Our Honored Dead (Stephanie Chalice Thrillers Book 4)

by Lawrence Kelter

“Again? How long has that been going on?” Charles asked.

  “Couple of weeks, maybe longer. I’ve been catching up on my sleep,” the security guard said.

  No shit.

  Charles shook his head in amazement and then filled in our names on the sign-in sheet. “I’m going to give these folks a tour. Lights and power on?”

  “All the time, boss,” the guard said. He opened a copy of the New York Post and began to read the sports section.

  “What kind of staff do you have here today?” Charles asked.

  “Just some folks in the control room up here. There’s no one down in the pump station,” the guard replied. I noticed the patch on the guard’s jacket—it had an embroidered lighthouse with the name Beacon Security stitched above it. The city employed several independent companies to keep costs in check. My assumption was that Beacon was just one of the city’s vendors.

  Charles led us to a locker room. He looked at me. “Your jacket won’t be warm enough.” He handed us coats and protective helmets. “Put these on,” he said. “It’s cold and damp below. You won’t like it very much.”

  Charles guided us to the elevator, and we descended into the pumping station. Charles wasn’t kidding about not liking the environment. “Jesus, it’s like the Himalayas down here.” For a moment, I recalled how warm and toasty it was back at the precinct. You’re such a dope, Stephanie. Volunteering for work. That’ll teach you.

  “I told you it wasn’t pleasant,” Charles said.

  Gus zipped his jacket up to his neck. “Give us the ground rules,” he said. “I’m too cold to stand still.”

  “Just watch your step,” Charles said. “There’s no telling where ice will form. And don’t touch anything you think may be frozen. Your skin will instantly bond with the metal pipes. This station was built in the late sixties—safety standards were not as stringent back then as they are today. Use your heads.”

  There was no question that a body could be frozen down here. Judging by the upstairs guard’s alert nature, I had no doubt that someone could slip a body in and out as well. The place was a ghost town because of the strike. Charles was a sharp guy, but my guess was that he didn’t stop by very often.

  The pumping station was astoundingly large. It had been blasted out of Manhattan bedrock, and the walls were pure stone. Water oozed from cracks in the bedrock in several locations. Some of the water was frozen. It was a little unnerving to think that the raging waters of the Hudson were just on the other side of the bedrock. The pipes running into the electric pumps were massive. “Might as well get cracking.” As I said, the place was vast. I didn’t know how much ground we could cover on our own. The size of the job warranted a full team of investigators. It was hard to fathom that places like this existed, but then I thought about how my last case led me to an old, forgotten railroad tunnel. There was another city beneath Manhattan, an entire network of tunnels and storerooms that time had long forgotten.

  We spread out and began to look around. The pumping station was damp and brutally cold. I felt my teeth chattering as I searched for clues. I heard Gus shriek. I turned my head to see his legs fly out from beneath him. He was sitting on his butt, wincing in pain. I raced over to him, careful not to do the same. “You okay?” I called out. Gus was wearing his brave face and nodding so that I wouldn’t worry. It was just about then that something crunched beneath my shoe. It wasn’t a big clue, but it was obvious. It certainly wasn’t something that belonged on the floor of a pumping station. I had crushed a small hypodermic syringe with my heel. It was on the ground near one of the mammoth water-delivery pipes. Gus was already up on his feet, so I knelt down to examine the syringe. As I did, something else caught my eye. A tuft of hair and a small section of skin were frozen to the huge, iron water pipe.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You poor thing, you fell down and broke your butt.”

  Gus bravely tried to smile through the pain, but I could see that he was really hurting as we walked back to our car. We left Charles at the pumping station, where he awaited the arrival of the crime scene investigators. “It’s embarrassing,” he said.

  “What’s there to be embarrassed about? Do you really think that you’re first cop to fall on his keister in the line of duty? Just think about all of the sympathy sex I’m going to give you.” I became concerned when Gus didn’t reply to my comment. “I said sympathy sex—did you hear me?” Gus took a step and winced. “Do you want to see a doctor?”

  “I’ll be all right. I just need a hot bath and a bottle of scotch.”

  “How about a deep-tissue massage performed by yours truly?”

