Lunatic City

by T. Allen Diaz

  “I must look as bad as I feel.”

  “What happened!?”

  “I fell down the stairs.” No one seemed to like that joke. “I’d rather not talk about it. Not one of my fondest memories.”

  Allyssa nodded and then smiled at me. “You knocked! I was starting to wonder if you knew how to do that.”

  I grinned. “I believe I last found you in my bed, trying to get shot.”

  “I wasn’t trying—well, I guess that depends on how you mean it.” She gave that temptress smile and let me pass into her lair. Rub the right places with the right parts.

  I didn’t speak until I was in her living room. “There have been some developments in Lenny’s case.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, but the information creates some fresh questions.”

  “Ok,” she said. “Like what?”

  I moved to the French doors and looked at the cityscape beyond. “When was Lenny’s party? The one where she supposedly stole this heirloom?”

  “Last month, maybe the month before.”

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. There went our theory. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the hard copy of Tommy Henson. “What can you tell me about this guy?”

  She took it and studied for several seconds. “You kidding?” She handed it back to me. “He’s one of dozens, sometimes hundreds a day. This is Tycho City, you know.”

  Yeah, I knew. I kept telling myself that Dana was right, that none of this mattered. But, I felt like we were missing something, something important, something we needed to know.

  Allyssa came to me and took my hand. She placed her free hand on my back. I winced. She removed it. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  I nodded.

  “I have something that’ll help you.”

  I glanced at her.

  She wore a broad smile.

  “I should really go.”

  She placed her index finger on my lips. “Ssssshhhhh.”

  The bath was hot and had a medicinal smell to it. She stood and motioned for me to climb in. I should’ve just left. I still loved my wife, a wife who’d given up on our marriage, who was separated by a court order and a small army of street thugs, a wife who’d pushed me out of her life and told me she never wanted to see me again, and a wife who hadn’t slept with me in the last six months. I pulled my shirt off.

  Allyssa gasped. She looked at the bruises covering my body. “How do you walk?”

  “Gingerly.”

  She smiled and helped me with my belt.

  It took some doing to get me in the tub. The water felt great. It seemed to be soaking into my body and removing the pain. “This feels wonderful. What is it?”

  Allyssa took the sponge in her hand and began to rub my shoulders and chest. “Trade secret.”

  “Well,” I said, “it’s a hell of a secret.”

  She smiled and looked at my beaten and bruised body. “Who did this to you?”

  …when we find her, we’re gonna strip her of more than her face!

  “I really don’t wanna talk about it. Okay?”

  She leaned over me and gave a sad smile. “K.” She kissed my nose and just rubbed me with that sponge of hers. I must’ve fallen asleep. When I awoke the water was chilled. Allyssa was nowhere to be seen. It was time to go. I rose from the water and took a towel from the rack.

  I was almost dry.

  “All finished?”

  I looked at Allyssa. “Yeah.”

  She was wearing a red negligée and matching robe that was untied in the front. They weren’t see-through but they were very sexy. “You’re not leaving!”

  I tried to think about Suzanne. I could almost remember what she looked like. “I—I think I should, go. Thank you for the bath. I—”

  She came to me and placed a gentle hand on my face. “You what? Have to go to your lonely old apartment, to leave me here in this lonely old apartment?”

  It did seem an awful lot like that. All I had to do was mention Suzanne. I was sure that would break the spell, hurt her feelings enough to get me out of there. But, her hand felt so good on my face. And…

  She looked at my growing towel and smiled at me.

  I tried to smile back. “I’m really too beat up to do much.”

  She leaned close, grabbed my towel by the knot and whispered: “You forget what I do for a living. I can please a man without him moving a muscle.” She snatched the towel from my waist and did just that.

  *******

  I woke up in her bed. It was soft and inviting, like Allyssa. But, she wasn’t there, anymore. She was donning one of her slinky black dresses. I watched her get ready for a few minutes.

