The Smuggler's Gambit

by DK Cassidy

  Grant opens the door and says, “Shit. Another one.”

  I join him and see the body of a woman. There’s a red scarf around her neck, and I curse inwardly. Another victim. We enter the room to examine the body. She’s laid out in the same manner as the other women. Jennifer must have given Jerry explicit instructions about how to commit this murder. What doesn’t make sense to me is, why? Now I know they’re somehow related to the maxxolonium smuggling, but I can’t figure out how. My best guess is they’re a diversion.

  Lucien leaves Jerry to see what we’re talking about, and that turns into a mistake I’m sure he’ll think about for a long time. While we are focused on the corpse, no one is keeping an eye on Jerry. A shot rings out. We turn in unison to see a pool of blood oozing around Jerry’s head, his face now unrecognizable.

  Lucien cries out. I try to process what I’m seeing, but things just don’t add up. Jerry’s just killed himself right in front of us. What is going on? I can only guess that the guilt of murdering the woman is too much for him. We’ll never know now. Looking over at Lucien, I see tears rolling down his cheeks.

  “His poor wife and kids. He was a good man taken in by an evil person,” says Lucien. Lucien takes off his coat and lays it gently over Jerry’s face.

  Grant pulls out his communicator. “Now we have to involve the police. I’ll call the local precinct and get them here. Plus, if there are more people arriving, we could use the backup.”

  I go to one of the windows and peer out of a crack in the covering, keeping a lookout for any surprise visitors. I’m hoping to spot Jennifer, but not any of her goons. Nothing, no movement. Minutes later, I look up and see three police hovercars headed our way. Relief courses through my body, my shoulders drop, and I take a deep breath. We’ve got backup.

  Soon the warehouse is teeming with cops. Grant joins them to give them a brief overview of the details. He mentions the Red Scarf Murders to them but neglects to mention Jennifer Spion. We’d agreed not to disclose that part of our investigation. She was still ours to catch.

  Grant and I lead the coroner to the body, telling him what we think happened. Then Grant speaks to the lead officer and repeats his story while standing over Jerry’s body, which is still warm. Lucien hasn’t moved from Jerry’s side, as if protecting him.

  The coroner confirms the woman died from strangulation with the scarf. No sexual assault or other marks on her body. He’s already had his assistant put her in a body bag to take to the morgue. They also bag up Jerry and put him in the coroner’s van. Lucien gives them the information about Jerry’s family so the police can notify them. We took photos of the dead woman before the coroner arrived to compare with the other murders.

  It doesn’t make sense. Why would Jennifer force Jerry to kill this woman? From what he confessed, this is the only murder he’s committed. We still have to find out who killed the other women.

  Once the police leave the warehouse, we return to the limo to talk. Lucien hasn’t spoken a word since he made the comment about Jerry’s family. I’m worried about him, thinking he might not be cut out for the life of a PI. This case has exposed me to dead bodies, not something I expected when I became a PI. I still feel sickened by the sight, but I have to compartmentalize my feelings so I can still function. Probably not a healthy way to deal with it, but it works for me. Now if only the nightmares would stop. I haven’t told anyone about my nightmares. Not even Judy.

  Once inside the limo, Lucien at last says something. “Do you ever wonder why some people are capable of evil? Did something happen to them in their childhood, or are they born that way? Was there something in Jerry that Jennifer was able to access? Or was his desperation about money so great that he was willing to cross the line to murder?”

  The concept of evil fascinates me. Not that I admire someone who is like that, but I wonder about the source. Is it some sort of cosmic balance in the universe? Right now I can’t think about it; it’s time to shake Lucien out of his funk. If he can’t move on from this, the partnership is busted. I hate to sound like a hardass, but it’s dangerous for us to work together if he can’t keep his feelings in check.

  Grant puts his arm around Lucien, offering support to his old friend. “Hey, buddy, none of this is your fault, and it won’t do you any good trying to analyze why Jerry did what he did.”

  “But aren’t you curious, Grant?” asks Lucien, not willing to give up on the subject.

