Metal Sky

by Jay Caselberg

  “How’s your soup?”

  “Yeah,” she said, nodding after tasting it. “Good.”

  He took a small taste of the terrine, closing his eyes briefly as the small piece melted and filled his mouth with flavor, rich, earthy. It had been too long. He opened his eyes again, looking across at Billie concentrating on her soup. He took another mouthful, briefly indulged in the sensation again. God, he could get used to this.

  He took a deep breath, laid his utensils down, and folded his hands in front of him.

  “Billie, look at me for a minute, will you?”

  She too laid down her spoon and met his gaze.

  “Look, you want me to stop treating you like a kid, then you’ve got to stop acting like one. Yeah, we work well together. Yeah, I say we’re partners. But we’re not going to work as partners if you keep putting on these little performances. Sulking, stamping off into your room, locking yourself away, not telling me what I’m supposed to have done. I’ve told you before, I rely on you for lots of things. You’re so good at the stuff you do, Billie. Far better than I could possibly be. I think it’s really lucky that we found each other. Maybe one of the luckiest things that’s happened over the last couple of years. I just need you to work on acting like someone who really is a partner, not some little girl playing at being all adult and responsible.”

  She picked up her spoon and started playing with the soup, stirring it around and around, looking down at the bowl.

  “What do you want, Billie? What do you really want?”

  She looked up at him then, the motion with her spoon halted.

  “How should I know?” she said. “How am I supposed to know what I want? I’m not some tough guy running around solving cases. I’m just a kid, Jack. I’m fourteen. That’s all.” Her face was threatening something, her bottom lip working as she looked at him.

  “Jesus, Billie,” he said, rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “I know.” He shook his head. “And I’m not any better at this than you are either. How am I supposed to know?” He gave a heavy sigh. “Look at us. We’re not very good, are we?”

  She gave a little shake of her head.

  Jack ran his fingers back through his hair as he thought about what he wanted to say next. “Listen, I want to make sure you’re happy. I don’t know how to do that, but I can learn. It’s got to work both ways though. You’ve got to work with me. You have to let me know what’s going on in your head as well. And I promise I’ll think about it more, talk to you more about what I’m thinking. Just sometimes I have to work things through before I can put them into words. Can you understand that?”

  She nodded slowly.

  “But like I said,” he continued, “I need you to help me out. If I’m not telling you stuff, or you think I’m not, then you’ve got to let me know. Tell me. Don’t just go storming off into your room and giving me the big chill. That’s not going to help anything.”

  Again she nodded.

  “Are you happy with me, Billie?”

  She narrowed her eyes, then gave a little shrug. “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, I’m happy with you, happy having you around. Sometimes it’s not easy though, you know. We do work well together, I think. I just worry that I can’t give you enough of what you need. I don’t know if it’s any sort of life for you. Do you understand?”

  She thought about that for a moment; then her eyes widened a little bit. “You’re not going to send me away? I don’t want that. I don’t want to go away.”

  “No, Billie, that’s not what I’m saying.” He had wondered about whether that’s what she needed, about whether that was the answer to what was troubling him, but he wasn’t going to tell her that now. “You’re getting older,” he said slowly. “I’m just not sure I can give you what you need.”

  Jack turned his attention back to his starter, allowing her some space to think about what he was saying. After a couple of minutes, she spoke again.

  “Jack, I don’t want to go anywhere else,” she said.

  He looked up at her, held her gaze. “Okay, good,” he said. “But I want you to think about that and make sure it’s what you really want. And if it turns out to be the case, you’ve got to promise me that you’ll work at what I said.”

  “You too,” she said back.

  He nodded. “Yep.”

  “Now, finish your soup,” he said. “It’s too good to waste.”

  He watched her as they polished off the first course, but she seemed okay with what they’d been saying. Their waiter reappeared and cleared the plates. Jack took the opportunity to broach the other thing that had been weighing on his mind.

  “There is one more thing,” he said. She stopped her observation of the room and turned her face back to look at him.

  “Hmm . . . ?”

  “I don’t think Yorkstone is the place for us, Billie. We don’t fit here, really, do we?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “What do you mean, maybe?”

  “Where are we supposed to go? It’s okay here.” She shrugged again.

  “Well,” he said, “am I right or am I wrong?”

  “I suppose . . .”

  “Okay,” said Jack. “It’s something I want you to think about too. I don’t know the answer yet, but we need to come up with a solution. Cases like this last one aren’t going to come up every week. Not here. Not in Yorkstone. It was just chance that made it happen here. I don’t want to spend the next couple of years looking for lost dogs. I don’t think you want that either.”

  “Maybe you should do something else.”

  He frowned. It was something he hadn’t thought about. He wasn’t sure it was something he wanted to think about. Jack Stein doing something else? It just didn’t seem right.

  “Is that what you really think?”

  She gave a shrug in answer.

  At that moment their steaks arrived, filling the space with the scent of rich sauce and well-cooked food. They looked like they were done to perfection.

  “Well, maybe we’ve both got things to think about,” said Jack. “Right now, let’s just eat and enjoy.”

  She nodded, staring at him, but it was a long time before she broke her gaze and picked up her knife and fork.

  Twenty-Seven

  When they got back to the apartment, Billie at least seemed in a little better mood. Jack was thankful for that much. He felt like he’d eaten and drunk more than he had in years, overstuffed, but it was a good feeling. Jack ushered her in, trying not to catch the yawn that escaped from her mouth as they walked inside and closed the front door. They’d barely stepped into the living room when the system announced a call. Jack shrugged off his coat, frowning. It was late for anyone to be calling. It wasn’t the police again though; the tone would have been different.