  She noticed me in the mirror of her vanity and glanced over her bare shoulder. “You should get your rest.”

  “I didn’t do anything to wear myself out. You, on the other hand.”

  She smiled and turned back to the mirror. “I’m glad you approve. You have plans?”

  I thought about that. “You know a reporter named Cyndi Travis?”

  Allyssa studied me in the mirror. “She have something to do with Lenny?”

  I regretted bringing up her name. Dammit, can’t think with two heads at once. I’d have to be more careful in the future. “No, but she has some background stuff on the Lunatic slave trade that’s pretty interesting. I’d like to know her source.”

  Allyssa laughed aloud. “You want a reporter to hand you a source? Without a court order? You’re adorable!”

  I didn’t like to be made a fool, but it was better than her thinking I was on to something. She did still work for Katsaros. “Humor me.”

  She glanced back. I wasn’t fooling anyone. “She’s an indie reporter. Does the political beat. Has a real hard-on for Katsaros.”

  “She’s done stuff on him before?”

  She looked back into the mirror. “She hates the LAC, but I’m sure you already know that.”

  The room got cold. “Look, Allyssa, she’s the girl who was following me. I really don’t know what she knows or if she’s involved in all this shit. I do know that she has my stuff, and I’d like to ask her for myself.”

  She didn’t turn around. She just kept applying her makeup. “Be careful what you tell me, Frank. I am one of Katsaros’ whores, right?”

  “Allie,” I said.

  She turned in that chair. “Aren’t I? Isn’t that what you were thinking?”

  I looked away.

  “That’s what I thought.” She stood and stuffed her purse. She was throwing stuff in there as if packing to flee a conquering army that might arrive any moment. “You can stay as long as you like. Please lock up when you’re through.”

  She passed through the door and was gone.

  I lay there alone. Sleep wouldn’t be an option for some time. I frowned.

  *******

  I thought about beating the bushes around the internet media crowd, but I didn’t have any real authority. Even if I had, few people defied authority with more relish than a self-righteous reporter. I couldn’t think of too many faster ways to tell Cyndi Travis I was on to her. No, I had to find another way.

  That wasn’t going to be easy. I remembered Tommy Henson’s blog. It had led me to Cyndi Travis, so maybe there would be more to glean from his posts. But, I couldn’t just sit around and peruse his files. I had to take a more active role in this investigation than research.

  There were leads to be rundown. Lenny Marquez was getting short on time. I needed the rest of those pieces, and I needed them now. It was aggravating to know how close I was, while still being so far away. I needed to find Travis.

  I knew that if I could find Travis, I’d find Lenny. But Travis would be a tough nut. She lived to be a ghost. No one person was going to find her, even with an army to canvass The Upper and Low
er Cities, which I didn’t have. I would have to rely on the cardinal rule of investigating conspiracies: a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. I knew the weakest link.

  I followed BB from ManaTech to the same train station where I’d almost been arrested by the transit cop. I had been tailing her for the better part of three days and was trying to keep the lowest possible profile. My attire was more upscale than my typical wardrobe: chocolate brown suit, white shirt, long beige coat and hat. I kept her in my peripheral vision. I didn’t dare run the risk of eye contact.

  I saw her look my way. I saw her look a lot of different ways. There was a nervousness to her movements that made me wonder. The rail cars whooshed into place and she climbed aboard. I followed her and found a spot in the back. I was able to wedge myself into a corner.

  I couldn’t see her from where I was seated, but that meant she couldn’t see me either. It wasn’t like she could get off the train with it screaming down the rail, so I was good. We passed the Marvis and Borrington stops, just like the last two days. I glimpsed movement as the train approached Pennington. She was right on schedule.

  I stood and found a big fella I could use as a screen. He didn’t seem to have much use for soap and water. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, but I’d endured far worse. The brakes squealed and the train slowed to a stop. I bobbed forward, same as the rest of the crowd. BB stepped off the front door on the right side. I was close enough to the back door to slip out that way.

