Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Call

by P. T. Dilloway

  The necklace had yet to pick anything up. They had driven through the Historical District and the Trenches without any luck. Becky supposed they could drive through the whole city and not find anything, not if Marie and her friend had taken off somewhere else.

  When Becky stopped at a light, Sylvia said, “Give me the necklace.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Just hand it here, would you?”

  Becky took off the necklace and handed it to the witch, who set it on the dashboard. She gasped as Sylvia took out the knife from her belt. Without a pause to aim, she brought the knife down on the tooth and cleaved it in half. “What did you do that for?”

  “Now we can double our search radius,” Sylvia said.

  “Is it going to work like that?”

  “It shouldn’t matter. Any part of the tooth is sensitive to magic.”

  “Oh.”

  Sylvia got out of the car. The light turned green; cars honked at Becky to move. Sylvia flipped them off and then leaned down to the window. “I’ll go check down by Executive Plaza. You go through the Old Downtown.” She checked her watch. “We’ll meet back at my house at midnight.”

  “Sure,” Becky said.

  “Good hunting,” Sylvia said. She stood up and flipped off the other cars again. Then she sauntered off. Once she was out of sight, she would probably vanish herself to Executive Plaza.

  Becky had to rely on more conventional modes of transportation. She turned right and then continued that way until she was in the Old Downtown, about a dozen blocks from where she and Emma lived. This part of the city had once housed most of the commerce and government buildings, until they moved to the south end of the island as the financial markets became more important.

  As she drove, Becky wondered where Emma had gone. Maybe she would have better luck than either Becky or Sylvia. She did have that magic armor that gave her all those powers. She was the superhero, not Becky.

  After another hour, Becky gave up hope. Her stomach began to rumble, which reminded her she hadn’t eaten anything since those leftover ribs at the barbecue place. There weren’t a lot of drive-thrus in this area and she didn’t want to have to pay to park somewhere so she could go to a real restaurant.

  She sighed at this line of thought. Here Marie’s life was at stake and she could only think about her big gut. It made sense why Emma had been the one to find that magic armor; Emma sure as hell wouldn’t think of her stomach at a time like this.

  The necklace finally twitched. At first Becky thought maybe she had inadvertently made it move, but then it moved again on its own. The half of dragon tooth lifted into the air and then pointed to the left. Becky pulled into the turn lane so she could start in that direction. The necklace pointed straight ahead. It must be Marie. But where was she?

  The answer came about a block later. The necklace tugged so hard to the left that Becky thought it would choke her. There was no road in that direction, just a block of old stores with boarded-up windows and yellowed real estate signs. Marie must be in one of those stores.

  Becky pulled over to the curb. She wished Sylvia hadn’t gone. She ought to find a phone so she could call Mrs. Chiostro or the cops. But there weren’t likely to be any phones for a few blocks and who knew if Marie would still be here by then?

  She searched through the car for something to use as a weapon. Steve of course didn’t have a gun. She did find a lug wrench in the trunk. It seemed heavy enough to do some damage. She would just have to be careful not to let Marie pull that eye trick on her again.

  The necklace guided her to one of the stores. She knew it was the right one when she saw the door wasn’t boarded shut like the others nearby. Someone had been in here recently—Marie and her mustached friend. Were they still in here? She would have to find out. Maybe she could get Marie alone and talk some sense into her.

  The door wasn’t boarded up, but it was locked. Becky took care of that with the lug wrench. She pried off the board over the window on the door and then smashed the glass. When she stuck her hand through the hole, she found the deadbolt to twist open.

  She hoped she hadn’t made too much noise. After a deep breath, Becky eased the door open and then slipped inside. She needed a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Once they did, she saw glass cases wink at her. There didn’t seem to be anything in the cases; anything of value had been taken years ago she was sure. A sign over one case advertised watch repairs were done on site. This must have been a jewelry store then.

  Why would Marie hole up here? And what did she need Steve’s blood for? As she considered this, something heavy hit her in the back of the head. Becky landed on her back and got a look at the old man with the mustache before she passed out.

  Chapter 9

  By the time Lieutenant Donovan got to the warehouse, Cielo already had the rest of the team in position. He’d called in the rest of the precinct’s homicide detectives, as well as the SWAT team. These all lurked in an adjacent warehouse, out of sight until the time came to move in.

  Cielo handed a bulletproof vest to Lieutenant Donovan, followed by a pair of nightvision goggles. “She in there yet?”

  “Not yet. The trucks showed up five minutes ago,” Cielo said.

  “Any idea what’s in them?”

  “Nope. They’re unmarked.”

  “Great. Well well, what do we have here?” she said. A limousine, flanked by two Escalades, approached the warehouse. “Looks like we’ve got her. Have everyone get ready. We’re going in hot in three minutes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She continued to watch the limousine while Cielo relayed her orders. The limo’s windows were tinted so she couldn’t see inside. It might not be Vendetta in there; it might be one of her lieutenants. That would do almost as well, if she could get the lieutenant to roll on her boss. That would be a more difficult approach, but not impossible.

