Cade 1

by Neil Hunter

  ‘TJ., your taste in clothing lacks a certain, err, refinement. I look like a funeral director at a rained-out burial.’

  ‘You got me there, partner,’ Cade said. ‘Dr. Landers, thanks for your help.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  Janek ran a hand over his new skin. ‘Nice work, doctor. Thank you,’ he said, and followed Cade out the door.

  ‘Where to, T.J.?’

  ‘The department office,’ Cade said. ‘Time for you to talk to some of your computer buddies.’

  They picked up an air cab outside the Cybo Tech building. It swept out across the rain-streaked canyons of the city, silently gliding between the soaring skyscrapers and elevated roads, heading down toward the Civic Center, where the Justice Department had its New York headquarters. The original site of the Civic Center had been redesigned five years previously and a new, fourteen-story structure erected where the old Federal Building had stood. The Justice Marshal Department had the top six floors of the building.

  The cab dropped Cade and Janek on the rooftop pad. They made their way to the elevator bank and took the car that was available only for Justice Department officials. The car dropped to the twelfth floor, the doors sliding open to admit them to the humidified atmosphere of the department.

  ‘What do you want me to look for?’

  Janek asked as he followed Cade into their office.

  ‘I want a tie between Treat or Dolan and whoever is running this Darksider deal,’ Cade said.

  ‘Because they were the only ones to be in contact with Stenner before Feldstet and Miles showed up?’ Janek said.

  ‘Yeah. The time period is too damn small for anyone else to have been involved. The way the desk sergeant acted at the precinct cuts him out, and the place is too busy for anyone else to take much notice of such a small-time crook.’ Cade dropped into his swivel chair. ‘I’m going on instinct, Janek. Let’s try for a connection between the two patrolmen and whoever is footing the payroll.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Me?’ Cade grinned. ‘I’m putting my feet up and taking it easy.’

  ‘Typical,’ Janek muttered as he headed for the side office and his computers. ‘I thought we had a fifty-fifty partnership going here.’

  ‘Hey, did I tell you that?’

  Janek glanced over his shoulder. ‘You know damn well you did.’

  ‘Looks like I told another lie,’ Cade said.

  Janek settled down at his computer banks, making a fingertip electronic link with the machines.

  Still smiling, Cade fished a pack of cigars from his desk and lit one. He turned to the computer unit on his own desk and switched it on. He called up the New York directory, tapping into the display for the underground tunnel systems. He sat and scanned the complex maze of subway tunnels, service and access tunnels, the abandoned networks, the different levels that lay deep beneath the city. The folklore of the tunnels and the people said to inhabit them went back years, well into the previous century. The legends had been created, retold and elaborated over the decades, until no one knew the truth anymore. But there was one undeniable truth. Thousands did live beneath the city. They were born, existed and died there. Some, who lived at the lowest levels, never saw the light of day.

  They lived in near darkness, away from the sunlight. They were able to see in the dark, it was said. If they were brought into the open, they would cower in terror, begging to be returned to their shadow world.

  The Darksiders were shunned by the rest of society. No one bothered about them one way or another. The underground dwellers didn’t intrude on daily life, so they were left alone. Ignored. Forgotten by most.

  But suddenly they were Cade’s problem because there appeared to be some kind of unusual criminal activity - aside from the standard stuff - going on that involved the Darksiders. There had already been deaths and attempted murder - and Cade had a personal stake in the matter now.

  Kate Bannion.

  He was still staring at the monitor when Janek came back into the office. He stood in front of Cade’s desk, holding a computer printout in his hand.

  ‘I think we have our connection, T.J.,’ he said.

  Cade took the sheet and scanned the mass of printed information. ‘Tell me in simple words,’ Cade said.

  ‘The information on Dolan is very interesting. He’s the same rank as his partner, so that means he’s on the same salary. However, when I accessed his bank account, the computer asked me which one. It appears our friend Dolan has a second account. Different bank in another part of the state. This one has quite substantial amounts of money in it. He opened it a couple of years ago and has been depositing cash payments on a regular basis ever since.’

  ‘Looks like Officer Dolan has been a busy boy,’ Cade said.

