by K. C. Finn
The young detective can believe that.
“But you’ll agree that The Face put you up to killing those three men the other day?” He presses.
“I will,” Flash answers, trying to nod, but failing against his bonds, “Rather them than me, innit?”
“Tell me how to find him,” Cae demands.
“You don’t find him, he finds you,” Flash replies.
“Yeah,” Kendra adds, “We did that part already. Answer his question.”
Flash bites in his dark lip. “He has messengers, powerful ones at that.” Cae can see Morgan’s dark fingers curling and uncurling under his steel bonds. “I can’t give you their names; The Face has people listening for him everywhere. Didn’t you see what happened to that Locke woman?”
“What do you know about that?” Cae pushes.
“Only that she was supposed to die and she didn’t,” Flash explains, eyeing Kendra’s gun again, “Whoever botched that job is probably only recognisable by their dental records by now.”
Though he is still the huge, dark mogul he has always been, it seems that Dartley Prison has at least found a way to subdue Flash Morgan. He seems much less of man and more of an ugly, trapped rat. Cae can even see the whites of his eyes now and then when he lets loose a nervous look. He is genuinely afraid of The Face, despite his own power and influence.
“These messengers,” Cae reiterates slowly, “Isn’t there anything I can do to find one?”
But then Flash releases a half-hearted grin. “That’s the sad thing, Rex,” he says in a tone like gravel, “You already have.”
“You’re not getting off without explaining that,” Kendra says irately.
“There’s one right under your nose,” Flash says with a sneer, “Slipping in and out of your life whenever they feel like it. I can’t say no more, Rex. Just open your eyes.”
Cae considers the murderous profiteer for a moment, his lips falling into a small smile.
“You’d quite like me to catch The Face wouldn’t you, Flash?”
Kendra gives them both a quizzical look. Flash says nothing, but his dark eyes flicker down to the floor.
“I bet it’d be nice for you to be back in control of your life, instead of taking his orders,” he explains. The young detective slowly gets up from his seat, all the more aware of the weakness racing through his muscles. “Come on Kendra,” he indicates, “Flash has got quite enough problems from his employer without us adding to them.”
The mocking edge to his tone is not lost on the huge murderer strapped to his chair.
“He’ll get you Rex,” Flash warns, “Like he got your mother.”
“He’ll try.”
Cae just keeps walking for the door.
32.
“So how do we find out who the messenger is?” Kendra asks as she helps Cae off the prison boat.
“I suppose it’s a simple process of deduction,” Cae suggests, “We’ve just been looking too far afield.”
“So what, do we scrutinise and suspect everyone we know now?”
“Pretty much,” Cae confirms.
“Fun,” Kendra says with a laugh, “Oh I got a call when you were resting by the way.” Cae quirks a black brow at his friend. “That three wheeled van got stolen from our lot yesterday.”
“So no evidence there then,” Cae sighs.
Kendra puts her arm out for Cae to lean on to get to the car, but he declines it, crossing the empty, smoggy road alone. He feels a little stronger now, a little more assured that all the clues he needs are waiting for him, if he can just find the right leads to follow. He is grateful to reach Kendra’s beat-up car and sink into his spot in the passenger seat.
But no sooner has he settled and let out a sigh into his mask, his phone begins to bleep. Kendra watches him intently as she gets into the car. He holds the receiver clumsily up to the mask.
“Yes?”
“Cae you have to come quickly.”
The voice on the other end belongs to Lady Locke. The usual smooth and elegant tone of the casino owner is broken like she has been crying. She whispers, so full of fear that Cae feels the hairs on his neck start to prickle.
“What’s happened?” He asks.
“I think there’s a killer in the casino,” she breathes, “Andre and I…we found a body.”
“Where are you now?”
“We’re locked inside.”
“Well get out of there!” Cae demands in disbelief.
