The Troubleshooter: The Most Dangerous Dame

by Bard Constantine

  “Come and see. See what the bâtard did to one of my girls.”

  “Lead the way.” I took a deep breath and looked at Natasha. Her face was pale, her eyes wide.

  “You stay here with Benny. I guarantee you don’t wanna see this.”

  “She should come.” Esmeralda’s stare was imperious, hinting at something I couldn’t quite interpret. “This is the girl you once brought to me for safekeeping, yes? A woman now, I see. She should come. This is something she needs to see. For her own good.”

  I hesitated, trying to get a bead on Esmeralda’s motives. She gazed back with an expressionless mask.

  I finally shook my head. “Stay here, Natasha. Benny, keep a close eye out.”

  I was instantly familiar with the room. The art deco style of geometrically-designed metallic wallpaper and the dramatic, sweeping polished mahogany furniture created the illusion of a rich Parisian hotel. You’d never guess a revolving procession of lust-filled bodies engaged there in the indulgences of the world’s oldest profession. I’d been in that very room many a time when I was a newborn amnesiac without a care for anyone or anything.

  The body was an indistinct shape shrouded by crimson-spattered linen sheets. The stench of blood and death would have been enough to make me gag if my throat hadn’t been so constricted. I removed my Bogart and placed it over my heart to smother the reverberations that hammered against my chest.

  Esmeralda grimaced as she pulled the sheets back. “She was found like this less than an hour ago. Her body was still slightly warm.”

  My jaw clenched until my teeth ached. “Desiree.”

  Esmeralda’s eyes glistened as she continued to gaze at the corpse.” Yes. You were one of her regulars. Before you…changed.”

  Desiree had the face of a supermodel and the body of a professional dancer. Combine that with the allure of a movie starlet and it equaled a lethal combination of looks and style too much for many a man to resist. Why she worked tricks in a cathouse instead of playing some rich chump over for diamonds and furs was something I never understood. Guess something inside of her died hard along the way, some hard luck forced her onto a detour she never pulled out of.

  None of that mattered anymore.

  Esmeralda studied my reaction. Her eyes widened. “This is not the first. You’ve seen this kind of killing recently.”

  My fists tightened as I reluctantly nodded. “Just the other night. Girl I knew was murdered just like this. The cuts on the face, the slit throat…” I drew a shuddering breath. “Just like this.”

  “So.” Esmeralda’s voice was emotionless, but her eyes accused me all the same. “This is connected to you, then.”

  I roughly swallowed the lump that swelled in my throat. “I’m afraid so, Esmeralda.”

  “A woman killer, then.”

  I glanced at her. “That’s what Natasha said. How do you figure?”

  “It makes sense now. Why she cut Desiree’s face. Her mouth. The killer wanted to disfigure her beauty, slash the mouth that kissed you in passion. This killer was your lover once. Now she sends you a message through the women you’ve had since her.”

  I heard someone groan as though in pain. It took a second to realize the sound came from me. My Bogart slipped from my hands and hit the floor.

  Esmeralda quickly pulled the sheets back over Desiree’s tortured face. I edged backward, unable to take my eyes from the shrouded figure. My legs brushed against the edge of a chair. I fell into it, slumping against the cushions. My hands shook as I withdrew my deck of smokes and placed a gasper between my lips.

  “Here.” Esmeralda strode over with a silver-gilded lighter. I let the smoke smolder in my lungs for a moment while I cradled my head. The faces of Scarlett and Desiree flickered across my vision, bloody smiles on their faces. It was my fault they lay still and lifeless, their last breaths taken in suffering and agony.

  It was my fault.

  A strong hand cupped my chin and tilted it upward. I gazed at Esmeralda’s stern face through a blurry haze. She shook her head.

  “This will not do. You look as if you can barely stand. You must be strong now, Mick. You are not the man I knew not so long ago, when you used to frequent here.”

  “I know, sweetheart.” I gently removed her hand and exhaled a stream of smoke toward the floor. “I got better.”