  “I stopped being curious about evil after my first six months on the job. The things I’ve witnessed have hardened me. All I focus on now is getting the perpetrator, not analyzing why they kill, steal, or rape. That road leads to insanity, my friend.”

  It’s time to change the subject.

  “Hey, guys, I think there’s still a killer out there,” I say. “My guess is it’s Jennifer. This murder is a distraction to confuse us. Poor Jerry was a pawn, a disposable person in her eyes. Let’s keep our focus on her. Once we catch her—and we will catch her—maybe she’ll tell us why. Or maybe she won’t, but either way, we have to keep going.”

  No one else shows up at the warehouse, which means Jerry’s purpose was to keep us confused. If he hadn’t committed suicide, she probably would have taken care of it herself. Or sent someone else to kill him. He was dead either way. Poor guy.

  “Let’s get out of here,” says Grant. “There’s nothing else we can do now. I need to send my full report to the New Seattle police before we leave the city. It’ll take me a bit of time to write it up. Do you have anyplace we can go, Lucien? If not, I can write my report in the limo on our way to the airport.”

  “Sure, I have a condo in downtown Seattle. Let’s go there.”

  As James pulls away from the building, a familiar black sports car speeds past us. Jennifer. She must have two cars—there was no time to have it shipped here.

  “Follow her, James!” shouts Lucien.

  James floors it, and I can’t help but shake my head. “Lucien, I know you want to believe Jennifer is innocent, but after tonight’s events, there’s no doubt: She’s using you.

  Grant nods in agreement while holding an ice pack to his black eye.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jennifer’s car makes a sharp turn, and her briefcase flies out of her convertible. What a lucky break for us. I hope the contents contain some useful information. Or does she want us to have it? She’s devious enough to throw us a false clue.

  James stops the limo long enough to recover the briefcase. There’s no time to get out. Trying not to fall out of the hoverlimo, I tighten my seatbelt and anchor my feet under the seat in front of me. Confident I can safely hang out of the door, I grab the case and dangle it in front of Grant as James floors it to keep up with Jennifer. My feet slip, but the seat belt keeps me from tumbling onto the ground.

  “Why did she draw us to New Seattle?”

  Lucien pushes out his bottom lip in a frown. “I’m not sure. I know so little about her private life. Maybe she has partners here?”

  Jennifer continues to swerve, changing altitude and going down side streets. James keeps within sight of her. I’m in awe of its driving skills.

  I look up and see we’re playing chase around the Space Needle, weaving in and out of the legs of the iconic structure. Her driving skills are damned impressive too. We might have lost her if James hadn’t been programmed with skills that match. Jennifer veers toward Queen Anne Hill, then circles back to the Needle. Nearing Elliot Bay, Jennifer turns her convertible and drives toward us.

  Oh, hell no. She really knows how to piss me off. “What’s that crazy bitch doing now?”

  “James,” says Lucien, “try to get behind her again.”

  It’s too late. Jennifer is shooting at us with what must be a high-powered rifle. She must have her autopilot on. I can see the outline of the gun in the artificial sun. It’s huge with a sight on the top, making it look more like a military weapon than one a civilian uses. The power of the ammo confirms it. Why does she have something
like that? A hail of bullets bounces off the limo’s front grill.

  “Is this car bulletproof?” shouts Grant.

  A bullet whizzes through the front window, answering Grant’s question. It crashes into the interior, then grazes Grant’s left arm. His injury drips blood on his shirt and the seat.

  “Shit!”

  I duck down and shout at Grant, “What’s the range of your gun? Can I shoot her from here?”

  I don’t mention that I’ve never fired a gun. If I have to do it, I’ll rely on instinct or luck.

  “Nope. Our only chance is to evade Jennifer until we can get behind her again.”

  How are we going to do that? As if he’d read my mind, Lucien instructs James to engage in evasive actions.

  “James, stop abruptly. That should force Jennifer to stop and change course. Once she does, we’ll be on her tail.”

