Death in the Hallows (Hank Mossberg, Private Ogre Book 2)

by Jamie Sedgwick

  I dialed up the fire department to warn them about the gas leak and then I hefted the two conspirators over my shoulders and hauled them off. Halfway across the lawn, an explosion went off inside the mansion. It blew out the windows and knocked the doors off the hinges. I paused to watch the flames licking up the outside walls.

  Shame, I thought, considering how much money had been used to build that home. More tax dollars, going up in flames. Well at least the Kevyles wouldn’t be spending any more taxpayer funds. The mayor’s political career was over, and Malone was in serious trouble. I hauled my two prisoners up the street to my Blazer and locked them in the back. They were still unconscious as I got on the freeway and headed for the Mother tree.

  I got a lot of stares when I got back to the tree, but I didn’t care. I’m the Steward and when I’m on official business, most people know it’s best just to let me go on my way. The scowl on my face probably discouraged them from looking any further. A scowling ogre is not a face you want to see in a dark alley… or anywhere, really.

  I put Malone and Moira in separate cells where they wouldn’t be able to communicate, then I touched the roots and vines dangling over the front of the cells and they closed in, locking my prisoners behind bars tougher than steel. I left them that way, still unconscious. I figured I’d interrogate the two of them later. I still had a few more questions, but I had another arrest to make first. I checked my watch to make sure the mayor would still be at his dinner party. I wanted to make sure everybody saw what I was about to do.

  Fortunately, I had enough time to make one more stop along the way.

  San Francisco General Hospital was a madhouse as usual, but it wasn’t hard to find Butch in the E.R. waiting room. He was sitting in a wheelchair with one of the on-call doctors putting the finishing touches on his new cast. I noted that the doctor was kindred. Quite a few of them work in the human world, and they’re quick to take over when they see a fae in trouble. That way they make sure the work gets done right, and at the same time keep normal humans from guessing the supernatural nature of the patient.

  “You broke your leg?” I said.

  Butch looked up at me, slightly dazed from painkillers, and grinned. “Bullet hit the bone and then bounced out,” he said. “Broke my leg on the way through.”

  “Your friend is very lucky,” the doctor said. “An inch closer to the artery and you’d be planning his funeral.”

  “No worries,” Butch said. “I just retired from law enforcement.”

  “Just in time,” the doctor said.

  Butch eyed me with a crooked stare. “You look beat,” he said. “What happened?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “You get Malone?”

  “Oh, I got him all right. Him and Moira Kevyle are cooling in the cell right now. I got the pistol, too.”

  “Great!” said Butch. “Maybe you should retire, too! You know, on a high note.”

  “I don’t think so,” I murmured. I glanced around. “What happened to Gen?”

  He nodded towards the back corner and I saw her on the phone. I walked over to her. She saw me and smiled. A moment later, she hung up. “Who was that?” I said suspiciously.

  “Calm down,” she said. “I was just calling off the search for you and Butch. I told the boys back at the department that I’d explain everything shortly.”

  “What do you think they’ll say?”

  She shrugged. “There’s not really much they can say. Anybody who’s still loyal to Malone after this shouldn’t be on the force. If anyone is, I expect they’ll be smart enough to keep their mouth shut.”

  We walked back over to Butch and I looked him up and down. “How are you feeling?” I said.

  “Great! No pain whatsoever!”

  “Uh-huh. Drugged up, are you?”

  “Yep.”

  “You think you can walk?”

  He patted the crutches next to his chair. “Gonna take some practice,” he said. “Where we goin?”

  “Oh, I thought you’d want to see this.”

  The doctor wheeled Butch out to my Blazer and Gen helped me get him into the passenger seat. She crawled into the back. Twenty minutes later, we walked into the ballroom at the Regency Hyatt. Butch was a little unsteady on his crutches but he managed just fine. I think he was mostly concerned with seeing the look on the mayor’s face as we arrested him in front of all of his supporters.

