspect in the head. I will not hit the suspect in the head.

“Do you snort the shit, inject it, smoke it, stuff it up your ass – what?” I said.

“Me and Car mostly smoke it,” he said. “But I know a couple guys who say snortin’ gives you a bigger blast. I dunno; I never tried it that way. Look – can you guys, uh, Detectives help me out here? I need to see a doc pretty bad. I feel like I’m gonna jump out of my fuckin’ skin or something.”

I got to my feet. “Detective Sefchik and I are gonna step outside for a couple of minutes.”

Sefchik stood up too and followed me to the door.

“You guys gonna call the doctor?” Thor asked. The need in his voice was unmistakable.

“We’ll think about it,” I said.

“Cause if you ain’t, then I want a fuckin’ lawyer in here! He’ll get me to a doc. This is fucking inhumane treatment! I got my–”

Then we were in the hall, and I closed the door behind us, cutting off Thor in mid-rant. Sefchik looked at me, his face a study in disbelief.

“Elf junkies?” he said. “Is this asshole fucking kidding?”

“Does he look like he’s kidding?”

Sefchik shook his head a couple of times. “I knew fucking gobs could get hooked on meth, and that’s bad enough – but elves? What’s next – werewolves shooting heroin? Vamps on speed? Makes my head hurt, just tryin’ to think about it.”

“Yeah, I know just what you mean.”

“So, why’d you take a break?” he asked me. “Just want to vent a little? Not that I blame you.”

“Nothing wrong with venting,” I said. “But the main reason is I have to make a phone call, and I don’t want my man Thor listening in on it.”

I pushed a button on my speed dial, and a few seconds later Karl’s voice said in my ear, “Hey, Stan.”

“Hey,” I said. “Where are you?”

“We’re still in the waiting room at the ER. You know how it is – they give you a quick once-over, and if you’re not actually dying, you can go sit and wait for a few hours. I figure an elf’s busted wrist isn’t real high on their priority list tonight.”

“There’s a couple of things I’d like you to do while you’re down there.”

“Like what?”

“When they finally get your little buddy into a treatment room, make sure the docs get a blood sample and send it to the lab.”

“Lookin’ for what, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Anything that shouldn’t be in an elf’s blood, I guess.”

“I’ll take care of it. What else you need?”

“Since you’re gonna be waiting a while, why don’t you ask your pal about something called Slide.”