by Alex P. Berg
“You do have a plan, right?”
“Well, yes, of course I do,” I said. “With the Captain’s help, we came up with a way to infiltrate the Wyverns—that’s the gang who kidnapped you—and I figured I’d use my newly gained position among them to figure out where they kept you, then track you down, and save you in gallant fashion.”
“Whoa, hold on,” said Steele. “You planned on infiltrating the, what…Wyverns, was it? And you expected they’d instantly warm to you? How long have I been down here? I thought it was only a few hours.”
“Well, the, uh…plan didn’t involve you at first,” I said. “It’s deviated a bit.”
“You’re losing me, Daggers.”
I sighed. “Okay, here’s the short version. The Captain approached me the night after we found Griggs and asked me to investigate his murder on my own. Why? Because the Captain knew Griggs had once upon a time been involved with the Wyverns—yes, he was dirty, to an extent anyway—and the Captain hoped I might be able to shed light on his murder, either by proving his death had nothing to do with his prior mob connections, thereby clearing the Captain’s conscience and saving him from public scrutiny, or by proving it was the Wyverns and at least serving justice to the killer, if none of the former. The Captain connected me with a former Wyvern go-between, and from there all I had to do was prove my worth through a series of challenges, known as the crucible, before I’d be initiated as a rookie Wyvern.”
“Alright…” said Steele slowly. “I think I followed that—although I’m still trying to process it. But how do I fit in?”
“Rodgers and Quinto came by and told me you’d been kidnapped. I told them to tear the warehouse you’d been taken at down to the studs in search of clues to your location. Meanwhile, I’d continue with the last remaining challenge of the crucible in the hopes I could complete it, gain entry into the Wyverns, and ferret out knowledge of your whereabouts using my new status, as I already said. Two different routes, one goal. As you can see, I made it here first.”
“You did it, then?” asked Steele. “You infiltrated the gang that murdered Barrett and Griggs?”
“Uh, well…no,” I said. “Apparently they found out I was a cop. Still trying to figure out how.”
“Hold on,” said Shay. “Are you telling me you’re imprisoned here with me?”
“It would appear that way, yes.”
“Daggers! Are you kidding me? So we’re screwed then, aren’t we?”
“Calm down,” I said. “Do you see me flipping out?”
“I don’t see much of anything,” said Steele.
“You know what I mean.”
“Alright,” said Steele. “Enlighten me then. How are we getting out of this mess?”
“Before I came here, I sent a message to Rodgers and Quinto telling them to ditch their backup at the warehouse and meet me en route. They tailed me to the house above. Once they see my Wyvern recruiter, Sebastian Cobb, exit the house alone, they’ll barge in afterwards. They’ll rip this place apart in search of us.”
“Oh.” Shay exhaled. “Well, I suppose that was pretty smart.”
“Thanks for the belated vote of confidence.”
We sat in the pitch dark silence for a moment, and I contemplated if I should go in for another kiss. Seemed like the moment had passed…
“So what happened with the Wyverns, then?” asked Steele. “How’d they make you?”
“I told you, I’m not sure,” I said. “My best guess is they had an informant somewhere I didn’t expect.”
“So what now? I mean, after Quinto and Rodgers arrive.”
“What do you mean?” I said. “We track them down. Find Griggs’ killer and bring him to justice.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?”
“We’ll combine our knowledge. Your official investigation and my off-the-books one. Surely between the two of us we’ll find parallels. For example, last night I visited that warehouse before you and the guys did. Site of our second crucible challenge. Speaking of which, how was your side of the investigation coming along? Any new leads?”
“You mean other than what led us to the shipping container manufacturing plant?” said Steele. “Not a whole lot. And before you ask, my trail of breadcrumbs stops there. I got kidnapped, remember? I didn’t get anything out of that place.”
“Right,” I said. “But that’s Barrett’s side. What about Griggs? You were still cagey about discussing him the last time.”
Shay sighed. “Well, I guess there’s no point dancing around his murder anymore, not if what you said about the Captain is true. But you’ll be disappointed with what I tell you.”
“And that is?”
“Nothing. Griggs has been a total dead end. Rodgers, Quinto, and I turned over every rock we could find, but we couldn’t trace his movements for the last few days. Nothing in his apartment indicated he was up to no good. No prints. No neighbors who saw the intruders. The killers hid their tracks as well as they could’ve.”
My mind drifted back to where it had been in my apartment, when I’d mulled over the details of Griggs’ death and what little I knew about his murder. Unfortunately, it sounded as if my team hadn’t unearthed much else. But there had to be more. There just had to…
“How did he die?” I asked.
“Pardon?”
“Griggs,” I said. “I saw it on Cairny’s clipboard when I first snuck into the dungeon. She wrote that his windpipe hadn’t been sufficiently compressed for him to have died from asphyxiation, but that was a preliminary report. So how did he die?”