  The mayor was in front of the room at the podium, thanking all of his donors for a great campaign. Right in the middle of his speech, we walked down the center aisle towards him. He saw us coming and threw a nervous glance towards the fire exit. “Don’t even think about it,” I said in a low, rumbling voice. I heard a few gasps around us as I spoke, and I smiled grimly. When my voice gets low, it frightens people.

  “Someone call the police!” the mayor said nervously into the mic. “This man is wanted! He’s a murderer!”

  “No, you’re the murderer, mayor,” I said. “You’re under arrest. Put your hands behind your back.”

  He looked like he was about to make a run for it, but Gen stepped up next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “If you run in front of all these people, they’ll know you’re guilty,” she said. “Your career will be over.”

  Reluctantly, he put his hands behind his back so she could cuff him. I didn’t bother explaining to him that his career was already over anyway. He’d figure it out soon enough on his own.

  Cameras were flashing in our eyes as Gen cuffed the mayor and we led him back down the aisle. I noticed that although we were surrounded by kindred, there were a good number of full-blooded humans in that room as well. What a sight we must have made: a burly six-foot-six ogre in a trench coat, a female wood elf wearing an undercity police uniform, and a dwarf on crutches. I can’t imagine what they must have been thinking, or how they might have remembered the scene later. Knowing humans, they probably forgot about it as fast as they could. Sometimes it’s frightening, how easily we walk among them. I never will understand how humans came to rule the world.

  Chapter 9

  Gen escorted the mayor back to the tree with us and then she hustled back to the undercity police station to explain everything to the chief. In the meanwhile, Butch and I went to work on our interrogations. We sat at the front desk for a few minutes, evaluating the best approach.

  “Who should we start with?” Butch said.

  “The mayor. He doesn’t know what the others have already confessed to.”

  “Makes sense,” Butch said. “Can I put the fear into him first? After all, it might be my last chance.”

  I smirked. “You’re not that intimidating Butch. Not when you’re hobbling around on those crutches.” He gave me a sour look but didn’t put up an argument.

  We pulled the mayor out of his cell and took him down another level, to a soundproof interrogation room. Technically, it’s just a cave with an insulated steel door, but it is soundproof. It also has a nice way of coaxing confessions out of frightened suspects, since it looks a lot like an old torture chamber.

  Butch lurked back in the corner, glaring at Kerry Kevyle as he settled down at the table. The first words out of his mouth were: “I want a lawyer.”

  “You’ll get one,” I said, sitting across from him. “But it won’t do much good. Your wife and your partner Malone have already confessed.”

  He eyed me suspiciously. “You’re bluffing.”

  “Am I? Fine, don’t say anything. Let me tell the story: Five years ago you married a beautiful woman. A little out of your league maybe, but hey you had money, right? And that was what she liked. You gave her everything. Cars, jewelry, exotic trips. Anything she wanted you gave it to her.”

  “So?” he said defensively. “Nothing wrong with having a good time.”

  “I guess not,” I said, “except that you couldn’t afford it. What were you thinking, Kerry? You were already spending money faster than you could make it. What made you think running for mayor woul
d be a good idea?”

  He snorted. “Do you know how much money the mayor makes?”

  I tilted my head, watching Butch out of the corner of my eyes. He was happily soaking it all in, enjoying every minute of the mayor’s discomfort. “It’s not a bad salary,” I admitted, “but it’s not easy to get elected.”

  “You’re right about that.”

  “Expensive, isn’t it?” I said, pressing him. “So expensive that you had to take out loans. Lots of ‘em. When the banks quit loaning you money, you had to go to the mob, and even that wasn’t enough. That was when your wife came to you with this crazy idea about manufacturing fake relics.”

  His eyes bugged out. “How did you know that?” he said.

  “I already told you. Your wife told me everything.”

