Chapter Four
Dodgy; that was the one word that best summed up the street Black's chosen boarding house was located on. About a block from the intersection of King Edward Avenue and Rideau Street, tucked in between a long-closed grocery store and a vacant lot. A forgotten parking garage rose, inexplicably, behind it, a half-finished reminder of some construction project that never came to fruition. The boarding house itself shared the street's look, but more than anything it seemed tired. Old, faded paint clung to bare brick, too greyed and pale to even remember what colour it once held. The windows had achieved a state of being perpetually clouded without any visible dirt to wipe away. The roof was the only part that looked like it had been maintained in any way. Leaks tended to drive tenants away faster than a building's appearance, after all. A small parking area rounded out the view, with a weathered, greyed wood fence separating the small, pothole-ridden lot from the side of the parking garage nearest the boarding house.
Across the street from the building, Thomas and Nadia took all of this in with one, long look. They tilted their heads to one side, then the other. A few people, strolling on their way to the local convenience store, gave them an odd look or two as they passed. An old, creaking car crawled by as they just stood there, staring. Nadia finally broke the silence, stirring herself to life by clearing her throat and motioning toward the building as she spoke.
"So... Shall we, then?" She did her best to sound determined, but the place was falling short of her expectations so far.
Thomas turned to her, a slightly amused expression on his face. "You're serious? The place looks like a good sneeze would blow it over."
"Yes, I am serious. Condemnable or not, I'm going in there to find my lead."
He sighed. "All right, but I have a bad feeling about this... I swear, if this guy has rigged the walls with explosives or something, you'd never be able to notice, they're probably full of holes as it is. Perfect alibi, too; emergency demolition to prevent the structure from collapsing onto passersby."
Nadia giggled as she started across the street. "Oh please, you're being dramatic. Nobody outside Hollywood blows up buildings. And besides, it would draw more attention to the place than we will by going in there."
"I guess. Still, I don't like it. Not a bit."
"Duly noted. And remind me to check the going salary for stand-in parents, so I know how much I owe you at the end of the week when you're still standing there."
Thomas shook his head and started after her. "Whatever it is, it won't be enough to cover the situations we keep getting into."
She rolled her eyes. "You worry too much, Thomas."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Thing is, it's usually the ones who do that are able to see their impending doom approaching with enough time to get out of the way."
Nadia looked over her shoulder at him, her impatience tempered by her sense of humour. "Oh? Then why are you still following me around? Listening to you, I'm starting to think I'm the herald of the apocalypse."
She grinned to herself as Thomas fumbled for a response. The conversation was put on hold, however, as they climbed the steps to the front door; a paled, but serviceable, work that hung only slightly crookedly from its rusting hinges. A dollar-store variety sign, framed by the dull red of the door's faded paint, hung from a nail on its upper half, sporting a collection of cheery cartoon animals gathered above the word 'welcome'.
Thomas looked at the sign from the base of the steps as Nadia reached for the handle. "Oh, great, perfect. That settles it; evil forces are at work here."
Nadia stifled a laugh as she opened the door and Thomas closed it behind them. The lobby, if you could even call it that, was about as faded and silently desperate as the outside. The check-in counter was built in what must have once been the entryway's closet and a thin, balding man was draped across it. His obnoxious snores left no doubt as to his state of well-being and Nadia wasted no time in politely waking him with a light knock on the wood beside his head.
The man sat up abruptly as he was startled awake, accidentally placing his hand directly into the drool he had left on the table top. Grimacing, he wiped his hand clean on his pants' leg. For the desk itself, he threw a tissue onto the lingering saliva. Finally finished with his somewhat revolting task, he acknowledged the pair's presence with a bleary gaze and a grunt. Taking this to mean she could speak, Nadia did her best to smile.
"Hello, Sir. We've been looking for a room around town all week, but we're on a tight budget. Are your rooms very expensive?"
The man grunted again, his glassy-eyed gaze taking a moment to study Nadia and her hovering comrade. Moving slightly, he straightened his posture and took a deep breath. The ensuing belch filled the room with the odour of a night spent nursing a bottle or seven and explained the deadened look in his eye without a word spoken. Seeming bolstered by his unintelligible expletive, the man focused on Nadia at last.
