Deep Dark Night

by Steph Broadribb

  The others, unaware of how the system works, are high-fiving and cheering. Anton puts his hand out and helps Carl up. Carl slaps him on the back. They’re laughing. Mikey’s pouring more champagne. Otis goes over and sits with Johnny. Johnny hugs him. Even Cabressa cracks a smile.

  We all flinch as two loud beeps come over the room’s integral speaker system.

  Otis looks around. His eyes widen, panicked. ‘What the hell is—?’

  ‘Main power to the Skyland Tower has been disrupted,’ says an electronic-sounding voice. ‘Secondary power has been activated. Do not be alarmed. For your safety, panic-room protocols are in operation until main power is re-established.’

  That isn’t right; that isn’t what the building’s systems manual said it was programmed to do. I frown at JT. He’s looking concerned too, but flicks his gaze towards Cabressa and gives a little shake of his head. Don’t say anything, not right now.

  I stay silent.

  Carmella loads the deck into the Shuffle Master and looks to me and Cabressa. ‘Now we’ve got the power back, are you ready to continue the game?’

  Cabressa narrows his eyes. ‘I’d rather wait until the knight is reunited with the set, but given this situation I suppose we can play forward.’ He fixes me with a hard stare. ‘Just know that I won’t consider the bet paid in full until the chess set is complete.’

  I stare at him. Don’t like what’s happening, or the attitude he’s giving me, but seeing as we’re locked in this penthouse suite for God knows how much longer, I figure I need to keep him sweet and play along. So I nod. Force a compliant smile. ‘Understood.’

  JT gets up from my player’s chair, and I settle back into the seat. JT stays close behind me, and I’m thankful for it. Feels like I’m in a snake pit going head-to-head with a cobra. I’m real glad JT has got my back. The rest of the guys gather closer around us, watching. As Carmella’s about to deal I hear Anton cuss.

  She stops, the first card poised over the green, and looks over at him. ‘Problem?’

  Anton turns his champagne flute upside down and says in a childlike voice, ‘There’s no more fizz.’

  A flash of irritation passes across Carmella’s face before she supresses it with her mask of professionalism. ‘There’s plenty more.’ She looks over to Thomas, the security guy, who’s still standing by the door. ‘Could you bring more champagne for our guests?’

  ‘Sure.’ He leaves his post and strides through to the kitchen area.

  There’s a clink of bottles, then he reappears carrying four more bottles over to the poker table. Thomas gives the first bottle to Anton, who fills his glass, and then those of Carl and Mikey. The second bottle goes to Johnny, who abandons his glass in favour of drinking straight from the bottle. Thomas sets the other two bottles in the ice buckets.

  ‘Thanks,’ says Carmella.

  As Thomas moves towards the door, two loud beeps sound over the penthouse’s speaker system again. He stops, and turns back towards us looking confused. ‘What’s that about?’

  Then the electronic voice begins to speak again, and everything changes.

  27

  ‘It’s time to play a different game. Not everyone in the suite tonight is who they say they are. All ten of you are hiding secrets.’

  My stomach flips. What the hell is this?

  Everyone falls silent, listening. Otis’s leg starts to jig.

  The electronic voice continues, booming out from the penthouse’s speakers:

  ‘Here are some facts you might not know about each other:

  One of you is a police informer.

  One of you is a thief.

  One of you is a killer.

  One of you is an addict.

  One of you is a cheater.

  One of you is bankrupt.

  One of you is a wife-beater.

  One of you is a fraud.

  One of you has an illegitimate child.

  One of you is HERRON.’

  ‘Is this some kind of joke?’ Anton says, wiping his brow.

  ‘Don’t sound like no joke,’ says Otis. His leg jigs faster. ‘Sounds like some freak’s trapped us in here on purpose.’

