"Just asking. I figure he must've said something to you or I don't know him as well as I think I do."
They were approaching the entry to the building. Brian didn't want to go into detail at the moment. "He just asked a bit about me. Who I was and such while he waited for the Nosferatu to wake up." Brian remembered the look in the freelancer's eyes saying much more than his words. "I'm pretty sure he knows about the interview. Or at least suspects. I wish you'd told him about it already so he doesn't think we're tricking him."
"What did he say?"
Brian found his eyes rolling. He didn't want to try to explain. Gut feelings, in his experience, were usually non-transferable. "He didn't say anything specifically beyond telling me that I had better stay out of his way, you know? Haven't you ever had a feeling?"
"Some," Felix said. They passed through the front doors. "But that's a standard greeting for Diomedes. I wouldn't read too much into it."
Brian scowled as they stopped at the security checkpoint inside the entrance. It had to be obvious to the freelancer that Brian had his own reasons for helping. Diomedes had to be suspicious of what was in it for Brian. Brian certainly would be, were the situation reversed.
But there was little point in trying to explain that now as he stood waiting, his body being scanned for dangerous cybernetics with every bit of information no doubt being recorded by CPMC above. He checked his taser, signed in, and then moved past the checkpoint to wait for Felix.
"So you'll wait for me back here?" Brian asked him when he came through.
Felix nodded. "Yeah, or in the floater. It shouldn't take you more than twenty or thirty minutes to get your request processed."
"I have done this before, you know."
In an effort to put some of the info he had on possible cybernetics used in the alleged attacks to good use, they had decided to request a list of installs for the past year. The information was public domain, but because of CPMC regulations it had to be gotten through face-to-face request. Brian had his doubts about how useful it would be to them. The list was primarily assembled from legal, legitimate installs, and the wacko they were looking for was likely to have at least some black market tech in him. The only time black-tech was on the list was if the buyer was already busted or the installer was caught, and very few kept records. It was still worth checking out, of course, and it was more comfortable than sitting in a dark alley.
"So what're you doing while I'm getting the list?" Brian asked, eyeing the elevators across the sparsely populated lobby.
Felix removed his shades and looked around, giving the appearance of thought. "I'm not sure yet. Maybe look for some donuts. I haven't eaten much today." The man grinned.
"Ah. Not going to tell me."
Felix chuckled. "I'd tell you if I knew myself! I'm going to poke around a bit, see what turns up. Get going. I'll meet you back here when you're done and let you know what I've got."
Brian shrugged, realizing he didn't have much to say to that. He wished Felix luck and turned for the elevators.
Tall buildings had always impressed Romulus. He stared from inside the floater up at the blinking lights atop the Justice Tower and wondered why that might be. For most of his life, he had usually only seen them in pictures, and on the few occasions he'd been to a large city and seen them up close they filled him with such awe. They were so much bigger than what he was used to; surely that was part of it. Maybe it was just the inconceivability of how such a thing could be built and what it must take to construct and fill such a behemoth.
More often than not, though, it wasn't the base or the sides he'd stare at, but the top. Who or what was up there? Why? How had they earned the marvel of engineering beneath them? Romulus tried to imagine what it would be like to earn such a high place himself. Was that desire born of his fascination, or vice-versa?
Suddenly feeling juvenile for staring up at a building, he leaned back in his seat to watch Felix and his reporter friend climb the steps to the tower. He didn't quite know what to think of Brian yet. So far, he wasn't sure he liked him.
"Diomedes, what do you think of Brian?"
"He's nothing," was the delayed reply. "He won't get in the way if he knows what's good for him."
Romulus was surprised to find his mentor sounding less suspicious than he was himself. "How do you know?"
Diomedes watched Felix and Brian disappear into the tower and then turned to look at him. "You can tell a lot about someone by how they respond to threats."
Before Romulus could ask what Diomedes had said to the reporter, his mentor sat back and spoke again. "We're not waiting long for them. Too many cops here."
Unsure of how to respond, Romulus sat back himself.
Would Brian be able to help them? Their first lead had so far turned up very little. Diomedes and Brian had gotten nothing more from the Nosferatu. Though Romulus was sure that some measure of force was used in the questioning, Diomedes wasn't terribly descriptive about what they had asked, and Brian seemed unwilling to say much either. It was a fact for which he was sorry but a fact that he also supposed couldn't be helped. If Diomedes had taught him one thing it was that verbal persuasion, could only take you so far. Beyond that, you had to back it up with force or it was all a bluff.
Diomedes hadn't killed the Nosferatu, Romulus reminded himself. It was foolish for Felix to think he would have, really. The cultist didn't look terribly well when Brian had brought him out, but then he didn't look terribly well to start with either. Who knows how bad of a condition he was in before he jumped Diomedes?
So about all they had discovered was that in all likelihood the man they were looking for wasn't a Nosferatu. Unless he was a Nosferatu gone rogue, though somehow that didn't seem to make much sense. They did have the few leads about the arsons though, and maybe that would lead somewhere. They knew the fires were probably intentional. Maybe Felix's contact at the fire department would know a little more about that—especially the reason for picking their apartment in particular. He decided he'd have to tell Felix to check again when he returned, though it was getting late.