"Nah, they're not expensive. Go on upstairs; take a look at room eight. Lady stayin' there hasn't been in for weeks and if her rent isn't in by the end of the week, she won't be staying any longer."
"Thank you, Sir. May we borrow the key to the room, please?"
He grunted, as if just remembering keys were a factual existence and not some vague imagining and fished around beneath the desk, producing the key. "Here y'go, miss. If it's to your liking, let me know. If the price ain't right, we can come to some kind of arrangement, I'm sure."
His glassy eyes roamed to places south of her face at this final remark and Nadia swallowed the outburst she felt clawing its way from her throat before it could burst free to ruin their chance of getting upstairs. Instead, she smiled as she took the key.
"Thank you for being so accommodating, Sir." She turned to the stairs, motioning Thomas to come along as they made for the stairs.
Stopping for a minute, she hissed in her companion's ear. "Walk right behind me."
Thomas wasn't sure he understood, but did as he was asked. Reaching the second floor, Nadia made to rest her head against the wall, but thought better of it when she saw the state of the bare, discoloured drywall. Turning back to Thomas, she buried her face in his shoulder and shouted, the sound muffled enough to not carry away from them. Straightening up, she took a deep breath.
"Sorry. And thank you, I didn't want that creep ogling my backside as I went up the stairs." She shuddered at the thought.
He nodded sympathetically. "I don't blame you. And it's all right, I understand completely."
Refocusing herself, Nadia remembered the key in her hand. "Now then... room 8 obviously isn't the one we want, if a woman is staying there."
Thomas nodded in agreement. "We could knock on the other doors, just to see which are occupied and which we need to check?"
Nadia studied the object in her hand while she listened. "That could work. But I think we should try our luck with this key, first."
"What for? Do you think we'll find anything that could connect to Black?"
Nadia grinned and held up the key for him to see. It was a standard metal cut, but what was interesting about it was the number painted onto it in black. Faded, like everything else in the weathered building, the number was nevertheless recognizable not as an 8, but as a 3.
"I guess hangovers can be useful."
Thomas chuckled. "I guess so. Well, all right then, let's give it a try. I still don't like this, but it's about time we had some extra good luck."
Nadia moved to the door with the correct number and knocked. "Excuse me? Is anyone home?"
Receiving no answer, she fit the key into the lock. When turning it gently succeeded only in confirming the lock's need for maintenance, she twisted it more sharply and winced at the grinding noise that came in answer. Turning the knob, Nadia pushed at the door experimentally and sighed in relief as it opened inward. She saw only darkness through the crack the door's movement had created and opened it further. The light from the hall leaped into the room, revealing a bare floor and precious little e
lse. Frowning, Nadia stepped inside and fumbled for the light switch.
The incandescent bulb flickered to life, illuminating what the light from the doorway did not. Even with the room properly lit, however, it appeared vacant at first glance. It was only with a second glance that the pair noticed a bulletin board set on the rear wall, tucked into the corner. The cork surface of the board was busy, to say the least, covered in notes of all sizes and colours the way it was. These were held in place with thumbtacks, safety pins and bent paperclips jabbed into the cork. All in all, it was a stark contrast to the otherwise vacant room. A door-less doorway on one side of the room led to a kitchen area and a closed door on the opposite side of the room presumably contained the washroom.
Thomas nodded toward the kitchen. "I'll poke around in there. Do you want to peruse the bulletin board?"
Nadia nodded. "I do, thanks. Let me know if you find anything that tells us we're in the wrong apartment, so far I'm drawing a blank on whether we have to check another room or not."
He nodded. "I know what you mean. I wonder if the guy at the desk forgot one of the rooms was vacant."
She shrugged. "He was hung-over enough. Still, if this room isn't being rented out, why would there be anything on the walls?"
Thomas had no answer for her and left her to study the out-of-place object while he nosed about in the adjoining room. The uneasy feeling he had about this place was growing now and rapidly approaching the level of full-blown anxiety. He chided himself for being so nervous and busied himself with the details of the kitchen. 'Empty' was the first word to come to mind. The refrigerator was bare and, as a quick touch on the inside confirmed, broken or not even plugged in. Checking the cupboards, his paranoia was equally unsatisfied by the cobwebs and dust he found there.
