Harry is showing emotions that aren’t dickery!

Relax, Harry, I told myself. Calm down. Breathe in and out, and just keep doing it. See? You aren’t dead. Dead people don’t breathe like that. You aren’t Spike, all torn to pieces on the floor. You don’t have any bullet holes in you, either. You’re alive, and Murphy’s all right, and you don’t have to look at that eyeless face anymore.

But then it gets weird:

But I could see the torn body, still, behind my eyelids. I could smell the ghastly stench of his
opened innards. I could remember the blood, sticky on the dusty floor, congealing, thick with tiny
flecks of drywall. I tasted bile in my throat, and fought to keep from throwing up.
I wanted to scream, to run, to wave my arms and kick something until I felt better. I could
understand Agent Benn’s reaction, almost, if she had been working a string of killings like the one I’d
just seen. You can’t stare at that much blood for very long without starting to see more of it
everywhere else.

The sight of blood is very upsetting therefore more blood yay?

Anyway, last chapter Harry was all “no don’t argue!!!” so this chapter Murphy has to admit that actually she wasn’t supposed to be there despite having permission from the local police to totally be there and that Denton was actually totally right to throw them out.

Things continue to worsen from there:
I closed my hands around the keys. “Just sit down and relax for a while, Murph. We need to talk.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Harry,” she said.
“This is the thanks I get for saving your life. Twice, now. You’re going to hold out on me.”

I think we need to update our algorithms for this. Someone who does something for you deserves to be paid back. Someone who does something for you intending to get that payment does not. Harry’s in a grey area where he presumably did no actual calculation while saving her, but he’s too quick to throw it in her face for me to feel she’s actually got an obligation here, plus he’s constantly a dick so her putting up with it is already being deducted from whatever balance we’re talking about.

Harry then recaps the whole “she’s still mad about that thing I did last book where I refused to explain anything”.

In the intervening months, she’d called me in for work several times, and I’d given the best service I could. But it had been cool between us. Professional. Maybe it was time to try to bridge that gap again.

Urgggggggggh.

Poor Murphy was probably like “oh thank christ he’s finally being professional” but little does she know he’s all “oh no we’re being professional how can I get back to our special low grade sexual harassment relationship”.

Harry proceeds to whine about how he knows he didn’t explain but she must know he’s not bad because he helped her!

“That’s not the point.”
“No? Then what is?”
“The point, Dresden, is that you lied to me. You refused to give me information that I needed to do my job. When I bring you in on one of my investigations, I am trusting you.

This is a valid professional reason that is ruined by it going into emotions all over the place:

I don’t just go around trusting people. Never have.” She took a grip on the steering wheel, her knuckles whitening. “Less than ever, now.”
I winced. That stung. What’s worse, she was in the right.

I’m not sure to be annoyed Murphy’s doing this or annoyed that she might be doing it because it’s the only possible way to make Harry feel he did something wrong.

She does give a nice rant:

Her blue eyes fixed on me with a glare that made me lean back against the car door. “I am not your daughter, Dresden,” she said, in a very soft, calm voice. “I am not some porcelain doll on a shelf. I’m a police officer. I catch the bad guys and I put their asses away, and if it comes down to it, I take a bullet so that some poor housewife or CPA doesn’t have to.” She got her gun out of its shoulder holster, checked the ammo and the safety, and replaced it. “I don’t need your protection.”

Which Harry misses the point of:

“Murphy, wait,” I said hastily. “I didn’t do it to piss you off. I’m your friend. Always have been.”

Murphy says WAS her friend, which just makes me sad because how hard up for a friend do you have to be to consider the guy last book your friend?

Harry suddenly realizes that I hadn’t tried to look at things from her point of view. and tells us the stunning revelation that Murphy wasn’t a wizard. Yeah. That would be a thing you should’ve thought of.

She had almost no knowledge of the world of the supernatural, the world that the great religion of Science had been failing to banish since the Renaissance.

That isn’t how science works and you damn well know it.

She had nothing to use against some of the things she encountered, no weapon but the knowledge that I was able to give her—and last spring I had taken that weapon away from her, left her defenseless and unprepared. It must have been hell for Murphy, to daily place herself at odds with things that didn’t make any sense, things that made forensics teams just shake their heads.