“I can’t!” Lady Locke cries, but then her voice falls back into the whispery tone, “Cara’s gone missing. If I unlock the doors, the kidnapper will get out!” Cae could almost roll his eyes at her dedication to the creature, if she weren’t in so much danger. “Look,” she continues, “Andre and I are right at the front doors so we can get out if need be, but get here, please get here quickly!”
“We’re on our way,” Cae confirms, hanging up the call.
Kendra charges her car on down the foggy promenade, the windshield slowly covering with a mixture of sea spray and remnants of the dirty brown chemicals in the air. When they pull up outside the House of Cards Cae can already see the two worried figures standing on the other side of the clean air partition. Andre comes through in a jet black gas mask to let them in, then carefully locks the door up behind him.
“Give me the keys,” Kendra orders.
Andre gives Lady Locke a questioning look, but when she nods fearfully in agreement, he obeys.
“Now tell me what happened,” Cae soothes calmly, “From the moment you got here up to right now.”
“We came in and unlocked just this door,” Lady Locke begins with a sniffle, “And then I locked it behind me again right away so no early customers would try to come in.”
“We always do that if we’re going to organise the money,” Andre adds.
Cae just nods, watching his overwhelmingly tired face with interest. If it’s possible, Andre looks even worse for wear than Cae himself right now. Neither of the men are in any position to be of use if there really is a killer in the building somewhere, but Cae takes a great comfort in the sight of Kendra inspecting her handgun as she listens to the tale unfolding.
“When did you come in?” She questions.
“About half an hour ago,” Lady Locke replies, her brown eyes watering. “And Andre and I went to get the books, and then we went to the safe in the VIP Lounge and-‘
Her voice cracks there and Andre grabs hold of her quivering hand.
“And that’s where we found the body,” he completes.
“Wait,” Cae pauses them as a thought occurs to him, “When you came into the building, was it just you two?” The elegant lady’s tears start to flow properly once more.
Andre puts an arm around her shoulders, shaking his head.
“I told you we were doing the money,” he says, stifling a shaky yawn, “Mai came in with us.”
“So where is she now?” Kendra asks.
But Cae can already see the answer to the question in Lady Locke’s sobs and Andre’s downcast expression.
“She’s the body they found,” he replies.
33.
The body of Maigret Zeus is lying face down on the floor of the VIP Lounge, its plush carpet soaked with the deep crimson river of her blood. The back-left portion of her head is damaged, dented deeply on one side. Lady Locke stands with her back to the garish scene wrapped in Andre’s heavy arms. He too casts his eyes away from Mai’s body, resting his chin in Lady Locke’s deflated blonde curls.
“Looks like a bludgeoning from here,” Kendra says. She is guarding the lounge door, keeping a watchful eye on the hall outside for any sign of movement.
“Multiple blows,” Cae expands as he crouches beside the dead woman’s form, “This is no seasoned killer. Whoever did this had no clue how to deliver a killing strike.”
His bright blue eyes travel to a satchel bag lying beside her. Carefully navigating the pool of blood, Cae puts a gloved hand into the bag, rifling around to
get a better look at its contents. A few plastic drug bottles roll out onto the carpet, then Cae finds something more solid inside the bag. He pulls out one of Lady Locke’s necklaces, shimmering in the false light of the room.
“There’s cash in here too,” he says, peering back into the bag, “And a lot of it.”
“She was robbing us?” Andre asks in disbelief, his eyes refocusing on the bag and the necklace.
“Until somebody stopped her,” Kendra points out.
Cae can’t help the suspicions that arise as he looks at the casino owner and her would-be boyfriend in the doorway. He remembers Flash’s warning as he gets to his feet.
“And you knew nothing about this?” He asks to confirm.
Lady Locke turns with fearful wide eyes. She shakes her head gently.
“Nothing,” Andre repeats, “Give me all the TRUTH you’ve got. We knew nothing until we came and found her like this.”
“You’ve had quite enough powders to last a lifetime,” Lady Locke snaps at him weakly.
Andre turns with an exhausted kind of frustration. “Do I look like I’m using right now?” He pleads.
