Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Call

by P. T. Dilloway

  Lieutenant Donovan frowned at the obvious dismissal. “Yes, sir. I understand.” She left Kramer at his desk and resisted the urge to pummel the idiot to a pulp. How could he be so blind? The evidence was so clear a child could see it.

  She sat at her desk and sorted through the files on her desk so she could get the evidence down to forensics to analyze. They would waste days to tell her what she already knew: the weapon delivered to her desk had killed all of the victims, which included Lois Early. In the meantime, there was no way to tell how many more would die because the department was after the wrong person.

  She leafed through the file for Lois’s murder, but then stopped when she saw the bottom of the report. Kramer had filed the report as the first one on the scene. At the time she hadn’t thought much of it, too concerned with Lois’s murder and then she’d gotten swept up in the search for Emma Earl.

  At the time of the murder she had been tailing Kramer after his suspicious behavior in the Steve Scherr murder. Then too Kramer had been first to the scene. That a police captain would be the first to the scene of two high profile killings didn’t make sense. He had been nearby in his cruiser for both crimes, as if he’d expected them to happen. “Shit.”

  Lieutenant Donovan tossed the files aside and leaped from her desk. She ran back to Kramer’s office, but he was gone. On her way to the front door she nearly bowled into the officer she’d sent to halt the search of the sewers. “I did what you asked,” the officer said.

  “Good. Did you see Captain Kramer leave through here?”

  “Just a minute ago. Is—” Lieutenant Donovan didn’t wait to hear the rest of it; she was already out the door to retrieve her car.

  ***

  With the heavy traffic in the city, Lieutenant Donovan didn’t have a prayer to pick up her supervisor’s trail. At this point there was little she could do but try likely places Kramer might be and hope for the best. If he was really spooked, then it was unlikely this tactic would do anything more than waste time.

  As she drove, Lieutenant Donovan tried to figure out what Kramer’s involvement might be. The murder of Steve Scherr had clearly not been caused by the Black Dragoon, so why had Kramer been nearby as if he expected it? How did it connect to Lois’s murder? It didn’t make any sense.

  There was only one way to unravel everything: find Kramer and get a confession. At this point she didn’t give a shit about internal affairs or if they took her badge; she would get to the truth no matter what it took. And she would take no small amount of pleasure in beating a confession out of that weasel.

  Something told her Kramer was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. A worm like him didn’t have the guts to initiate any kind of criminal scheme on his own. Someone had to be in control of him; that someone had plotted the murders of Scherr and Lois and then fed Kramer with the times and locations so he could be first on the scene. Even in a corrupt department like Rampart City, the word of a police captain was difficult to question. If he said the Scarlet Knight had fled the scene of a murder and the victim had been stabbed, that was enough for the rest of the department.

  But if someone had used Kramer to plant evidence, that meant everything had to be brought into question. This included the red hairs found on Lois’s body that had been traced to Emma Earl. Perhaps Kramer had planted these hairs to implicate Earl. But where would he have gotten hold of them? Earl and Kramer had probably never met, not even at the Scherr wedding. That meant the accomplice who’d given him the time and location for the murders had supplied him with the planted evidence, if not planted it him or herself.

  Lieutenant Donovan’s head began to ache. She couldn’t be sure who or what to trust anymore. This wasn’t a new feeling after all her years in the department. For years her attempts to bring in Don Vendetta had been thwarted by corruption within the force.

  The don added another piece to the puzzle. Someone had destroyed the evidence in the Vendetta case with the fire in the evidence locker. Whoever had done it had somehow evaded the security cameras in the locker. Kramer might have done it or at the very least provided details on the placement of cameras in the evidence locker. The more she thought back, the more everything seemed to link together—all of it pointed at Kramer.

