Grey Sky Blues_An Inspector Thomas Sullivan Thriller

by K. C. Sivils

  Something was amiss, but standing there badgering the man wasn’t going to do either of us any good. I just nodded and left.

  I waited till we were in a blind spot in the corridor before stopping to fill in Sarah and the good Father.

  “Something’s up. Corona didn’t even put up a fight.”

  Sarah looked at me then Father Nathan. She bounced up and down on her toes a couple of times, chewing on her bottom lip. Brushing her hair from her face, she gave me a determined look and spoke.

  “I’m going to see Ellie.”

  “It’s okay to be scared,” I told her. “It sharpens those already sharp senses of yours.”

  Sarah brown eyes grew larger as she nodded.

  “Be careful,” Father Nathan advised. “It’s okay if your need to roam kicks in. Just make sure you’re on that shuttle when it takes off.”

  Sarah fixed her gaze on me and nodded, indicating she’d heard the priest.

  “Do the vanishing thing,” I added. “Don’t let the guards ever really have a fix on where you are.”

  She looked away and turned to head towards the guard station, eager to get things over with.

  “Last thing.” Sarah stopped and glanced over her shoulder at me, her eyes showing fear and doubt. That same haunted look I hadn’t seen for months.

  “You find Josephson quick when you get dirtside. Stay away from Markeson unless the pup tells you otherwise. Remain at the dormitory where Ralph and Alice can keep an eye on your with the other kids."

  I said it firmly enough she knew it was an order.

  “If I need to wander?”

  I sighed. Some things never change. “At night. Stay in our neighborhood. Get on the roofs and stay there.”

  Like a small child who had been chastised, Sarah lowered her head and nodded she would obey. Made me feel like a jerk, but I didn’t care. I wanted Sarah away from here and safe.

  To my surprise, Sarah led the way to the guard station. Without a word, she walked right up to the guard's kiosk. With her left hand on her hip and badge held high in the other, Sarah informed the guards to take her to the Visitor's Area to meet with Ellie. She did it with enough arrogance the guards didn't linger to take in her looks.

  The two males ran into each other trying to be the first to the elevator, leaving the lone female guard shaking her head. The elevator door opened, and both guards stepped aside, motioning for Sarah to lead the way. A flirtatious smirk slowly appeared as she tilted her head to the right slightly. With a little more sway to her hips than usual, she stepped into the elevator and waited for the guards to follow.

  As the doors closed and the elevator departed, the female guard, an attractive red head, turned to me and smiled.

  “How may I be of service?”

  I showed her my badge as Father Nathan slipped away unnoticed. He planned to mingle in the cafeteria with the inmates to see what he could learn.

  “Must be nice,” I commented.

  Puzzled the guard answered. "Excuse me, Inspector?"

  “Men are dumb.”

  “Oh, your assistant.” She smiled, giving me a once over. “You aren’t so bad yourself Inspector.”

  “Yeah,” I grunted, surprised at the interest. “Wait till you get to know me.”

  She laughed and tilted her head forward and slightly to the side, biting her lower lip like Sarah did when she wanted something. I figured why not.

  “What’s your name officer?”

  “Laura,” she replied sweetly.

  “Well, Laura. I need to see an inmate by the name of Dmitry.”

  The smile vanished from her face. “The Russian king?”

  “That’s the one.”

  She briskly picked up the comm on the kiosk desk and sent a message. Pointing at the elevator, she told me just to hit the -4 on the buttons.

  I did as ordered.

  It was comforting to know there was at least one C.O. who disapproved of corrupt cops working in Graham.

  SETTING THE CONTAINER down, Bill squinted to read the monitor. His hand shook from too much caffeine from energy drinks.

  “Just make the font size larger,” Josephson said, reaching over to the informant’s monitor.

  “Sorry, this caffeine is affecting me.”