  “You got weaker.” Her face displayed no sympathy as she placed a gasper in a diamond-encrusted holder and lit it. Her dark eyes glimmered with passion, the insatiable need for the assurance of blood. “The man I knew would already be on the streets looking for the fils de pute that would dare to do this.”

  “I’m not that man anymore, darlin’. I can’t go around killing folks at will. You chase blood long enough and it’s yours that ends up painting the streets.”

  “You cannot change who you are, Mick. You might fool your little girlfriend into thinking you are ready to clean up and settle down, but we both know the truth.” Her eyes bore deeply into mine, her lips parted as she exhaled a hazy cloud. “You’re a killer of bad men. And as long as bad men need killing, you’ll never be able to settle down. Violence is in your nature and you release it on those who have it coming. There is no shame in that.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” I was surprised to admit it out loud. But even though her words rattled me, it was as though the realization lifted an enormous weight from my shoulders.

  “I’ve tried to pretend I could be the good guy, but deep inside I know how the cards are dealt. Decent people can’t survive in this city. There’s something about this place that tears at you, forces you to face who you really are. I’ve always said if you wanna make it in New Haven you gotta be meaner than the streets are. Maybe the truth is I’m just as bad as the scum I’ve put down.”

  “Do not say such things.” Smoke trails followed her dismissive gesture. “You are different from the others because you live by a code, Mick. That is the only reason why I trust you.”

  I didn’t reply. There were no words to be said. There was nothing I could do to bring Scarlett and Desiree back. They were gone, and all I could do was place them with the rest of the ghosts that haunted my sober moments.

  But I damn sure could do something to the person who took their lives.

  I took a last look at the shrouded body as I rose out of the chair. “Why in the hell did you want Natasha to see this?”

  “Because she needs to know.”

  “Know what?”

  “The price of being near you.” Esmeralda’s words burned with undisguised anger. “This is what comes of being in your company, Mick. Death trails you like a shadow and if this girl is to be with you then she must know. Next time it might be her laying there, her dead eyes staring into yours. Is that what you want?”

  “No.” The reply was raw in my throat as I envisioned her words.

  “Then let her go. She needs to live her life away from you. She seems like a nice girl. She deserves a good man.”

  “There are no good men in New Haven.”

  Esmeralda glared. “You know what I mean. Let the girl go, for her sake.”

  I bent and picked up my Bogart. Placed it on my head and tilted the brim over my eyes. “I gotta go, Esmeralda.”

  “Where?”

  “To kill some bad men.”

  “This murderer is no man, Mick.”

  I crushed my gasper in the antique ashtray beside the chair. “Well then I guess I’ll kill her too.”

  Esmeralda smiled.

  “What happened, Mick?”

  Natasha searched my face. I was pretty sure I wore a rather murderous expression, which to be fair was enough to warrant her anxiousness.

  “Let’s go. We’re outta here.” My step never faltered as I strode past Esmeralda’s office. I had to get away from the condemning atmosphere. Every corner seemed to whisper with Desiree’s accusing voice.

  “Mick.” Benny glanced up from viewing his holoband. “Uncle Flacco wants an update. Says to meet him at his
safe house in the Docks.”

  “You know where it’s at?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Ok.” I jerked my head toward the exit.

  “Mick.” Natasha nearly had to jog in order to match my stride. “Why won’t you tell me what happened?”

  “Cause you don’t wanna know what happened, Natasha. Some things are better off left alone, understand?”

  I gratefully pushed open the exit doors and stepped out in the welcoming stench of New Haven gutters and smog. The clamor of traffic, sirens, and the morning bustle helped clear my mind and hone my focus. Things were as bad as I’d seen them get, but I was still walking and still had the Mean Ol’ Broad tucked in her holster under my arm. I’d go with those odds any given day.

  Natasha wasn’t one to give up, I’d say that for her. She placed a hand against my chest to halt my stride.

  “I told you not to treat me like a child, Mick. I think I deserve to know what’s behind that gloomy expression you’re wearing. I can handle it.”

  My heart broke a little when I looked at her. She was a rose in a concrete world, ignorant of the likelihood of being trampled by crowds of indifferent feet. A large part of me wanted to do as her parents tried to: protect her from the cruelties of that world, shield her from its filth and corruption. But the rest of me knew it wouldn’t make a difference in the long run. Sooner or later the world shows you its ugly side, and when it does you’d better be ready to face it.

  “Know what a Glasgow Smile is?”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s when someone takes a razor blade or a knife, puts it in the corner of your mouth–” I traced a line across her face with my finger. “–and slashes. Then they beat you in the face or continue cutting until the muscles contract, causing the cut to spread from ear to ear. Sometimes the victims bleed out enough to die. Those who survive the trauma are left with a permanent scar as a memento.”

  Natasha cringed and took a step back. “Is that what–?”

  “–happened to Desiree? Yeah. That’s what the killer did to her face. Afterward she slit Desiree’s throat, the same as Scarlett’s. That’s what you wanted to know, right? Maybe I should take you back there, like Esmeralda said. You wanna get a close look, see what death looks like? That it?”

  “I’ve seen what death looks like.” Natasha’s voice lowered to a near-whisper, but she never dropped her gaze. “How my parents were slaughtered was even worse. Don’t ever forget that, Mick.”

  I stared at her, shocked by the sting in her words. “I can’t forget that. I’ll never forget that as long as I live.”

  Benny cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt this tender scene and all, but whaddya saying: you’re connected to the girl that was snuffed here?”

  I turned, relieved at the interruption. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Whoever this killer is, she’s toying with me. She wants me to know she can smoke me anytime, but she wants me to suffer first. Well, it’s working. I’m suffering all right, so much I can barely breathe. All I wanna do is shoot someone right now, but I still don’t even have a target.”

  “Maybe you outta take that Sinn fox up on her offer, Mick. ‘Cause it looks like you’re gonna need all the help you can get.”

  I scrubbed a hand across my chin. “Maybe you’re right, Benny. Can’t hurt at this point.” I tapped on my holoband and pulled up the number she gave me. Her face appeared on the screen instantly, alluring even in thumbnail size.

  “I’ve been waiting for your call, Mick.”

  “Is that so? I figured you’d have a thousand other things to occupy your digitally enhanced mind.”

  Her lips curved. “Fortunately I multi-task with ease. What can I help you with?”

  “Surveillance footage of who’s been through here in the last twenty-four hours.”

  “I’m afraid the blackout was professionally done. Your hidden enemy is either jacked into the system or has some highly skilled assistance.”

  “Great news. If that’s the case they can track my every move. If I’m gonna pull this off you have to get me off the grid.”

  “Not a problem, Mick. I can tag your holoband with a cloning signal. Anytime someone tries to lock on to you the signal will produce thousands of duplicate signals, making it impossible to track you. From here on out you’re a ghost in the machine.”

  “Not a bad trick. Thing is, I let you do that and you’ll be able to track me anywhere. How do I know I can trust you?”

  “You don’t understand. I can override your holoband in a second and install spyware you’ll never detect if I wanted to. But I won’t. I want you to be able to trust me, but it’s your choice. Just keep in mind that the alternative is allowing your enemies to continue tracking your every move. You’re a gambler, Mick. Toss the dice.”

  “All right, do it. But don’t think this means I’m working with you, Ms. Sinn. I’m just in your debt, is all.”

  Her smile was sly. “Not to worry. Consider this is an advance on a friendship. Call me when you need me again.”

  The screen winked off. My holoband gave no indication of any changes, but I knew Sinn had already inserted her unique modification. My holoband was tricked out with the best security in the business, but it may as well have been unlocked and undefended when it came to bioroid superiority. I just hoped Sinn would stay true to her word and not hack my entire network, but it didn’t look as if I had a choice in the matter.

  We strode across the parking lot where Maxine waited. Her doors slid open as I approached. Natasha stopped in mid-stride. “Wait. Were there any others?”

  “Other what?”

  She stared at me like I was the stupidest man alive. “Other women, Mick. Were there any more you’ve been–” She blushed.