  The lieutenant pounded the steering wheel in frustration. How could she have been so stupid not to put it together earlier? Because she had been too busy with the Vendetta case, then the Scherr murder, and then Lois Early’s murder. It had gotten to be too much to handle. If she ever got to the bottom of it all, she might finally take that vacation she had put off for so long. Or she might quit and move to one of the suburbs where they didn’t have to deal with nearly this much bullshit.

  She stopped the car in front of Kramer’s house. As expected, she didn’t see his car in the driveway. She got out and then knocked on the front door. A haggard woman came to the door. “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Lieutenant Lottie Donovan. I’m looking for your husband.”

  “I don’t know where he is. Probably out with his whore.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I know this is difficult, but do you know where that might be? I need to find him.”

  “You might try the Paradise Motel. That’s where he usually goes.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Is Mitch in trouble?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good.” Kramer’s wife slammed the door shut.

  The Paradise Motel was located in the rundown industrial section of the city. It was one of many seedy motels that offered hourly rates for those who sought little more than a bed not located in their home. Kramer’s car was parked around the corner from the building, no one inside it.

  Lieutenant Donovan hurried inside the motel to see the desk clerk dozed in front of a television. She slapped her badge against the bulletproof glass divider to rouse him. “I’m looking for Mitch Kramer. What room is he in?”

  “No one by that name here.”

  She gave him a description of Kramer, which did little to jog the clerk’s memory. He was probably high or drunk or he didn’t give a shit. “If you don’t tell me where he is I’m going to kick down every door in this place. You got it?”

  The clerk rubbed his red eyes and then looked at the register. “I think he’s in 302.”

  “You better be right or I’m coming back down here.” She took the pistol out of her shoulder holster to let the clerk get a good look at it before she headed for the stairs; she didn’t trust the elevator in a place like this.

  She found room 302 and then paused at the door. From inside she heard voices, one of which belonged to Kramer. “What are we going to do?” he asked.

  “Leave things to me. You just rest here,” a woman said.

  That was all Lieutenant Donovan needed. She threw herself against the door; the cheap lock easily gave way. As she burst inside, she saw a dark-haired woman jump onto the fire escape. Before Lieutenant Donovan could get a shot off, the woman had already thrown herself off the railing. The lieutenant looked down into the alley, but saw only a shadowy figure disappear into the night. “Shit.”

  She turned back to the bed, where Kramer lay in only his boxer shorts. His eyes stared up at the ceiling. She waved a hand in front of his face, but he didn’t blink. His chest felt cold to her touch; she didn’t need to feel for a pulse to know he was dead.

  And with Kramer’s death she was at a dead end.

  Chapter 22

  Beaux and Mr. Graves looked up at Marlin as he hovered over the fire. “What’s going on here?” Marlin asked. He pointed to Mr. Graves. “How did he get here?”

  “He walked here, same as you,” Beaux said.

  “Don’t be daft, woman. I mean how did he get to the astral plane? Those meddling witches send you?”

  “I’m not exactly sure how I got here,” Mr. Graves said. “One moment I was in the Sanctuary bleeding to death and the next I woke up in a meadow.” Mr. Graves flexed his left leg, which for over thirty years
had been stiff after a battle with the Black Dragoon. “Feels good as new. Better than new, really. Is this Heaven?”

  “For some, perhaps,” Marlin said. “For others it’s more like a resting place for the spirit.”

  “So am I dead?”

  “I wouldn’t have any idea. I’ve been talking to my master.”

  “Really? Where is the old bloke? I’ve always wanted to meet him.”

  “He’s up on the mountain. Not likely you’d get up there unless you want to die again.”

  “Speaking of, did he get rid of that curse?” Beaux asked.

  “Yes, no thanks to you.”

  “I’m sorry. It did work, though.”

  “I suppose it did. Don’t expect me to thank you.”

  “This young lady says you and she used to shag back in the day,” Mr. Graves said. “All this time I thought you were a bit swishy myself.”

  “Oh really? For your information—”

  “That’s enough you two,” Beaux said. “Percival is my guest so you behave yourself.”