  "That stuff will kill you," Bones said without looking up from his tablet. "Now, if you're going to drink your poison, may I suggest a bottle of 20-year-old Earth Scotch? That's a man's poison there son."

  Josephson and Bill looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

  “What is it you’re looking at,” Josephson asked.

  “Money transfers. Holds, deposits in some hinky accounts. I’m talkin’ billions of credits. If this is a con, I want to know what it is.”

  "No, you don't Bill. The Inspector would just catch you and then you would owe us even more."

  “If it’s not a con, it’s got to be an online book.”

  Josephson thought for a moment.

  “Explain it to me.”

  “Whoever is running the book has set up all kinds of accounts. Tons of trails, so it's hard to follow the money. To place a bet, you make a deposit. The book moves the money to a bunch of different banks. The last bank holds the wager."

  “When the event they’re betting on is over, the bank sends the money to the winner. Either the gambler or the book.”

  Bill grinned at Josephson. "You aren't so dumb for a cop."

  “Money’s already been cleaned when the payout is made.”

  “You got it.”

  The pair looked at each other, realizing what they had stumbled on.

  Bones cleared his throat, drawing their attention. He was looking at them over his large tablet.

  “Now you see why I’m paranoid.”

  The eccentric medical examiner went back to his novel and resumed ignoring the youngsters using his computers.

  “That’s the kind of money gets a lot of people killed,” Josephson whispered.

  The pasty white skin of Bill’s face turned took on an even sicker looking pallor. “You better tell your boss about this.”

  LOOKING OUT OVER THE cons filing in for their meal, Father Nathan considered how to best approach the task before him. What he needed to learn would not be easy to pry out of the cons that would be in the know. To do so, he needed a way to be on their level.

  He took off his black cleric’s coat, revealing the black short sleeve shirt with the telltale white collar identifying him as a priest. It wasn’t the clothing he minded displaying.

  It was the scars and the tattoo.

  Folding the jacket across his right arm to cover the scar from a plasma burn, Father Nathan joined the serving line at the back, patiently waiting his turn to be served.

  He felt the eyes of many a hardened criminal. Not that it worried him. So long as nobody took him by surprise, it was the con who would suffer, not him. His collar would guarantee he walked away from the incident. The con stupid enough to take the good Father on would have a stint first in the infirmary, then solitary.

  Taking his tray, Father Nathan made his way to an empty table next to a wall. Deliberately, he chose the middle seat closest to the wall. Anyone who approached him would not have the advantage of surprise. It was also a table where, he was certain, gang members or a group of violent, like-minded cons would sit. Thus, the reason the table was empty in the middle of an eating shift.

  He didn't have to wait long. Five tattooed thugs with blonde hair cropped close on the sides but left long on the top and slicked back ambled towards the table. He noticed several of the thugs had died their hair blonde. All of them had swastikas in a variety of artistic styles and colors on their forearms. Two of them bore the stylized runes of the ancient organization known simply as the SS. The runes were tattooed on their necks, indicating they had killed for racial reasons.

  The shortest, but most muscular of the group, set his tray down, leaned over and glared at Father Nathan. Failing to intimidate the priest with a dull stare,
he stood up straight and flexed his chest and arm muscles.

  “You’ll have to do better than that,” the priest said, smirking in an effort to provoke the con.

  “This is our table.”

  Father Nathan made a show of looking around the table. “I don’t see a sign saying the table is reserved.”

  Deciding things had gone far enough, the Aryan thug began to worry about losing face to a mere priest.

  "Don't make us hurt you, Holy Man."

  It was Father Nathan’s turn to intimidate.

  His face turned hard, his eyes cold. In a cold monotone, he replied. "You couldn't if you tried."

  Snatching his fork from the tray, the thug held it up inches from the priests face. "I'll carve you up, Holy Man! Your God won't be able to stop me either!"