  “It all sounds good. I just need to lie down for a while.”

  I helped Gus into the car. I got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “I’ll have you home in a jiffy. I’ll draw you a bath and get you doped up on Vicodin and whiskey. How’s that sound?”

  “It sounds like a dream.” I watched as Gus squirmed in his seat and tried to get comfortable.

  “Want me to whip out my boobs or something?”

  “Now?”

  “You look like you could use a distraction.”

  Gus closed his eyes and put his head back against the headrest. “Not that I don’t appreciate a good striptease every now and again, but how about you just drug me and put me to bed.”

  “Sure, no problem . . . Ingrate,” I said, teasing him. “You know there are lots of guys that would get pretty excited over an offer like that.”

  “Baby, I’m dying here.”

  He wasn’t responding to my charm, which meant that he was really in pain. I pressed the gas pedal and raced uptown. We were crossing 23rd Street when my cell phone rang. The caller ID read: Sonellio.

  “Boss, is that you?”

  Gus heard the excitement in my voice. It brought him around faster than a jolting whiff of smelling salts. “Nick’s on the phone? Really? How is he?”

  “Yes, yes, Stephanie, it’s the old man. How are you?” Sonellio said.

  “Happy, I’m so happy to hear your voice. Are you still up in Maine?”

  “I’m home, Stephanie. I’m back in Staten Island.”

  “Really?” I didn’t know whether his reply meant something good or bad. I’d been worried about his health for a long time now, and it overshadowed my exuberance. “Oh my God, we miss you so much. I’m here with Gus.”

  “Hi, boss,” Gus shouted. He had so much adrenaline pumping through his veins that he had momentarily forgotten about his bruised butt. “We miss you, boss.”

  “I’m not the boss anymore,” Sonellio said. “I’m just an old friend.”

  “You’ll always be The Boss,” Gus said aloud.

  I smiled at Gus. Our feelings for Sonellio were so strong. Everything else felt unimportant in comparison. “So when are we going to see you?”

  “Right away, if you can swing it. Any chance I can bribe the two of you into coming out for breakfast tomorrow?”

  I whispered to Gus, “We don’t have to be at the medical examiner’s office until noon. We can run out to see him early in the morning. Okay?” Gus nodded happily. “Your place, boss?”

  “Yeah. That okay?”

  “I’d hijack the space shuttle if that’s what it took.” Sonellio laughed. It made me feel good to hear him chuckle, but then he coughed and a wave of melancholy washed over me. It was the same sickly cough I had heard from him increasingly just before he retired. “Eight o’clock good for you?”

  “I’m up early,” Sonellio said. “I’ll put the coffee on, and it will be ready whenever you get here. I can’t wait to see you, Stephanie. I miss you.” There was sadness and finality in his last sentence. “Gus too.”

  “See you in the morning, boss. Give our love to Toni.” I hung up and turned to Gus. I didn’t know whether to smile or cry.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Toni Sonellio waved to us from the porch as we pulled up in front of her house. She pulled her sweater tight and hurried down the s
tairs to greet us. She threw her arms around me the moment I got out of the car.

  “Oh my God, Stephanie, it’s so good to see you.” Toni took a step back to look me over. “You look great.” She shrugged. “Where’s the belly?”

  My baby bump was beginning to look pretty obvious—Toni’s comment was meant to flatter. I unbuttoned my jacket. “Voila!”

  She ran her hand over my belly. “Oh . . . there it is. How far along are you?”

  “Four and a half months.”

  “I can’t believe how good you look. Did you put on any weight?”

  “A ton,” I said in an exaggerated manner.

  “Well, you don’t look it. Is the baby kicking yet?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t wait.” I directed my next comment toward the baby. “Would you do something already—mommy’s getting antsy.”

  Gus got out of the car from the passenger side. He was still sore from his slip-and-fall. He hobbled over to us and hugged Toni.

  “What happened to you?” Toni asked.

  “It’s all the sex—I can’t keep up with her,” he said.

  Toni rolled her eyes. “Yeah, go on. No seriously, what happened?”

  “Gus fell down and broke his butt—it was job related. How’s the boss?”