  He slammed his fist down on the table, grinding his teeth. Then he took a deep breath, sat back in his chair, and smiled. “You’re bluffing,” he said. “I deny everything. You’re making all of this up.”

  “You thought it was a crazy idea at first,” I continued, ignoring him, “but then you saw the potential, so you decided to give it a shot. You needed some inside help though, someone who could keep the heat off. You arranged a meeting with Malone and told him about your plan. He had five kids to support, so you knew he’d bite. And he just happened to know a good middleman, somebody that could get the goods to the street for you. He arranged a meeting with Castle, and suddenly the three of you were in business.

  “The money started pouring in so fast you could hardly believe it. So much money you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, even when you didn’t need it any more. I just don’t get it. Why didn’t you stop when you were ahead? Are you really just that greedy?”

  He shrugged. “Who wouldn’t be greedy? If you had money just pouring in like that, would you turn it off? I don’t think so.”

  “But you were breaking the law. You should have known you’d get caught.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” he said. “I mean seriously, it’s not like anybody got hurt. They’re just trinkets. They’re collectibles for a bunch of rich, spoiled trust fund brats.”

  “Right,” I said amicably. “The money was good, and nobody was getting hurt. But your wife… she had ambitions, didn’t she?”

  “You have no idea,” he said angrily. “We were doing so well, but she just couldn’t leave it alone. Run for mayor of San Francisco, she started saying. You’re not a real politician unless you can make it in the human world!”

  “And then you needed even more money.”

  He nodded, staring at the table. “We doubled production,” he said. “We started shipping overseas, selling through the internet. I have twenty-nine thousand five star ratings in Ebay.” He said that last bit with a twinge of pride, as if in his mind, he was actually taking credit for what he had accomplished. I didn’t bother pointing out that any idiot can get rich selling stuff that’s illegal.

  “And that was when Flick started asking questions?” I said.

  Kerry started wringing his hands. “Yeah, Flick showed up wanting to interview me about my collection. Then he started asking about where I’d gotten them, and if I knew where he could buy some himself. He was a reporter, so I knew what he was up to. It was obvious.”

  “So you told him to meet you at the lake and then you killed him.”

  “What?” Kerry said. He sat upright and stared right at me. “No way, that’s crazy!”

  “Admit it, Kerry. You killed Flick Hunter because he was getting too close to the truth. He could have ruined your whole career!”

  “Sure he could have,” Kerry said. “That’s why I bribed him.”

  My fists knotted up. “Don’t lie to me, Kerry.”

  His eyes narrowed and he stared right at me. “I’m telling the truth! Flick was barely making ends meet, trying to support his family on that lousy newspaper salary. His wife had to take some crappy waitress job just so they didn’t lose the house.”

  I searched his face for some hint of a lie, but I couldn’t find it. As much as I hated to believe him, Kerry appeared to be telling the truth. Then again, he was a politician. “Don’t lie to me,” I persisted. “I can make your life miserable in ways you can’t even imagine.”

  “It’s the truth, I swear it!” he said desperately. “I told Flick everything. I explained that nobody was getting hurt; that even though it was illegal, it was just some silly old law. And when I found out about his money problems, it was easy to get him on board. I told him I’d give him a cut of the profits if he’d keep his mouth shut. I even gave him one of the swords. It was a win-win situation. We could all make money and nobody would get hurt. Flick understood that.”

  I was furious at the mayor for the words he was telling me, furious at myself for believing them. I was furious at Flick because it was probably all true. Once Flick had all the facts, why wouldn’t he have gone along with the scam? Kerry was right. It was a victimless crime. It was petty, and it was extremely profitable. Flick was smart enough to see that. I had to admit, even I would have been tempted by that situation.

  When Flick was younger, he’d been ambitious and naïve. He’d always wanted to break the story that made front-page headlines all across the world. He had ambitions of becoming a star reporter, the type of journalist that people know by name. But time can change a person. Reality has a way of kicking you when you’re down. Times get tough. Money gets tight. Things that once seemed noble and important suddenly seem trivial.