  “Your guest? You haven’t even got a hut, just this fire.”

  “Home is where you make it.”

  “Yes, fine. I was hoping we might have a word. Privately. Before I have to go.”

  Mr. Graves smiled at this. “I see. I suppose I’ll go out and take a look at those sheep of yours. Always wanted a herd of them myself.”

  After Mr. Graves had gone, Marlin floated down closer to Beaux. “I’ve got to be going soon. I’m not sure when I’m coming back.”

  “You can come back anytime you want. I’ll still be here.”

  “In case I don’t see you for another three thousand years, I wanted to say—” Marlin’s voice trailed off. He had hoped this would get easier with time, but if anything it became more difficult. “I wanted to say I love you.”

  “That’s very sweet.”

  “That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “I love you too. You should know that by now. Why do you think I’ve been sitting around here?”

  “Maybe when the Order doesn’t need me anymore, I can come back here.”

  “And do what, herd sheep with me? The Order is always going to need you.” She reached out to him, but her hand passed through his. “Maybe you can take a vacation every now and then to pay me a visit.”

  “I will.”

  “Good.” Beaux smiled at him and nodded towards the pasture, where Mr. Graves wrestled with one of the sheep. “I don’t think I’ll be too lonely.”

  “You better watch out for him. He’s a horny old goat.”

  “I know how to deal with those.”

  Marlin yearned to be able to touch Beaux again, to kiss her goodbye, but it wasn’t possible. He could only stare at her longingly for a moment. Then he floated away to leave her by the fire.

  ***

  He appeared not in the basement of Mrs. Chiostro’s house or in the Sanctuary, but in the middle of a sewage pit. “Those bloody conjurers, can’t get anything right,” he grumbled. He’d have to float up to the surface to get his bearings and then begin to search for Emma.

  That turned out to be unnecessary when he heard her say, “You’re back?”

  Then he saw why he had reentered the world at this awful spot. Emma sat on a makeshift bed made of newspapers, cardboard boxes, and a few things Marlin couldn’t identify. The red case for the Scarlet Knight’s armor rested next to the bed, along with the largest rat Marlin had ever seen. “What are you doing down here?” he asked.

  She patted her left arm, which at the moment was bound in a makeshift sling. “I’m recuperating.”

  “Yes, this seems like the perfect place for convalescence.” The rat beside Emma’s bed let out a stream of squeaks, its beady eyes fixed on Marlin. The creature looked as if it wanted to take a few swipes at Marlin, until Emma made some squeaks of her own. The rat settled down and let Emma pat the silver streak on its back. “You’re talking to animals now?”

  “It’s really a fascinating language. More complex than any human tongue.”

  Marlin floated over towards the bed to stay to the opposite side from the rat. “Could you please tell me what the bloody hell is going on? I leave you for a few days and you end up in the sewer talking to rats.”

  She told him about Officer Early’s murder and that the police had somehow pegged Emma for the crime and deduced she was the Scarlet Knight. She went on to say the Black Dragoon had waited for her and Mr. Graves in the Sanctuary and Mr. Graves’s heroic sacrifice. She stopped to indicate a crate by the wall. “I haven’t had the chance to bury him yet.”

  Marlin stared down at the bones and ashes in the crate. “Unbelievable. I talked to him a few minutes ago.”

  “You did?”

  “On the astral plane. He’s on his way to becoming a shepherd.”

  “Really? That’s wonderful.”

  “I suppose if you like that sort of thing.” Marlin tried not to think what Mr. Graves and Beaux might get up to during those long nights after the flock went to sleep. “So you’ve been hiding down here, learning to talk to rats?”

  “Not exactly. I found out who the Dragoon is.” Emma’s lip trembled. “It’s Becky.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I saw her. I tried to confront her. She said a lot of terrible things. Horrible things.” From the look on Emma’s face, Marlin knew it best not to press her on what those things might be. “You were right about Isis. She’s behind everything. I can’t be sure yet, but I think she killed Steve, or had him killed at least. Then she used that to turn Becky and use her to gather the hearts she’s using for strength. I’m not sure what I can do about any of it.”

