My breath exhaled in a vaporous cloud as I squinted and looked around. “Where the hell are you?”
“Behind you.”
I whirled around. The silhouetted figure was lean in build, draped in a long flogger with his face shaded by a wide-brimmed Bogart. Vision was pretty poor, but I found it easy to focus on the Mark .38 suppressed semi-automatic pistol because it was aimed directly at me.
The soft spitting sound of the shots was a direct contrast to the pain that exploded in my chest and midsection as the slugs penetrated at close range. I tumbled backward and hit the wet asphalt, my vision hazy and my limbs refusing to respond. Trying to breathe was agony, my lungs felt flattened by a stack of bricks. I settled for helplessly gasping as rain pelted my face, the droplets glittering from the lights high above where air traffic flowed uncaringly with computer-guided precision.
I heard the triggerman’s approach before his silhouetted figure blotted out the view. He stood there for an eternity with the handgun pointed directly at my shuddering face. Water slid down the cold metal, streaming from the end of the barrel onto my forehead. His features were still obscured by his Bogart, transforming him into a faceless angel of Death with my life in his hands.
After a seeming eternity he lowered the pistol and strode away. The wind whipped through, flailing his flogger and allowing me a view of his slender legs and willowy stride. I almost choked with bitter laughter.
He wasn’t a man at all. The hips and legs under the flogger were definitely feminine.
The dame strode past quickly, out of my line of sight and into the thundering downpour. The sound of her footsteps quickly faded away along with my consciousness, morphing the rain into a myriad of shimmering jewels flitting across murky shadows.
Everything turned crimson as my blood clouded the puddle I lay in. My heartbeat pulsed softer as the pain fled my body and a chill settled in. The last thing I heard was smooth jazz music from the dingy nightclub just around the corner. The harmony of the sax, trumpet, bass and drums blended into a heartbreaking refrain. The sound warbled in my ears, accompanying the staccato of the rain to create the most depressing harmony ever.
It was the perfect soundtrack to die to.
Chapter 11: Dying Is Easy
Recovering consciousness was a grim combination of underwater sounds, a sudden rush of blinding light, and a rock concert of pain gremlins exploding my head. I grimaced, trying to make it all go away. Reality wouldn’t cooperate. A mixed bag of scents tickled my nostrils: sterile hospital air, stale medicine, soap and leather, and the faintest aroma of herbal shampoo and lavender.
My voice croaked like a dying toad. “Natasha?”
“I’m here, Mick.”
My hands scrabbled blindly until they found hers. I heaved a sigh of relief and blinked rapidly, trying to clear the glare of white light. Blurred figures slowly focused, morphing from creepily obscure shadows into the recognizable faces of people that apparently cared if I lived or died.
Ben the Bear hulked in the corner with a dejected expression on his mug for some reason. Poddar sat in a chair nearby. He shrugged in a bemused manner when he caught my gaze. Ms. Kilby sat beside him, eyeing me in her deliberate manner. Detective Flask leaned against the wall with his arms folded, looking bleary-eyed as though he’d been roused from his sleep.
But the most important person sat on the bedside, her eyes locked on my face. Natasha blinked away tears and smiled, lighting up the room with a much warmer glow than the phosphorous. She had managed to change clothes somehow, dressed sensibly in black ladies sailor pants, tight at the waist and loose in the legs, with a silky white Berlin blouse under her mid-length black and white overcoat. Her hair was pinned up under a stylish Madri Cloche felt hat. I wondered how she could have changed clothes so fast. It’s odd, the things you wonder about when you come back from dying.
“We thought you were dead, Mick.” Natasha exhaled a shuddering breath. “You were dead. You weren’t moving, and Benny couldn’t feel a pulse…” Her voice cut off as she paused to collect herself.