  I stepped onto the loading platform and moved toward the back of the train. I didn’t even risk a glance in her direction. This is where team surveillance really pays off: it’s hard to keep track of your target when you’re busy avoiding detection.

  I could afford to be a little casual. I’d done this twice in the last two days. I had reason to believe I knew where she was going.

  I paused at a pole and my heart raced. She was gone! I kept my movements muted and subtle. I scanned the platform, the steps, the street below, and there she was. Her speed couldn’t be called a sprint, but she was pushing past a lot of slower traffic. I was going to have to pick up the pace if I was going to keep up. But, almost two decades on The Floor said to be patient.

  He was on the short side, well under two meters. He was slight and wore a hat. I couldn’t see too much about him. He was descending stairs to my left. I scanned the steps to my right and moved that way. I tried to keep my pace lively, but I had to give ground, for now. If this guy had a partner or spotters, I’d be made and that could be a problem.

  I had my doubts. Nothing about this guy’s demeanor rang professional. Still, I had to be prudent. I picked him back up two blocks away. His head was weaving and bobbing, seeking a peek through the pedestrian traffic. He was about as subtle as a nine-point-five magnitude earthquake.

  No, he wasn’t a pro. I hung back and let him lead. I didn’t want to, but it was the best I could do without a partner. I was sure that he had lost her. His head kept craning; his body would lean one way, then all the way back another. Passing pedestrians would look at him like he’d grown an extra head and keep walking.

  I was getting a little irritated. I wanted to bolt past this loser. I knew where BB’s apartment was. I’d been there twice in the last three days. But I couldn’t assume she’d go there, which was why I’d followed her from work in the first place. And, I couldn’t push past this rocket scientist without running a real risk of being detected.

  We kept a slow, excruciating pace toward her apartment building, The Hill. It wasn’t named after topography. It was in homage to the founding family and owners. Rocket Man walked into the lobby. I strode by but didn’t look. I didn’t want to make the same mistake Cyndi Travis had at ManaTech.

  He was gone by the time I’d walked around to the far side of the building. I turned and stepped into the nearest stairwell. I paused and took off my shoes. I missed my bag. I also missed Jupiter. He was stuffed into the locker on the third level of The Lower City. I figured I might soon have cause to need him. I frowned.

  The climb was slow as I had to avoid noise. I didn’t want to tramp into anther rude surprise. I’d had enough of them on this case, thank you very much.

  BB was on twelve. It wasn’t thirty-one, but it was a far cry from the second floor, too. I crept to the door and up a landing. I sat and listened to the sound of my breathing and the galloping in my chest. I opened the stairway door with as little noise and speed as I could manage.

  There was no one in the hallway. I slipped into my shoes and stepped inside. I strode past BB’s apartment. There was no sound. I could hear no movement inside. I looked around. No one. I wanted to lean into the door, but didn’t dare. If the amateur was watching somewhere, I’d spook him. I couldn’t afford to show the slightest interest in her place.

  I walked past her door, past the elevator lobby, and to the stairwell on the far end of the floor. It was empty. He wasn’t there. That only left one place for him to be. I didn’t like it.

  I couldn’t imagine that moron being dangerous, but still, BB was my only link to Tommy. Tommy was my only link to Cyndi. And, Cyndi was my only link to Lenny. Had I had my bag, I’d have finessed her door. But, I was tool-less and didn’t think that kicking in the door was a good plan of action.

  I moved back to the original stairwell. It offered the best view of her door, and waited. Ten minutes turned into fifteen, fifteen to thirty. I couldn’t skulk around in the stairwell the whole time. I went down to the lobby and set up in the café. The coffee was terrible, watered down and flavored with vanilla. I’d have dumped the whole thing out if I hadn’t needed caffeine so badly.

