Liquid Steele (Daggers & Steele Book 9)

by Alex P. Berg

  Doctor Pryor nodded. “Mr. Abano’s brother, yes. One of my nurses tried to keep him out, but he wouldn’t be denied, and I wasn’t about to evict him either, given the circumstances.”

  “And the townsfolk who dropped him off?” asked Bronmuth. “Who was it?”

  Pryor shrugged. “I’m not sure. I didn’t ask. My secretary might’ve recognized them. She could give you descriptions, I’m sure. I was too busy trying to make sure Mr. Abano didn’t die to pay any attention to them.”

  “Silverbrook?” said Shay. “Could we speak to you for a sec?”

  “Give us a moment,” said the dwarf to the doctor. We retreated up the hallway and out of earshot.

  “Look, Silverbrook,” said Shay, leaning in. “It’s pure speculation at this point, but while you were investigating the identity of Bianca’s lover, Daggers and I had an epiphany. Bianca was seen with Carmine at that bar last night. It might’ve been him.”

  Bronmuth grunted. “Yeah.”

  “You don’t seem surprised,” I said.

  He frowned. “I didn’t know, if that’s what you’re suggesting. But some of the rumors I heard this afternoon? Nobody could tell me anything specific, but I was cobbling pieces together. And with Carmine getting stabbed? It was a reasonable conclusion.”

  “In that case, we need to talk to Orlando,” said Shay. “I mean, they live together, don’t they? He would’ve had to have known what was going on.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he did,” said Silverbrook. “But we aren’t going to be talking to him. You don’t know him like I do. He’s not the most rational person on the best of days. Normally, he’s loud and brash and a little on the combative side. Now? Who the hell knows.” He shook his head. “I’ll talk to him. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get anything out of him, but I’ll try. I’ll have a better shot at it alone than I would with the two of you looming behind me.”

  There is was again, that suspicion that Bronmuth was cutting us out of the best parts, and yet what he said made sense. If he had any kind of relationship with Carmine’s brother, he might be able to leverage it into knowledge, whereas we certainly wouldn’t.

  “Okay,” I said. “Fair enough. You want us to wait for you in front?”

  “Are you kidding?” he said. “You’re the homicide cops. Get to the docks. Figure out what the hell happened down there.”

  “You’re okay with that?” asked Steele.

  “Right now, I’ll take all the help I can get,” he said. “Seriously, our town isn’t equipped for this sort of thing. If anyone asks, tell them you’re supposed to be there. Show them your badges. I’m sure they won’t fight you.”

  It sounded good enough to me. I gave Shay a nod. She nodded back, and we got moving fast.

  30

  The sun hung low in the sky as we returned to the docks, sending long shadows trailing from the warehouses and casting their backsides into darkness. A crowd of a dozen individuals huddled together at the base of one of the alleys, muttering among themselves in low voices and surrounded by a cloud of fear.

  With my badge clutched in one hand, I pushed my way through. “Excuse me. Police business, coming through. Make way.”

  I punched through the other side, Shay trailing right behind me, only to run into a uniformed guy in his mid thirties with a mustache so big it could’ve been used by a stage magician to hide a wayward assistant or two. He slammed his forearm into me as I left the crowd, his moustache dancing as he spoke.

  “Hey! Who the hell are you? What do you think you’re doing? This is an active crime scene.”

  “Cool it, mop face,” I said. “I’m Daggers. This is Steele. We’re homicide.”

  “Yeah?” he said. “Because I’ve never seen you before in my life. So why don’t you turn your butts around—”

  “Hang on there, Morris.”

  The cop stepped to the side—or was pushed to the side, rather. Mines appeared behind him, her face lined with worry.

  “Daggers. Steele,” she said. “Boy, am I glad to see the two of you. Were you with Silverbrook?”

  I glanced at Morris, almost surprised at having found one of Aragosto’s other reclusive cops, although there had been four desks at the station, so I knew there’d been others.

  “We were,” I said. “He’s at the clinic. Carmine Abano is alive, but only barely. His brother Orlando is there, too. Silverbrook stayed behind to talk to him. Said he’d fare better alone than with us at his side.”