Kendra coughs loudly. “Can we leave your drug problem aside whilst we solve this murder, do you think, or have you forgotten there’s a killer loose somewhere in this building?”
The reminder riles them all into silence until Cae is ready to act. He meets Kendra’s eyes with a familiar determined look.
“You and I have got some searching to do,” he suggests.
She nods, using her free hand to wrestle a spray can of some kind from her belt. Tossing it into Andre’s hands, she gives the pair of suspects a deadpan look.
“You two go back to the foyer doors,” she orders, “If you see anyone, scream like hell and get them in the face with this spray.”
“Whoever did this was clumsy,” Cae soothes as he looks at their petrified faces, “Two of you should be able to take them on, no problem.”
“If you say so,” Lady Locke answers, taking Andre’s arm and walking slowly from the room.
“So, if you’d just clobbered someone, where would you go?” Kendra asks as they stand at the entrance to the grand gambling hall.
“Let’s check the private rooms,” Cae says as he starts to walk, “there’s another exit I want to make sure is still locked.”
Almost every room in the House of Cards has now become some sort of crime scene, and this bleak fact isn’t lost on Cae as he and Kendra pass through the space where Flash shot Jimmy Wheeler just a few short weeks ago. They slowly enter the corridor leading from the back exit of that room, a bleak, narrow hall with black walls and flickering white strip lights overhead. Several doors branch off the claustrophobic space, but directly ahead of them is the so-called fire exit that Lady Locke proclaimed her “special” clientele were more likely to use.
Cae slips down the corridor silently to inspect the door, which is not a proper fire door at all. It locks with a key. Cae tries the handle, finding it still sealed shut.
“Which room now?” Kendra whispers.
The young detective almost considers splitting up to cover more space, but at the same moment his legs give a quiver, as if to remind him that he is not up to strength. He beckons Kendra into the nearest room, which turns out to be a cupboard overflowing with spare plastic gambling chips, dice and other casino stock.
The shelves of goods split the room into two, so Kendra takes herself off down the left side of the stock room while Cae takes the right. As he walks he scans every dark shadow, every possible space where the priceless feline (and indeed her kidnapper) could be biding their time to make an escape. But as he nears the end of the lane of objects, Cae feels the tiny hairs on the back of his neck starting to stand. A shadow shifts from an undetermined source, and all of a sudden there is a hand on his shoulder. A firm hand, like cold steel.
Cae jerks around with a shout to face his attacker, hearing Kendra’s footfalls as she tries to get back to him. He is both shocked and relieved to find that the steely cold hand on him actually is made of steel.
“Croop,” he says in a pant, “You scared the life out of me.”
“My apologies sir,” answers the robot politely, “I was merely going to inquire whether I could help you locate something from the stock room.”
Croop turns to observe Kendra as she finds him with Cae. She gives the robotic creation an ironically disdainful look.
“I thought you said one of these had been deactivated?” She asks Cae, choosing to ignore the machine itself.
Croop takes it upon himself to be helpful nonetheless. “I have been active for a total of twenty-seven minutes since my last shut down,” he informs.
“That’s interesting,” Kendra observes.
“And what have you been programmed to do?” Cae pushes.
“I’m primed for a total clean up sir,” the bot replies.
Kendra’s eyebrows droop lower. “Do you think he would have cleaned up the crime scene?”
“Perhaps, if we hadn’t got there first,” Cae answers worriedly. “Croop, under no circumstances are you to clean up the VIP Lounge today, is that understood?”
“Yes sir,” the robot says with a nod.
Cae thanks the machine, but then another thought occurs to him.
“Croop,” he says casually, “You haven’t seen anyone walking around back here, have you?”
The robot has begun its task of organising the shelves already, but it pauses long enough to reply.
“Only the gentleman hiding in Miss Xiao’s dressing room, sir.”
34.
Under Croop’s guidance Cae and Kendra locate the correct door in the black corridor. Though the robot did not see the man very clearly as he moved into this very room, Croop assures them that it is most certainly a man who thought he had slipped past him some moments ago. Kendra keeps a tight grip on her gun, Cae mimicking her as he uses his other hand to slowly open the door.
