by J. C. Staudt
“Not long enough, Sal,” I said, smiling.
Sal lifted the brim of his hat and gave me his familiar crumpled smile. “So what is it you’ve got for me, anyway? You say it’s good?”
“The best.” I handed him a chunk.
He tested its weight, rubbed it with his thumb. “I’m not gonna ask how you came into this.”
“Good, ‘cause it ain’t public information.”
“Unlike that ugly mug of yours. I’ve seen plenty of that thing hanging around the past few days.”
“You mean that stick-figure likeness the Civs are calling a wanted poster? It’s nowhere near as bad here as it is in some places.”
“You’re lucky that poster doesn’t much look like you. Still, lots more ground to cover in the big city. There’s a copy on the bulletin board near the bull pen. I see it every morning when I get to the station.”
“Be a doll and take that down for me, will you?”
Sal smiled again. “You don’t need my help blending in.”
I wiggled my fake mustache. “Every little bit does, as they say.”
“When you bluewaved, I didn’t think you had it in you to bring me something this big,” Sal said.
“Oh come on… it’s me. The only thing that’s changed since the old days is I’ve learned to work smarter.”
“I heard your folks went straight. How are you getting along without them?”
“Heard that already, have you? News travels. I’m doing better now than I ever did with them. I just never thought I’d see the day my pops changed his tune… bowing and scraping to those law-loving Civs. No offense.”
“You couldn’t offend me if you tried, Mull. These days, I’m just biding my time. Playing the game. I do what I have to do to fit the role, you know?”
“Can’t say I do, Sal.” My tone was chiding.
“You seem to be doing alright for yourself without help from the other side. This is some Class-A stuff. Muller Jakes never disappoints. I’ll take you directly to my buyer so you can make the trade yourself. You know my finder’s fee, of course.”
“When the deal is done, you get your eight percent,” I said.
“It’s been longer than I thought,” said Sal. “It’s ten now.”
I grinned. “Even for an old friend?”
“The heat’s always the same, Mull. Friend or no.”
“That’s fair. Shady deals in dark alleys have their surcharge. So take me to him and let’s get this over with.”
“It’s not a him. It’s a her.”
“Whatever. Money’s like heat—it’s the same in every gender.”
“I’m going to drive across the bridge and park out in the brush. Take a cab and have the driver pick me up on your way. I’ll be waiting at a little diner by the side of the road there. Place called Ollie’s.”
“How far is it outside the city?”
“Not far. Why, you got other plans tonight?”
I hesitated. If I didn’t have to get Sable and the others involved in this, I wouldn’t. “Meeting an old flame.”
“Not Deborah, is it?”
“Nah. Someone else. You don’t know her.”
“Is this a firm appointment? My buyer is a bit of a socialite. We may have to stick around her place for a while to schmooze and make nice on the sale.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “The sale is more important. I can see her another time.”
“Good man. I’m vouching for you, remember. You’ve got to come through for me.”
“You have nothing to worry about there.”
Sal pulled down his hat again. “I didn’t think I did.”
We went our separate ways. I hailed a taxi, one of the late model black ones with the chrome grills that looked like facemasks and the padded bench seating in the back. We pulled over at Ollie’s, where Sal hopped in and gave the driver directions.
From there we blew down the highway and turned off onto a dirt road that wound through the pitch-dark brush for miles. Finally, I saw lights in the distance. A long paved driveway led to an enormous spotlit house, a cold modern veneer of overlapped glass and concrete boxes. The cabbie wanted to charge us enough to have bought the motorcar he was driving. I told him to keep the meter running, and that I’d fund his retirement on the ride back.
In-ground barrel lanterns illuminated the curved front steps, taking us past tiered retaining walls and manicured landscaping. When Sal knocked, a man in a black dinner jacket opened the door and led us into a space that was more gallery than living room. The mistress of the household was draped across the end of a white leather couch, her cigarette holder and bourbon glass clutched in the same hand.
