"This isn't about that. We need to ask you about Ryder Mackenzie."
Charlie froze. "What about him?"
"What can you tell us about him?" Jo asked. "We saw him in here training by himself a few days ago. He's a real ninja."
"Is he?" Charlie looked up the street. "I don't know anything about that."
Nate inspected the side of his head. "You don't? Why did you give him permission to train here, then?"
"He talked me up a big line about wanting to buy the studio. He said he wanted to check it out, and I didn't have time the one morning he had free, so I gave him the keys. He never said anything about training. I didn't even know he practiced an art."
Jo blinked at him in shock. "He wanted to buy the studio? Since when?"
"How the Christ should I know since when?" Charlie fired back. "He blew a bunch of sunshine up my ass, but when it came down to brass tacks, he goes and leaves me hanging out to dry. Fuck this. I'm going home."
Nate dodged into his path and flattened his palm against Charlie's chest. "Hold it right there, brother. Are you telling us you were slated to meet Ryder Mackenzie tonight—right now?"
"Yes," Charlie returned. "He was supposed to meet me here half an hour ago, and he bailed. I didn't think a high-powered businessman like him would pull a stunt like that, but it just goes to show you can't judge a book by its cover. See ya."
He stormed off. Nate and Jo stared after him, and Jo's head went into a tailspin. So Ryder Mackenzie was still in town. He was still out there, at least pretending to conduct his business.
Nate bumped Jo's arm and woke her from her thoughts. They didn't speak, crossing the street and climbing the stairs to the Police Station. They met Blake and Kat coming from their desks, and all four turned into Chief Bates's office.
The Chief lounged in his desk chair. "What do you have for me?"
"Very little," Nate grumbled. "The Purple Peril is making himself scarce while ensuring that the electronic key records at the Lord Henry Hotel still register that he's in the building."
"He offered to buy the martial arts studio and then didn't show to a meeting with Charlie Edmond," Jo added. "If you ask me, he only used that as a pretext to get himself somewhere to practice while he prowled around town. He used the same pretext making Wesley Falkner a business proposal that Mackenzie never intended to pursue. He did it to give himself a plausible excuse to get into town and start stalking Kingston."
"I'm inclined to agree with you." Chief Bates picked up a sheet of paper from the clutter on his desk. "I got the daily printout on Kingston's visitors in jail. Besides his son and his lawyer, he had a visitor this afternoon. Fifty points to the camper who guesses who it was."
Jo's jaw dropped. "Not Mackenzie."
"Live in living color. He and Kingston had a forty-five-minute conversation. No one thought anything of it until I saw the printout."
"What the hell is he doing visiting Kingston in jail?" Blake asked.
"He probably wanted to gloat over Kingston's fall from grace," Kat suggested.
"It can't be that," Jo countered. "We've been saying all along he had a personal vendetta against Kingston."
"You said that," Blake argued. "None of the rest of us thought that."
"This proves it. Don't you see?" she returned. "If he's nothing but a vigilante who wanted to bust some evil-doer from marauding the countryside, he didn't need to talk to the guy for forty-five minutes to rub his nose in dog shit. There's something personal between them. I'd bet anything on that."
"I agree with you, Detective." Chief Bates scanned the little group. "I don't suppose there's any chance you can bring him in, is there?"
The friends exchanged glances and Jo looked at the floor. "Unfortunately not," Nate replied. "If we believe the electronic trail of breadcrumbs, he's still inside the Lord Henry Hotel. For all we know, he's watching Looney Tunes on YouTube and eating custard cream pie."
Blake snorted through his nose and choked when Chief Bates glared at him. "Is that all you can say about it? If he isn't in the Lord Henry, where is he staying?"
"He's probably roosting in the trees," Kat murmured low.
"Regardless of where he is," Jo ventured, "may I suggest, Chief, that you put Kingston in protective custody?"
"What for?" Blake asked. "If he was gonna kill Kingston, he could have done it at the docks."
"Or in the jail," Kat added.