I patted her hand as I tried to look at the equipment hooked up to me. The room was standard: gleaming white walls, light-effusing ceilings, uncomfortable bed. An automated nurse system displayed my vitals bedside. Various sized tubes sprouted from its innards to my innards, creating an amalgam of bodily and medical fluids that transferred upon necessity. I tried not to think of where some of those tubes were inserted, although the discomfort in my nether regions made it a bit difficult to ignore.
“Natasha called the office on the way to the hospital,” Poddar said. “Luckily I was still there. This is what happens when I let you out of my sight.” He cut a glance at Benny, who glowered a minute before dropping his gaze.
“He’s right.” Benny stared at his massive hands. “I was supposed to have your back, Mick. I let you down.”
“Let me down?” I tried to chuckle, but the vibrations stabbed like dull scissors in my torso. “I told you to guard Natasha with your life.” I gritted my teeth and sat up to look at him. “You did that. So knock off the guilt trip, Ace. You did good.”
Benny sat up straighter, his face brightening up a bit. Poddar nodded slowly and stood. “Let’s give Mick a moment. We’ll wait outside.”
Flask looked to argue, but took a second look at Poddar and changed his mind. Flask was smarter than he looked.
Natasha waited before they left before turning back to me. She clutched my hand tightly. “Mick…”
“It’s all right, darlin’. I tried to avoid exposing you to any of this, but I should’ve known better than to get you mixed up in–”
“Don’t.” Natasha’s eyes hardened. “Don’t act as if I can’t handle this, Mick. I’m not some silly girl with her head in the clouds. You can’t just lock me away somewhere to keep me safe. My parents tried that. It didn’t work then. It won’t work now. You can’t protect me, Mick. Not from everything.”
The truth of her words hurt worse than the shots to the gut. Because she was right. At any given time someone in the city could snuff her life in a hot second, whether they had an agenda against me or not. It was all in the toss of a coin. Life and death collided every day in New Haven. All you could do was toss the dice and hope they landed in your favor.
I squeezed her hand. “Ok, Natasha. I won’t press the issue. You got the right to stand on your own two. I respect that.” I craned my neck toward the bedside nurse panel. “Time to check on the damage. Nurse, what kinda hurt am I dealing with?”
The nearest console lit up, revealing a smiling, dark-haired digital dame in a nurse’s cap. “Hello, Mr. Benedict. I’m Nurse Goodkind, and I’ll be assisting you to recovery. Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
I didn’t object to the wrong name since I figured ‘Benedict’ must have been the alias I was signed under to prevent anyone who might have been inclined to finish the job. “I thought I was dead, so I gotta say I’m doing better than expected, Nurse.”
She smiled and nodded in a kindly manner, digital eyes oozing with empathy. “Well I must say it was a surprise to discover you had an injury-repairing nanomachine system already installed in your bloodstream. Were it not for that you surely would have expired. Of the four bullets we removed, one deflated a lung and another ruptured a kidney. The remaining two managed to exit the body with minimal damage to your major organs.”
I winced as I sat up straighter. “You said I had a repair system. Past tense. Like I no longer have it.”
She nodded. “That’s correct, Mr. Benedict. While the bio-genetic hardware is still in place, it is depleted of the nanoaccelerators that fuels it. Your grievous injuries taxed your remaining supply. The system will not operate until it is refueled.”
I scratched my head. “That’s just great, Nurse. You saying I’m all outta quick-healing magic juice?”
“In a sense that is correct, Mr. Benedict. You are stabilized for now, but further injury would be devastating to say the least. You sho
uld definitely avoid any serious injuries for the foreseeable future, as well as situations that might reinjure your wounds.”
I grinned. “You must not know what I do for a living, Nurse. Thanks for the advice, though. Now howzabout you unhook me from all these tubes and doodads so I can get back to doing what I do?”
Static buzzed agitatedly across Nurse Goodkind’s digitally distressed face. “I’m afraid you’re in no shape to–”
“Don’t worry, dollface. I’ll sign the papers absolving the hospital of any liability.”
The screen pulsed with luminosity. “In that case, we’ll get you sorted right away, Mr. Benedict.”
