Liquid Cool (Liquid Cool, Book 1)

by Austin Dragon

  "Well, if that's how you want it," I said.

  "That's how I want it."

  "Okay."

  I watched him, then slowly walked out the room.

  Box was wide-eyed when I appeared again, pushing in the hoverbed of Mr. Rexx. He glared at Box with such an intensity; if eyes were lasers, Box would have been vaporized.

  "What the hell are you doing?" Box yelled at me.

  When I had Rexx situated, I closed the double doors. "I thought it would be nice if the three of us could sit and chat awhile. Three detectives shooting the breeze, together."

  "He's a detective?" Box said.

  Rexx glared at Box with the look of murder.

  "This is the guy who shot you, and I shot him. As I said before, that earns me a favor from you."

  "And you roll him into my room?" Box yelled.

  "You killed my brother!" Rexx yelled out.

  "I told you on the phone. I did no such thing. That crazy rabbit did."

  "I don't even know what that means. You did it!"

  Rexx was about to throw his urine bag at him when I intervened. "Okay, we won't be flinging bags of urine at people we tried to murder, today. Gentlemen, if we can talk calmly and clearly, we can figure this all out."

  "I've figured it out, and you're dead!" Rexx pointed at Box with the arm hooked up to the IV.

  "Based on the fact that everyone you shot is still alive, your threats don't worry me none."

  I walked closer to Box. "Will you answer my questions?"

  "Why? Why are you involved in this, car guy? Who's your client?"

  "I am the client! It might be hard for you to understand, but I liked Easy Chair Charlie. I can't say he was a friend, any more than you can say the guy at the food market or the mail delivery guy is a friend, but I'd be pissed if I found out someone gunned them down in the street."

  "He wasn't gunned down in the street. Easy shot it out with the cops. Everyone knows that, detective. People go gun-crazy all the time."

  I leaned forward to him. "Stop treating me like I'm stupid. People who go gun-crazy bring their own guns to the mayhem. The only thing Easy had with him was two boxes of fine cigars."

  "He must have stashed the weapons in his hovercar outside."

  "He didn't have a car," I said, "He walked or took public transportation wherever he went. But you know that, Box. Are you going to answer my questions? Mr. Rexx may be busy with the courts and jail for a while, but you and I both know that when he's done, he'll be back at you. So answer the question and clear yourself. What's the harm in that? Your clients are dead." I turned to Rexx and said, "No offense."

  "No offense taken. You didn't kill them."

  "So?"

  I stared at Box. Rexx stared at him. He tried to resist, but he wavered. "You two should be cops. All I'm missing is the beat down."

  "Police don't beat down people, anymore."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah. They're body-cammed up every which way, with the friendly Police Watch Commission watching on the other end for the good of people. You believe that, and you are nothing but a doofus."

  "Mr. Ergot, Box!" I yelled.

  He gave in. "Ergot hired me to find out all about this guy, known on the street, as Red Rabbit."

  "What the hell is a Red Rabbit?" Rexx blurted out.

  "A member of one of those animal gangs, or I should say, in this case, one of the made men in the Animal Farm Crime Syndicate."

  "Animal gangs?" Rexx asked and chuckled.

  It was my turn to jump in. "There are all kinds of criminal gangs. Think of dogs. There are a 1001 different dogs from a Chihuahua to a Great Dane. There are 1001 different kinds of gangs. Go on, Box. It's your story."

  "These animal gangs wear these stupid animal masks—cats, dogs, pigs, monkeys. Rabbits. All kinds of animals. If they weren't so dangerous, it would be funny. Red is obviously with the rabbit gangs. He runs their crew. He got to run their crew by killing their leader, Follow the White Rabbit, and putting Blue Pill Rabbit in a coma."

  Rexx chuckled again. "You're not serious. This sounds like a bunch of nonsense. Rabbit gangs. Animal gangs. White Rabbit. Blue Rabbit. Red Rabbit. Are we little kiddies?" Rexx shook his head, incredulously. "Is this how things go, in your low-class city?"

  "There's nothing kiddie about these animal gangs. And this Red Rabbit is a real psycho. He likes to kill people, even his own people. He's nothing but violence."

  "Why is he called Red Rabbit?" I asked.

  "His favorite weapon is some kind of laser lightning rifle. Supposedly, before it discharges, his rabbit mask turns red. The saying is, 'You see red, then you're dead.' I told Ergot and your brother Peri not to mess with this guy. Supposedly, his entire body is cyborg. You can shoot him 'til hell freezes, and he'll still keep ticking."

  "Why did Ergot hire you to investigate a gang leader?" I asked.

  "I don't know."

  "Box, you've already told most of the story, why not finish it? Remember, I tracked you down."

  "Yeah, how did you find me?"

  "Maybe, if you weren't so busy trying to also find out why Ergot was interested in this gang leader, you wouldn't have been seen. I know you know."

  "He didn't say, but I knew why. He was going to blackmail him."

  "Blackmail?" Rexx asked. "What did he have on a gang criminal to blackmail him with?"

  "Exactly," Box said. "That's what I wanted to know, so I did some poking around."

  "And?" I asked.

  "I didn't find anything. All I knew was Ergot ended up stuffed into his own office piranha fish tank, half-eaten, with his eyeballs hanging out of his head and his main guy thrown out the window. Then, I heard that two sidewalk johnnies were nearly vaporized at the scene of some building lobby fire. I knew it was all Red's work. Violence follows that guy wherever he hops."

  "Lobby fire?" I asked. "Then I rephrase my question," I said. "What do you think Ergot was trying to blackmail him over?"

  "I don't know."

  "Yes, you do. It had something to do with the night Easy supposedly went gun-crazy."

  "If you know, why ask me?"

  I ignored him. "Red was there that night?"

  "I believe so."

  "Based on what?"

  "A guy wearing a rabbit mask with big pointy ears tends to get noticed, even in this city."

  "How far away was he from the scene?" I asked.

  "A hop and a skip away."

  "He was there," I said.

  "He was," Box said. "But he wasn't seen with Easy, so I don't know what the blackmail could have been about."

  "Someone did see him with Easy," I said.

  "Who?"

  "Never mind. That person has been made to disappear. Where's Red now?"

  "Why?" Box asked. "Are you going to trade carrots with him? Cruz, I'll tell you the same thing I told Ergot and Peri; stay far away from this psycho. No good will come from any encounter with him. He shoots you, and you're dead. You won't get the luxury of being able to lie in a bed like me and him."

  I looked at Peri's brother, who was listening intently.

  "I'd listen to him if I were you," he said.

  "So you and Box are friends, now?" I asked.

  "My brother was no slouch, so if someone offed him, then they had a decent amount of skills. And no offense pal, but you look like you'd be more concerned about getting a speck of mud on your nancy-boy tan coat and hat."

  "My hat and coat are cool," I said to him, "like my classic Ford Pony. But..." I turned back to Box. "I have no intention of getting killed anytime this century, especially by a gang member in a rabbit mask."

  "Don't laugh. These animal gangs are animals."

  "I know," I said. "I need to know where this Red is hanging out, now."

  "You're not going to listen, are you?" Box said.

  "I may not have pointy rabbit ears, but I'm listening. I really don't want to know where he hangs out, but I have to. Did you track him to his...?"

  "Lair," Box answered.
"I'll tell you, but before I do, I'll tell you why I'm going to tell you. You may be a car-guy detective, but you seem to have decent skills, and I want no more competition out there than necessary. I'll tell you, and you'll go there, and you'll find Red, and he'll bunny-stop you or blast you to death and then no more competition."

  "Box, did anyone ever tell you that you're a scumbag detective?"

  "All the time, but I can pay my bills every month."

  "Where is he?"

  "Where most of the Animal Farm Crime Syndicate is. You can find him in Mad Heights."

  Chapter 43

  Run-Time

  THIS WAS MY THIRD PASS around the streets surrounding Alien Alley. But I had walked it only once. Back in the day, when I was a new hovercar racer, I had gotten into the junk I was driving, and I felt something was off. It kept bothering me, and eventually, I pulled myself out of the race and gave the hovercar a complete inspection. It had a major separation in one of the feeder junctions to the engine. It could have shorted and crashed to the ground from twenty stories up, and there would be no Cruz or Liquid Cool Detective Agency. I listened to my instincts, even if they were wrong. This Alien Alley was off, but I didn't know why. It was in Woodstock Falls, so it wasn't a bad part of the city. However, I did one walk through, and I was done. I would only survey it from the safety of my Pony.

  This was the scene of the crime. The kidnapping of a little girl as her mother walked her to school. It was the other anomaly the human computer, known as Compstat Connie, mentioned and I agreed. The crime took place at or before the shoot-out on Sweet Street that ended with the death of Easy Chair Charlie. To a normal person, both events would be unconnected; the fact that they occurred on the same night would mean nothing. But now that I was here and walked the alley, I felt otherwise. The end of the alley, where the daughter and mother would have emerged, had a view. It was a view unobstructed by monolith towers as one would expect, based on a quick glance of a street map on one's mobile. Woodstock Falls was a neighborhood of hills, and the neighboring Old Harlem was not. From Alien Alley in Woodstock Falls was a clear view, across the way, of Joe Blows Smoking Emporium, with all its flashing neon lights on Sweet Street.

  Was the little girl just kidnapped at random? Or was it because she saw something or someone she wasn't supposed to see? And now that I confirmed from Box that the someone was a cyborg psycho, named Red Rabbit, the connections were coming together. The events not only happened in close proximity, but they happened on top of each other. I cared about my Easy Chair Charlie Case, but it coincided with the Lutty Girl Kidnapping Case. I had no proof at all, but they were connected.

  Those were the "whats" of the cases. It was the "how" and "why" of my Easy Chair Charlie Case I needed. I kept babbling to myself. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it, I said to myself.

  Mad Heights.

  I was stalling for time, and I knew it. For damn good reason.

  When I came through my office door, PJ was fiddling with a new purple mobile computer on her desk.

  "Look what I got," she said.

  "What happened to the old one?"

  "Oh, I burned the keys out on that one."

  "Just replace the keyboard."

  "It costs the same to replace the keyboard as it does to get a whole new mobile computer. So I got a new one."

  "You should get one of those auxiliary keyboards, so all you have to do is replace those."

  She smiled. "You do come up with good ideas every so often."

  "That's what I've been told. Visitors?"

  "None."

  "Calls?"

  "A ton. All on your desk."

  "What about the window? I don't why it took so long to fix. How can it take three weeks to fix a window? Don't throw any more people out my window."

  "I didn't throw anyone out. You shot him out the window."

  "What about the window, then?"

  "Fixed and as good as new, but we can't keep shooting it out. Do you have any new clients? The paying kind?"

  I walked away into my personal office.

  We all needed to get paid. I was burning through money like a billion-sheet roll of toilet paper in the center of the sun. I could see the words flash in my brain: "Most businesses fail because of lack of adequate start-up capital."

  "You Cruz?" the man on my video-phone asked.

  "I, Cruz."

  "You detective?"

  "I detective."

  "Good, I need you to shoot someone."

  "Shoot wounded or shoot dead?"

  "Shoot dead."

  "My firm doesn't offer that as a service yet, but I'll refer you."

  "Oh, good."

  "Do you have something to write on?"

  "Hold on...Got it."

  "Nine."

  "Nine."

  "One."

  "One."

  "One."

  "One."

  "That's two ones after the nine. Call that express line and ask for the same thing, and they'll help you."

  "Oh, good."

  "It has to be a detective?"

  "Oh yes. You can cover up your tracks, so the cops don't catch you."

  "You're a real, live genius."

  "Oh, I not all that, but I is smart."

  "Hiring a detective to kill someone. That's like hiring a fireman to do an arson job for you. You smart."

  "Oh yes. I try."

  "Call that number and hire your guy. But don't mention my name, or they'll jack up the price on you."

  "Okay. Thanks detective."

  "Happy to help."

  I disconnected my video-phone. "PJ!" I yelled.

  The call came in when I was hunched over my desk re-prioritizing my messages. I had the "hot" pile, the "hold" pile, the "hell no" pile, and a few other miscellaneous ones.