  Mines wiped her hand across her face. “This is a disaster. Here. Come on in. Step away from the crowd.”

  We followed her into the alley, one smelling of fish and intermittently dotted with large wooden crates, iron-banded barrels, and piles of shipping supplies tied down and covered in tarps. The sun couldn’t work its way past the warehouse roofs to the alley floor, which probably explained why there were still puddles here and there despite it not having rained in at least a day and a half. All in all, the alley could’ve been a dead ringer for the one in which we’d found Quinto and his brother, Felix—except for the section with all the blood.

  A shallow pool of the dark sticky stuff slicked the stones underfoot, and a few other smears of blood stood out on the wall of the warehouse to my left and on a crate on the same side. Said crate had received a greater indignity than having been bloodied, however, as the front side of it had been crushed, the boards cracked and bent inward. A fishy smell emanated from within, even stronger than what lingered in the air.

  “This is where they found him,” said Mines. “Laying on the ground, bleeding out. I’m guessing there was a fight. Carmine, or whoever he was fighting with, must’ve gotten thrown into that crate. The witnesses say he was stabbed, or appeared to have been.”

  “With something pointed but not sharp,” said Steele. “The doctor confirmed it. And these witnesses are?”

  Mines pointed up the other side of the alley. “Mickey Smuthers and Don Black. A couple of local fishermen. Said they’d docked and were heading into town, coming down this alley when they found him. Probably hadn’t been more than a few minutes since Carmine had been stabbed. Said he was trying to tell them something but kept choking on his own blood. They’re the ones who took him to the doctor. Told us he passed out on the way there.”

  I followed Mines’ finger to the pair in question. With their flannel shirts and woolen caps, they looked the part. Another uniformed face that was new to me talked to them and jotted stuff down in a notepad.

  “That them?”

  Mines nodded. “Returned about twenty minutes ago after dropping Carmine off. Travers is taking their statements.”

  I assumed that was the cop. “Hard to believe they’d be involved if they came back.”

  “That’s what I thought,” said Mines. “I’m assuming they’re clean. We’ll check with Keonig to make sure they arrived when they said they did.”

  “And nobody saw anything of the fight itself?” I said. “Or heard anything?”

  “Not to my knowledge,” said Mines. “The crowd at the front developed recently. I don’t think any of them were here when Carmine got assaulted, but who knows? Morris asked, but no one stepped forward.”

  I grunted. While I’d talked with Mines, Shay had knelt at the crime scene, peering into cracks and crevices and corners that might contain evidence only she’d be able to parcel out, although with the fading light, even her eagle eyes might soon fail her.

  I nodded toward the buildings. “Any idea what these are?”

  “One of them is an Abano building,” said Mines. “A warehouse, nothing special. The other is a cannery. Belongs to someone else.”

  Steele stood, and joined us, her gaze focused on the cobblestones underneath. “Do you have a lantern?”

  “Not on me, no,” said Mines. “We’ll have to head back to the station to grab one.”

  “You find something?” I asked.

  “Maybe.” She walked up the alley, toward the new officer and the two citizens who’d saved Carm
ine. “Excuse me? Guys? You two found and carried Carmine Abano to the doctor’s, right? I’m guessing you took him straight there, heading that way?” She pointed at the crowd at the far end of the alley.

  The pair cut off conversation from the officer, looking like they weren’t sure if they were supposed to respond.

  Mines gave them a nod. “Go ahead, guys.”

  “Uh, yeah, that’s right,” said the taller of the pair. “We took him to Doc Pryor’s as fast as we could. Headed straight there.”

  Steele pushed past them to the mouth of the alley. She swiveled her head around, eventually locking eyes on something. “Bingo.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She knelt down. “A blood trail, heading the opposite direction our fishermen took Abano. Carmine’s assailant must’ve been injured in the fight. Not badly, given the blood droplets. I’d guess he suffered a minor laceration, maybe to his hand or arm, something that would’ve dripped as he fled the scene.”