  ‘Not too smart, though,’ Janek said. ‘He did open a second account out of town, but he still used his own name and address.’

  ‘Dolan’s greedy, but he’s obviously a guy with limited intelligence. Probably figured a bank out of town would be safe, but he didn’t have the imagination to give himself an alias. What does that tell you about a law-enforcement officer who deals with criminals in his work?’

  ‘He hasn’t learned very much,’ Janek said, ‘or maybe he learned not to trust anyone. Keeping the second account in his name makes it easier to get at. You don’t have to go to the extremes of dreaming up a new identity.’

  ‘We can ask him when we drop by to see him,’ Cade said.

  ‘I made a check, and he’s off duty today. He lives on the West Side, just off Columbus Avenue. Apartment D2, third floor.’

  Cade bounded to his feet and snatched up his jacket. ‘Let’s go check out a new car and take a ride.’

  Chapter Six

  They saw the police air cruisers before they reached Dolan’s apartment building. There were street cruisers parked outside the building, and a barrier already locked off the entrance.

  A uniformed officer halted their car.

  Janek showed his badge as he and Cade climbed out, pulling on waterproof coats against the rain that was still falling.

  ‘You got an interest in this?’ the officer asked.

  ‘If it’s to do with Officer Dolan, we have,’ Cade said.

  ‘Looks like you’re too late,’ the patrolman said. ‘We got the call because somebody heard shooting. By the time we responded, it was all over.’

  ‘Dead?’ Janek asked.

  ‘Wouldn’t you be with a full clip of .44 slugs in you? Somebody really wanted Dolan dead.’ The officer’s voice was taut with anger, and both Cade and Janek knew that there would be a lot of anger expressed over Dolan’s death. It was a case of one of their own being murdered.

  Cade figured he’d keep his suspicions about Dolan’s illegal dealings to himself at that point.

  Janek nudged his elbow. ‘No point in mentioning Dolan’s extra pay is there, T.J.?’ he said softly, anticipating Cade’s thoughts.

  ‘No. We’ll keep that between you and me for the time being?

  A plainclothes detective came out of the building. Stocky and bullnecked, he pushed his way through the barrier, snapping orders to the assembled officers.

  He spotted Cade and Janek and crossed to meet them, pulling up the collar of his crumpled topcoat. Cade had known him for a long time, and he maintained a sparring relationship with the man.

  ‘Hey there, T.J. How’s it rolling for you?’

  ‘Fine, Milt.’

  Milt Schuberg glanced at Janek. ‘See you still got the tin man partnering you. Don’t you ever get tired of having the damn thing trailing around in your shadow?’

  ‘Janek and me get along just great, Milt.’

  ‘Fucked if I can understand wanting a tin man for a backup. What’s wrong with a real partner?’

  ‘You can’t switch them off when they talk too much,’ Cade said dryly. ‘Now, what have you got on Dolan’s murder?’

  ‘Who said it was murder?’ Schuberg asked defiantly.<
br />
  ‘It sure as hell isn’t suicide, Milt.’

  ‘Yeah, well, we don’t have too much yet. Whoever did it just kicked his door off its hinges and went in blasting. Shot Dolan so full of holes he just about leaked all his blood over the carpet.’

  ‘Did anyone see or hear anything concerning the perp?’ Janek asked

  Schuberg looked up at the cyborg.

  When he spoke, his voice had lost its normal tone. He spoke to Janek as if he were addressing a pet animal.

  ‘Why, yes. One man in the street saw him running out. The bad guy got in a panel truck and it went down the street. That way. Very fast. You get all that?’

  Janek nodded. ‘And I’m pleased you’re at least trying to overcome that annoying speech impediment, Detective Schuberg. T.J., I’ll go and talk to the witness.’

  As Janek walked off, Schuberg rounded on Cade. ‘You let him speak like that to people? Son of a bitch wants his ass kicked! Stupid tin freak.’

  ‘Seems to me you asked for it. Why don’t you quit this thing you’ve got against cybos?’

  ‘Say what you like, T.J. I just don’t feel right with ‘em around.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, that’s your problem. Mine’s checking out Dolan’s murder.’