Jo shook her head again. She didn't seem able to stop doing that, but it didn't help clear her thoughts. "If we're operating on the assumption that he has a vendetta against Kingston, then Kingston could be in danger from him. He didn't kill Kingston at the docks because he wanted to do it face to face. He didn't kill him at the jail because he wanted to talk to him first."
"You're stretching it again, babe," Nate countered.
"Can you think of any other scenario that explains his behavior? Let's assume for a second that Mackenzie is the Dark Avenger."
"I think we're all already assuming that, honeybunch," Blake returned. "You're the only one who doubts it anymore."
Jo did her best to ignore him. "If he's the one who keeps tipping us off about stuff and then showing up to ruin it for us, he could be playing cat-and-mouse with Kingston. If he wanted to see Kingston arrested, he would have left town by now because he already did get him arrested. He wants to finish the job, and he wants to make sure Kingston knows exactly who it is that's doing him in."
"You missed your calling, girl," Kat returned. "You should be a mystery novelist."
Chief Bates frowned at her. "I don't say you're wrong, but we don't have the resources to put Kingston in protective custody. He's going up for arraignment tomorrow morning, and the FBI is coming into town for the hearing. As soon as he gets arraigned for the Trenton Warehouse fire, the FBI will take him into custody for trafficking. He'll be off our hands and out of our lives."
Nate and Blake turned away, but Jo only stared at the Chief. "And what about the Dark Avenger? Do you still want us to dedicate the rest of our lives to identifying him and bringing him in?"
"If we're right, he'll show up to the hearing tomorrow, too. We'll apprehend him there, but a single charge of attempted murder against a known crime boss isn't near as serious as the raft of charges against Kingston. We'll charge Mackenzie in local district court, and he'll probably get a reduced sentence. For all we know, he has a history with Kingston that explains his behavior."
He bent over his paperwork, and the other three drifted out of the office. Jo lingered, though. She didn't like this perfunctory end to a case she put so much time and effort into solving.
The whole thing smacked of the worst anticlimax she could imagine. If the FBI took Kingston away and Mackenzie served a few years in jail before going back to his business career, she would probably pine from disappointment.
Chapter 7
Nate, Jo, and Kat paced back and forth through the courthouse lobby. Nate propped his hands on his hips, scanning the area. "This is a real bad idea—real bad."
"At least Chief Bates kicked down with a few extra suits." For the thousandth time, Jo checked the number of uniformed Police officers in the building. It was still six, the same as the other times she checked. It hadn't changed, and it wouldn't change between now and the next time she checked.
Just then, Blake poked his head through the side door. "He's here."
The four friends hustled down a long corridor next to the courtroom. They met four more guards leading Gabriel Kingston from the loading platform behind the building.
He looked awfully different in featureless prison orange and shackles hanging from his wrists and ankles. He shuffled his feet, taking tiny steps and guards held onto both his elbows.
The friends stood well back while the guards conducted Kingston into a cell adjacent to the courtroom. They pushed him against the wall, and one took a set of keys out of his pocket. "Same routine as last time, man. As soon as I unlock the cuffs, you put your hands on the wall above yo
ur head. Understand?"
Kingston only nodded. He didn't look at anyone. Jo observed the scene from beyond a pane of bulletproof glass. Kingston put his hands on the wall while the guards unlocked his ankle cuffs and took the chains out of the room.
One of the legal people from the docks pushed in after them. He laid a covered suit on the cell bench. "Get changed, and then we'll talk before you go into the courtroom."
The guards locked the door and Kingston turned around. He shot a hateful scowl through the window at the four detectives staring at him. He bent over and picked up the suit.
Jo approached the glass and hit the intercom button. "I think you know why we're here, Gabriel. If you tell us what we want to know, we might be able to get you out of this alive."
He unzipped the bag and laid the hanger back on the bench. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure, you do," Nate cut in. "Ryder Mackenzie came to see you yesterday. You talked to him for forty-five minutes."
Kingston yanked his prison shirt over his head to reveal a chest cut out of solid muscle. "So what if he did?"