“You really want to know?” asked Steele.
“What do you mean?” I said. “Of course I do. It could be important.”
Steele paused. “Cardiac arrest.”
I blinked, though it didn’t change my vision in the least. “Huh?”
“It makes sense if you think about it, Daggers,” said Steele. “He was old and his heart was weak. You add the intense fear of being confronted by a professional hit man, plus a restricted airway? His heart gave out before the killer could finish the job.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Really. Cairny’s positive.”
I sighed and pressed a hand to my forehead. I’d banked on the mystery of Griggs’ death to lead me somewhere, but cardiac arrest? I’d been sure it must’ve been poison or drugs or dark magic. Anything other than natural causes. But I trusted Cairny, and to be fair, Griggs was old. Ancient, really. I’d chided him about it constantly. Still, he’d always been such a tough buzzard. I guess I thought the reaper alone would never take him. Ultimately, it made no difference. If his body hadn’t failed him, then the killer would’ve soon finished the job. But given his tough-as-nails persona, I was sure he would’ve needed some final jolt before he’d kick the bucket.
I paused and blinked. It couldn’t be that easy…but it would explain a lot. Everything, really.
Somewhere outside my cloud of thought, I heard footsteps.
38
I stood and turned, and in the distance I saw…something. Not total darkness. I took that as a good sign.
“Come on,” I told Steele. “This way.”
I fumbled in the dark until I grabbed her hand, then headed in the direction of the light. As it grew, I made out the corridor through which I’d entered and beyond that, the rusted iron gate. I approached it, and there, coming toward us on the other side, were a familiar pair of faces.
Rodgers led the way, lantern in hand. “That you, Daggers?” His eyes widened. “Holy mother of…Steele?”
“It’s a package deal,” I said. “Hooray!”
Quinto rushed the gate. “Steele! Oh, thank goodness you’re okay. I’m so sorry. We never should’ve left you outside the warehouse alone. You should’ve come in with us, lookout be damned! Why if I—”
“It’s alright, Quinto,” she said. “We came to the decision together. You guys had no idea what would happen, no
r did I. And I’m fine. Or I will be as soon as you spring us loose.”
Quinto tested the gate, but it didn’t budge. “Hmm…locked.”
“You think?” I said. “Or perhaps Steele and I decided to hang out here in the dark for the fun of it.”
I gave my partner a glance. I mean…there had been the kiss—both of them—but I didn’t think Rodgers and Quinto needed to know about them at the moment.
“Don’t get snarky.” Quinto eyed the thick metal bars. “I wonder if I could break it down. Depends if the gate is moored to the bedrock or not…”
Rodgers set his lantern down. “Step aside, big guy. Let me give it a try.”
I gave Shay a nudge with my elbow. “I hear he’s been working out.”
“Funny.” Rodgers reached into his coat and produced a leather wallet, which he opened to reveal a multitude of shiny steel tools.
“Since when have you carried lock picks with you?” I asked.
“These?” said Rodgers. “I don’t know. Months. Years, maybe. I never get to use them because you and Quinto are always so intent on employing brute force.” He knelt down and got to work. “So, how’d you locate Steele, Daggers?”
“By using a keen combination of wit, intuition, and careful planning,” I said.
“Mixed with a heaping portion of dumb luck,” said Shay.
“Dumb luck?” I said. “Why can’t it be smart luck? That’s where the planning comes into play, after all. And aren’t you supposed to be playing the role of the relieved damsel in distress?”
Shay’s eyes twinkled. “I never took theater as an elective.”
I heard the clank of the gate’s latch. Rodgers stood and tugged on the metal bars. The door swung open.
Quinto clapped his partner on the back. “Good work, pal.”
Rodgers winced under the heavy blow. “Yeah. Anytime.”
“So, what now?” asked Steele. “I don’t suppose you brought backup with you and set someone to trail Daggers’ Wyvern contact?”
Quinto shook his head. “Nope. We didn’t exactly foresee this turn of events. And we never considered splitting up to do what you suggested. Not after…well, you know.”
I glanced at Rodgers and Quinto, then Steele, my brows furrowed.
My partner caught my look. “What is it?”
I shook my head. “Oh…sorry. I forget that despite your psychic training and womanly intuition, you can’t actually read my mind. But we don’t need to track Cobb. I know who killed Griggs.”
My friends erupted in a chorus of surprise.
“What?”
“Huh?”
“Who?”
I pointed a finger at Steele. “It was what you told me about Griggs. The cardiac arrest. I believe you and Cairny about that being what killed him. But Griggs wouldn’t have gone out like that. You never knew him. He was too tough. The guys can attest to it. Something had to have shocked his system. And that’s when I realized it. Lazarus killed him.”
“Again, who?” said Steele.