  Marlin nodded; this was exactly the dark one’s style. It depended on how many hearts she had devoured, but she could be close to full strength. There might not be much time left. He thought back to the master’s words and now he understood the significance of them. “Listen to your heart,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I mean it. That’s what my master wanted you to know.”

  “You talked to him? I thought he was asleep.”

  “Well, not exactly.” He told her about the great battle that had taken place four thousand years ago. It was the greatest battle of magic the world had ever known; the dark one and Merlin had struggled with each other for days. In the end Merlin’s magic had prevailed as Marlin knew it would, but the resulting explosion wiped out virtually all life in what was now the Sahara Desert. Whole tribes of primitive people had been destroyed, while others were scattered forever. “He blamed himself for it. He’s like you that way, always blaming himself for things that aren’t his fault.”

  “So he went to this astral plane then?”

  “He thought it safer for the world if he left. He figured the Order of the Scarlet Knight could handle anything else.”

  “What about now?”

  Marlin shook his head. “He isn’t ready to come back yet.”

  “I guess that would be a little too deus ex machina.”

  “If she isn’t too powerful then there’s a chance you can still handle her.”

  “What about Becky? What am I supposed to do about her?”

  “I don’t know.” Marlin shrugged. “Maybe if you take care of this Isis bitch, Becky will snap out of it.”

  “Maybe. What if she doesn’t? I can’t kill her. She’s my best friend.”

  “She’s the Black Dragoon. You can’t let her go free.”

  “I won’t kill her.”

  “Then maybe you can just wound her.” Marlin knew this line of discussion wouldn’t go anywhere, given Emma didn’t like to kill anyone. In the history of the Order she was the only one to never have taken a human life, though she had dealt with many who certainly deserved it. “We can work on finding a way to stop her without killing her.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. Ask the witches. Maybe they can make a potion.”

  “They left the city. I’m not su
re where they went.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  ***

  Mrs. Chiostro wished she had thought to tidy up the house a bit before Tabitha vanished into the parlor with them. Provided they survived this, she was certain Tabitha would tell the others what a sad state Mrs. Chiostro and Sylvia lived in. That would probably make Regina and the others happy.

  “When are we going to go out and see the place? I haven’t been here in decades,” Tabitha said.

  “Now, dear, there’s no time for going out on the town. We have serious business here,” Mrs. Chiostro said.

  “I say we find this bitch and kick her ass,” Sylvia said. “Three against one shouldn’t be too tough.”

  “Unless she’s regained her strength, in which case we’ll need far more than three.” Mrs. Chiostro shook her head. “I think we need to employ more subtlety.”

  “You mean like spy on her?” Tabitha asked.

  “Perhaps.”

  “But if she sees us we’ll be in for it,” Tabitha said.

  “There you hags are,” Marlin said. He floated in through the wall and shook his head. “So, you’ve brought reinforcements, have you?”

  “After a fashion. Tabitha, this is Marlin, assistant to Merlin.”

  Tabitha was not impressed by this. If anything, she looked as irritated as Marlin sounded. Mrs. Chiostro tried to keep her voice light as she said, “How did things go on the astral plane? Did you find him?”

  “Yes.” Marlin told them of his trip to the astral plane and meeting with Merlin. “If we run into too much trouble, he’ll come back.”

  Sylvia snorted at this. “I wouldn’t hold your breath—if you had breath.”

  “I trust him far more than I trust you. How could you leave that poor girl alone?”

  “You’re the Keeper of the Lore,” Sylvia said.

  “Now you two, let’s not fight. Has something happened to Emma?” Mrs. Chiostro asked. Marlin described the battle in the Sanctuary and Emma’s subsequent discovery of the Dragoon’s identity. “Oh dear. This makes things far more difficult.”