Natasha placed a hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure about this, Mick? You look like you can barely stand.”
I gave her my best comforting smile. “You trust me, don’tcha?”
“You know I do.”
“Then believe me when I say I’ve never felt better. Modern medicine at its finest and all that. Meantime I still got a case to solve, something I can’t do cooling my heels in a hospital bed. And lastly, when it comes to raw manliness Mick Trubble comes second to none. So I’ll be fine.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, but to her credit didn’t bother calling my bluff. “Whatever you say, Mick.”
“Here’s the formal release form, Mr. Benedict.” The computer extended a screen my direction. “Just sign with the attached stylus and you’ll be on your way.”
I signed the release. The nurse system responded by removing all of the tubes and wires hooked to my body at practically the same time. The resulting sensation was pretty much what I imagined medieval torture would feel like.
But staying true to my manly reputation, I barely cried.
Crunch time. It pays to sit down and come up with a plan after getting shot and left for dead. The office was the best place to do that. We threw some chairs together around a table for an impromptu conference. Rain slapped against the window as I appreciatively sipped the java Angel served up. It was pretty hard to concentrate with a head clouded by meds and a body still reeling from being decorated with lead buttons, but I didn’t exactly have time to take a break and recuperate. The entire case had flipped upside down, and everything I had previously figured was thrown out the window.
“Ok, first things first. You all don’t know Natasha, so we’ll get the introductions out the way. Everyone: this is Natasha, good friend and owner of the pad where I hang my Bogart. Natasha, meet Ms. Kilby: the dame who bought out my business and signs my checks. The overprotective fella next to her is Poddar, my partner of sorts. The lovely lady to the left is Angel, who manages the office and keeps us on the straight-and-narrow. Her sour-faced boyfriend is Detective Flask, a frenemy of mine. And you’ve already met Ben the Bear, terror of the criminal underworld.”
Natasha nodded. “Nice to meet all of you.”
I was proud of the way she held her composure in the face of all the inquiring looks. Up until then I hadn’t mentioned her to anyone on account of trying to keep her out of harm’s way. But the cat was out the bag, so there was not point trying to pretend things could go back to before. Natasha was part of the tiny circle of folks I trusted, and it was best they all knew one another.
“Frenemy?” Flask shook his head. “I’m hurt, Mick. I thought we were all on the same team.”
I glared at him. “I thought so too, until I found out you lied to me. You said surveillance didn’t catch Scarlett leaving the hotel. I got it on good word that it did.”
“C’mon Mick.” Flask didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed. “You know how a shakedown works. I had to put some pressure on you to find out what you knew.”
“So what else are you holding back, cop?”
“As you know, surveillance orbots sweep the districts periodically. Using their footage along with traffic and building cameras, we were able to retrace her route up to a point.”
“What point?”
Flask frowned. “Complete surveillance blackout a few miles away from the hotel. Never seen anything like it. All cameras just went dark. The killer is technically proficient in addition to being one sick bastard.”
“Surveillance is supposed to be pretty hard to crack. What’s the word inside?”
“There is no word. It’s been chalked off as an equipment malfunction. You know how it works. But the word I got is the labcoats at IT are sweating blood trying to figure out what happened.”
I frowned. “And you didn’t think I needed to know that info before going in?”
Flask shook his head. “I told you this was dangerous, Mick. You should’ve taken me up on my offer for protection.”
My mouth twisted. “C’mon, Flask. Half the coppers in New Haven are on Moe Flacco’s payroll. The other half are bought by the rest of the wise guys. If I’d been at your clubhouse I’d be modeling a brand-new toe tag right now.”
He grimaced, but didn’t bother denying the slightly exaggerated statement.”You were almost iced anyway, Mick. You look like you can barely stand. Don’t see how things have improved much.”
I pulled a deck of smokes from my pocket and lit one. “For starters, Moe knows I didn’t kill his little girl. So I can rule out the triggerman being on his payroll. And at least now I have a few clues on who’s gunning for me and why.”