“Sal, darling,” she said, setting her props in and next to the ashtray on the end table. She floated across the room to give him a chaste hug and a pair of kisses on his cheeks.
“Hi, Trudy,” said Sal, accepting the embrace stiffly.
“And this must be that old friend of yours,” Trudy said, offering me a dainty hand.
“Hal Nordstrom,” I said.
“Sal and Hal,” said Trudy, looking back and forth between us. “How poetic. Please, make yourselves at home. We’ve much to discuss. Can I offer either of you something to drink?”
We both declined, taking our seats at the opposite end of the couch. I tried not to grimace in pain as I sat down, or worry too much about whether the damp feeling on my back was soaking past Eliza’s bandages and through to the couch behind. I also took this opportunity to size up the sentinels I’d noticed standing around the edges of the room. Dark men in dark jackets, hands clasped across their fronts, still as stones. I’m not usually one to balk, but they made me uneasy. These were the type of guys who tended to be more augment than flesh.
Trudy snatched up her cigarette and flung herself into one of the armchairs across from us. “Tell me how you’ve been getting on, Sal, my dear.”
“I won’t bore you with that,” he said. His voice had that same stiffness I had noticed in his posture when Trudy had hugged him.
“Oh, nonsense. I must know how things are on the force.”
“Things never change,” Sal said.
“Amelia and the children?”
“Fine.” Sal suddenly looked even less comfortable.
“There’s no need to be reclusive, darling. I hope you haven’t begun to resent me.”
Sal picked at the arm of the sofa. “No.”
“Henderson?” Trudy said, throwing her head over her shoulder to find the pillar of a man standing at the entrance to the hallway.
Henderson shifted inside his sport coat. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Remind Mr. Dominic why we’re all still friends here. And why we’re all going to remain friends for quite some time.”
“Because friends don’t hurt one another,” Henderson said.
“There we are. You see, Sal, my dearest? No one is going to get hurt. Are they?”
Sal shook his head.
“Excellent. I’m thrilled to hear it. So why don’t we give your associate here some time to fill us in on the benefits he can provide to our organization. Care to give us the pitch, Hal? May I call you Hal?”
I nodded.
“Right then. Go on.”
This sounded more to me like the beginning of a job interview than the arranging of a one-time sale. If there was one thing I didn’t want, it was a job. “First off, I don’t know a thing about any organization, nor do I have an interest in joining one. I don’t want to know anything unless it pertains to this specific arrangement, so let’s get that out of the way right now.”
“My… aren’t we direct,” Trudy said. “That’s a refreshing change from what I’m used to.”
“I won’t be here long enough for you to get used to. Sal brought me here as a favor because I have some goods to sell.” I produced a chunk of gravstone and set it on the glass-top coffee table.
Trudy leaned forward, far enough to give me a good look at what she had going on down the fron
t of her low-cut dress—as if she assumed I wanted a look in the first place. She smiled at me when she looked up. I met her eyes and tried not to roll mine.
“What would you like me to do with this?” she asked, turning the rock over in her hands.
“Find a market for it and make it disappear,” I said. “Isn’t that what you do? Sal told me that’s what you did. If he was wrong, just say so and we’ll be on our way.” I put my hands on my thighs as if to stand, and felt every bodyguard in the room tense up.
“Stay where you are, Hal. You’re not only direct; you’re impatient, too. What Sal told you is accurate. What my organization does is to find places to put things. Lately, I’ve only worked when I needed the money. A few rough stones like this might constitute a fortune to some, but the profit margins are small unless I buy in bulk.”
I smiled. “How does four million in street value sound?”
Sal jerked his head around to stare at me, astonished.
Trudy pursed her lips. “It sounds like a purchase that may be worth my while. Where’ve you got this beggar’s fortune stowed away? A compartment where your stomach used to be?”
“Where I’ve got things stowed is none of your concern,” I said. “Are you interested, or aren’t you?”