He walked back out into the main room and saw Nadia was using her pencil to track her progress across the bulletin board's many notes. And she was roughly half-done reading so far, he noted. He checked the washroom next and was surprised by its size. Even with a shower, toilet and sink counter, its floor space rivalled that of the kitchen. Checking beneath the sink, he again found nothing and he sat on the toilet's closed lid for a moment to take a few deep breaths. His nerves simply refused to steady. Standing, he moved to the sink and let the water run for a minute before leaning down to splash some onto his face. The icy cold liquid caused him to splutter for a moment, but did wonders for his anxiety. Drying his face with his shirt, Thomas walked back out into the main room.
Nadia glanced over her shoulder at him as he returned and he shook his head at her unspoken question. Sighing, she turned back to the bulletin board. It was gibberish, mostly, and quite infuriating. The notes themselves were a mess, arranged in haphazard order, some overlapping each other to the point that a few notes had only a few words visible at all. The only thing she could make of it was that at least two individuals had contributed to the confusing montage, judging by the handwriting used on the notes. She did not want to touch or move them in case this room did happen to be Black's; leaving a clue that she was here for a mercenary hit man to find was not high on her list of priorities. And besides, there had to be some kind of clue hidden in it. The mostly obscured notes had not been removed, simply posted over top of and she knew the moment she took it down, she would never be able to put it back exactly as it had been.
Thomas appeared at her shoulder. "Any luck?"
Her frustrations with the board caused her to bristle. "No; and I'll thank you not to interrupt me."
He recoiled slightly and she could see the offence taken on his face. "All right, all right, sheesh. You don't have to bite my head off."
She deflated and looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry. I'm convinced there's something in this I'm not seeing and it's aggravating me. Just look at the first note; 'Fireman kaleidoscope reporter bananas dragon overturn street jargon stone.' It doesn't make the least bit of sense, but then why would it be here at all?"
He nodded. "Yeah, that's a fair point. Could be that you need a clue to decipher it before you can find the clues inside it, though and we don't know what the clue is."
Nadia sighed. "It reminds me of a cryptogram. You know, the sort they put in children's puzzle books to give them a challenge. They give you a hint and a bunch of numbered spaces to fill in for the answer. You need to unscramble a group of words and at least one letter in each word corresponds to a number, which you then use to fill in the answer."
Thomas raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like any puzzle I ever did as a child. Your parents had high expectations for you, didn't they?"
She laughed quietly. "Yeah, I guess they did. And I remember fighting with them a lot when I was a teenager, but I'm glad they pushed me to be the best I could be. It's why we're so close now. But we're getting way off-subject here, talking about family and letters and numbers." She paused, blinking. "Letters and numbers." She turned to Thomas, a smile spreading over her face. "A number!"
He looked at her in confusion. "Pardon?"
She ignored him for a minute as she pulled her pencil and pad out and began to jot things down, combing the bulletin board rapidly now that she had an idea in mind. She crossed things out here, jotted them down there, but slowly her page filled and Thomas had to admit he was eager to know what she had thought of, nerves or no nerves. Finishing, she nodded at the, now crowded, page and gave Thomas a quick hug in exuberance.
"We did it!"
He blinked, taken off-guard. "Did what? What does it say?"
Returning to her own personal space, she looked at him. "Hmm? What?"
"What does it say?"
She paused, blushing slightly. "Oh. Um, I'm not sure. I was just jotting it down, but I didn't actually read it."
He took a moment to process that, a quietly amused smile spreading over his face. "You may want to; I think the man downstairs will want us out of here sooner or later."
She shuddered at the memory of the man. "Ugh... I'm hoping to sneak out the window, personally. Point taken, though."
Nadia moved to the bulletin board, using her pencil as a teaching implement. "You see how the notes are in an organized chaos? If we assume that it was deliberate, it becomes more than just a mess. I noticed that the first writer left more notes than the second and that their notes came in groups."
