As Morrish led him into the standard, small space—bed, chair and waste facilities—he sighed. “Come on, Jack. It doesn’t have to be like this. Give us something to work with.”
Jack said nothing.
With a shake of his head, Morrish sealed the door behind him.
Jack headed for the low bed, stripped off his coat, laid it across the chair and clambered upon the bed and lay back, his fingers linked behind his head, ready for a long wait. It wasn’t too bad. As he’d suspected, it was clean and functional, not too different from his old workspace back in the Locality. Hopefully, Billie had gotten his message by now, and she’d know what to do. Sit tight and wait. It was unlikely she’d come looking for him. Since her time living with the fringe dwellers in the Locality, and more with Pinpin Dan, she had a real aversion to authorities. He could hardly see her turning up at the police station of her own volition. It was probably she who had called before. As soon as Laduce had switched off Jack’s handipad, she would have drawn her own conclusions. But maybe, in the meantime, it would give her more time to come up with something.
Meanwhile, Jack was hoping that Morrish and Laduce would tire of this game. He thought they wouldn’t be able to hold him for too long, or at least he hoped they couldn’t. Maybe they could. He shook his head. It was unlikely. Not in a place like Yorkstone. Anyway, he’d be here until the morning at least. Morrish and his partner would be leaving for the day soon. He glanced around, realizing that he had no way of knowing what time it was. With a long low sigh, he settled back and closed his eyes.
Jack spent a dreamless night, despite the similarity of the environment to the places in which he was used to dreaming, the Spartan, featureless nature of his workrooms. There still wasn’t enough to prompt his subconscious mind to lead him down the path he needed to travel. He woke early and spent the time pacing back and forth across the small space, waiting for someone to come and see him. The last contact he’d had was when a uniformed officer had brought him something to eat. He’d merely picked at it, finally gotten sick of looking at it, and disposed of everything, tray and all, into the wall unit.
When someone finally did show up, it was Laduce, rather than Morrish. He entered the small holding cell and looked down at Jack with a smug expression.
“Seems you had a visitor last night, Stein.”
“Huh? Who?” said Jack.
“Young blond girl. A bit wild-eyed, according to the guys on the desk.”
Billie. Billie had actually come to police headquarters?
“So, what are you doing with a girl that age?”
Jack gave him a disgusted look. “You can check if you want. She’s my niece. I left her a message before we left the apartment.”
“Oh, don’t worry, we will check.”
Jack shook his head and reached for his coat. The sooner he could get out of here, the sooner he could do something to divert attention from Billie. He didn’t want her involved.
“I don’t know where you think you’re going,” said Laduce, the smirk still there.
“What do you mean? You can’t hold me here anymore.”
Laduce took a step forward. “That’s where you’re wrong, my friend. We can keep you here as long as we want.”
Jack dropped his coat back on the chair. “Fine. If that’s the way you want to play it. I want to see Morrish.”
“He’s not in yet.”
“I’ll wait,” said Jack, and sat. Laduce gave a sniff and left him there, locking the door behind him.
It was about another half hour before Morrish made an appearance. “Morning, Jack. You’ve had some time to think, I see.”
“Yeah, I slept well, thank you for asking.”
Morrish shook his head, pulled out the chair and sat. Jack knew he had no choice. He was worried about Billie. Already she’d been alone for the night, and there was that little guy hanging around the apartment. If she’d been concerned enough to show up at the police building, he needed to get out of here. Spending another night here wasn’t going to get him anywhere at all. He had to give them something, though it went against everything he normally kept to. He sat back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling before finally looking back at Morrish.
“Okay,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I’m working on a case for some woman called Bridgett Farrell. She wanted me to find this Talbot guy and get back something she thought he’d stolen from her.”
“I see,” said Morrish slowly. “And where is this Farrell woman now?”
“I have no idea,” said Jack with a shrug. “I wish I did.”
Morrish leaned forward on the chair. “Okay, well, where was she?”
“She was staying at the Excelsior.”
Morrish narrowed his eyes and frowned, processing that.
“Yeah, I know,” said Jack. “It’s all screwed up. I know. Talbot was staying there too. I didn’t know that at the time.”
“It doesn’t sound very likely, Stein.” Morrish was staring at him with narrowed eyes, testing for a chink, waiting for him to slip.
“Yeah, I know that too. That’s partly the reason I didn’t want to say anything before I’d worked out what was going on. I was going to sound like an idiot.”
“Uh-huh. And what about this thing Talbot was supposed to have taken?”
Jack shrugged. “Some sort of antique. All I was supposed to do was find Talbot and deliver it to Farrell once I’d gotten hold of it. She didn’t give me much to go on. Whatever it was, it sounded like it was valuable.”
Morrish sat back again, testing what Jack was telling him. Finally he shook his head. “And you had nothing to do with Talbot’s death.”
“Come on, Morrish. What do you think I am?”
There was silence for a couple of seconds. Finally, Morrish heaved a sigh. “Well, we know this Talbot was an antique dealer, so that much makes sense, but I don’t like it. Of course we’re going to have to check your story. Steve’s going to like it even less. If Talbot was supposed to have this artifact, where is it now? Maybe we should search your apartment, Jack.”