  “–familiar with? Not really. Desiree was the only working girl I dealt with.” I paused. “And there was Scarlett, of course. Oh, and Ming Li, but that was only one time. She stole my winnings and put me in debt with the Russians before skipping town. And uh, let’s see...there was a singer in that flophouse on the Southside, what was her name…?”

  Natasha’s lip curled. “Do you need a minute to write them all down? Let’s start with the ones you had at least some type of relationship with.” She shook her head. “Geez, maybe Angel was right about you, Mick.”

  I froze. “Angel.” My heart went into overdrive as the realization hit me.

  “What about her?” Natasha’s eyes widened. “No, Mick. Are you saying–?”

  “Get in the ride. She’s the next hit on the list.”

  Chapter 13: A Familiar Face

  “Maxine, call Angel.”

  “Calling.”

  Maxine squealed across the damp streets, weaving in and out of morning traffic. Buildings and shifting crowds became blurs of movement and lights as we roared past. The buzzing sound of the outgoing call seemed unnaturally loud in the silent interior as we held a collective breath.

  “The call went to her voicemail, Mr. Trubble. Would you like to leave a message?”

  “No. Scan the wire for any recent shootings or fatal accidents.”

  “I’ve picked up seventy-six reports of gunfire, twenty-six arsons, two drownings, and seventeen reports of vehicular manslaughter in the last twenty-four hours.”

  I looked at Benny, who shrugged. “Hey, this is New Haven.”

  My teeth ground together. “All right. They were supposed to be on their way to Customs. Maxine, centralize your search to the route they most likely would have taken.”

  “Right away. You have a new call coming through. Do you want to take it?”

  “Put it on screen.”

  The heads up display fizzled on, morphing into an image of a shadowed figure. It was the same silhouette I saw earlier right before she pumped me full of lead. The wide brim of her Bogart still hid her features. It was hard to see her surroundings, but I guessed she was laying dormy in some cheap flophouse.

  “I left you a little present at the brothel. Did you enjo
y it?” The tone was wickedly playful, but just like before her actual voice was electronically garbled, leaving me no clues to tickle my memory.

  I fought to control the rage that clawed at my throat. Purposely keeping my voice casual, I shrugged. “Not my type of gift. Why don’t we arrange a face to face so I can show you what I really enjoy?”

  “Things didn’t go so well for you the last time we were face to face. How does it feel, knowing at any moment I could do the same? This time I wouldn’t count on your healing system to save you. I’m pretty sure it overtaxed itself knitting you back together.”

  “Why the games, sister? You wanna to take me out, just do it. Leave the others out of it.”

  The shadow tilted her head. “Listen to you. Caring about people. Do you realize how inane that sounds? The reports are true, then. You really have changed. What a mind job Dr. Faraday did on you.”

  “I got no complaints.”

  “That’s because you don’t know who you really are. What a blissful quandary for you. Without your memories you can go on pretending to be this charming scoundrel of a man, putting your life on the line to help other people. What would those same people think of you if they knew how many people you’ve tortured and murdered?”

  Her laugh was garbled, but it was clear she got her kicks from my discomfort. I was acutely aware of Benny’s nervous sidelong glance and the stunned silence from the back seat where Natasha sat. I tried to steer the conversation back to safer waters, because it was clear the shadow dame had the drop on me.

  “Listen, Natalie. Why don’t you just cut to the chase and tell me exactly what it is you want.”

  Even in silhouette, I noticed the dame stiffen at the mention of her name. That’s when I knew I had her. The voice scrambler shut down, revealing her natural tone. “So. You think you have it all figured out, do you?”

  “That’s right. You obviously know me from my past. I don’t know much about all that, but I do know I was with the SS, killing folks for the righteous cause of the United Havens. Before he bought the farm, Frankie Newman let me in on the fact I had a history with a downright psycho bitch from hell. And I even saw you for a sec, courtesy of a flashback associated with a concussive blast when I wasted the New Man, Frankie’s killer synoid. So let’s drop the cloak and dagger bunk and get to why you’re going through all this trouble.”