“Yeah? Why don’t you share with the rest of the class?”
“It was a dame that pulled the hit. I got an up close and personal view of her figure when she walked past me as I was pumping blood in the gutters. She’s someone I have a history with.” I exhaled a stream of gasper smoke. “Bad history. For her the hit was personal.”
Ms. Kilby studied my face. “You’re sure about that?”
“She told me enough to know we’ve met before.”
“And do you have an idea who this mystery woman might be?”
“Haven’t the foggiest.” I cut a keen glance her direction. “That’s where you come in.”
Kilby leaned back, a hint of a smile on her lips as she adjusted her thin-rimmed eyeglasses. “Why would I know something that you don’t, Mr. Trubble?”
“You wouldn’t. But folks you know might. Because when it comes to badass dames with guns, none come any badder than the Gutter Girls, right?”
Kilby’s eyes narrowed. “You understand I’m only loosely affiliated with that organization, don’t you? You don’t see me in a latex catsuit with weapons strapped to my body for a reason.”
I lifted my hands in a forestalling gesture. “I understand. But loosely affiliated or not, you should be able to do a little digging and find out if any of their members have a contract on your favorite Troubleshooter, right? Just trying to eliminate as many possibilities as possible.”
Kilby’s mouth tightened, but she nodded reluctantly. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Outstanding. Give Selene my regards.” I turned to Flask. “What have you turned up so far?”
His laugh was distinctly humorless. “Nothing, Mick. Just been sitting around with my thumbs in my ass waiting for you to solve the case.”
“Besides that.”
He glowered. “I’ve got men combing the city for clues, goddamnit. They’re not going to come up with much. People get their throats cut every night in this city and you know it, Mick. And on top of that the Mob is all tied in, so you can bet nobody will talk even if they know something. So don’t play games with me. I got you on the case because I don’t want some kind of gang war to explode in the streets. Seems like all you’ve been able to do so far is catch a few stray slugs. Pardon my lack of empathy.”
Angel patted him on the arm. “No need to get all riled up, Roddy. Everyone’s one edge right now.”
I gave Flask my most annoying smirk. “That’s right, ‘Roddy.’ Let’s not let our emotions get the best of us. Time to bump noggins and see what spills. So what do we got so far?”
Benny cleared his throat. “My cousin Sophia–murdered. That’s first and foremost.”
I nodded. �
��That’s where everything started. This faceless dame claimed the hit, but why?”
Benny frowned. “I thought you said this was someone out to get Moe by knocking off his family. You said Sophia was the first, and the attack earlier tonight was the same person trying to whack me.”
“Earlier last night, actually. It’s a brand new day, sport. But you’re right. That was my assumption at the time. Things have changed.”
“How so?”
Poddar stirred from his chair, his dark eyes thoughtful. “Because the attack on Mick wouldn’t make sense in that scenario. Why attack Mick if the point was to kill you, Ben?”
Benny shrugged. “To get him outta the way, I guess.”
“The dame said she was targeting me with an X-ray scope. I don’t think she was bluffing. That being the case, there was no need to even alert me at all. She could have taken the shot at you in your room and been ghost before you hit the floor.”
Benny scratched his head. “I don’t get it, then.”
Flask tapped some notes on the interactive screen that emitted from his holoband. “So the hitwoman calls you up, lures you in the alley out back and proceeds to give you a bad case of lead poisoning. Obviously she didn’t know about your built-in healing system, but she definitely meant to kill you.”
“I’m not so sure. The dame was obviously a pro, and a pro wouldn’t make the mistake of leaving before making sure the kill was righteous.”
Flask gave me a skeptical glance. “You saying the assassin knew you would survive that hit? I don’t know, Mick. Sounds like the meds talking.”
“C’mon Flask, you’re embarrassing yourself. You’ve been on the beat long enough to clean up after a few professional hits, right?”
The Troubleshooter: The Most Dangerous Dame Page 11