  I knelt beside her, gazing at the stones underfoot. “Where?”

  She pointed it out.

  I blinked, leaning closer. Finally I saw it. A tiny pair of spots, barely darker than the surrounding rock. “Seriously? You can see that?”

  “I won’t be able to for long,” she said. “We either need lanterns stat or we need to hurry. Preferably both.”

  “You never cease to amaze.” I stood. “You coming, Mines?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Well…I suppose I should, shouldn’t I? But what about Travers and Morris? They’re not exactly used to dealing with this sort of thing.”

  “And you are?”

  She took a breath and blew it out forcefully through her lips. “Fair point. Travers? You’re in charge until I get back, and no, I have no idea when that’ll be. Keep the crime scene clear. Don’t let anyone in who doesn’t need to be here. Clear?”

  The officer nodded. “Yes, sergeant.”

  We headed off as fast as Shay could track the trail, skirting another warehouse and into yet another alley. From there, our path wove snakelike in and around service buildings in a seemingly chaotic manner, but as we paused at an intersection for the fourth or fifth time, Shay scanning the ground with narrowed eyes, I started to understand what was going on. The blood trail led away from Aragosto’s center, east toward the lighthouse and the path toward Millionaire’s Row, but that wasn’t the most important point.

  “Carmine’s attacker knew what he was doing,” I said. “Or at least where he was going.”

  “What’s that?” said Mines.

  “The attacker,” I said as we rushed down another alley. “Look around. I know it’s late, but we haven’t bumped into anyone else yet. He deliberately took back roads, knowing where he wasn’t likely to be spotted fleeing the scene. He knows the docks.”

  “It’s a small town,” said Mines. “That doesn’t mean much.”

  We burst free of the warehouses’ embrace and stumbled upon a familiar road, the one we’d taken with Silverbrook in search of Rigger’s house. Shay didn’t waste any time, heading up it, presumably still following a trail only she could discern. The sky wasn’t interested in playing along, however. It had turned from a sea blue to a deep purple.

  After jogging a few hundred feet along the path, Shay stopped in the middle of the road. She sighed. “I’ve lost it.”

  I didn’t blame her. I was having a hard time making out the features of the houses on either side of the street, never mind a miniscule trail of blood that might’ve seeped into the earth or clotted along the way.

  One of the homes stood out clearer than the others, illuminated by a bright lantern hung from a hook on the front porch.

  Mines made a beeline for it.

  An old guy sat on a porch swing next to it, smoking a pipe and eyeing us suspiciously as we approached. “Hey! What do you think you’re—”

  Mines hopped up the steps and snagged the lantern. “Sorry. Police business. I’m seizing this due to extraordinary circumstances. We’ll return it when we’re able.”

  The old guy sprang up, surprisingly sprightly given his apparent age. Sweet-smelling smoke from his pipe swirled around him, looking as if it might be coming out of his ears. “You can’t do that. That’s my only good lantern. How am I supposed to—”

  “Leer at people as they walk past on the street?” I asked.

  The old guy glared at me.

  Steele and Mines had already started back toward the street, but I paused at the base of the steps. “You weren’t out here smoking say, an hour ago, were you?”

  He grunted. “What’s it to you?”

  “See anybody go by?”

  “What? You mean the big guy?”

  Steele and Mines both turned.

  I suffered a sense of foreboding, hoping I wouldn’t have terrible news to share with Quinto when he came back to town. “What big guy?”

  “A strapping young lad,” said the old guy, still huffing on his pipe. “Tall. Bushy beard. Seemed like he was in a hurry.”

  I turned to my partner. “It’s not much of a description, but I can think of one person who fits the bill. Someone who worked on the docks and would know his way around. Someone who would have a motive to kill Carmine if we’re right about him and Bianca and what that could’ve meant for Johnny.”

  Shay nodded. “The thought crossed my mind the instant we heard about Carmine. But now we have evidence.”

  Mines blinked, confused. “Who?”

  “Johnny’s brother,” I said. “Joey Nicchi.”