"Diomedes, where are we going to sleep?" he asked.
"In here. Easy to defend."
Romulus nodded to his mentor, though he didn't particularly relish the idea. Their apartment was far from perfect, but at least it was a building. What reason there could be for burning it? It was old and worthless. It probably would have fallen apart by itself anyway.
Insurance? He scowled. Why would a psycho vigilante care about insurance? Was there someone inside? Though that still didn't explain the warehouses. It occurred to him that he was trying to second-guess the thoughts of a probable madman. All Romulus knew was that he wanted to stop him before he did more damage, before he destroyed anyone else's home. But how the hell were they supposed to find him?
Questions weighed upon his thoughts, yet all he could do now was sit and wait.
Felix had never been satisfied with his level of penetration into the city's police force. While there were a handful of beat cops with whom he was on a first name basis—and only some of those amicably so—he had yet to establish a positive relationship with anyone in a substantial position of knowledge. He knew the names of a few detectives who had nothing against bribery, of course, but he preferred to keep his costs to a minimum. Besides, those detectives weren't likely to put out any extra effort to discover anything for him that they didn't already know, even in the event that they had the necessary resources. Any effort at developing anything more had, so far, always been doomed to fail.
Felix blamed this on some manner of witch's curse. He didn't believe it for a moment, but it made him chuckle, so there was, at least, that.
If he did have a good friend on the force, he wondered just how much attention they would have given to someone with the vigilante's M.O. As far as popular rumor went, he'd kept his victims to gangers and the like. No upstanding, "tax-paying" citizens. Public opinion of the Northgate Police Department was low enough
without them standing up for what most considered street scum.
On the other hand, if the police did know anything, Felix thought he might still know someone who might be of a mind to help him.
If she was in a good mood.
And if the stars were aligned just right.
Northgate Police Department's Captain Abigail Brittan was heavily rooted in forensics, but that was only part of the reason for Felix going to see her. He also knew the secret of the group for whom she really worked, and they, in turn, knew him.
He sat and waited where he was asked, deciding that the middle of the Municipal Justice Building wasn't the prime place to try anything more amusing. He considered himself lucky both that she was working this late and that she hadn't sent word for him to be escorted out when she was notified of his request to see her. How long she would make him wait was another matter.
As it turned out, it was only fifteen minutes. Abigail Brittan was a tall woman with a face that was normally stern and somber, and it was beginning to show the stress of her career despite her relative youth. Her hair, cropped and mostly brown, showed a hint of grey at the roots. She did not greet him with a smile.
"Mr. Hiatt," she said in a tone that was forcibly formal. "I'm told you wish to see me. Keep it short." Brittan motioned to a chair.
"Thanks for seeing me, Abigail." Felix began to close the door.
"Captain Brittan, please," she corrected. "And leave the door open." Felix felt that curse reaching for him again. "What sort of information is it you need this time?"
He chuckled. "Am I that predictable?"
"Quite frankly, yes. You have been asking for privileged information on the few occasions we've met."
"Unprivileged information's so dull. And it is a favor I am perfectly willing to return, you know."
"I doubt you could tell me anything I couldn't find out through my own sources. I've never consented to give you anything, Mr. Hiatt. One wonders why you keep asking."
Felix shrugged. "Call me a squeaky wheel. One wonders why you keep agreeing to see me."
The captain paused for just long enough to glance behind Felix at the open office door. "Because I know you're a friend of the AoA," she replied, mentioning the name of her true allegiance, "and I think, one rare day, you may have something to say that's worth listening to. But I'm sure you know that. Now, you've already taken a minute of my time. Why don't you tell me what you need so I can tell you no and we can get this visit over quickly."
Brittan had never been terribly friendly to him, but tonight she seemed even shorter than usual. He opted for the direct approach.
"I'm looking for the vigilante who's rumored to be out there. Some have dubbed him 'Wraith'."
She nodded. "The alleged gang-slayer. I've heard of him."
"At the risk of being blunt, can you tell me what you know?"
"No."
"So there's no formal investigation?"
"You seem to be under the impression that we've got the resources to track down every single inter-ganger crime. Things are spread thin enough just trying to protect the law-abiding, to say nothing of trying to keep the gangs from clashing."
"So there's no investigation. The police haven't discovered anything."
"I didn't say that," Brittan said. "They may or may not have, but it's not a matter to be discussed with the public at this time."
"Not with anyone?"
"That's the current policy, yes."
"And is it a matter to be discussed with," Felix paused to consider how to best hint at her secret loyalties, "other non-police groups?"
"I don't see what that has to do with it."
Felix lowered his voice. "I just don't see how you can be willing to violate policy in one way and not another."
Captain Brittan leaned forward over her desk. Felix noticed her hand moving to cover the Palladium symbol on her watch as she did so and wondered if it was intentional. Her eyes locked onto his. "That's hardly the same thing."
"It used to be," he said. Come on, I was one of you, once.
"Yes. And just why did you leave the AoA, Felix Hiatt?"
"I had my reasons."
"It seems we both are withholding information, then."
