false info

I prompted Mort. “Dresden wants me to tell you that he hadn’t intended to do anything dramatic. It just sort of worked out that way.”
The wolves and the man in the heavy coat had stepped closer, listening. Murphy clenched and unclenched her fist several times. Then she said, “How many vampires did Agent White and I have to kill before we escaped the FBI office last year?”
I felt another surge of fierce triumph. That was Murph, always thinking. I told Mort the answer.
“He says he doesn’t know who Agent White is, but that you and Tilly took out one of them in a stairwell on your way out of the building.” Mort tilted his head, listening to me, and then said, “And he also wonders if you still feel that taking up the Sword of Faith would represent a . . . a rebound career.”
Murphy’s face by now was almost entirely bloodless. I could almost visibly see her eyes becoming more sunken, her features overtaken by a grey and weary sagging. She leaned against the doorway to her house, her arms sliding across her own stomach, as if she were trying to prevent her innards from spilling out.
“Ms. Murphy,” Mort said gently. “I’m terribly sorry to be the one to bear this particular news. But Dresden’s shade says that he needs to talk to you. That people are in danger.”
“Yeah,” Murphy said, her voice numb. “That’s new.” She looked up at Mort and said, “Bleed for me.”
It was a common test among those savvy to the supernatural world but lacking any of its gifts. There are a lot of inhuman things that can pretend to be human—but relatively few of them have natural-looking blood. It wasn’t a perfect test, by any means, but it was a lot better than nothing.
Mort nodded calmly and produced a straight pin from his coat pocket. He hadn’t even blinked at the request. Apparently, in the current climate, the test had become much more widely used. I wondered if Murphy had been responsible for it.
Morty pricked the tip of his left thumb with the pin, and it welled with a round drop of ruby blood. He showed it to Murphy, who nodded.
“It’s cold out here. You’d better come inside, Mr. Lindquist.”


Ghost Story Chapter 10, Page 104-105