  Toni’s head swayed back and forth. Her lips curled downward and her shoulders rose. “We’re coming down the home stretch.” She was quiet for a moment. “He’ll be so happy to see you.”

  “What’s been happening?” Gus asked.

  Toni’s eyes turned lifeless. “He’s been fighting cancer for almost a year now, but . . . the treatments aren’t helping anymore. We were up in Maine. He was fishing and I . . . okay, I was completely bored. All that fresh air seemed to be doing him good, and I was happy to knit and clean fish. You understand . . . but he’s having trouble breathing, and the doctors don’t know what else to do for him. We decided to come home, so that he could be around family and friends.”

  My throat tightened and then my arms were around Toni again. We both began to cry. “Get it out of your system before you go inside,” she said. “The tears are tougher for him to swallow than the cancer.”

  I understood her completely. I had seen Sonellio deteriorate before my eyes, but he never complained and he never spoke about it. Sonellio had always been a rock. Men like him didn’t respond to pity. Gus and I both knew what to expect—we had decided in advance to keep things upbeat. The grim reaper may have been close by, but there would be no talk of death today. Today, as always, Nick Sonellio was The Boss.

  Toni and I dried our eyes. She inspected my face. “Waterproof makeup? You were always so smart.” Gus looked like hell. The gravity of the situation was so intense that he seemed unable to lift his head. Toni lifted Gus’ chin with her hand. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Gus,” Toni said. “Can you put on a happy face?” He nodded. It was sort of a hem-and-haw nod. I don’t think he was convinced he could pull it off. Gus wore his emotions on his sleeve. “Gus, are we good?” Toni asked with concern.

  He took a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

  Toni put her arms around our waists and walked us into the house.

  “Are they here?” I saw Sonellio at the top of the stairs. He smiled boldly and raced down the stairs in a manner which was meant to convey the impression that he was robust and healthy, but all the showmanship did not impress me. He looked like a sick man laboring to appear healthy. I tried, I really did, but a few tears escaped before I was able to sure up my armor.

  “Tears? What’s this?”

  “I’m just so happy to see you.”

  “What the hell? I’m off the job six months and everyone falls apart? Pull yourself together, for God’s sake.” Sonellio gave me a kiss on the forehead just like my father used to. I don’t know how I kept from going to pieces, but somehow I managed to hold myself together. Sonellio turned to Gus and noticed that he was limping as he walked toward him. “What the hell happened to you? You used to be a young buck.”

  “I took a bad fall,” Gus said as he embraced Sonellio.

  “Jesus, you look like hell, Gus. Isn’t Stephanie taking care of you?”

  “Trust me, she takes good care of me.”

  “Well then hell, let’s eat breakfast.” Sonellio clasped and wrung his hands. “I’m starving.”

  We began to walk toward the kitchen. I saw Toni prodding Sonellio with her elbow. “Oh yeah,” Sonellio said. “Let me get a good look at you.” I turned sideways so that the profile of my belly was noticeable. “You’re pregnant? When did this happen . . . yesterday? You’re as thin as a rail. Are you sure you’re pregnant?”

  “Yes, boss, I’m plenty pregnant.”

  “You’d better start eating. You want to give birth to a noodle or something?” Sonellio chuckled, and it brought some color to his cheeks. “Toni’s been preparing all morning—we’ll fatten you up.”

  We had picked up a small gift for the boss. I handed it to him in one of those fancy bags that everyone uses nowadays because we’re all too busy or too lazy to use wrapping paper.

  “The hell is this?” Sonellio protested.

  “Just a little welcome-home present,” Gus said.

  “For Christ’s sake, you gave me a watch for my retirement, the one without the numbers on it.”

  “The Movado?”

  “Yeah, the Movado. I got it locked up in the safe deposit box.”

  “Why don’t you use it?”

  “A fancy watch like that? To go fishing?” He gave me a playful slap on the cheek. “Sciocchezza.” It was the Italian word for silly. “What’s in the bag, a polo mallet?”

  “Something more practical,” Gus said. “Take a look.”

  Sonellio reached into the bag and pulled out a bundled stack of DVDs. “Star Trek?”