  “Answer.”

  An unfamiliar face appeared on the wall, a gray corporate type, serious expression. Jack didn’t recognize the face at all.

  “This is Jack Stein,” he said. “How can I help you?”

  “Mr. Stein. Hello. You don’t know me. The name’s Thorpe.”

  Billie had taken up position on one of the armchairs and was watching suspiciously.

  “So, what can I do for you, Mr. Thorpe?”

  “It’s a slightly delicate matter, Mr. Stein . . . I tried to call you earlier, but it appears you weren’t around.”

  Jack sat in one of the free chairs and crossed his legs. If it was a case and this was a potential client, he could take Jack Stein as he found him. He’d had enough pretense over the past couple of weeks to last a lifetime.

  “I’m listening,” he said. “And before you ask, this is my niece. It’s perfectly okay to talk in front of her. We work together. It’s a package.”

  He glanced across at Billie, and she was almost grinning. Almost.

  The man called Thorpe nodded. “All right. The reason for my call, Mr. Stein, is that I understand you’ve been involved in a case recently . . .”


  Jack leaned forward. “Whether I have or haven’t, I’m not sure what that’s got to do with you, Mr. Thorpe.”

  Thorpe cleared his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Um, yes. Well, let’s just say I believe you’ve been working on something that’s of some importance to us.”

  This was suddenly getting interesting.

  “And who might ‘us’ be?”

  “I represent a large corporation. It doesn’t matter which corporation at this time, Mr. Stein. Suffice it to say, we have interests in something you may have acquired recently.”

  “Okay, go on . . .”

  “We would be very eager to have that item in our possession.”

  Jack laughed. “Don’t tell me. Wait. It’s a metal tablet about sooooo big.” He spread his hands in illustration. “Is that right?”

  “Ahh,” said Thorpe. “I see you know what I’m talking about. Good. I have indeed called the right man, then. We would like to make sure the item was returned to us.”

  Jack stood. Interesting that he’d used the term “returned.” “I’m sure you would. Exactly how interested are you, Mr. Thorpe?”

  Thorpe didn’t even blink. “I’m sure we could come to some arrangement.”

  “Well, how about this?” said Jack. “How about you convince me that the item belongs to you in the first place. How about that?”

  Thorpe stared out from the wall. He took a couple of seconds to answer. “I can assure you that we have a legitimate claim. All that really needs to be established is how much it will take for you to release it to us.”

  Jack turned away from the wall, took a couple of paces and then turned back. “Okay, I’ve got another question for you then.” He drew the moment out. Thorpe was watching attentively. “Does the name Van der Stegen mean anything to you? Or maybe Warburg?”

  Thorpe paled visibly, then regained his composure. Jack wondered how that whole Outreach Industries power play had ended up. Whether Warburg was still around. Probably. Probably very little had changed in the big corporate. Van der Stegen and Warburg were still probably playing their little games together, juggling for position even now.

  “I think that’s immaterial,” said Thorpe. “All you need to know is that we have a legitimate interest in the object and we’re prepared to pay for its return.”

  Jack nodded slowly. “So tell me how you knew to contact me.”

  “We have our resources, Mr. Stein.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you do. Well, I’m afraid I’ve got some disappointing news for you, Mr. Thorpe. News that I’m sure you’ll enjoy passing on to your bosses. I don’t actually have the object in question anymore.”

  Thorpe’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Right about now, I think it’s probably very safe where it is and it’s not going to be going anywhere in a hurry. I would say it’s probably quite comfortable sitting in some evidence room at the Yorkstone police building. If your bosses would like to negotiate with them, then tell them to feel free. I don’t think they actually own the Yorkstone police. And that’s about all the help I can give you. Now, you can go away and leave us alone. Oh, and give them my regards, will you?”

  Jack didn’t give Thorpe a chance to say another word. He ended the call and turned to look slowly at Billie. She was watching him with an expression he could almost think was respect.

  Slowly, he walked over and stood in front of her. “At least that’s going to frustrate Outreach. Even if they try and get the artifact back from the police, it’s not going to be much use to them, and who knows how long it’s going to last anyway.” He shrugged. “But even if it does hold together for a while longer, it’s not going to be any good to them.”

  She nodded. “You meant to do that all along, didn’t you?” she said.

  Jack nodded, watching her expression.

  “You could have told me what you were planning,” she said. There was clearly something warring within her. “It’s not fair that you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

  “No, Billie, listen. It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t really sure myself till right at the end. You, of course, helped me get there. I wouldn’t have managed it without you. But I needed everything to be right. It wasn’t that I couldn’t trust you; I couldn’t trust myself. And with that Galvin woman involved . . .”

  “I knew it!” she said.

  He shook off the implicit accusation.

  “Okay, look. The final thing I want to do is this . . . I want to put together all the dream notes I’ve made, all of the research stuff, everything into one package. I’ve made a start on it, but there’s still some work to do.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said. “What for?”

  He crouched down in front of her. “Well . . . I don’t know if it’ll be any use, but just in case it is, I want to send the whole lot, one big package, to Dr. Hervé Antille at the University of Balance City. What do you say?”

  She stared at him for a moment, then smiled. She leaned forward and threw her arms around his neck. “That’s great, Jack,” she said. “That’s really great. Thank you.”

  She withdrew her arms and sat back again, still smiling, but looking slightly awkward. She bit her lip. “Can we do it now?” she said a moment later.

  “Sure,” he said, and stood, this time returning her smile with a little more ease. “As soon as I have the rest of the notes together.”

  Things were going to work out just fine. He didn’t need any strange sensation working in the back of his brain telling him it was the case. He could just feel it.

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven