Operation WetFish, Vampire Detective: Ultimate Omnibus Volume 1 of 4 (Operation WetFish, Vampire Detective Ultimate Omnibus)

by Adam Carter

  He took a step back to consider the situation. He remembered how Sanders had slugged him earlier; his jaw still smarted from the unexpected blow. Sanders was stronger than he looked. He was also smart. And since he was strong and smart there was every reason to think he had outfoxed Jeremiah once again.

  Spinning about, Jeremiah headed across the car park, heading for the far wall clear across the dark area. He stopped several metres from the new wall and shuddered at the thought of having to repeat the entire process. Taking a step back, his foot clanged on something and he looked down to see a metal drain cover. Turning his attention back to the wall, Jeremiah wondered how he was going to …

  His eyes snapped back to the drain cover. It was a rectangle of metal, about two metres by one. The seams were tight, there were no holes with which to grip the cover. There were no stamps of authority upon it, no maker’s signature. There was nothing to indicate this was not exactly what it appeared to be; yet it was airtight. Jeremiah had never before seen an airtight drain cover.

  But being airtight was the only thing which would have prevented Jeremiah from having found whatever was down there when he was exploring this bunker so many years ago.

  Slamming his fingers into the metal, Jeremiah easily tore it from the ground and tossed it to one side. There was a ladder descending into the gloom; he grabbed it with one hand and veritably flew down. His feet kissed the bottom as he landed, like cotton wool floating down in a gentle breeze, and he looked about himself. It was pitch black, but Jeremiah could see just as easily in the darkness as in broad daylight: better even. There was a corridor ahead, ending in a door. He breathed deeply. There was air in this corridor, and it struck him that it was being pumped in from the outside. Nothing could seep through from the car park above, but in his investigations of the grounds, Jeremiah had never sought to locate pipes which likely stretched miles underground.

  He moved quickly to the door, flitting through the tunnel as though he was a shadow. The door had a handle and so he simply opened it, knowing he would find Sanders within, and whatever horror the DCI was hiding.

  Jeremiah’s face fell slightly at what he saw. He was standing within a plush office, several chairs and two tables furnishing the room. The walls were papered and hanging with pictures and there was a water cooler in the corner. Sanders was seated in a straight-backed chair, and showed no surprise at Jeremiah’s intrusion. There was only one other occupant in the room. She was a striking woman with tied-back blonde hair, thin glasses and an imperious expression which did nothing to detract from her apparent beauty. She was dressed in a grey suit and skirt, and was sitting on the edge of a table, her long smooth legs crossed. Jeremiah had not known what to expect, but he was certain this was as far from it as he could possibly get.

  “Well,” Jeremiah smiled, “who knew you had a little love nest down here, Sanders? Tell me, how much of our budget actually gets spent on hookers?”

  Sanders’s expression did not change as he replied. “Jeremiah is one of our officers. A senior field agent with a rather unusual sense of humour.”

  “And clearly,” the woman said, looking at him over the rim of her glasses, “no comprehension of privacy.”

  “That too,” Sanders agreed. “Jeremiah, this is Josephine Dalton. She’s here on business.”

  Jeremiah frowned, decided against making any smutty comments about what that business may have been. He realised she had extended her hand and he accepted it limply.

  Her smile was ice. “Internal affairs, Jeremiah. And, truth be told, I’m rather looking forward to this one.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Flynn had told them nothing on the journey back to the bunker, and so as Baronaire and Lin barrelled through the doors it was to stop short. Officers worked at their desks as usual, many of the other desks were vacant: also as usual. Sanders’s office was empty. Instead the DCI was showing someone around; a strong-looking decisive woman in a suit. Baronaire had never seen a stranger in the bunker before, and it seemed ludicrous to him that Sanders would be taking someone on a tour. It was like bring your family to work day or something, and none of it made any sense to him.

  “Internal affairs,” Jeremiah whispered to Baronaire, sidling up to him silently.

  Baronaire shrugged. That made sense. “Nice legs for internal affairs.”

  “Hmm,” Jeremiah agreed. “Wouldn’t mind having some internal affairs with that one myself.”

  Lin had been the only one to have heard the men’s words and she shook her head. “Honestly, you’re like a couple of teenagers.”

  Sanders was making his way towards the three newcomers by this point and he introduced them. “Sergeant Flynn is our head of security. Charles Baronaire, and Detective Lin are both senior field agents.”

  The woman smiled at Baronaire. There was something of the viper to her eyes, although the lips seemed genuine. Moist, supple, and definitely genuine. “Josephine Dalton,” she introduced herself. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Charles. From the reports DCI Sanders files, you’re by far his most productive officer.”

  “I like to be productive,” Baronaire said, somewhat nervously. He was fully aware of Lin stifling a laugh beside him. He had never felt so uncomfortable before and hoped she was enjoying it while it lasted.

  “He doesn’t like to be called Charles, ma’am,” Lin informed her. “He prefers people to call him Baronaire.”

  “Oh I don’t know,” Dalton said with a sly smile which never left Baronaire, “I’m sure for me he’ll be willing to make an exception.”

  Baronaire cleared his throat, scratched the back of his head and moved off towards his desk. “If you need anything, Miss Dalton, feel free to ask. I should … probably get on with some work now.”

  “I’ll be needing a lot, Charles,” she replied. “In fact, I’ll be interviewing all the senior staff, so I’ll be seeing a lot of you people in the near future. Edward, is there an office I can use while I’m here?”

  “You can have mine, of course.”

  “You’re such a dear.” She moved off slowly for his office and said over her shoulder, “Detective Lin, I think I’d like to see you first. In your own time.”

  Lin looked to Sanders, who raised his eyebrows as though wondering what the detective was still standing there for, and she moved to follow the internal affairs agent.

  Once the door was closed and the two women were talking, one cocksure, the other nervous, Baronaire noticed Sanders was idly making his way towards him. Baronaire had set to writing his report, or at least pretend that he was, and as Sanders stopped close to his desk asked, “What’s going on here, Ed? Since when did internal affairs get interested in anything we do? I thought we were above suspicion in things?”

  “We are. So long as we file our reports and make our superiors know precisely which deaths can be attributed to WetFish we’re supposed to be left alone.”

  “So what went wrong?”

  “Me.”

  “You?”

  “She’s here to investigate me, apparently.”

  Baronaire frowned. “Why? What have you done?”

  “Honestly? I have no idea. That’s what I wanted you to look into.”

  “Me? I didn’t think you trusted me.”

  “Of course I don’t trust you, but I know how to use my available resources to their fullest extent. Jeremiah I wanted away from this place, but it seems there’s nothing I can do about that any more. I was going to introduce Dalton to the team and then contact you. I was hoping you could investigate before coming back here, but that plan’s shot now.”

  Baronaire was uncertain whether to take the man at his word, but Sanders seemed more worried than anything and Baronaire was leaning towards believing he was telling the truth. “What exactly do you want me to look for?” he asked.

  “I don’t know; anything odd. Who is she, what’s her record like, that sort of thing. And why she might be investigating me.”

  Baronaire took up a notepad. “Can yo
u think of anything you might have done to tick off your superiors? Lately I mean?”

  Sanders cast a mild scowl at him and Baronaire smiled.

  “I’ll get on it,” Baronaire said. “But I’d best be around for when Dalton wants to interrogate me.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Sanders said, his eye on something across the office. “I have just the officer to distract her from any thoughts of you, Charles.”

  Baronaire followed his gaze to where Jeremiah was sneakily watching Dalton through the glass. He smiled again. Somehow Baronaire wished he could stick around for this one after all.

  *

  Lin stirred her tea. The break-out area in the bunker had no hidden corners, offered no chance for officers to have sneaky chats without the DCI watching. It was a plain wall filled with utensils. Lin had retreated to it following her interview. Jeremiah was with Dalton now, and she had seemed very eager to talk to the man. Lin shuddered at the memory of her own interview, still so fresh in her mind. Interviews had never bothered her, even when she had been for jobs she had quickly realised were way over her skills; but that woman had something to her. Something sinister. Whatever she was doing here, Lin knew for a fact it wasn’t going to be good.

  “You trying to kill our entire year’s sugar budget?”

  Lin looked up. Baronaire was standing close to her, resting his backside against the tea-making area, his arms folded loosely across his chest. His face had all but healed from whatever it was Flynn had thrown at him, with only a few splotchy red marks remaining. He was trying to smile, which meant he wanted something, although the effect was pretty pathetic.

  Then Lin realised what he meant and she looked back down to her tea, her spoon filled with sugar. “How many?” she winced.

  “Four so far. Was going to stop you at three, but I know better than to argue with a woman in thought.”

  Lin poured the cup away and put the kettle back on the boil. “Try with the eyes next time, Charles.”

  “Eyes?”

  “Real smiles? You don’t fool me, especially if you’re being nice.”

  Baronaire looked genuinely hurt. “I’m always nice to you.”

  Lin thought about that. In fact, compared to his cold treatment to almost every else, he was probably even being truthful there. The kettle boiled and she poured herself some more tea. She didn’t bother to ask Baronaire whether he wanted anything; in all her months at WetFish she couldn’t remember a time Baronaire had partaken in so much as a drink of water. And he was the only one who didn’t seem to appreciate it when Detective Foster brought in chocolate digestives every so often.

  Chocolate digestives. She smiled. What she wouldn’t give right then for a chocolate digestive.

  “You OK?” Baronaire asked. “Look a little weird there.”

  “Sorry, go on. You were saying what you needed from me?”

  “Was I?”

  “Was about to.”

  Baronaire put on his submissive face. It was meant to be reassuring, but … in fact it actually was reassuring. Lin had only known Baronaire for half a year, but she liked the guy. He was moody and silent a lot of the time, but that was part of his charm. He was reliable and loyal and would never leave her in the lurch if she needed help with something. She had to respect that. Which meant she should really help him in whatever it was he wanted from her now.

  She sipped her tea. “Listening.”

  “Tell me what happened in there.”

  “Why?” she asked casually. “So you can prepare?”

  “Because Sanders thinks this woman’s out to get him and we need to know if that’s true.”

  Lin fixed him with half-closed eyes. Ever since she had joined, Baronaire had been on at her to find out for him whatever it was that Sanders knew about his past. Sanders was hiding things, about everyone and from everyone, and Baronaire wanted those secrets. It seemed odd to her mind that Baronaire was now attempting to save the man from disgrace.

  Then it came to her.

  “If Sanders is removed,” she said, “you’ll never get to find out what he knows about you.”

  Baronaire glanced about him in case anyone was listening. “I don’t dislike Sanders, Lin. Tell you the truth I admire him. He stands up for what he believes and isn’t afraid to do the right thing.”

  “What he perceives as the right thing.”

  “I happen to agree with him, with his cause. And you do too, otherwise you wouldn’t still be working here.”

  That much was true, she had to admit. “All right,” she said, trying to piece together the words which would actually make any sense for Baronaire. It was more feeling than fact, and detectives did not work in feelings. “She was asking about Sanders, but in a roundabout way. She wanted to know what it was like working here, whether Sanders ever asked me to do things I didn’t want to do.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  Lin became indignant without even meaning to. “Nothing. But then there’s nothing to tell. Sanders runs things well and should be left alone, and that was exactly what I told her.”

  “At least I can count on some people’s loyalty,” Sanders said, moving between them both to gain access to the kettle. He had left his mug in his office so was making do with a World’s Best Dad one. Lin had seen it somewhere before, but she really wasn’t bothered about it at that moment. “Oh, sorry,” Sanders said as he poured the water, “didn’t mean to stop you two nattering.”