  The SUVs went in first, followed by the limo. A goon appeared from one of the Escalades to shut the warehouse door. Lieutenant Donovan wouldn’t be able to see how many were inside, not with these goggles. “Get me some thermal goggles,” she said to Cielo.

  He returned with another pair of goggles; these ones used infrared to let her see inside the warehouse. Lieutenant Donovan counted the number of warm blobs and came up with a dozen. The smaller one was probably Vendetta, while the larger ones had to be her minions.

  “Looks like we got a dozen people in there,” she said loud enough for everyone to hear. It was agreed she would lead the SWAT team inside while the other detectives would go around to flank Vendetta’s people.

  With everything set, she opened the door. “Let’s go,” Lieutenant Donovan said.

  She ran across the gap between the two warehouses. She tried not to run too fast so she could keep the SWAT team close, but years of anticipation propelled her forward. No one would stop her from finally taking that evil bitch in, not when she was so close.

  The weight of the warehouse door did prove to be an obstacle. She couldn’t lift it by herself. She stepped back to let two of the SWAT guys lift it up. Before they’d gotten it even halfway, she sprang through the opening. “Hands up, RCPD!” she shouted like one of those TV detectives.

  Her moment of joy fizzled in an instant. Instead of Don Vendetta or even one of her lieutenants, she saw a group of day laborers. The only one from Vendetta’s crew was the goon who’d shut the door. He had his hands up and a smile on his face.

  She holstered her weapon before she was tempted to use it on him. “Open up those trucks,” Donovan said.

  Cielo opened one up and then climbed inside. A minute later he said, “You’re not going to believe this, boss.”

  “Empty?”

  “No, worse. It’s full of bacon.”

  “That goddamned bitch!” Lieutenant Donovan shouted. Not caring if she broke something, she punched the wall with one fist. Then she grabbed the goon by the front of his shirt. “Who tipped her off?”

  “I ain’
t saying nothing,” he said.

  “Yeah? She set you up too. You realize that? Left you here to get busted while she played her joke.”

  “My family will be taken care of.”

  “I’m sure they will.” She shoved him back and then turned to Cielo. “Have someone put this asshole in a car for safekeeping. You know Spanish, right?”

  “Sure, boss.”

  “Then see if these other guys know anything. I doubt it.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Lieutenant Donovan stomped outside to light a cigarette. She looked around and wondered if Vendetta had someone to record this for her to laugh at later.

  ***

  Emma had to hiss at Mrs. Reuben twice to not look behind her. “He’ll think someone’s following you and then he’ll take off,” she said the second time.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t cry either. He’ll suspect something is going on.”

  “Sorry,” she said again.

  “Try not to walk so stiff. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Just hurt him, right?”

  “Only if he doesn’t cooperate.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  They walked another two blocks before they came to the old Gluck & Lehman plant. Before Mrs. Reuben could open the gate, a man’s voice called out, “You followed?”

  “No,” Mrs. Reuben said without hesitation. Emma watched her closely to make sure she didn’t try to send a message to her ex-husband.

  “You got what I asked for?”

  “I got the tickets.” She started to reach into her purse until there was a metallic click. “I’m just getting the tickets out.”

  “Do it slow.”

  “Roy, it’s me. It’s Connie. I love you. I’d never hurt you.”

  “You already hurt me once when you married that yuppie.”

  “What did you expect? I wanted to have a family, a normal life. I didn’t want to have a child with no father.”

  Roy French appeared from behind a rusty forklift. He was a little heavier and his hair grayer than in the police photograph, but Emma recognized him right away. “So that yuppie does it for you like I did?”

  “No one ever did it for me like you did, Roy.”

  “That’s true, baby. Very true.” He opened the front gate for her. Whether she meant to or not, Mrs. Reuben gave Emma enough time to sneak in when she planted a passionate kiss on her ex-husband’s lips. While they made out, Emma slipped through the gate and then started towards the factory.

  Like the other factories she’d visited, the Gluck & Lehman one was mostly dust, cobwebs, and rusty equipment no one had bothered to dispose of. She saw a light upstairs, and crept up the old metal stairs to the second floor with the cape around her body. Unlike her first mission, she watched her feet so she didn’t trip over anything that might give her away.

  She found Estima in the foreman’s office. The light she’d seen came from a 55-gallon drum stuffed with old papers. Like French, Estima looked heavier and grayer but otherwise the same as his mug shot. She resisted the urge to let the cape drop and punch him. Instead, she pressed herself into a corner to wait. She wanted to make sure Mrs. Reuben was out of danger before she struck.

  It took ten very long minutes for French to show up. Mrs. Reuben had not followed him. Emma hoped she hadn’t said anything to her ex-husband. But then she hadn’t known where Emma was. That should have kept her quiet.

  “You get the tickets, man?” Estima asked.

  “Yup. Bitch came through with two tickets to Philly.”

  “When?”

  “Two a.m. Get your shit and let’s go.”

  Emma took that as her cue to let the cape drop. “You two aren’t going anywhere except a prison cell.”

  Estima went for a gun, but he was too slow. Before he could raise the weapon, she batted it from his hand. A palm to his sternum sent him into the wall. Then she turned to deal with French. He had taken off, but like his partner he wasn’t fast enough. She caught up with him before he could get to the stairs. She grabbed him from behind and tossed him over her shoulder.