"Tell us what you talked to him about," Jo told him. "If he threatened to kill you, we can arrest him when he shows up today."
He inspected a pristine white business shirt and flicked an invisible speck of dust off it. "What makes you think he'll show up today?"
"He's obviously interested in your case," Blake pointed out. "Did he tell you he's the Mystery Man who's been stalking you all these months?"
Kingston stuck his arms into the sleeves and shouldered into the shirt. He leveled the four detectives with a hard glare while he buttoned it up. "He didn't say anything about it, and he didn't threaten to kill me."
Jo smacked her lips and let out a sigh. "Don't you care at all whether he kills you? Telling us what he's doing might be your only chance to walk away from this."
He bent over the bench and took up his pants. He kicked off his prison pants and pulled the rest of his suit on. He kept his head down.
Jo observed him in silence until he put on his jacket and draped the tie over his neck. Only then did he rotate all the way around and make eye contact with his visitors. Something in his expression made Jo's skin crawl. "Why didn't he kill you at the docks?"
He frowned down at his tie, looping the two ends over each other. He did it slowly and deliberately. When he finished cinching the knot around his neck, he lifted his hard, unfeeling eyes to her face. He seemed to look only at her. "Maybe some part of him still cares about me."
Jo froze, and her breath stopped in her throat. She stared at him suspended out of time.
He bowed his head and sat down on the bench. He leaned back and rested his spine against the cold, concrete wall. He propped one foot on the bench and hooked a meaty elbow around it before designing to look at her again.
Jo's heart stood still. This was it. He must realize it was now or never. He maintained this impenetrable façade right up until the end. Only now, at the very end of the road, did he let it fall.
Jo barely voiced the words that plagued her for days. "Who is he?"
Kingston shrugged and looked off to one side. "He's nobody." Just as fast, he reconsidered. "I never even heard of the asshole before yesterday. He told me this big story about how he grew up on the streets of Montserrat hunting in gutters for food. He told me he even killed a few dogs just for something to eat. He says that, when he was fourteen, his mother, who was his only living relative, told him that she used to be a prostitute when she was his age. She got pregnant from some bigshot American businessman. She spent half an hour with him fourteen years previously and never saw him again. The upshot of that conversation was that the kid made up his mind to come to the States and find the guy." Kingston cracked a grin and barked a horrible laugh. "Can you believe it? That son of a bitch has me to thank that he's richer than I am now."
Jo hardly dared to blink, staring at him. "Are you saying Ryder Mackenzie is.... your son?"
He looked down at his fingers. "When he found out who I was, he became enraged. He took it upon himself to rid the world of me and my.... What was it he called it? My filth. That's what he said. He took it upon himself to rid the world of me and my filth. He's been tracking me for years, keeping tabs on everything I do."
"And you're gonna let him do it, aren't you?" Nate snorted and turned away. "You're as sick as he is."
"Who's to say he isn't right?" Kingston hung his head. "I just don't give a shit anymore, you know? I don't want to go through the damn courts. I just can't bother with it anymore."
"You could bother with it just fine when you were killing people and blowing up their houses," Blake interjected. "You could bother with it as long as you were riding high on the hog and shipping stolen weapons all over the world. Now your version of business is catching up with you, and you want to quit. You're as worthless as he says you are."
Kingston checked his fingernails again. "Probably."
Just then, Kingston's lawyer shouldered past them. He chopped his hand at the friends. "If you detectives don't mind, I need to have a confidential conversation with my client before we go into the courtroom."
He waved them away. Jo and the others retreated, and no one said anything all the way back to the lobby. When they got there, Nate passed his hand across his forehead. "Phew! Can you believe that shit? His son!"
"I thought it had to be something personal like that," Jo remarked.
"You were right about Mackenzie wanting to kill him, too," Kat replied. "He'll never quit until he does it. No wonder Mackenzie didn't kill him at the docks. He had to let Kingston know who he was and why he was doing this."