  “We were talking about Dalton,” Lin said.

  “I know. I didn’t mean to overhear, but I was eavesdropping. Did you get anything on her, Charles?”

  Baronaire glanced to Lin, who got the impression he was asking permission. Sanders simply waved away his concerns as though secrecy really didn’t matter any more, and Lin was surprised at the DCI’s somewhat cavalier attitude which had suddenly sprung from nowhere. She guessed there was a part of him which understood he might well be losing his empire and had decided whatever would be would be.

  “She’s legit,” Baronaire said.

  “Damn,” Sanders said, sipping his tea. “I was kind of hoping I could lock her up somewhere and no one would care.”

  “What’s her record like?” Lin asked. “Does she have a reputation?”

  “Spotless,” Baronaire replied. “She’s spearheaded a couple of big internal investigations in the past and always got her man. If she really is gunning for you, Ed, you might not make it out of this one intact.”

  “What’s her intent though?” Lin asked. “Even if she did manage to remove you, sir, does she intend to replace you? Or promote someone from WetFish over you?”

  “Steady on there, Lin,” Sanders said. “I’m not even gone yet.”

  “Not my point, sir. I meant more that you’re irreplaceable. No one knows WetFish like you do, that’s kind of your entire point. You don’t like anyone knowing too much in case they talk.”

  “Good job I have that policy too.”

  Lin remembered his earlier comment. He had said at least some people were loyal. “Who’s with her now?” she asked.

  “Jeremiah. And he seems to be having a whale of a time in there with her.”

  “What’s he saying?”

  “I don’t know. I can read lips, but they keep turning from me, or raising their hands at the most inopportune moments. All I keep catching are snippets. Nothing which helps any.”

  “Then they know,” Baronaire said. “They know you can read lips and they’re doing it on purpose.”

  “Probably,” Sanders sighed. “Doesn’t help me any though. We have any digestives left?”

  “No, sir,” said Lin. “You don’t seem worried.”

  “If this is the end, it’s the end. I can’t see it somehow though. My reports are always complete, our record here at WetFish verges on spotless. We’ve had a couple of mishaps along the line, but nothing I’ve never not admitted to.”

  Lin thought back to her own short time in WetFish. She had taken over from an officer
who had been tidying up a crime scene he had created, only to have a witness wander in. That witness had to be taken care of; in fact Lin and Baronaire had cleaned up that mistake themselves. More recently had Lin, Baronaire and Foster gone to Scotland. They had completed their assignment without any problem, but the local constabulary had become involved and their names had been revealed. It didn’t matter of course, since they were legitimate officers of the London police, but too many instances added up to something quantifiable. And Lin knew there were more and more conspiracy theorists out there who genuinely believed their government was up to something along similar lines to what they were doing.

  “Maybe she’s just being cautious,” Lin suggested.

  Sanders and Baronaire both grunted in the same instant. Lin could not help but be reminded as to just how similar the two men truly were, even though they would never admit to it.

  “I should have a word with Jeremiah when he comes out,” Baronaire said.

  “I asked him to keep Dalton busy while we investigated,” Sanders said. “But I don’t trust him, so I have to assume he’s after his own goals here.”

  “If you don’t trust him,” Lin said, “why’s he even on the payroll?”

  “Because it’s where I can best keep an eye on him. Charles, do some more digging. I need some answers or I’m going to go nuts.”

  “She’s coming,” Lin said, looking busy, which was quite difficult while standing next to the kettle.

  Dalton stopped when she reached the three of them, standing in a line, all looking as guilty as a five year old with chocolate stains around his mouth. “Good to see it’s not all work down here,” she said. “Baronaire, you’re up.”

  “Oh,” Baronaire said. “I was just …”

  “Well you can do that later.” She turned and headed back to her office. Baronaire looked to Sanders and raised his eyebrows.

  “Go,” Sanders said. “I’ll make some calls of my own.”