  ‘You can’t be taking this seriously?’ Carl says. He laughs, but it sounds forced and hollow. ‘It’s just some sick fuck—’

  The electronic voice interrupts him. ‘Herron is taking over the city. He’s disrupting business deals and politics, interfering with shipments, and co-opting gangs into his empire. His identity has been carefully guarded as he hides behind his lieutenants, staying anonymous and untouchable, expanding his reach in the business and criminal worlds. He’s a threat to all of you and your businesses, but one. So this is your challenge – work out which of you is Herron. The panic-room lockdown protocol will deactivate once you’ve made the correct choice. How you decide to use that information will be up to you. Good luck.’

  Everyone stays quiet a moment, waiting to see if the electronic voice is going to continue. When it doesn’t, all the men start talking at once.

  ‘Where are they?’ says Otis. Wild-eyed, he scans the room. ‘Where’s the voice coming from?’ He hugs his massive arms around his torso, but it doesn’t disguise the fact that he’s trembling. ‘They’re watching us. They’ve trapped us in here, and now they’re watching us.’

  Carl’s shaking his head. ‘It’s pre-recorded, you fool, no one’s watching. You need to chill the fuck out.’

  Otis is shaking. ‘We’re screwed. We’re totally screwed, man. We’re like rats in a sack.’

  ‘How do they know we’re here?’ says Mikey. His voice is loud, strident. His fists are clenched. ‘How can they possibly know that?’

  ‘They can’t, can they?’ says Anton. ‘No one knows we’re up here. We didn’t sign in when we entered the building, it’s—’

  ‘But there are cameras,’ Otis says, looking wildly around the living area. ‘The cameras are everywhere, man. They’re watching us. Oh jeez, they’re watching us.’

  ‘I said chill. The fuck. Out,’ says Carl, glaring at Otis, and sounding anything but chilled himself. ‘They didn’t mention our names. It’s a bluff, some asshole making a joke. So just chill.’

  JT moves closer to me and slips into the empty seat to my right, away from Cabressa. He leans towards me. Whispers into my ear. ‘This is bad, we need a plan to—’

  ‘I need to confess something,’ says Carmella.

  The talking stops. All eyes are on Carmella.

  JT sits up.

  Carmella clears her throat. ‘Look, I know I should have told you this before. Hell, I should have cancelled the game, or moved locations or something but, well, my cell was stolen yesterday.’

  Everyone stares at her. No one speaks.

  ‘I’d already sent the messages about the game,’ Carmella continues. ‘And all the details, and your names and numbers were in the cell.’ She looks around the group. Her professional mask is slipping, and the fear beneath is starting to show in her eyes. ‘I thought it’d be okay, because I had it wiped remotely. But it wasn’t wiped immediately. Whoever took it had it almost an hour before that, so if they’d figured out the code then…’

  ‘That’s how they know,’ Otis says. ‘It’s all true. It’s all—’

  ‘You did this.’ Anton points at her. ‘You stupid bitch, you fucked us; you’re responsible.’

  Carmella’s cheeks flush. ‘I didn’t think—’

  ‘Yeah, that’s more than obvious.’ Anton steps towards her. ‘You didn’t think at all.’

  ‘Calm down,’ Mikey says, stepping between Carmella and Anton. ‘We can’t turn on each other. We need to work out who’s doing this and how to stop them.’

  ‘This is crazy,’ says Johnny, staggering a few steps closer to the table.

  ‘It is,’ agrees Mikey. ‘And that’s why we’ve got to think logically about this.’

  ‘It all started with the blackout,’ says Carl, running a hand over his bald head. ‘They used the penthouse security protoc
ol to lock us in.’

  ‘Yeah, but how could they have known about the blackout?’ says Mikey, looking thoughtful. ‘It would have been impossible to predict.’

  ‘Unless they caused it?’ Johnny slurs.

  ‘Really, have you any idea how difficult it would be for someone to do that?’ says Mikey. ‘Anyways, if they just wanted to trap us, all they needed to do was cut power to the building, not the whole city.’

  ‘Yet here we are,’ says Anton.

  ‘I don’t care how they did it,’ says Johnny, crossing his arms. ‘I’m not playing this fucker’s game. Count me out.’