  I pulled Tommy’s blog up on my pReC and reviewed it for the three-hundredth time in the last two and a half days. There was nothing there, no videos, no sordid details of the dark side of wealth and privilege, no exposé on the secret life of an imperial minister. Cyndi had been silent as well. That voice nagged me again, the one that said we were missing something, something critical.

  Dana was right: we needed more pieces of the puzzle. I got up and walked across the street. There was another café there. I looked at my watch and sighed. It was after ten. I sat down and ordered a coffee, black. It made me crave the swill from the first place, but an hour and a half was about all I wanted to spend in one spot.

  I was trying not to doze when a man stepped out of the elevator. I almost didn’t recognize him. I might not have, had he not used the exit closest to me. He wasn’t as bronze as I remembered. He looked pale and haggard. His hat was gone and his sandy hair disheveled. His tie hung open around his neck and his shirt was only half tucked.

  A smile spread across my face: Mr. Henson, I presume.

  CHAPTER XIV

  Henson walked a straight line to the train station where we’d almost lost contact with BB. He looked around every so often, but I think it was more to take in the sights than any concern that he might be followed. The place wasn’t as busy as it had been during our previous pass, and that was a problem. I didn’t want to spend twenty minutes sitting ten feet from him on and all but empty train platform.

  He walked into the restroom. I hovered in the hallway outside and waited for the sound of the flushing toilet. I gave a ten count; I was willing to bet he’d washed and started walking. I didn’t time it quite right. He opened the door just as I was reaching for the handle.

  His eyes met mine, and I realized something that should have occurred to me days ago: Henson was a stranger to me, but he’d seen me the day he zapped me on the roof of The Bartholomew. He leaned into the door and drove it into me.

  I was able to grab it and leaned back just enough to keep my swollen face from getting split into two pieces. The move put me on my heels, and I toppled backwards through the lunar gravity. It was all Henson needed. He was four meters away and galloping.

  I cursed my stupidity and bounded after him. I reached the platform and just caught a g
limpse of him bolting down the stairs. I followed at top speed. I was always the brawn. Foot chases weren’t my specialty, but there was no one else to tag in, so I rainbow jumped down the stairs.

  He was already at the bottom and bounding down the street. I tried to get cute and almost broke my ankle. I went into a time consuming roll across the ground and was reminded about the days-old bruises still healing. I was up and pursuing in something resembling one fluid motion, but I had lost ground.

  Henson made a left turn and disappeared around the corner ahead of me. I got there just in time to catch a glimpse of him. He’d crossed the street and was hanging a right. I followed. He was farther away from me now. Almost two blocks. I tried to put it in another gear and the distance seemed to stabilize. I might have even been gaining a step or two.

  He made the next corner, and I felt my heart sink. I reached it seconds later and scanned the street. There was no sign of him. I sprinted to the next block. I glanced into the storefronts and windows for some indication he’d ducked in there, but there was nothing. He could be on the second or third floor of one of those buildings by now. I reached the next cross street, but he wasn’t there, either.

  He could have gone anywhere: halfway back to the train station, six floors up looking down at me, traveling north, south, east, west or anything in between. I bent over and put my hands on my knees. I stood and put them on my hips. He was no pro. What the hell did that make me?

  *******

  I rang BB’s doorbell, but she’d chosen to take an early morning stroll. Maybe she was headed out to meet Henson. Maybe he’d tipped her off, and she didn’t want to be here when I got back. I considered breaking in, but I had to be on seventy-five cameras…

  I almost did a victory dance right there in the hallway. There was still hope. I strode to the elevator and keyed my pReC. BB couldn’t help me anymore, anyway.

  “It’s two in the morning, Frank.”

  “I know, sorry. I really messed up today. My friend Dana Cooper might be able to give me a Mulligan on this one.”

  “If you mean Detective Dana Cooper of the Tycho City Police Department, she has an oath to uphold, and abusing her authority to assist a private investigator without the approval of the police chief or his designee, to say nothing of a judicial writ, seems to run counter to that oath.”