  When Flick had started looking into the weapons thing, he’d probably thought it was going somewhere important. But then he saw the truth. He saw that the mayor’s crimes were really nothing more than minor infractions. And at the same time, Flick recognized the opportunity he had to save his family’s home, to improve their lifestyle. I hated the fact that Flick had given into the temptation, but I hated the system that had forced it on him at least as much. It shouldn’t be that hard for a young family to have a home. A young idealistic fellow like Flick shouldn’t have had to give up his ideals just to keep food on the table. And he sure as heck shouldn’t have to die for it.

  “Which one of you killed him?” I said. “If it wasn’t you, it must’ve been Malone. Your wife wouldn’t have done it.”

  “Malone couldn’t have done it,” Kerry said. “He was with me that night. We were both at the factory, overseeing production. We were getting behind on shipments and we needed that money for my campaign.”

  I settled back in the chair and it groaned under the strain of my weight. “I already know Malone killed Castle O’Rourke,” I said. “I have the evidence to prove it. I have the gun. Why don’t you just admit that he killed Flick before he pulls you even deeper into this with him?”

  Kerry shook his head. “I didn’t know he was going to kill O’Rourke until he’d already done it. I wouldn’t have let him do that. I think he saw you talking to O’Rourke and he got scared.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “He knew it was all about to come crumbling down, so he killed O’Rourke to shut him up. Then he tried to kill me, too. So tell me about how he killed Flick.”

  “I already told you!” Kerry said angrily, smacking the table with the palm of his hand. “Malone didn’t kill Flick. Malone was with me that night!”

  “Then who did it?”

  He slumped back and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “I don’t know, Steward. I honestly don’t know.” His voice softened as he spoke, and I could see that he’d reached the end. He’d confessed to everything. He didn’t have anything left to give, and he didn’t care anymore. He had no reason to lie.

  But where did that leave me? If Kerry was telling the truth, which certainly seemed to be the case, Malone had had nothing to do with Flick’s murder. And if not Malone, then who? Castle O’Rourke? No, if O’Rourke had done it, the mayor would know. He would tell me. Kerry had nothing to lose by pinning Flick’s murder on Castle, but he hadn’t even tried. That meant Castle didn’t do it.

  I reache
d back with one hand to massage my neck, quietly contemplating. Was it really possible that I was back to square one? After all of this, had Flick’s killer still somehow eluded me? I sighed. I didn’t even have a suspect.

  At that instant, the door flew open and Gen stepped into the room. Two big burly uniformed hobgoblins came in behind her. I frowned. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re here for your prisoners,” Gen said.

  I glanced at Butch and then stood up, towering over her. “What if I say you can’t have them?”

  She looked away, and her face softened. “I’m sorry, Hank. You know this isn’t me. The chief says we have to prosecute this case. He says you should understand that.”

  “Oh, I understand,” I said. “I understand that his head detective was on the take, committing crimes right out of the department and the chief didn’t catch a whiff of it until somebody died. I understand that the mayor of the undercity was in bed with the police department and nobody ever even looked into it, until I caught them in the act.

  “So now the chief thinks it’s going to make him look good if he prosecutes this case. Thinks it’ll clean up his image, right?”

  “You’re right,” she said. “I can’t lie about that. But don’t you think it’s important to make sure everyone knows we’ve found justice? Don’t you think it’s best to let the police handle this one?”

  “Sure, it’s important. But what really bothers me is that none of you ever bothered to look for it in the first place. This was going on right under your noses for years and what did the chief ever do about it? Tell me, what are you getting out of this? A promotion? A raise?”

  She stared at me for a moment, and then pulled out her badge. “I’m a detective now,” she said.

  I shook my head, grinning wryly. “From a desk clerk to a detective. That’s quite a career jump.”

  “It’s all because of you, Hank,” she said softly. “I owe it all to you.”