The Night Beat

as he looked around the cemetery. “I see no cars here.”
    I sniffed and saw Ralph’s ears perk up. “There will be cars here shortly, and we need a decent one because we’re about to infiltrate the church where all the money goes. We need to fit in.”
    “What’s wrong with our car?” Jack asked.
    “Other than it screaming ‘undercover police’? Nothing.”
    “I’m not going to human,” Ralph said flatly.
    “Yes, yes, Ralph, I know. Werewolves Wear Their Pride. Got it.” I shifted to human and rubbed my forehead. “Fine. You’re a purebred wolfhound. Make sure you look all friendly and such, wolfhounds love people. But not for dinner.”
    He gave me a betrayed look. “You’re going to put a leash on me?”
    “If only I could. No. I’m going to brag about how you’re so well trained you can follow my verbal commands and hand signals. Unless I decide to just lock you in the car with the window rolled down a tiny bit.”
    “Funny.” Ralph ruffled his fur. “But, undercover work isn’t always enjoyable.”
    “No kidding.” I started walking towards the sounds and the smells. There was an early morning funeral going on. And happily, it was attended by several people with very nice cars.
    There was a pretty decent-sized crowd for this time of day. They seemed to cover all walks of life, too, if the clothing was any indication. Not all the cars were nice -- some had decidedly seen better driving days. I took a closer look at the crowd. They were in front of a set of big flower displays but not by any graves.
    We took care to amble and look reverent. No rushing about furtively -- that tells everyone you’re trying not to be seen. Look like you don’t mind being seen and no one pays any attention. I had to stop paying attention to the mourners and look for a suitable vehicle to “borrow”.
    One of the cars parked the farthest away was a Mercedes S-Class. I was good with that. No one in the good parts of town would question anyone’s right to be there if they arrived in an S-Class.
    The Gods and Monsters were on our side. The driver had left the keys in the ignition. Jack slid into the driver’s seat, I took shotgun, and the others got into the back. “Ralph, try not to rip the upholstery.”
    “I only rip what I want to,” he muttered.
    “Good boy.”
    “You’re not funny, Vic.”
    Jack chuckled. “Yeah, she is. However, I don’t think we should be stealing cars.”
    “It’s in the execution of our duties.”
    “It’s grand theft auto.”
    “No problem, I’ll drive.”
    Jack sighed. “No, let’s not add manslaughter, being-slaughter, destruction of public property, and reckless endangerment to the list.” He started the car and we backed away. No one seemed to notice we were stealing a hugely expensive car, though I figured that wouldn’t last long. As soon as we were out of sight of the funeral, Jack sped up and out of the cemetery. “So, you think we’re right about the Little Church?”
    “Yeah. And the Prince and the minions love a good show. Plus, think about it -- worldwide, televised audience. Great way to influence the masses, and not just the masses in Prosaic City. I’d say the odds are just too good that Jerry’s father is Johnson, and that the minions are with him in some way.”
    “I agree,” Sexy Cindy offered. “His mom would come in a fancy car like this one. They make some real money at that church, I’ve heard.” From what I’d heard they made so much money that the I.R.S. always took a personal interest. However, Johnson was found clean, year after year. The possibility that he was a truly good man with a loser son was at least as good as the option that he was a manipulative scumbag who used the idea of God to control the masses and steal their money in a legal way. It wouldn’t matter to the minions -- on the Prince’s side already, turned to the Side of Evil, or destroyed, that was their goal no matter what or who.
    We wound our way through Prosaic City in some of the nicest luxury ever. “I could get used to this.”
    “I hope we don’t get busted for grand theft auto,” Jack muttered.
    “We’re cops. Taken in pursuit of a criminal.”
    “We stole the car, Vic.”
    “Details, details.” I was ready to go to sleep and the car was comfy enough to do it. I heard Freddy snoring softly behind me. My eyes closed.
    They opened because a wet nose was in my ear. “Wake up,” Ralph whispered.
    I was going to say something nasty but