  After Lucien gives his order to James, Grant continues. “I don’t think she can fire that rifle rearward, even with her autopilot engaged. If we can ram her car, she might crash if we’re lucky.”

  After James slams on the brakes, Jennifer turns her car around and speeds toward the hills. Ever relentless, James gives chase. We’re bouncing around like crazy, and I think I’m going to throw up. This limo has everything, but I don’t see a barf bag. The ice bucket will have to do. I snatch it unnoticed by my two companions. Deep breaths help, and so does thinking about capturing Jennifer, but I still feel nauseous. I place the bucket next to me just in case.

  Lucien sees the ice bucket, then looks at my pale face. He changes seats to be next to me. Then he reaches for my wrist, pressing the skin just below it, on the underside. After a minute, Lucien begins to slide his thumb up and down the same area. My nausea disappears. He pats me on the back, then without a word, he goes back to his seat. What kind of magic was that?

  “Okay, what the hell did you just do to me?”

  He smiles at me, then winks. “It’s the Chinese art of acupressure. It worked, didn’t it?”

  I nod. Once again, Lucien surprises me. During this impromptu healing session, Grant was talking on his comm.

  “Yes, we’re in pursuit of a possible felon. Can you spare a cruiser?”

  He rocks his body, impatient for a reply. “Why do I have to tell my story to another person? This is urgent! Fine. My name is Grant Mitchell, I’m a police officer from New New York. Badge number 02091123. Yes, I called a while ago regarding backup for a warehouse in Pioneer Square.”

  More rocking while the person on the other line asks another question. “I can’t tell you who we’re chasing because… never mind, I’ll handle it myself. Expect a call from my captain.”

  “I thought we agreed not to tell the police about Jennifer?” I say. “You were going to tell them!”

  Grant looks angry. “This is becoming… no, this is dangerous. You two are civilians. It seems reasonable to call for backup, but the meatheads at the New Seattle precinct, at least the bonehead who answered the comm, was of no damn use.”

  I, for one, am relieved he couldn’t get backup. “That’s okay, Grant, we don’t want to involve another police force, that would complicate things right now. Let’s focus on Jennifer. She shot at us. We’re not going to let her get away with it.”

  Lucien leans over and asks James if he can go any faster. James nods and increases the speed of the hoverlimo. Now I feel the way I did when I took a ship from Earth to the Moon. I’m plastered to my seat from the g-force. Who knew this car could go so fast?

  We’re getting closer and closer to Jennifer’s car. She’s within reach. Another minute and we’ll be able to ram her from behind. I brace myself for the blow. Grant and Lucien are gripping the armrests.

  “Warning,” says James, “impact in five seconds. Secure and brace yourselves.”

  We hit her car, and as expected, the vibration shakes the limo and us. Her car begins to spin in front of us, but she is one hell of a driver. She pulls out of the spin and gains elevation.

  “So much for ramming her out of the sky. Let’s try it one more time, James,” orders Lucien.

  “Low fuel, sir. Not able to pursue without a fuel stop. What are your orders?”

  “Dammit! We’re going to lose her! James, stop the pursuit and find the newest fueling station.”

  “Yes, sir, the nearest station is five minutes away. Proceeding.”

  James locates the fuel stop and lands the limo. I get out to find a bathroom, in need of the facility and for some alone time. I think better without distractions.

  However, the toilet is disgusting, not having been cleaned for what looks like the last decade. Any hope of staying in here long enough to collect my thoughts is dashed by the overwhelming smell of stale pee.

  Stepping outside the filthy restroom, I take a deep breath to clear the odor from my nose. There’s a bench behind the building. That will have to do. I sit and pull out my tablet, making notes about everything that’s happened today. Then I send my file to Judy. She answers me immediately with questions about my welfare and what we plan on doing next. Since a comm conversation is faster than writing up an email, I call her at the office.

  “Hello? Lily? I’m so relieved to hear your voice, girlfriend. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I am. Grant is the only one with an injury. I’m going to try to convince him to go to a hospital.”