  The moment he landed, Emma had the Sword of Justice at his throat. “It’s over for you two.”

  “Listen, we’re leaving town. Just let us go and I promise we won’t do nothing.”

  “It’s too late for that.” She sheathed the sword and grabbed him by the front of the shirt. She couldn’t help but enjoy his whimpers and whines as she dragged him back into the office.

  She threw him next to Estima against the wall. Then she bent down and lifted the visor of her helmet. “I’m not going to kill you two,” she said. “Not unless you lie to me. Understand?”

  “We didn’t do nothing, man,” Estima said.

  She grabbed him by the throat. It would be easy enough to squeeze the life out of him, but she couldn’t, not yet. She had to make sure they were the ones who had killed Mom and Dad first. “That’s one lie. Don’t do it again.”

  “What do you want?” French said.

  “I want to know about a night thirteen years ago. A couple and their daughter were driving home. Two men fleeing from a robbery slammed into their car. The father was killed on impact, but the mother survived. She ran to get help. One of the men in the other car chased her down and killed her. Does that ring any bells?”

  “Thirteen years ago?” French said. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Maybe this will help your memory.” Emma produced a picture of her and her parents. It was the Christmas photo from the year before they had died. They all wore tacky sweaters, Emma’s parents on either side of her while she sat on a stool to make them all the same height. She looked so happy in that photo, so unaware next Christmas she would be an orphan. “You remember these people?”

  “Should we?” French said.

  She let Estima go to slap him harder than she had French’s ex-wife. “These were two innocent people. They had never done anything wrong. You killed them, didn’t you?”

  “No, man!” Estima shouted. “We didn’t kill no one!”

  “Why should I believe that?”

  “We never killed no one,” Estima said.

  “Liar!” She hurled French into the opposite wall. He landed with a groan. She took hold of Estima’s throat again. “You did it, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

  “No, man. We didn’t kill no one. We wouldn’t kill no little girl’s family. I have children myself. I wouldn’t hurt a mother.”

  “Because you’re so noble, right?”

  “I’m sorry about them, but we didn’t kill them.”

  “We’ll see about that—”

  It was then she heard metal squeal. She let Estima go to race out of the office. As she did, she saw someone had opened the loading dock door to the factory. Two black Escalades pulled into the factory. Emma recognized Don Vendetta’s goons; she had fought them enough over the last eighteen months. A dozen of them jumped out of the vehicles and spread out into a protective formation. Emma wrapped the cape around her body to keep out of sight.

  A limo pulled up next. Once it had come to a stop, surrounded by the goons, a door opened. Emma knew the fur-clad blond woman who got out of the vehicle. It was Don Vendetta, also known as Lydia Schmidt. They had met three times before, once at the opera, once at the Plastic Hippo club, and then again at a fundraiser for Roy Lintner.

  Another woman got out of the car after her: Estima’s sister.

  “They’re probably on the second floor,” the don said. “Bring them to me.”

  The goons started towards the stairs. Emma heard Don Vendetta say, “If you’re lying to me, we’ll be taking a short drive to the waterfront to get you fitted for some new shoes.”

  “He’s here. He called me this morning to ask for money.”

  “Let us hope so for your sake.”

  Emma remembered what Niccione had said about Don Vendetta’s bounty on French and Estima. The latter’s sister must have called her to claim the reward. But the don
wasn’t going to get French and Estima, not if Emma had anything to say about it.

  She waited until Don Vendetta’s thugs climbed up the stairs, then she let the cape drop. “You’re not taking them anywhere,” she hissed.

  ***

  The first thing Becky felt was cold metal. She thought she might be on a hospital gurney or maybe even an autopsy table. When she opened her eyes, she realized she was in a vault. It was similar to the one in Mrs. Chiostro’s basement, except there were more drawers and no weapons hung on the walls.

  Marie knelt over her, her pale eye hidden by her hair. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “No thanks to your friend.”

  “He’s not my friend.”

  “Then what is he? Your boss?”

  “No. He’s my partner.”

  “Yeah, partner in crime,” Becky grumbled. Marie gave her a hand to help her sit up.

  “I’m sorry about what happened with your boyfriend. We didn’t have a choice.”

  “What have you gotten yourself into, Marie?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me. I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff in the last year or so.”

  “My friend is dying. But I can save her. That’s why we needed Steve’s blood.”

  “What friend? Emma?”

  “No. Veronica.”

  “Who’s Veronica?”

  Marie looked down and actually blushed. “She’s a little girl. She dies when she’s only seven years old.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because she’s already dead. In the present. But I can see her. I can talk to her too, in 1876, when she’s still alive.”

  “Uh-huh,” Becky said. It made sense now why Marie had seemed so odd; she was completely insane. “And how is Steve’s blood going to help someone who’s been dead for over a hundred years?”

  “See for yourself.”

  Marie motioned to the floor around her. It was only then Becky saw a pentagram drawn in dark red with a bunch of odd symbols inside of it. The wooden chair Marie sat on rested in the center of the pentagram. “Is this a joke?”