The problem is this is quickly sliding back to how poor Murphy needs Harry to protect her. It’s not that he let her down, or even that he failed to give her something, it’s that without him she’s helpless.

Harry reminds us that her job is dealing with vampire killings and stuff without saying the word vampire, because somehow people forgot these things existed despite them continuing to exist and eat people.

and some of the statistics I’d put together indicated that things were only getting worse, not better.

Here’s what could’ve been used to make sense of that, the idea that vampires messing with humans has only recently become an issue again, but Harry makes it clear they’ve been around the whole time while condescending at us muggles for not believing in them.

With that in mind, there’s nothing particularly ominous about this, because the obvious explanation is that the less people believe in them, the easier it is to prey on people, therefore you’ll see higher and higher rates of crime. The core problem that it makes no sense for humans to ignore the fairies everywhere remains.

In fairness, we’re not a wholly rational people. You will see societies fucking up now and again, but it’s rare. It’s so rare that our current model for dealing with different cultures is to try to figure out why they’re doing something because it’s probably for a good reason even if no one remembers what it is. And a lot of the dumber setups we invent seem to tie to things like overpopulation, where there’s no longer any real pressure to keep people alive so sure, burn women for knowing medicine why the fuck not. Otherwise, information loss requires a period where people don’t or can’t make use of it, and really needs a following period where people are too busy with day to day survival to try to regain it. Otherwise people regain the knowledge pretty fast as soon as their stupidity gets widespread enough for consequences, like the vaccination thing, which is currently violently correcting itself.

Harry then recaps that Murphy has kept her position longer than the rest because she knows sometimes it’s vampires, because the setting itself continues to frantically pretend it can stay in a superposition of people knowing and not knowing about magic. Either the place is designed for the vampire killings to be sanitized for the public or it’s not.

And he apologizes. Not that it means much.

She gave a little shiver, finally, and shook her head. “All right,” she said, “but if I bring you in on this, Harry, I want your word. No secrets, this time. Not to protect me. Not for anything.” She stared out the window, her features softened in the light of the moon and distant streetlights, more gentle.
“Murphy,” I said, “I can’t promise that. How can you ask me to—”

God he’s so awful.

Murphy responds by wrenching his fingers so he finally lets go of his keys, and wow, let’s all just go back and realize this entire conversation involved him taking her keys and refusing to let her drive until she agreed to talk to him. It wasn’t that he just grabbed it originally to get her attention but let go once the conversation began, nope, he’s had them in a death grip the whole time because he decides when and if women get to drive.

Apparently being caused physical pain makes Harry decide she’s the alpha man, because then he says okay he’ll tell her everything he promises. Let’s see how long he actually keeps to that. And she says that she’ll tell him what she knows in return, though I think she knows it’s unlikely to be reciprocated.

“I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you because I need every bit of help I can get. Because if we don’t nail this thing, this werewolf, we’re going to have another truckload of corpses on our hands this month. And,” she sighed, “because if we don’t, I’m going to be out of a job. And you’ll probably end up in jail.”

See, as disheartening as it might be for Murphy to get demoted or however this works, she might actually have a better chance at working hard and getting another promotion to any department that’s not this one than continuing to slog through what amounts to punishment detail. And we all know Cold Metal Lion won’t let his pet wizard go to jail, if only because he needs Harry to help out in this cats vs dogs spat he has going on.

Next chapter,

“Jail?” I said. “Jail? Hell, Murphy. Were you planning on mentioning this to me anytime soon?”

NOW YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS

Because Harry is an idiot/the author thinks we’re idiots, Harry goes on to ask why she didn’t call him earlier despite the fact the press was obviously breathing down the police’s neck about hiring him and the only non-charlatan thing on his record is that he might instead be a hitman for the mob. That’s way too subtle for Harry/our brains to handle, so instead Murphy explains now that she’s been under investigation because they were worried she’d been working with Tiger Tiger Chilling Dark along with Harry.

“And if you’d have tried to tell me about it, it would have been throwing gasoline on the fire.” I rubbed at my forehead. And it would have gotten me looked at harder, too, by whoever was investigating Murphy. She had been protecting me. I hadn’t even considered what those rumors Marcone had spread might do to anyone besides myself. Way to go, Harry.