  Judy mutters a curse. “How badly hurt is he? And why couldn’t it be Lucien with the injury?”

  “Judy!”

  “Yeah, my bad, that’s unkind of me. Sorry. I told you I’d try to get along with him, didn’t I?”

  I ignore it and move on. “Grant will be fine, but the wound is still something to be concerned about.”

  Before I can say anything else to her, Lucien comes around the corner. “There you are. Ready to go?”

  I hold up my finger and return to my call. “Have to go, Judy, we’ll talk later.”

  “What was that about? Did Judy call with new information?”

  “No, nothing, just telling her about our wild day.”

  When we get back to the car, Grant is lying down. Not a good sign. I go back to the fuel stop store and purchase an ice pack for him. We’d already used the one from the first-aid kit for his eye.

  “Grant, show me your arm,” I say.

  He holds his bloody arm up for my inspection. The bullet from Jennifer’s gun grazed his bicep. Poor guy. He always seems to be the one who gets injured.

  “Let me wrap something around that. Hmm…” I glance around, my gaze landing on Lucien’s shirt. If any of us can afford to lose some clothes, it’s him. There aren’t bandages large enough in the first-aid kit to use. “Lucien, tear off the bottom of your shirt so I can use it as a bandage.”

  Without any complaint, Lucien tears his shirt and hands me the strip of linen, which I wrap securely onto Grant’s arm to staunch the bleeding.

  “Okay, that will have to do until we can get you to a hospital.”

  “We can’t go to a hospital. That would raise too many questions.” Grant pulls his arm back and holds it closer to his body. “The bullet didn’t go through my arm. I’ll be okay.”

  “Fine,” I mutter. We don’t have time to argue. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  The men agree, and we drive away, the briefcase still clutched in my grip. I’m not letting this thing go. We are looking for a hotel so we can go over the contents of the briefcase. I’m not leaving this town until I know where that crazy bitch ran off to.

  We are going to stop her, and I don’t care what risks we face to do it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The closest place to spend the night looks a bit shady. Hovertaxis are parked outside the motel, waiting for fares. Women lean into the windows of passing cars while drug deals are made out in the open. There’s not a police officer in sight.

  We don’t want to keep driving to look for something better. The night needs to end now. I am exhausted and Grant is injured. This place will have to do.r />
  “So what do you say, should we get rooms here?” I ask.

  Both men say yes. Grant yawns.

  James pulls up to the front office so we can check in. Now that we’re partners, I suppose we should split the cost of the rooms. I’m not sure I have enough uni-chits because Lucien hasn’t paid me for the original job of following Jennifer. Time to swallow my pride and ask for my fee.

  “Lucien, would you mind transferring the uni-chits you owe me? Money is tight, and I need to pay Judy, my rent, and for this room.”

  “Forgive me, Lily. I forgot about your fee. While we’re talking about money, I hope you realize I’m paying the fee and expenses for our current case.” He raises his hand to stop me from objecting. “This case came from my original one and affects my company. I’ll deposit my fee and also a healthy retainer to cover our expenses. Okay?”

  He’s right. There’s no reason for me to object. My sense of relief is more powerful than my pride.

  “Makes sense. Yes, I agree.”

  Before we check in, I have an idea. What if those dealers outside are selling maxxolonium? This could be a lead. I hate to say it, but sleep has to wait until I find out.

  “Wait in the limo for me. I have to do something.”

  Lucien eyes me for a moment. “Okay, what is so important? I thought you were exhausted.”

  I tell both of them my idea about talking to the dealers. Before I can finish, Grant grabs me by my shoulders.

  “Are you nuts? Those guys can be dangerous, and you don’t carry a gun. What do you think would happen to you if they found out you’re a private investigator?”

  Not one to give in easily, I jerk myself away and get out of the car. Lucien and Grant both look shocked. Before they’re able to stop me, I walk over to the nearest dealer.

  “Hey, I’m trying to score some maxxolonium. Is this my lucky night?”