  ‘Why is the Justice Department interested in a NYPD cop getting blown away?’

  ‘It’s against the law, Milt. Surely even you know that,’ Cade replied, and left it at that.

  ‘So you are going to play clam?’ Schuberg’s tone changed. ‘I got a right to know, T.J.’

  ‘Only if I decide you have.’

  ‘T.J., I can take this higher,’ Schuberg said, waving a thick finger at Cade.

  ‘I don’t have time to argue, Milt.’ Cade turned away and crossed to where Janek was completing his questioning of the witness. ‘Anything?’

  Janek nodded for Cade’s benefit, then dismissed the witness. ‘Thank you for your cooperation, sir.’

  Returning to their car, Janek waited until they were out of earshot of the local police, and especially Schuberg, who was staring in their direction.

  ‘The killer ran out of the building, still carrying his gun. I guess he figured it would keep people away. A panel truck was waiting for him. It was painted black, T.J., and had a starred windshield.’

  ‘The truck you encountered was black,’ Cade said. ‘And you laid a few shots into the windshield.’

  ‘Our witness managed to recall some of the numbers on the license plate. They tied with the ones I recorded.’

  ‘I didn’t get time to ask before, but did you run a check on it back at the office?’

  Janek smiled thinly. ‘The panel truck is registered to a freight company in Newark.’

  ‘You got a look at the perps you tangled with. Did your witness ID the guy who ran out of Dolan’s building?’

  ‘Yes. His description was sketchy, but it matched one of the gunmen at the Feldstet and Miles building.’

  ‘Enough for you to run a computer match?’

  ‘I believe so.’

  Schuberg caught up with them as they reached the car.

  ‘Gimme a break, T.J.,’ he said. ‘You know how jumpy everybody gets when one of our own is killed. You got anything?’

  Cade shook his head. ‘Only a description of the perp. Your boys will already have that. We’ll run it through our computer and see if anything shows. If it does, I’ll give you a call.’

  ‘Okay,’ Schuberg said. He looked cold and wet and none too happy.

  ‘I’m sorry about Officer Dolan,’ Janek said.

  ‘Yeah, thanks,’ Schuberg replied without realizing who he was talking to.

  ‘Milt, as a matter of interest,’ Cade said. ‘What do you know about Connor? Captain over at UCS.’

  ‘I know enough to stay away from the mother. Word of warning, T.J., if you get mixed up with Connor, watch your back. He’s a hard one. I’ve heard it rumored he’s not too straight, either, but no one has the guts to say it to his face. UCS is a tough outfit.’

  Schuberg’s craggy face froze. He stared at Cade for a moment, then gave a thin smirk.

  ‘You son of a bitch,’ he said. ‘I heard that a couple of UCS men got downed. You know something about that? What’s going on, T.J.? It got anything to do with Dolan?’

  ‘Right now, Milt, I’m not sure. And at is the truth.’

  ‘Christ, T.J., Connor’s going to be after your hide. You watch it, buddy, and I mean that.’

  ‘I’ll be in touch,’ Cade said, then reached for the cruiser’s door and slipped behind the wheel. He fired the engine and look off with a screech of tires.

  ‘Isn’t it time you took a refresher course for driving?’ Janek asked as he strapped himself in. ‘You tend to be irresponsible behind the wheel of a car.’

  ‘Me? Irresponsible? Janek, you’ve got a nerve.’

  ‘Only humans have nerves. That’s why they’re so touchy. Makes them bad tempered as well.’

  Janek slumped back in his seat, eyes half-closed, and Cade knew he’d called up his jazz circuit. The cyborg’s lips curved in a satisfied smile, his head moving slightly as he lost himself in the rhythm of a tune Cade couldn’t even hear.

  Cade petulantly fished out a cigar. He fired it up and deliberately blew a cloud of smoke in Janek’s direction. He saw his partner’s nose twitch as he inhaled the aroma, but even that failed to intrude on his relaxed condition.