"Yes, but I want the information I asked for. I doubt you care one way or the other about what you asked."
"No argument there. Now perhaps you'd care to leave?"
"You're not going to tell me a thing."
"I'm sorry." It was more polite than sincere.
"Not even to help stop an arsonist who's blown up a tenement?"
She cocked her head, eyebrows raised. "Where did you hear this?"
"I have my sources."
"Are they accurate?"
Felix sighed. In the long run it did not pay to lie to this woman. "Jury's still out on that. If it's true and you give me information to help, you have my word that I'll tell you what I turn up." Felix watched her glance at the open door again. It was an uncomfortable silence. "Please, Captain. We both know policy isn't a thing you take completely seriously." Felix winced internally, knowing even as he said the words that she wouldn't take them well.
The captain bristled. Any trace of listening in her expression vanished. "On the contrary, Mr. Hiatt, I take it very seriously. Your time is up. I have nothing more to say."
Felix stood and wondered if he could maintain his balance with a foot in his mouth. "I'm sorry," he said and left it at that, opting for a quick retreat from the office.
Romulus stood by a public Web link across the street from the Justice Tower feeling conspicuous. After Diomedes had left, he'd spent the first five minutes on the link searching idly through the news sites for anything of interest about the arsons or the man they were looking for. When his time ran out he had found next to nothing useful. He had decided not to waste any more of his money and so had spent the time since standing around, alert and waiting. It must have been about fifteen minutes until he caught sight of Felix and Brian heading down the steps of the building, the former carrying a small paper bag. He waved until they saw him.
"What happened to the floater?" the reporter asked when the two men reached him.
"Dio abandon you here, Flynn?" Felix asked.
Romulus shook his head. "No, he just had to leave for a bit. He told me to stay here and wait for you to come back."
Brian rolled his eyes. "Nice of him to tell us that before we went in."
"He didn't want to wait around here is all. He'll be back soon to check for us."
Felix nodded and looked skyward. "He doesn't like being around police."
"Eh? Why, what's he done?" Brian asked.
Felix glanced at Romulus a moment before smiling to the reporter. "I'll let you ask him that yourself." Brian only grunted.
"Anyway," Romulus continued, "he said he'd come back and check for you every twenty minutes, and that was just about twenty minutes ago, I think." A moment of silence passed. "So did you find anything?"
"I got the local install list, though I'm not thrilled with sifting through it," Brian told them.
"I did some poking around to try to see if the police knew anything. Didn't have much time, though, and people were rather tight-lipped. About the only thing I found out is that they aren't commenting on it to the public at all, which doesn't allow us to draw too many conclusions, I'm afraid. I do have slight reason to think that they hadn't connected our man with the arsons yet." He glanced at Brian. "But that's only a. . . gut feeling."
"Who'd you talk to?" Romulus asked. If the man did know as much as Diomedes had implied, Romulus couldn't help but wonder at how he found it all out, or how he found the people to talk to.
"No one in particular. Oh!" Felix opened the paper bag. "Want a donut?"
The sound of a floater approaching above distracted Romulus from his answer. The group moved back as the weighty hulk set down beside them. Romulus quickly opened the door and entered the vehicle. He moved to the passenger seat beside his mentor while Felix
and Brian repeated to Diomedes what they had told him. Romulus did note that the complaining reporter mentioned nothing about Diomedes's temporary absence. Felix may have simply beaten him to it, however.
"Had to take off for a bit, did you?" he asked, taking his seat.
Diomedes re-powered the engines. "Being careful,"
"Ah, yes, you're always careful. I nearly forgot. Incidentally, where did you get this floater?"
"We'll land a few blocks over," the freelancer said. "Then we decide what's next."
Romulus watched out the window as they rose. Three police cars ejected from the building up the block with sirens flashing and raced up the road away from them. He did wonder where the floater came from.
"So I'm to understand," said Felix, "that no one, at all, wants a donut?"
XIII
"Have you got the money?"
The fat man was sweating, though less from nervousness than the heat of his own bulk, given his otherwise calm exterior. He man waited, one eyebrow arched, for an answer to his question.
Before giving one, the man he had asked took a drink and glanced around the bar. A few customers in suits and dresses engaged in private conversation in the plush leather seats and polished wood tables scattered about the place. Light jazz piano floated in the air with the soft haze of cigarette smoke that filtered the lights of the city hundreds of feet below. He set the drink down. "Is it verified?" he asked the fat man.
"Is what verified?"
"That it is what they suspect it is," the drinking man said. "Has it been verified?"
"Have you got the money?" the fat man repeated.
The other smiled. "You can tell your contact that the money is being acquired. I have more than half already. Getting the rest is a paltry matter of, shall we say, finesse. He'll have it, when it's time, provided there is something there worth paying for. So again I ask, has it been verified?"
"Not yet, from what he tells me. But he wants you to know they're close. I'm supposed to contact you with a yes or no to that tomorrow. But he needs to know tonight if you're in, and if you have the money. Otherwise it's not worth him sticking his arse in the fire." The fat man snorted.
A Shadow in the Flames (The New Aeneid Cycle) Page 13