  "Line one." PJ's voice came through my video-phone intercom.

  I thought it funny to hear PJ say "line one" when all I had was one line.

  Run-Time appeared on the video display with his trademark flat cap.

  "How are you, sir?" I said.

  "I'm blessed, and I hear you've been too."

  "I wouldn't go that far, but I've had a good start, aside from a few unpleasantries."

  "Unpleasantries are a fact of life. Are you officially back from your vacation? The Box is what I was told you call it."

  "I'm back with a new hat, new coat, and new attitude to make things happen. I'm back."

  "Good. I have another client for you."

  "What's her name?"

  "Carol Num..."

  "The mother of the kidnapped girl."

  Run-Time stopped a beat. "You know her?"

  "I heard about it when I was poking around for Fat Nat."

  "She's in a bad way, and Flash asked me to intervene."

  "Flash is always the knight in shining armor to the rescue."

  "I'm going to see her tomorrow, and I'd like to have a solution for her. Maybe, if I could say a detective friend would take a look."

  "I'll take it. The case."

  "Just like that?"

  "Sure. I told you, I'm back."

  "She's very fragile, and my police friends say there's nothing happening with the case."

  "When do you want me to come by to meet her?"

  "Tomorrow. One of my VPs'll call you and confirm."

  "I'll clear my schedule."

  Chapter 44

  Carol Num

  I MADE GOOD TIME TO Let It Ride Enterprises headquarters in Peacock Hills. However, all the extra time I thought I had was eaten up by the awful Electric Blvd. hovertraffic. Valet took my Pony—I never allowed valet to touch my vehicle anywhere else, but I knew all of Run-Time's people, so it was okay—and I got in the elevator capsule.

  "Mr. Cruz." His Lebanese VP was waiting for me, and after I replied with a greeting, she led me up to Run-Time's executive office.

  "Cruz." Run-Time's smile was always infectious. We greeted each other, and he gestured me to an empty seat in his inner sitti
ng area.

  There she was—Carol Num, a Caucasian female with dark hair, still wearing her gray slicker with a mini-umbrella clipped to the waist. I shook her hand and sat across from her. Run-Time and his VP sat in their facing chairs. We were all sitting on one side of a cube design. I could see in her eyes this was no ordinary meeting with a client. In her eyes, I was her last hope. I had to be very careful what I said. She was on the edge of sanity. The police had done nothing, in her mind, and no one else had either.

  "Should I call you, Mrs. Num?"

  "No, please call me Carol."

  "Carol, I'm going to apologize right at the start."

  "For what?" I could see the hope in her eyes preparing itself to die.

  "Because I'm about to speak to you in a somewhat unfriendly, accusatory way that victims in your situation do not deserve."

  "I don't understand."

  "I need you to tell me the truth, not the story you've been telling the police or my friend here."

  Carol's head jerked back in total shock. "I don't know what you mean. I have only told the truth. My daughter was taken from me."

  "That's probably the only true part of the story, but I want to know the part before and the part after, but only the truth."

  "I did say the truth!" Carol jumped from her seat, her eyes tearing up.

  The VP stood quickly and took her hand and, though I didn't look at him, Run-Time was giving me a look I had never seen from him in all the years we'd known each other—anger.

  I stood slowly from my chair. "Carol, I'm sorry, but I won't be able to help you. If you can't give me the whole truth, then how am I supposed to go after the kidnapper? I'm sorry."

  I stepped away from my chair and walked to the office door—slowly. Carol, the VP, and even Run-Time stood there with their mouths hanging open.

  "Wait!" Carol yelled.

  I stopped and looked back at her.

  "How did you know I wasn't telling the truth?" she asked.

  The look on both the VPs' and Run-Time's faces. They did a double-take and stared at her.

  "Well, for one, I looked into your background and found that you owned a plasma gun. That is a serious gun, and you got it four years ago, so it was just before you started walking your daughter to school. That meant you carried it whenever you walked her to school for protection, that night, too. You were armed that night and there's no way you would let some guy in a rabbit mask get your daughter without a shot.