Harry’s still bad but significantly less than last book.

Of course, the weird thing is this is now getting back to the idea that it’s okay to not tell people things. Running to Harry seconds after the investigation started as if to get their stories straight might’ve been a gas on fire thing, sure, but it seems she probably could’ve mentioned it at some point.

“One thing you’re not is stupid, Dresden,” she confirmed. “A little naive, sometimes, but never stupid.

No, definitely stupid.

She explains that there’s no evidence but everyone hates her and assumes she did it, so as soon as anything goes wrong she’s out.

Then she explains that Denton might look like a jerk, but at least he isn’t convinced that I’m dirty. He’ll play fair.” but in that case I’m not sure why you couldn’t resolve this like adults. It’s understandable he wouldn’t want you looking over the scene without him, but you should’ve been able to negotiate Harry existing in the same proximity – at least until Harry does something like steal a glass shard, but Harry should have some mundane magician’s training, so I assume he can palm bloody glass like a pro. And if you can’t, then maybe it’s worth revising your “play fair” bit. Especially when even playing along with his accidental gunshot story doesn’t seem to have given you any brownie points with the guy, suggesting he is in fact a jerk.

I noticed the headlights of another car drift across a couple lanes of traffic to drop into the slow lane behind us. I didn’t say anything about it to Murphy, but kept a corner of my eye on the car.

Welp, so that’s how long his promise is worth – until the first time he sees something he could point out to her.

She explains that some gang guys are ripped up and they figured animals, and can I just say I am deeply disappointed in fictional Chicago for not assuming the cause of death was a rival gang trained dogs to tear their opponents apart. It’s like why even have gangs if not for stupid young men killing each other in bizarre ways? Chicago has dogfighting problems, and modern gang dogfighting is already ignoring all the traditions of raising the dogs in such a way that they only attack other dogs due to that involving effort. Even if there’s logistical problems in actually pulling it off, someone will at least try.

“The next night, it was a little old lady walking past Washington Park. Killed the same way. And it just wasn’t right, you know?

That actually seems to exactly fit the idea of poorly trained dogs being used to kill some guys. The people involved have taught them attack but not get back in the car, then they attack another person a day latter.

She says their forensics wasn’t up for it, and so she was the one who called for the FBI, only for the FBI to come back with “I dunno they’re like, wolves, but not wolves, you know?” and so she realized forensics was actually useless but now she was stuck with the FBI and the official guess was people trying to fake a wolf attack.

Have you considered telling them the truth? That we might be dealing with a werewolf here?”
Murphy sneered. “Not a chance. They hire conservatives for jobs at the bureau. People who don’t believe in ghosts and goblins and all that crap out there that I come to you about.

As opposed to your department, who don’t believe in ghosts and goblins and all that crap which is why they want you to stop coming to him about it?

Then she says she did call him but he wasn’t in his office right then, so it isn’t even that she was ignoring him for a whole month, it was that Harry is really difficult to get into contact with but prefers to blame everyone else.

More random people die the next few nights, and the final one is weird because he’s inside (sort of, parking garage) and in a different part of town.

He and John Marcone are business partners in some development projects up in the Northwest.”

I don’t know if I would say Marcone has the worst luck to keep getting involved in this or the best luck to keep escaping any direct contact.

Meanwhile Murphy’s about to get canned and the only thing that’ll save her is solving this case. Except she can’t solve the case by saying it’s werewolves, and therefore if it’s werewolves, no one she brings in will fit what the rest of the department is looking for, therefore getting Harry to help her find werewolves won’t help.

Honestly, it’d make more sense to have her plan be to fully hand off the case to the FBI while dealing with the werewolves off the books and just moving on to the next situation careerwise. If we want a subplot about her getting fired, she can explain that the longer she’s near this high-profile case, the worse things get for her in terms of office politics, and that’s why showing Harry this one crime scene is all she can do and why she hoped to get him in and out before anyone even realized they were there. This book can have the tension be that instead of Murphy chasing him around trying to get him to do his work, he’s chasing her around trying to get her to let him see other bits of evidence he needs.