Jack responded with a slight shrug.
There was a pause as Morrish considered his reaction. After a moment, Morrish stood. “Okay, I’m going to let you out. Maybe against my better judgment. Don’t go too far away. We might want to talk to you again soon.”
“Thanks,” said Jack.
Morrish waited while Jack pulled on his coat. “Go home. Get yourself cleaned up. If you’re smart, you’ll stay out of it. And on the way out, stay out of Steve’s way, okay?”
“Yeah,” said Jack. Right now, the prospect of getting back to the apartment, climbing into a hot shower and checking that Billie was okay was foremost in his mind, not necessarily in that order. Laduce could think what he wanted.
Eight
“Jack? Is that you?”
Billie appeared in the kitchen doorway, one hand behind her back.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
She slowly withdrew the hand, revealing a large knife.
“You can put that down, I think. Not a good idea anyway, Billie.”
She slowly slipped the knife away out of view. “I was worried.” With her free hand, she pushed her hair out of her face. “And there’s been this guy hanging around outside. I could see him from the window. He couldn’t see me.”
“He bothering you?”
She gave a slight shrug. “Dunno.”
“What did he look like?”
“Short. Brown coat. Brown hair. Kind of ordinary.”
“I think I know the man you mean. I’ve seen him too.”
Jack shrugged off his coat and let it fall over the back of the couch. Billie stepped forward and touched his arm.
“I tried to call you.”
“Yeah, I know. That bastard Laduce took away my handipad. At least I got it back before they let me go. You did more than that though, didn’t you?”
She looked down at her feet.
“Well, listen, I really appreciate i
t, Billie. There was no need to come down there, you know?”
She looked up, nodded, and stepped back again.
“Listen, Billie, I need to take a shower, get into something clean. Then we can talk, okay?”
“I found out some stuff,” she said. She was checking his face, his body, clearly testing to see if he was all right.
“Look, I’m okay,” he said, heading for the shower. “Let’s have a look at what you’ve got when I get out.”
She gave a quick nod, her teeth pressed against her lower lip, and then disappeared into her own room, leaving him to it.
Jack took his time under the shower, letting the sharp, hot stream pound away at the stiffness he’d developed sitting and lying in the same position in the police cell. There hadn’t been much space to move around in there. He felt a need to get clean, feel fresh, and he even took the time to shave. A while later he emerged, feeling somewhat human and smelling slightly less like something half dead. Billie was waiting for him, her position and expression telling him that she’d relaxed a little bit. She was still checking him out as he sat.
“So, what did they want?”
Jack sighed. “You know what they’re like. They can’t work out things for themselves so they have to point the finger at someone. They think I had something to do with Talbot’s death.”
She pursed her lips.
“Anyway, tell me what you’ve found out.”
“Uh-huh.” She turned her attention to the screen. “File. Mandala.”
Step by step, Billie guided the screen through various pictures and images. The information she’d gathered was comprehensive. Mandala itself was an oxygen-rich world, fifth in a system of planets having six in total. Its sun was slightly toward the blue end of the spectrum, but far enough away from Mandala itself to make it habitable, if a little warm. There was a thriving colony there, and they’d used the weather patterns and vast stretches of unspoiled landscape to sell the place as a playground destination for the rich and famous, where they could vacation undisturbed by those less well-off than themselves.
“Okay, so that’s Mandala. Funny place for an archeological site,” said Jack. “It doesn’t look like it’s the sort of planet that would encourage it. How do they deal with the tourists?”
Billie shrugged. “This is the site. There’s not much I could find. They use it as an attraction. Tours and stuff. Exclusive visits with tour guides. I found a few articles and things, but they don’t seem to know very much about it.”
“Well, how the hell can it be a tourist attraction?” said Jack.
Billie shrugged. “Something to do with being exclusive, I guess. Only give it to people who can afford it.”
A picture blossomed on the wall and Jack leaned forward. From what he could make out—the image was not very clear—large square structures stood grouped in fours, side by side, clustered buildings. They were blocky and thick, square in shape, and apart from small doorways at their bases, they seemed to have no other features. He couldn’t tell how big they were. The doors could be as tall as buildings on their own. There were no internal shots.
“Well, that doesn’t tell us much. Do you know what they’re finding there?”
She shrugged. “Too hard. I need some more time.”
“Okay, Billie. That’s good. Is there anything else?”
“Uh-huh. Whoever is paying for all this work doesn’t want people to find out. There’s the university, but the real funding is coming from another company. It’s a shell and there’s a trail, but I don’t know where it ends. I couldn’t find it yet.”
“Anything about the artifact?”
She grinned. “There was a tiny news article about stuff being stolen from the site. I nearly missed it.”
“Uh-huh.” Now they were getting somewhere. “Did they say anything else?”
“Yeah. Something about archeological significance.”
“I bet there was. Hmm, okay, I think things are starting to come together. I’m not sure how yet, but this is great, Billie.”