Just then, the bluewave comm in my pocket sounded. Probably Sable and Dennel, wondering where I was. I shut it off.
“Need to take that?” Trudy asked.
“It can wait.”
She set the gravstone on the table. “The most I can offer you is one million for the lot.”
I snatched up the stone and got to my feet. “Thanks for your time.”
“Sit down,” she said.
I shot her a look. “If that’s your best offer, I have nothing more to say to you.”
“Have a seat, please,” Trudy repeated. “I wish you wouldn’t be so hasty.”
“I wish you wouldn’t talk to me like I was born yesterday,” I said. “I’m not new to the game. I know what kind of hoops an outfit like yours has to jump through to dissolve assets like these, but you’ve got the network in place already. You probably have underlings standing around waiting for any action you might throw their way. Don’t pretend your risk level is any higher just because you don’t need the work. Acquiring the goods was the hard bit, and I’ve already done that for you. All you have to do is buy them and let your carefully-constructed web of dealers make them vanish for you. I’m surprised you even have the nerve to call it work.”
Trudy considered this. “Since you seem to think you know all about my level of risk, why don’t you make me an offer?”
“Two-point-five,” I said. “And Sal’s fee comes out of your cut.”
Trudy gave me a mocking laugh. “You’re putting me off at a slave’s wages. Very well. Two even, and you pay Sal.”
“Okay, two million. But you’re paying Sal’s commission. Without him, this deal never gets presented to you, and you don’t make a chip.”
Trudy turned her gaze to Sal. “What’s your take in all this, my dear?”
Sal gulped, then spoke almost under his breath. “Ten percent.”
“Oh my. No wonder you enjoy these extracurricular activities so. I’m sure the Regency hasn’t padded your salary this well in ten years.”
Sal drew in a self-conscious breath.
“Leave him alone,” I said. “I don’t know what’s got you so far up his keister, but it’s him you should thank the next time you add a new wing to your house.”
“I seem to remember you mentioning you’d be gone before I’d gotten used to you, Hal. One mustn’t forget to take one’s own advice and mind his own business. You will deliver the goods in full to my warehouse in the industrial district on the southeast side of the city. Sal knows the address. A number of gentlemen will be waiting there to inspect the goods. If all is in order, they’ll provide payment to each of you, as agreed.”
“Repeat the numbers for me one more time, would you? Just to be sure we’re remembering things the same.”
Trudy gave me a thin smile. “Two million chips for Mr. Nordstrom, and two-hundred thousand for Mr. Dominic. I trust our memories will serve us with equal perspicuity.”
Sal was stunned. I didn’t think he’d imagined the deal was going to be this big. Trudy had been right about this being a huge bonus for him. But after all, Civs who went crooked did it for more than pocket change.
“You’re a class act, Trudy. Pleasure doing business with you,” I said, shaking her hand.
“You have an interesting way of doing things,” she said. “Usually my suppliers butter me up before our agreement and give me grief about it afterwards. You’ve managed quite the reverse.”
“You get a whole new view of the beaten path when you’re walking it backwards.”
Trudy’s silent sentinels kept their eyes on us all the way to the door, watching like those creepy old paintings in a museum. To my relief and displeasure, the cabbie was still outside, letting his meter tick away toward my wallet’s demise. Before Sal got out at Ollie’s Diner and left me to foot the bill, we arranged to meet up at the Skywalk Jetty in an hour. As soon as he’d shut the cab door, I bluewaved the Galeskimmer.
Dennel McMurtry picked up. “Muller?”
“This is Hal Nordstrom,” I said, reminding him.
“Uh… oh, yes. Hal. Where have you been? You were supposed to meet us two hours ago.”
“My errands took a little longer than I expected. And before you speak freely, you should know that I’m sitting in a cab on my way back to Everwynd. I’m unable to have a private conversation with you at the moment, if you catch my drift.”
The line went dead for a few seconds. “Get back to the boat as soon as you can. We’ve got… problems.”