  Mines’ look didn’t budge. “Why would he try to murder Carmine Abano?”

  “It’s complicated. We’ll fill you in on the way. Right now, we don’t have any time to lose. Let’s go.”

  31

  We trekked up the hill, past the abandoned ranch house and toward Joey’s place at the Sea Ridge Preserve, our appropriated lantern bravely fighting the now all-encompassing dark of night. Shay hadn’t managed to pick up the blood trail after securing our newfound source of light, but that hadn’t stopped us from high-tailing it through town as quickly as we could.

  I put a hand on Shay’s shoulder and motioned for Mines to stop as we approached the sign. “Hold on. We need to have a quick conversation before we go in there.”

  “You want to iron out a game plan,” said Mines.

  “We should tread carefully,” said Shay. “If Joey is in there, and he’s our guy, he’s liable to be in an extremely fragile emotional state. If he attacked Carmine, we have to assume he’d be willing to use violence against us.”

  Mines wore a heavy truncheon on her belt. She unbuckled it and hefted it in her right hand. “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

  Her attitude and physique both made me think she could. I reached into my jacket, into my secret pocket for my own head smasher, Daisy. I was so used to her presence that I’d learned to ignore her weight, her cold caress, and the way she pressed against my chest from the inside of my coat. I pulled her out and gripped her tightly, the lantern held in my other hand.

  “Good to hear, Mines. Still, Joey isn’t your typical bruiser. He’s a hunter, by trade if not by nature. We saw several blades in his barn when we stopped by with Silverbrook earlier. We should assume he’s armed and dangerous. Steele? You know I trust you, but I think it would be best for you to stay behind me, at least until we can get you armed.”

  She nodded. “Agreed.”

  “You ready, Mines?”

  The sergeant nodded.

  “Okay. Let’s check the barn first.”

  We moved in, Mines leading the way, and gosh darn it if the sergeant didn’t finally seem in her element. Until now I’d seen her as a small town functionary, not fully qualified for her station but at least more level-headed then those around her, but now, finally, I saw something of value. She walked fluidly, in a partial crouch, her striking arm relaxed but ready and her head constantly moving from side to side, gaining whatever knowledge she could from sight and sound. If
I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’d been in a military unit in a previous life.

  We headed to the barn, making little noise but giving ourselves away nonetheless by our light. Mines paused at the door, still open as it had been in the morning, and glanced inside. I lifted the lantern, spreading the lamp’s flickering light over the dusty plows and yokes and other old pieces of farm equipment, all of which looked notably creepier in the dark of night.

  “Joey?” called Mines. “You in there?”

  “Look,” said Steele, pointing.

  I followed her finger to the rack on the near wall, the one next to the hoes and rakes and pitchforks. I clicked my tongue. “Damn.”

  “There a problem?” asked Mines.

  “There were two more knives and another bow there this morning,” I said. “Armed and dangerous, indeed.”

  Mines pulled back from the door and started scanning the surroundings, first the ranch house behind us and then the forested areas off on either sides.

  “What is it?” asked Shay.

  “Nothing,” said Mines. “I’m checking the obvious vantage points. I don’t see anyone. We should be okay, but if he has a bow, that’ll change our strategy. Joey’s a good shot. There’s a reason he has this gig.”

  I gulped. I’d never had to deal with a sniper with a grudge before. “Steele, you want to grab one of the remaining knives?”

  “Are you serious? I’d be as liable to hurt myself or one of you as I would to defend myself.” Shay nodded in the direction we’d came. “Let’s check the house.”

  We retreated to the home, but no light streamed through any of the windows. We skirted around it, heading to the front door, Mines once again leading the way. The sergeant reached out to test the handle, but Shay grabbed her by the arm before she could.

  “Wait!” Shay pointed. A dark substance smeared across the brass knob. “That’s blood.”

  Mines nodded and tested the handle anyway, though she tried her best not to touch the portion that had been contaminated. The door didn’t budge.

  “Damn.” Mines knocked. “Joey? You in there? If you are, please come to the door. We can still resolve this peacefully.”