He may well have expected to see the plastic drug bottles littered on the desk. Most of them read ENERGY and are also fairly empty, as is the rest of the room, at first glance. Zerafina’s dressing space is compact, with a tiled mirror over a small make up table and one rack of shiny, form-fitting costumes on one side, with a matching rack of floaty, silky costumes on the other. Some of the floaty costumes are wafting suspiciously, and though it could just be the result of air filtration in the room, Cae nods Kendra in the direction of the rack all the same.
With an unexpected heave she tips the rack and vaults over it as Cae trains his gun on the figure now revealed. It is indeed a man, as Croop had claimed, though just barely. Cae lowers his gun again with a sigh as Kendra drags the man out from against the wall by his collar.
“What are you doing here Redd?” Cae asks, exasperated.
The glittering conman holds up a stunning sky blue jacket that Cae recognises. Redd’s eyes are wide with apprehension as they travel between Cae’s look of frustration and Kendra’s rather more suspicious expression. The older man holds up his hands.
“Look,” he begins, “I just came to get the jacket back. I went to say thanks to Calista, but when I stepped into the lounge and saw the body I came straight back here to lie low. I don’t want anything to do with another murder scene thanks. I just couldn’t get out again with that stupid robot wandering about.”
“How did you get in in the first place?” Kendra demands.
“Ah,” Redd says, fishing a little silver key out of his pocket, “Back door key. I was acquainted with the gentleman who owned this place before Calista.”
“Jack Lacroix?” Cae interrupts.
Redd nods with a casual grin. “When he very unfortunately died, I came into possession of his spare keys. Wasn’t it one of your lot that shot him?”
“Yes,” Kendra answers, swiping the key from his hand.
Redd’s weak look of protest is replaced by one of anguish when Kendra grabs hold of him again and drags him from the dressing room. Cae lin
gers a moment, eyeing the empty bottles of ENERGY once more with interest before he follows them out.
Once Redd Richmond has been placed under the supervision of Lady Locke and Andre in the casino foyer, a further sweep of the building reveals that there is no-one else hiding in any of the remaining rooms in the House of Cards. With this in mind Cae gathers everybody, Croop included, back into the VIP Lounge, where he covers Mai’s body with a swathe of velvet to remove the bloody distraction. As the four suspects huddle uneasily in a selection of plush chairs, Kendra eyes them all with her trademark steely glare.
“Okay people,” she begins, pacing like a drill sergeant, “The casino is sealed. I have all the sets of keys. An expensive feline is missing and a woman is dead. Now I’m gonna let the good detective here do his thing, and then one of you, possibly more, is going to prison. How does that sound to you all?”
Redd rubs his hands together with a clap. “Smashing,” he answers, “Let’s get on with it. For once I have nothing to hide.”
“Excuse me,” Lady Locke says, clearly trying to hide her disdain, “But are you saying that you suspect one of us is the killer or the catnapper?”
“Or both?” Andre adds bitterly.
“Possibly,” Cae interjects, catching Andre’s eye. The tanned man still has those purple shadows haunting his face. “Actually, I have some questions for you first, Mr. Lutz, if you don’t mind.”
“Well since you called me Mr. Lutz,” Andre replies with an eyeroll.
“Lady Locke mentioned earlier that you’re having a little trouble with certain narcotics,” Cae begins thoughtfully, “Would you care to elaborate?”
It is clear that Andre doesn’t want to, but Lady Locke is all too keen to speak in his place.
“He’s been taking uppers so he can work double shifts,” she explains as he turns his head away from her, “That’s why I locked all my bottles in the safe, to stop him taking them at work.”
“Uppers,” Cae repeats, his eyes narrowing, “like ENERGY, for example?” Andre suddenly looks back to the young detective. He nods ever so slightly. “I rather think Andre found somewhere else to get his fix from,” Cae suggests.