  “Every movie ever made,” I said proudly.

  “Wrath of Kahn?” Sonellio asked.

  “It’s in there,” Gus said.

  “He loves that movie,” Toni said.

  “I know. He used to walk around the precinct imitating Kahn, ‘From hell’s heart I stab at thee.’”

  “How do you know I wasn’t reciting Moby Dick?”

  “Moby Dick? For real? You sounded just like Ricardo Montalban.”

  Sonellio cackled. “Christ, you really are a good detective. I’ll put these to good use. Thanks. Goddamn it, let’s eat!”

  The house was filled with the aroma of sizzling bacon. Toni had set the table with a pretty tablecloth and matching linen napkins.

  “Bacon, eggs, and muffins? You really know how to treat a girl.”

  “Your mother would kick my ass if she heard that I didn’t serve her daughter a good hot meal,” Toni said. “Sit.”

  We took off our jackets and settled around the table. Gus was still squirming and trying to get comfortable. “You look like you’ve got ants in your pants, Gus,” Sonellio said. “Have you seen a doctor?”

  “No. I took a hot bath last night, and Stephanie got me loaded up on painkillers.”

  “You’re walking like a duck,” Sonellio said. “How about a shot of Sambuca?”

  “At eight o’clock?”

  “Sure, it’ll take the edge off,” Sonellio replied.

  Gus was silent for a moment. It looked as if he were weighing his options. “Okay, what the hell,” he replied. “The pregmeister’s driving.”

  I was a little surprised that Sonellio had offered Gus a drink, and even more surprised that Gus accepted. Gus was obviously in a lot of pain. The fact that the offer had come from the boss made it okay. Sonellio was a highly moral person and a by-the-book cop. If he didn’t have a problem with it . . .

  Sonellio retrieved a bottle of Sambuca from the kitchen counter and poured a shot into Gus’ juice glass. Sonellio partially covered his mouth and in an exaggerated loud voice said, “How long has he been twitching like this? If the hooch doesn’t calm him down, I may have to shoot him.”

  Gus laughed and then winced
. “What do you want from me? It hurts.”

  I stroked Gus’ cheek. “You know what’s good for that?”

  “What?”

  “Kegels.”

  Toni laughed so hard that coffee sprayed out of her mouth. She recovered a moment later. “Same old Chalice,” she said. She dished out the food, and we all got busy eating breakfast.

  Gus winced as he reached for a biscuit on the other side of the table. I grabbed one for him and picked up a butter knife. “Easy there, big fella.” I turned to Toni. “Men, they just love to butter the muffin.” I winked at her, and she lost another ounce of coffee.

  “Jesus, Stephanie, would you cut it out before I choke?” She turned to Gus. “You’re a lucky man.”

  “I know,” he said. “Everyone tells me. So, boss, how was the fishing?”

  “Unbelievable, Gus. I caught bass the size of compact cars. You’d love it.”

  “He’s not kidding,” Toni said. She looked at me. “Stephanie, pray Gus doesn’t become a fisherman. Do you have any idea what it’s like to clean a twenty-pound fish? Do you know how stinky and smelly a job that is? Forget about getting the smell off your hands, Madonna. Pray, Stephanie, pray. Tell him you’ll withhold sex—whatever it takes.”

  “So what’s it going to be, Gus, bouillabaisse or me?” I gave him a smart-aleck grin.

  “I can clean my own fish, thank you very much.” Gus’ expression said, take that!

  Sonellio reached over and slapped Gus on the shoulder. “Atta boy,” he said. “Show her you’ve got some stones.” He laughed. “God I miss you guys.”

  We went into Sonellio’s yard after breakfast. “Take a look over here,” Sonellio said. “I want to show you something.”

  We followed him over to a storage shed in the corner of the yard. The two sliding doors had been sealed with paper-packaging tape, but the tape had been torn. It looked like it had been sprayed purple. Now, a layperson may not have known what that meant, but any cop worth his salt would pick up on that in a second. “You fingerprinted your shed?”

  “I taped the doors before I left for Maine, knowing I’d be away for a while. I didn’t want mice getting in and eating my lounge cushions.