  ‘You can’t elect to be out,’ says Anton. ‘You’re here, that automatically makes you part of this.’

  Johnny shakes his head. ‘I won’t—’

  ‘It can’t be pre-recorded,’ says Otis, his voice trembling. ‘They know exactly who’s in the room. They have to be watching us.’

  Carl frowns. ‘Not necessarily, they could have used the information in Carmella’s cell and—’

  ‘No, they couldn’t.’ JT’s voice is real serious. ‘If it was pre-recorded they’d have said nine not ten. I’m only in here because of Miss Anderson having to leave the table to make a call. Technically, I shouldn’t have been in here; I should have been with the rest of your security people downstairs. But the voice mentioned ten people, so they know exactly how many people are inside this suite. That means it can’t have been recorded before the power outage.’

  ‘I was right, they are watching us,’ Otis says, the tremble in his voice becoming more pronounced. ‘Oh my God, they’re watching us right now.’

  Johnny turns and sways across the room towards the far corner. Climbing onto the couch, he walks along it, barely keeping upright. ‘There’s got to be some hidden cameras here somewhere.’

  ‘Wouldn’t the power outage have taken the cameras out of action?’ asks Carmella.

  Mikey shakes his head. ‘Maybe before the back-up generator kicked in, yes. But now we’ve got power again, I’d say any cameras will be back running too.’

  I swallow hard. Sure, there might be other cameras built into the penthouse; after all, fancy places like this have all kinds of security measures put into them as standard. But aside from anyone who could be observing the penthouse through the building’s cameras, there’s one other person who I know has been watching the whole night for sure. Monroe. He’s dodgy as hell, I know that, but setting up this situation – the power outage, the panic-room protocol and the electronic voice’s accusations – it all seems far too elaborate for Monroe to have planned. The prize he wants is Cabressa – he’s had a hair up his ass for him for years – and this is the closest he’s ever gotten to getting an arrest that’ll stick. I’m pretty certain he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise that, especially for some new player on the block, like Herron. I’m pretty damn sure, but I’m not a hundred percent.

  I sit for a moment, as the others argue around me, and think on it. Feel sick as another realisation hits me. Monroe’s been watching this whole time. There’s no reason why someone else couldn’t have tapped into the feed.

  I glance at JT and then at Cabressa. Unlike all the others, Cabressa hasn’t spoken a word. But now I realise he’s thinking about something. It’s real easy to see: his lips are pursed into a thin line and a deep frown is etched into his brow.

  When he notices me watching him, he narrows his eyes. Clears his throat. And bangs his fist hard against the table. When all the others have stopped talking and are looking at him he says, in a hard-as-steel voice, ‘So which of you assholes is Herron?’

  28

  Everyone looks at Cabressa.

  ‘Whoever’s got us locked in here knows one of us is Herron.’ The mobster looks from person to person. ‘It’s not me, so it has to be one of you, and I want to know who.’

  The tension feels heavy in the air. No one speaks.

  I hold my breath, waiting to see what happens next. Beside me, JT moves forward in his seat – a tiny adjustment, but I know he’s getting into a position ready to go on the defence if things escalate.

  Johnny, seemingly a brave drunk, gestures towards Cabressa. ‘What’s to say you aren’t Herron?’

  Otis inhales sharply. Carl shoots a worried look at Mikey.

  Cabressa uses his index fingers to smooth his thick, dark eyebrows into place. ‘A fair question. The voice said each of us had a secret, and listed out those secrets for us. Among us are a police informer, a thief, a killer, an addict, a bankrupt, a wife-beater, a cheater, a fraud, the father of an illegitimate child, and Herron.’

  ‘This is one sick game,’ says Anton, grimacing.

  Otis’s shaking his head and looking like he might throw up.

  ‘Seems like a cheap riddle to me,’ says Mikey, lighting a cigar.

  ‘Not so cheap when Herron has cost some of us big money these past few months,’ says Carl. ‘If we could get rid of him tonight, that’d be a win in my book.’