My chest heaved, the medallion spinning like a top. “Be there as soon as I can.”
“Mull—Hal,” Dennel said. “Hurry back, but don’t go sticking your neck out. Be careful. Do you understand what I mean?”
“I’m pretty sure I do, yeah. Listen, I’ve found someone who wants to take everything we’ve got. The whole lot of it. Whatever’s going on over there, hold out for as long as you can.”
“I think it’s safe. We put it underneath. I’ve got to go now.” Dennel said goodbye and signed off before I could ask him what he meant.
I asked the cabbie how much extra I’d have to pay him to drive recklessly and get me there a few minutes sooner. He said that was out of the question. The way he started eyeing me in his rearview mirror after that made me nervous, so I had him drop me off a few blocks from the jetty and ran the rest of the way.
When I came within sight of the Galeskimmer, Civs were crawling all over it like snails on a dead crab. The boat was full of constables, and there was no sign of Sable or the others. I hid behind the serpentine hull of a torpedo-shaped dirigible and tried bluewaving the ship’s console again. Someone picked up, but a man’s unfamiliar baritone started asking me who this was, so I ended the call.
What I’d forgotten to do was bluewave Sal and warn him.
I didn’t notice him strolling down the dock until after it was too late to jump out and stop him. He arrived at the Galeskimmer’s docking station and began speaking with the sergeant. I crawled forward for a better look as the two men shook hands.
“Detective Inspector Dominic… this is a surprise. Since when do you work nights?”
Sal laughed. “Since every time there’s a case this big. What do you think I do, go home and get eight uninterrupted hours a night? You’ve got a long hard climb ahead if you think detective work is all glory and no guts.”
“And here I was thinking you were just the pretty face they shove into the press room every time there’s bad news to spill. Turns out you’re a real detective after all. I am curious why Higgs interrupted your precious beauty sleep, though. Detective Inspector Jarvis is already here.”
“Weird,” Sal said. “Maybe he figured Jarvis could use a hand. I’ll get it straightened out in t
he morning. You find anything yet?”
“Nothing. The boat matches the description, though. Brought in a whole load of evacuees from Clokesby earlier today. No good deed goes unpunished, huh?”
“Yeah, well. Who’s the owner?”
“Registered to an older gentleman, name of Angus Brunswick. Runs a courier service—or at least, he did. No one seems to have heard from him in months.”
“Boat seems to be running okay without him,” said Sal.
“That’s the confusing part,” said the sergeant. “No one’s reported him missing, and no one’s reported any boats like this being stolen.”
“So someone threw him overboard and took his boat,” Sal concluded.
“That would’ve been my theory, too. Except that this Angus guy has legal guardianship over his niece, a Ms. Sable Brunswick. According to our records, she’d been living on the boat with him. And the woman spotted in the back of the getaway truck on the day of that mine robbery upstream matches her description.”
“You don’t think it’s possible the niece could’ve knocked off her old uncle? Maybe he was messing around with her and she finally had enough of it.”
“Could be, but why wouldn’t she report it as an accident or something?”
“She’s probably been a bad egg since before this whole robbery thing and she didn’t want us poking around.”
“Even so… when there’s a death in the family, don’t you want a convincing story for when you come home and you’re sitting around the holiday goose, and someone goes, ‘Hey, where’s Uncle Angus?’”
Sal laughed. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you? And of course, that begs the question: why did she decide to use her uncle’s boat as an ambulance if she wanted to lay low? You just never know with these criminal types. They tend to be pretty good at hiding in plain sight.”
“Good luck getting to the bottom of this one, Detective Inspector. Something about this doesn’t sit right with me. Smells like foul play at work here, though it’s not my place to butt in on your investigation.”
“Well, thanks for the input all the same,” said Sal. “You’ve given me some things to think about. I’ll be sure to pass them along to Detective Inspector Jarvis if Higgs has it in mind to make us tag-team this one.”