She pointed to a group of two or three notes in a row, all in the same handwriting. "These groups have the other writer's notes stuck in between them. Like responses. Now, even assuming that, they don't make any sense. So I used a number to decide which words to count. In this case, the number three, since that's the room we're in. Simplistic, I know, but if you're going to create a code, it may as well be one you can remember, especially when you can protect your secrets simply by moving the notes around. Anyway, I wrote down the third word of every note used in the groups and that's what I've got on my pad."
Thomas nodded as he processed this. "It makes sense. So, what does it say?"
"Well, let me see... 'Reporter overturn stone, must resolve. Contact Tyrone, share problem, share resource. Low profile hit, no far attention. Must remain unknown to authority public.'" She frowned at the words; she knew she was on the right track, but it was still a rather halting read for her tastes. "That's kind of a pain, let me smooth it out some..."
Thomas nodded and stood back as she wrote out a more complete batch of sentences beneath what she already had.
Looking up at him, she grinned a little more confidently. "All right, here goes; 'Reporter overturning stones, must be resolved. Contact Tyrone... I'm not sure if 'share problem, share resource' means Black should tell Tyrone about the problem or that Tyrone has the same problem?"
"You said Tyrone is a local and well-established, right? So he likely has the resources Black would need."
She simply answered with a nod, making the necessary adjustments to her notes. "All right, assuming it's the same problem, then. 'Reporter overturning stones, must be resolved. Contact Tyrone; shared problem, sh
ared resources. Low profile hit, no further attention. Must remain unknown to the authorities and the public.' Sounds about right."
"Yeah, agreed. This definitely seems to be Black's apartment. Looks like this is where he gets directions from his boss. Is there a name?"
"Well... I'm not sure. The last three words on the last note in this handwriting are 'belt of Orion'."
"Orion's belt is part of the constellation of Orion himself, right? I'm not sure I see what astronomy could have to do with this. It could be an intentional break in the code, to throw us off."
She thought this over for a moment. "Maybe... but I don't think so. Why make a code to safeguard your secrets, make the information easy to destroy and then take the further precaution of throwing false leads into it? I mean, it doesn't mention Black's name at all, if we didn't know he was involved this would tell us practically nothing. The same goes for this 'Tyrone'. If we didn't already know Tyrone Burgess was involved, that wouldn't have helped us either. I'm sure there are plenty of other people with the same first name."
"So we assume that 'Orion' is this guy's alias for now, until proven otherwise?"
Nadia nodded. "I'll do some research later, see what the name turns up. It could suggest the character of the fellow at the very least and perhaps his motivations. Most constellations are named after mythological figures; those always come with a story."
"Fair point. It's not likely, but definitely worth a look. What do the notes in the other writing say?"
"Nothing. I tried taking the third word from them, too, but it still doesn't make any sense. Most likely, this Orion character leaves the blank spots for Black to fill in with gibberish. That way he knows the message has been received and it makes the overall appearance of the message board look even more garbled."
Thomas looked thoughtfully at the bulletin board. "They've certainly put some thought into it. I'm curious, though, why hasn't it been changed? What I mean is, you were almost mugged yesterday. Black was supposed to have been there, but wasn't. The only reason I can think of to explain that would be that Orion decided to change the plan at the last minute, but there's nothing here about that, or any new instructions at all. So where did Black go and why?"
Nadia sighed. "I don't know. It certainly explains why Tyrone was so pissed off, he probably doesn't know anything about Black answering to someone else before him. You're right, though. Black should have known better than to cross Tyrone Burgess without a very good reason. And if his boss didn't give him that reason, it doesn't make any sense that he would break their agreement."
"It's a conundrum all right. But we're not going to figure it out standing here. Shall we go return the keys to your new boyfriend?"
Nadia shuddered and socked Thomas lightly in the arm. "Don't even joke about that. You had better get in his way if he starts ogling me again."
He gave a light bow. "I'll do my best to preserve your modesty, milady."
She rolled her eyes. "Smart-ass. You're just lucky I believe you or I'd slug you again."
Fortunately, the offensive man was once again asleep when they returned. Putting the key on the desk beside him, the pair made a hasty exit and were only too glad to get back into Nadia's car and leave the building far behind.
In Icarus' Shadow Page 6