“You ever get any blood or hair from the scenes?” I asked.
“Yeah, some,” Murphy said.
“What about saliva?”
Murph frowned at me.
“Saliva. It would be in the bite wounds.”
She shook her head. “If they’ve found it, no one has said anything. Besides, all the samples won’t do us a lot of good without a suspect to match them against.”
“It won’t do you a lot of good,” I corrected her. “Something left blood on the window when it came through. Maybe that’ll turn something up.”

This looks like a random exposition moment. Harry has no reason to ask the question if he’s already got blood, and the saliva thing is a weird sidetrack.

He then says he’s not actually up on his werewolves and needs to study before telling her the details. There’s no sign he’s lying, either! Yet.

“Jesus, Harry. I can’t believe I’m sitting here talking to you about werewolves killing people in downtown Chicago.” She turned her face to me, her eyes anxious. “Tell me I’m not going nuts.”
I got out of the car, but leaned down to the window. “I don’t think you’re going nuts, Murph. I don’t know. Maybe the FBI is right. Maybe it’s not werewolves. Crazy things happen sometimes.”

What?

Even when it’s not like actual gaslighting, he seems to just enjoy being as unsupportive and headfucky as he can.

Oh, also the car has still followed them all the way back to the pub, and now it drives off but goes in the opposite direction. Also:
I
The driver, a striking woman with shaggy, dark brown hair, peppered with grey, did not turn to look at me as she went past.

Which means I believe there are currently zero described women who Harry does not think are bangable.

I was feeling guilty and a little queasy still. It was my fault Murphy had gotten in trouble. I had put her in the middle of extremely questionable circumstances by not telling her what was going on last spring. The pressure she was under now was my responsibility.
I have what might be considered a very out-of-date and chauvinist attitude about women.

MOTHERFUCKER

I like to treat women like ladies. I like to open doors for them, pay for the meal when I’m on a date, bring flowers, draw out their seat for them—all that sort of thing. I guess I could call it an attitude of chivalry, if I thought more of myself. Whatever you called it, Murphy was a lady in distress. And since I had put her there, it only seemed right that I should get her out of trouble, too.

So to sum up:

If Murphy was not enough of a lady, he wouldn’t care about helping her out of the trouble he caused for her, and if this wasn’t totally his fault, he wouldn’t care about helping her even if she was a lady.

That wasn’t the only reason I wanted to stop the killings. Seeing Spike torn up like that had scared the hell out of me.

As we saw last book, Harry requires personal survival to motivate him, not the wellbeing of others.

He does get upset enough to have a little panic attack in his car, though:

I did not want to get eaten by an animal, chewed up by something with a lot of sharp teeth. The very thought of that made me curl up on my car’s seat and hug my knees to my chest, an awkward position considering my height and the comparatively cramped confines of the Beetle.

So that’s a nice departure from the macho man bullshit.

Of course, he then goes into some noblesse oblige about how the victims were torn apart by something that regular people shouldn’t have to face. and I’m a wizard. That means I have power, and power and responsibility go hand in hand. even though he just explained his actual motivations have nothing to do with that.

Anyway, he finally finally finally decides to do the blood spell.

I could find the killer tonight, simply let my magic lead me to him, or them. But it would have to be now. The blood was almost dry, and once it was, I would have a hell of a lot more trouble using it.

It’s almost dry, of course, because it’s been sitting in his pocket the whole time.

Murphy would be royally pissed if I took off without her. She would probably assume that I had intended to follow the trail tonight, purposely leaving her out of the loop. But if I didn’t follow the trail, I’d lose the chance to stop the killer before another night fell.

Note that Harry does not say that she’d be wrong to assume it (also, it’s not really an assumption so much as a statement of fact). He only says that, after he does not mention he could do this despite discussing blood and the fact he has it, and after she then left, he’s put himself in a position where it’s do it now without her or not at all.

It didn’t take me long to make up my mind. In the end, saving lives was more important than keeping Murphy from being pissed off at me.

It is impressive how the author manages the truth, isn’t it? He knows Harry has no actual explanation for keeping Murphy out of the loop, so he just has Harry do it, then say it’s awful how Murphy will now get mad about it when he’s just trying to save people.

Also, we learn that he’s got all his stuff in his car, including his shield bracelet because of course you wouldn’t wear a protective charm in daily life just because there are no drawbacks to doing so whatsoever.