  It happened so quickly none of the thugs could later describe how the priest did it. Using his right hand, Father Nathan struck downwards on the thug’s wrist, knocking the fork out while slamming the man’s arm down on the table. With his left hand, the priest grabbed the fork out of the air and stabbed it through the goon’s hand, pinning it to the table.

  “Don’t make a sound,” the priest growled in a low whisper, holding on to the fork. “If you do, I stab my fork through your eye. Which one I pick you’ll just have to wait and find out. Do I make myself clear?”

  The con nodded as he let out an agonized gasp. Father Nathan twisted the fork as he pulled it from the man’s hand. Taking the con’s other hand, he placed it over the wound. “Keep pressure on it.”

  Pointing at the youngest of the five, he ordered, “go with him to the infirmary. Not one word about how this happened. I would hate to have to pay you a visit in solitary.”

  “Do as he says,” the oldest Aryan commanded. The con calmly sat down, signaling for the other two to do so as well.

  “You should keep your mouth piece on a tighter leash,” Father Nathan admonished.

  “He’s learning. The young can be impetuous at times. My apologies.”

  Watching and measuring each other for a weakness, the four men ate in silence.

  The leader finally spoke, breaking the silence. “My name is Alfred Fegelein.”

  “Fegelein, like the number two to Himmler in the original SS?”

  A broad smile flashed momentarily on the con’s face. “A student of Old Earth history.”

  “Sort of.”

  “I am the underboss for my gang.”

  Father Nathan nodded.

  “I could not help but notice your tattoo. If young Wilhelm had taken the time to observe first, he would not have acted so rashly.”

  “Painful lesson. He won’t forget.”

  “These, sadly, are the best lessons. Where did you see action with the special forces?”

  “You served?”

  "Yes, but that was long ago. Please, tell me, Father. Where did you serve?"

  “Here, there, where ever the Alliance said we had to go. Got out. Did a few years as a merc.”

  “Then you found God.”

  “More like God found me. I wasn’t looking for him.”

  “Interesting, just where did God find you?”

  “On a little hell hole called Damascus II.”

  Surprise flashed over the Aryan’s face. Followed by a slight respectful bow of his head

  “You are fortunate to be here.”

  “Yeah, there aren’t many of us left who made the drop.”

  Fegelein was quiet for a moment.

  “You are seeking information? Services? Product?”

  “Information. If you are willing to give it.”

  “For a price, we can obtain nearly anything you could want Father.”

  Father Nathan shook his head. “No money involved, vow of poverty and all that. Besides, I’m here with a friend. The Inspector poking his nose around in the murder of the C.O. and the Russian augmented.”

  “King Dmitry has issued an edict we are to cooperate. No charge,” the underboss replied, his poker face on.

  “If you don’t want to talk, I’ll understand and look elsewhere.”

  Fegelein’s poker face didn’t flinch. “That is not necessary. What do you need to know?”

  “What’s the big event going down tomorrow?”

  Father Nathan steeled himself to remain motionless, not to react as the three men flinched in fear and looked at each other.

  “I must speak to our King first Father. This is above my authority to act unilaterally.”

  “Do this for me then. If it’s fights using cons, don’t say a word. Just pick up your trays and leave.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I PULLED THE COMM JOSEPHSON had given me out of its hiding place in my coat. I read the message. Everything was starting to fit in place. How we would wrap this up and get out of this alive, that, that I had still had to figure out.

  Stopping at the guards’ kiosk, I told them who it was I wanted to see. They didn’t even ask if I had authority for the visit. Instead of entering the cellblock where I had met with Dmitry in his private cell, one of the guards motioned for me to follow.

  A few minutes later, he motioned for me to enter what looked like a sauna. Just as quickly, the guard vanished.

  “Dmitry?”

  “Da, who is there,” the Russian snapped back. “How many times must I tell you people, I am not to be interrupted during my steam?”

  “Well, that’s the first I’ve heard of that,” I snapped back. I wasn’t in a mood to take guff off anyone. Even if the guy was a king.

