Sees through supernatural disguises

Murphy wasn't listening to that last part, because she'd turned her head sharply to one side, blue eyes narrowing as she focused on a man who had emerged from a conference room doorway and was slipping down the hall.
And Mouse let out a low growl.
"Who's that?" I asked Murphy.
"Darby Crane," Murphy said.
"Ah," I said. "The horror movie director."
Mouse growled again. Murphy and he started after Crane.
Why fight the inevitable? I started walking before Mouse pulled my arms out of their sockets. "Hey, howsabout we go talk to him?"
"You think?" Murphy said.
"Take him. I'll back you up."

Proven Guilty Chapter 21, Page 146-147


Crane's eyes narrowed, studying me, his hand still sticking out. "And who is this?"
"Harry Dresden," I said.
Crane went still. Not still like people go still, where you can see them blinking and swaying slightly and adjusting their balance. He went still like corpses and plastic dressing dummies, and said nothing.
As I am a highly experienced investigator, I drew the conclusion that he recognized the name.
Froggy made a gulping sound in his throat, bulging eyes switching to me. I thought he shrunk in on himself a little, as if suddenly losing an inch or two of height-or tensing to crouch.
He recognized it, too. I felt famous.
Mouse let out a relaxed ripsaw of a growl, so low that it could hardly be heard.
Froggy's eyes went to the dog and widened. He shot a look at Crane.
Everyone froze like that for a moment. Crane and Murphy still smiled their professional smiles. Froggy looked froglike. I went for bored. But I felt my heart speed up as my instincts told me that violence was a hell of a lot closer to the surface than it looked.
"There are witnesses here, Dresden," Crane said. "You can't move on me. It would be seen."
I tilted my head and pursed my lips thoughtfully. "You're right. And you're a public figure. Which means this is a great opportunity for advertising. I haven't been on TV since the last time I was on the Larry Fowler Show:"
His expression changed then, that cold sneer coming out of the background to twist his lips. "You wouldn't dare reveal yourself to the world."
I snorted at him and said, "Go read the yellow pages in your room. I'm in there. Under 'Wizards.' "
Froggy gulped again.
"You're insane," Crane said.
"Wizards is the kway-zee-est people," I confirmed. "And you don't look very much like a Darby."
Crane's chin lifted, his eyes glittering with some sort of sudden approval. I had no idea why. Dammit, I hate it when someone knows more than me about exactly how deep a hole I'm digging under myself. "No? And what does a Darby look like?"
"I confess, the only one I ever saw was in that leprechaun movie with Sean Connery," I said. "Call it an instinct."
He pursed his lips and fell silent. We all enjoyed another two minutes of wordless, increasingly tense standoff.
Then Murphy said, deadpan, "Say, ten o'clock for that drink, Darby? The hotel's lounge? We'd hate to keep you from your busy schedule."
He glanced from Murphy to me and back, and then lowered his hand. He gave her a little bow of the head, then turned and walked away, back toward the crowd.
Froggy watched us for a three count, then turned and hurried after his boss, checking frequently over his shoulder.
I exhaled slowly, and leaned against the wall. Adrenaline without an outlet is a funny thing. The long muscles in my legs twitched and flexed without me telling them too, and the lights in the hallway suddenly seemed a little too bright. My bruised head twinged some more.
Murphy just stood there, not moving, but I could hear her consciously regulating her breathing, keeping it smooth.
Mouse sat down and looked bored, but his ears kept twitching in the direction the pair had vanished.
"Well," Murphy said a second later, keeping her voice low. "What was that all about?"
"We almost started a fight," I said.
"I noticed that," Murphy said, her tone patient. "But why?"
"He's spooky," I murmured.
She frowned, looking over her shoulder and up at me. "What is he?"
"I told you. Spooky." I shook my head. "Other than that I don't know."
She blinked. "What do you mean, you don't know?"
"I don't know," I said. "Something about him hit me wrong. When he offered you his hand, it seemed... off. Dangerous."
Murphy shook her head. "I figured he was going to go for the hold-and-caress routine," she said. "It's a little bit insulting, but it isn't all that dangerous."
"Unless maybe it is," I said.
"You're sure he's from your side of things?" she asked.
"Yeah. He recognized me. He started pulling out the standard Old World reasons for avoiding public confrontation. And Mouse didn't like him-or his lawyer, either."
"Vampire?" she asked.
"Could be," I said, chewing on my lip. "Could be a lot of things. Hell, could be human, for that matter. Without knowing more we shouldn't make any assumptions."

Proven Guilty Chapter 21
, Page 150-152