Blake looked back and forth between the other three. "Are we still gonna try to save this piece of shit?"
"What's the alternative?" Jo asked. "Let him die?"
Blake shrugged. "I'm just saying. We've been working our asses off for months trying to rid the world of him and his filth."
"Easy, homeboy," Nate murmured.
"Tell me I'm wrong," Blake pointed out. "So we're officers of the law, and we don't use language like that for known career criminals, but isn't that what we're really trying to do in the nicest possible way? Would it really be so bad if the Dark Avenger just happened to succeed, and Gabriel Kingston met with an unfortunate end in spite of our best efforts to stop it?"
Jo didn't want to think about deliberately letting a man die a violent death, but before anyone could answer, the courthouse door smashed open. Julian Kingston barged in and stormed up to them. "Where's my dad? I have to see him before the hearing."
Nate held up his hand to the young man. "You can't see him now. He's meeting his lawyer. Their discussion is confidential. You can see him when he comes into the courtroom."
Julian rounded on him, spitting tacks. "Don't give me that shit. I'm seeing him, and I don't give a fuck what you say. No piece of a shit cop is stopping me from seeing my own father. Where is he? Tell me where he is right now before I sue the ever-loving crap out of you and your whole fucking Department."
Nate bristled, but Jo moved between them. "He's in the cells behind the courtroom, Julian. Go through that door and down the hall all the way to the end. You'll find him."
Julian barged away and slammed the door. Quiet descended on the lobby. Nate gritted his teeth and his eyes flashed. "You shouldn't have told him. You shouldn't let him threaten us and the Department like that."
"What difference does it make?" Jo breathed. "This could be the last time he sees his father. Let the lawyer deal with him."
Just then, Chief Bates strode in, though he did it more calmly than Julian. He tapped his wrist. "Showtime, folks. Let's get inside."
He checked the position of the six officers guarding the courthouse, and then he and the friends filed into the courtroom. Beside the bailiff at the front, another five uniformed officers stood at key points around the back of the room. Jo spotted four more plain-clothes Police sitting in the gallery.
S
he and Nate, Blake and Kat didn't sit down. They discussed this plan at length last night. They spread out around the back of the room, too. If anything at all went down, they wanted to be on their feet ahead of time.
Jo's feet itched every time someone entered. Molly Christensen tottered in and took a seat in one of the front benches right behind the Defense table. The District Attorney and his deputy hustled up the aisle. The DA shook hands with Chief Bates, and they exchanged a snatch of conversation before the two lawyers took their places.
Kingston's lawyer and Julian arrived. The lawyer touched Julian's elbow before he went to the Defense table. Julian sat down disturbingly close to Molly. He didn't recognize her at all.
More people filled the gallery. After an eternity of waiting, the bailiff clasped his hands in front of him and called over the crowd. "All rise for the honorable Judge Henrietta Cox."
Everyone stood up, and an elderly black lady with a grey bob sat down at the bench. Two more bailiffs brought Kingston from his cell and put him next to his lawyer.
Jo lost track of what was happening. She searched every face in the room with minute attention. Ryder Mackenzie wasn't here and neither was the Dark Avenger. Did she make a mistake? Maybe Ryder Mackenzie wasn't the Dark Avenger at all. Maybe they got the whole case wrong from front to back. She would never live this down.
She turned her attention back to the hearing. The DA was in the middle of questioning an FBI agent about the affidavits the Agency received from Arthur Christensen and his colleagues.
She drifted off again, watching Kingston's reaction. He kept his features impassive, but Molly was crying her eyes out, listening to the testimony.
What if Blake was right? What if the world would be a better place without Kingston in it? Wasn't that the result she was trying to achieve by becoming a cop in the first place? Why should she stop the Dark Avenger from killing this bastard? In a way, she envied him that he could do what she and her fellow officers could not.
She got lost in her own thoughts. The FBI agent stepped down, and the DA called Chief Bates to the stand. They started going over the events leading to the Soledad Police Department uncovering hard copies of the dead dockworkers' complaint to the FBI.
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