  “Is this Inspector Sullivan, da?”

  “Da, Dmitry, it’s me, Sullivan.”

  “Strip. Get a towel. Join me. We must talk.”

  I don’t strip in front of other men. Not since my days in the Space Marines. I needed the Russian to talk, so I did.

  Wrapped only in a soft, thick white towel, I took a seat on a bench in the room. It smelled of cedar and was hot. Dmitry poured some water on what looked like natural stone and steam rose quickly.

  “There are no listening devices here. I sweep the room personally each time I use it and have my most trustworthy augmented sweep it once a week.”

  I had to smirk at that. “So, if he wants to live another week, he better find any bugs.”

  Dmitry smirked back. “Da, something like that. The desire to live is a powerful thing. But, you did not come here to talk of matters such as this. You came for more important talk, nyet?”

  I didn’t have time to waste. So I got straight to the point.

  "I don't know if the two murders were related. I'm not sure if the death of two guards after we left is related. What I do know is somebody here at Graham is nervous."

  More steam filled the room as Dmitry poured more water on the heated faux stone. "The two guards after you left. I can tell you that much. One of my augmented assets was given an execute command he could not override. As a result, he attacked the guards. The screws later had heart attacks in the clinic."

  He looked me firmly in the eye. “This asset, he attacked the two screws, nyet? I did not sanction this. When the screws, when they succumbed to their wounds, my augmented was grief stricken by what he’d done and committed suicide. The matter is closed.”

  I nodded. Dmitry had handled justice according to the code.

  "Something big is going down Dmitry, something bigger than the Kings. Something big enough people will kill without hesitation if they feel the slightest threat to, oh, shall we say, this enterprise."

  Dmitry reached for a fan to my relief. I’ve grown used to the cold of Beta Prime. The sauna was nice, but the humidity was a bit too much. He suddenly looked older, saddened by everything. He fanned himself slowly as he thought.

  “You are a wise man Inspector.”

  “Can you tell me more?”

  “Leave this place.”

  “I can’t. I have to do my job.”

  Dmitry frowned. “You might not leave here alive if you insist on this.”

  �
�You won’t tell me?”

  His sad smile made Dmitry age before my eyes. “I cannot. I want to, but I cannot break the code. I have lived by it for so long, to do so would tarnish what honor I have left.”

  He wouldn’t snitch. I had to try another approach. One Dmitry could live with.

  “You know I have to get to the bottom of this.”

  “I know. I knew you would not heed my warning, but I respect you, Inspector. I had to warn you."

  "If I come back in a week like you advise. Would things be different then? Could you talk then?"

  Dmitry reached for the blasted dipper to pour more water.

  “Wait, let me tell you what I think.” I studied the man’s face. He laid the dipper back in the bucket of water, its handle resting on the lip of the bucket.

  “Illegal fights, somewhere either in the prison or nearby. The cons are forced to fight, probably so many from each kingdom. Pay-per-view on dark net sites. Betting like nobody’s seen before. My guess is they tell the cons if they win, they get a pardon.”

  The Russian’s face gave nothing away. I knew I was right. I just had to pry the last bit out of him.

  “Except they don’t keep their promise.”

  Anger filled his eyes as he looked at me.

  “To not keep ones’ word is a bad business, da? I despise those who have no honor when it comes to their word.”

  I stood to leave. It took just minutes to change. I stuck my head back into the inferno of the sauna and looked at the Russian King.

  “You are a good man Dmitry. I hope you find peace when you get out.”

  He smiled at me, a rather pleasant smile. “So long as I find a place where the blue sky is grey. Like my home world, should I live so long as to see it again. Goodbye, my friend. Be very careful."

  “Same to you Dmitry. Same to you.”

  I hurried down the corridor. My gut told me I had the why. I even had a vague idea of how, something with the computers here in the prison. That just left who. The Kings were involved only because they had to be.

  My list of suspects became very short.