  In retribution Cade stomped hard on the gas pedal, sending the car speeding back downtown, the siren screaming to clear a way. As he weaved in and out of the traffic, the cruiser wreathed in a permanent mist of spray from the wet street, Cade noticed with triumph that Janek’s right hand was gripping the edge of his seat. If it had been possible, Janek’s knuckles would have turned white.

  Back at the office it took Janek exactly eight minutes to come up with an ID picture of the suspect. He fed his stored image of the perp directly into the office computer, linked to the national information bank in Washington Central. The network’s data store digested the computer directives and matched it to Washington’s files.

  ‘Jak Regis. Forty-five years old. Local hard case. Spent most of his teen years on correction farms. Graduated to violent crime once he got himself established in New York. Built himself a rep as a gun hand. Linked to a number of killings but never indicted. He has powerful friends, T.J. Whenever he’s been picked up for questioning, there has always been a lawyer around to bail him out. None of his arrests have ever reached court.’

  ‘Who represents him?’ Cade asked.

  ‘A lawyer called Lippin.’

  ‘Max Lippin?’ Cade asked, and when Janek nodded, he said, ‘There’s something fishy here, Janek. Max Lippin is strictly skidsville. The guy’s so dumb he can hardly write his own name. If he’s working bail for Regis, then he’s fronting for someone higher up. No way Max Lippin is playing solo. That little shyster is operating out of his league.’

  The vid-phone burst into life. Cade snatched up the handset and watched the angry face of Captain Connor emerge from the static.

  ‘What the fuck is going on, Cade? I’ve been trying to get in contact all damn day. Where the hell do you Justice jockeys hide out?’

  ‘It’s a busy life, Connor. Right now I’m even busier, so what do you want?’

  ‘Don’t play dumb-ass with me, buster. Last night you killed one of my men and totaled a cybo.’

  ‘You forgot to mention the gun hands your boy had with him,’ Cade said. ‘And the fact they tried to blow me off the highway?

  ‘That’s what you say, Cade,’ Connor yelled. ‘But they can’t speak for themselves. Look, mister, I don’t give a shit who you work for. Leave my people alone.’

  ‘Connor, I told you last night, and I’ll tell you again. My prisoner was taken away by your people. An unauthorized removal and you know it, so don’t play the bullyboy with me. You might scare the local cops, but it won’t work with me. I’m still digging into this mess, Connor. If I find anything that suggests you
’re less than lily-white, I’ll be calling in at your office. Now, chew on that, Captain!’

  Cade slammed the phone down, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. ‘Let’s go,’ he said to Janek. ‘If we move fast, we can pick Lippin up at his favorite afternoon haunt.’

  The rain still sluiced down out of a darkening sky as Cade rolled the cruiser to a stop at the curb. They were in the dingy streets behind Times Square. Here, away from the main drag, were the strip joints and massage parlors. Shabby theaters proclaimed the best porn movies in town. Holographic images of naked couples enticed the customers through the doors. The narrow streets were littered with trash and abandoned cars.

  Streetwalkers wandered back and forth, their painted faces and vacant eyes revealing the hopelessness of their lives.

  ‘Why doesn’t the city do something about places like this, T.J.?’ Janek asked.

  ‘Costs money, partner, and the city council hasn’t been able to balance the books for years. Come on, Janek, you’ve studied New York’s social history. The city’s made a career out of going bankrupt.’

  They pushed past the shambling derelicts and raucous prostitutes, then Cade turned in at the entrance to a garish theater.

  ‘We’re going in here?’ Janek asked.

  ‘Maybe you’re too young and sensitive for this,’ Cade said.

  ‘Don’t bet on it.’

  The big man at the door blocked their way.

  ‘You didn’t pay,’ he growled. He was over six feet tall and almost as wide. His near-bald skull seemed to protrude over his small, cold eyes as he hunched forward.

  ‘Janek, explain,’ Cade said. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with the guy, so he took the easy option.

  Janek said, ‘We’re Justice Marshals, and we need to take a look inside.’

  The doorman grinned, showing a set of gleaming synthetic teeth. ‘You want to get your rocks off, you pay like everyone else.’

  Janek smiled thinly. ‘T.J., where do they come up with these throwbacks?’

  The doorman’s brain lurched into first gear, and he scowled at Janek.