  Thomas, the security guard, puts his hand on his gun. ‘There’ll be no getting rid of anyone. I’m here for all your safety. Nothing can happen inside this building.’

  Johnny stares at Cabressa. ‘You’ve not answered my question yet. How can we be sure you aren’t Herron?’

  Cabressa nods. ‘I’ll make my confession first, shall I? I don’t have anything to hide. I’m the father of an illegitimate child. Two children in fact – Kirsten and Toby; they’re five and nine. Their mother has been my personal assistant for the past twelve years. Sadly my wife has been unable to have children, therefore we have an “arrangement”.’ He looks from person to person. Holds my gaze the longest as he says, ‘I am not Herron.’

  ‘So who is?’ says Anton, eyes narrowed, looking from person to person.

  No one speaks. Everyone avoids eye contact.

  Otis’s leg is jigging at double speed. ‘Look, if we’re going to get out of here, we have to work it out. It’s the only way, man.’

  Thomas shakes his head. Keeps his hand on his holster.

  Cabressa looks at Anton. ‘I know you’re the bankrupt, so given the parameters of this game you can’t be Herron. But if you find me Herron, all the cash brought here for this poker game is yours.’

  On the opposite side of the table, from behind Carmella, Thomas steps towards Cabressa. ‘That’s not how things get done here.’

  Anton frowns.

  Thomas keeps approaching. When he gets level with Anton things seem to shift into fast forward. Anton shoves Thomas towards the table. Thomas, big and lumbering, falls sideways, his balance lost, vulnerable. Anton ploughs after him. Pinning Thomas against the table, he brings his knee up hard into the big guy’s stomach. As Thomas doubles over, arms flailing, Anton punches him in the side of the head. The security guy drops to the ground, out cold.

  Hot damn. Anton sure moves fast for a man of his bulk.

  Otis is staring at Thomas’s collapsed body. Carl and Mikey seem in a state of shock. Cabressa looks unbothered as he flicks a speck of fluff from his jacket.

  I look across the table at the spot on the floor where Thomas is lying. No matter how I think on it there’s no fast or stealthily way for JT or me to get to Thomas. As I glance at JT I can tell from the intense expression on his face that he’s trying to figure it out too. We need to, and we need to do it real fast. Because sitting in Thomas’s holster is a Glock 27.

  JT starts to stand.

  Johnny, wide-eyed with shock, turns to Anton, who stands statue-still beside Thomas, his fists still clenched. ‘What the fuck did you just—?’

  ‘I want all the money,’ Anton says to Cabressa. ‘Everything that was put on the table and held in reserve in the back room.’

  The mobster nods. ‘That’s what I said was yours: all the money. Only the chess pieces and the car are off limits.’

  ‘Okay,’ says Anton. He bends down toward Thomas’s body. ‘I’m happy with the cash.’

  I can’t see what he’s doing, but I’ve got a damn g
ood idea. There’s no time to stop him. All we can do right now is try not to draw attention. Think on our best move. I turn to JT.

  He grimaces and slides back into his seat. He leans towards me, but his eyes are on Carmella, as he whispers, ‘Brace yourself.’

  Carmella is vigorously shaking her head. ‘Anton, you can’t have the money. That’s just not going to happen.’ She turns to Cabressa. ‘It’s in my care. It’s not yours to give—’

  ‘The rules have been changed, Carmella,’ says Cabressa. ‘This is out of your hands now. Tonight we’re playing a new game.’ He nods at Anton.

  Anton straightens up. The Glock 27 is in his hand. He points it at Carmella. Adjusts his posture – his legs are splayed, and both hands grip the gun. The exaggerated stance makes him look like a cartoon figure, a make-believe cowboy. But the Glock is very real. So is the danger.

  ‘You caused this, bitch,’ says Anton. He puffs out his chest. His tone is fuelled with macho bullshit. ‘You let your cell get stolen. You deserve to die for your damn stupidity.’

  There’s a pause. A brief moment of silence. Then JT speaks.

  ‘Put the gun down,’ JT growls. ‘No one needs to die here.’