She seemed to be waiting for something.
“Well . . .”
“The university, Jack.”
“What about it?”
“UBC. The University of Balance City.”
“Utrecht,” they said together.
She sat back and crossed her arms triumphantly. Jack nodded slowly and, just as slowly, he started to grin.
Talbot came from Utrecht. The archeological team was from Utrecht. There was the connection.
Jack stood and started pacing. He was thinking, and Billie sat watching as he worked it through in his head. He paced around the living room and into the office. He was being stupid. Of course there was a link between Farrell and Talbot, but if he had stolen the artifact from her, what were they doing in the same hotel? Who was to say that she’d even had the damned thing in the first place? The whole family heirloom story was becoming less and less likely. As was the fact that she’d hired him. Why in the hell would she hire someone like Jack to track down someone who was staying at the same hotel? That still didn’t make sense.
Jack scratched at the back of his head and looked out the window and stopped in midaction. Across the other side of the street, standing in the doorway, was the guy who seemed to have been appearing everywhere over the last couple of days. Something nasty was working in the depths of Jack’s guts. He curled his lip. The man was clearly watching the windows. Jack couldn’t tell if he could see him, but right now, he didn’t care. He was going to do something about this. He walked back into the living room and grabbed his coat.
Billie looked suddenly panicked.
“It’s all right,” said Jack. “It’s about time I found out what our little friend wants.”
He strode quickly to the front door, out to the elevator, and down to the street. He wanted to catch his new friend by surprise. Once in the lobby he paused, hanging back, giving a quick surreptitious glance around the doorway, confirming that the guy was still there. He was, still staring up at the windows. Jack dashed across the street. He was fully two-thirds of the way across, his coat flying behind him, when the man looked down and noticed. His bland round face paled, his jaw dropped open, and he reached into his coat and started backing away. Jack was on him in an instant. He pushed, his hand flat in the man’s chest, forcing him back.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
The little man’s gaze flickered nervously from side to side, his hand still buried in his coat pocket.
Jack shoved again. “Come on. Talk,” he said from between closed teeth, reinforcing the words with yet another shove. The man’s face went from shocked to hostile.
“I wouldn’t do that,” he said quietly. “Not if you know what’s good for you.”
“Is that right?” said Jack, giving another shove.
The man was a good head shorter than Jack, but Jack felt no qualms about monstering him. Jack didn’t like being watched, and he liked it even less when Billie was involved.
The little man had had enough. He shoved forward with the hand buried in his right jacket pocket, and Jack felt something hard pressing against his abdomen. The guy looked down significantly at the bulge and then back at Jack’s face.
In one quick motion, Jack seized the guy’s jacket, pulling the shoulders back and down around his arms. Then he slapped him, hard, once, twice.
“You go away now, little man,” said Jack. “Don’t come back until you’re ready to play with the big boys.”
The guy’s eyes widened and his face blanched again, this time in fury, the marks of Jack’s hands standing out clear and red on his cheeks. Even though his arms were pinned by his own jacket, he shoved forward with whatever he had in his pocket.
“You’re going to be sorry.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that. You go and tell whoever you’re working for that if he wants to talk to Jack Stein, then he should talk to Jack Stein. He shouldn’t send his lackeys.” He grabbed a good handful of jack
et and shook. “You got that?”
The fury grew. Jack slapped him again, and in the next motion, he spun the little man around, dug his hand into the right jacket pocket and wrenched the obvious weapon out of the guy’s hand. He grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around. He waved a nasty little gun in the guy’s face.
“And before you start playing with toys, you better learn how to use them.” He gave him another slap and pushed him out of the lobby entrance and onto the street. “Now get. Don’t come back.” He shoved the gun deep into his pocket and watched as their erstwhile watcher pulled his jacket back on, adjusting it as he walked quickly up the street, looking back over his shoulder with a glare of absolute hostility. Jack stared back. Whoever he was, this guy was just what he’d said, a lackey. He was the sort who wouldn’t spit without his master’s permission.
He was just about to head back over to the apartment when he had a thought. He dug in his pocket and drew out the gun, turning it over and over. No way was this the weapon that had seen to Carl Talbot. This would put a small and nasty hole in someone, but it wasn’t going to take off half a face and an arm. He put the gun away again and crossed the road, first checking to see that their watcher was truly gone. A couple of minutes later, he was back up in the apartment.
“Well, I don’t think he’s going to be bothering us again. At least not for a while.” He tossed the gun onto the low table. Billie reached for it. “No,” said Jack quickly. “Leave that alone.” He leaned over and swept it away, shoving it up into a high shelf. She knew it was there, but he thought she’d take his warning. Billie wasn’t stupid.
“What did you do?” she said.
“Just showed him that he needs to be a little more respectful of other people’s privacy. I sent him away, back to his boss with his tail between his legs.”
“His boss?”
“That sort always has a boss. Can’t do anything on their own. Somehow, I think we’re going to be getting another call. Maybe I’m wrong, but you know . . . I’ve got this feeling . . .” He grinned and turned away. Billie just shook her head.
Metal Sky Page 8