“Left-eye Lazarus,” I said. “He’s this crazy kook who lives in the municipal cistern. My Wyvern go-between, the one the Captain referred me to.”
“The Captain has Wyvern contacts?” asked Quinto, incredulous.
“Trust me, I will explain this all eventually,” I told him. “The point is, now that I think about it, it all makes sense. Cobb even told me as much. The Wyverns are smugglers. They operate underground. Literally. Through the cistern. That’s how they move goods around the city, and how they get those same goods in and out of port. Trust me, I studied the cistern’s blueprints. There are overflow outlets that connect to the river Earl. Two of those are by West and Smith. That’s how they got their shipping containers on site without anyone noticing. That’s how they smuggle.
“And there’s more than that. Cobb—you haven’t met him, but he’s pasty and pale. Why? Not because he’s always up at night, which is what I first thought, but because he spends all his time underground. And he always wears oil-slicked knee-high boots. I thought they were a fashion statement, but I should’ve known better after I got mocked for my own galoshes that one day. The point is, the Wyvern base must be in the cistern, and Laz must be one of them. He’s how the Wyverns knew who I was. They knew all along. He told them.”
I clenched my fist. “Which means he lied to me. About the Wyverns. About Griggs, who he undoubtedly murdered. And he must’ve lied to the Captain. About everything, for decades. Abused his trust and played him for a fool.”
That last part bothered me. It had to be true—otherwise why would the Captain send me to him? He couldn’t have known. The only other explanation was that the Captain was in much deeper than he admitted to me, and I couldn’t believe that. Not after him looking me in the eye and telling me what he did. I wouldn’t.
But if Lazarus was our murderer, it begged another question: why didn’t the man kill me when he had the chance?
“Hold on,” said Steele. “I’m sure you’re onto something, because when you get this way you inevitably are, but am I missing a key point? How did this Lazarus guy give Griggs a heart attack?”
“Right. I forgot to mention that,” I said. “Lazarus is an electromancer.”
Jaws fell.
“Precisely,” I said. “It’s why I assumed he lived in the cistern. He’s clearly paranoid about being found—which should’ve been another clue. He’s set up a rig with metal poles descending into the water. He can fry anyone who approaches him, and you can’t sneak up on the guy because of all the splashing you make walking though the half-foot-deep water. Which reminds me, Steele. You know more about the supernatural than any of us. How would you take down a lightning mage?”
Shay blinked and looked at me as if trying to figure out if I was being genuine. “Um…with numbers?”
“Seriously,” I said.
“I am serious,” said Shay. “It’s the lightning rod method. One person with a pike charges and takes the brunt of the blast and everyone else follows close behind. It’s either that or you get the drop on them.”
“Which is hard because of reasons I’ve already mentioned.” I shook my head. “Well, we’ll have to give it some thought. But we don’t have time to waste. The Wyverns are up to something, and if I’m right in regards to timing, it must be going down soon, otherwise they wouldn’t have imprisoned me with Steele. We’ll get moving and think on the run.”
I motioned my crew forward. We hustled down the hall, back to the rotting stairs, and started to climb them. We’d made it three-quarters of the way to the top before I heard the heavy creaking of boards overhead, and with them, a familiar hair-raising voice.
39
“Cobb? You here, Cobb?” he called, his voice muffled by the walls.
We all froze on the steps, and his name escaped my lips. “Bonesaw…”
“Who?” whispered Steele.
“You don’t want to know.” I chewed my lip and looked at my friends. “You all stay here. I think I can defuse this alone. But keep your ears wide open. If it sounds as if I’m in a jam, that’s the time to show yourselves. And trust me, if it comes down to that I’ll need the help.”
Quinto nodded, knowing I meant that last part for him.
Rodgers raised the lantern. “Want this?”
“Keep it,” I said. “Better if he doesn’t see me coming. Better yet, shutter it before I leave.”
Rodgers did as I asked. I took a step toward the door.
Shay grabbed my arm. “Daggers. Be careful, will you?”
I started to say, “Always,” then stopped myself. I routinely ran into danger headlong, despite the fact that I had people in my life who cared for and depended on me. Tommy, especially, although Nicole seemed to be doing a stand-up job raising him without my input. But now, for the first time since my divorce, there was a woman in my life I didn’t want to lose—and it wasn’t a purely professional relationship any more.
&n
bsp; “I’ll do my best,” I said.
I pushed on the door and slid back into the abandoned house.
It was dark. Apparently, Bonesaw hadn’t brought his own lantern, but moonlight filtering through the boarded windows gave me just enough to see by—not that I needed light to locate the ogre. I heard him banging around the back, in the kitchen area beyond where I’d met Cobb.
I slipped around the corner. Bonesaw peeked into an empty room, beyond the folding table and chair that sat there, his back to me.
“You’re late, pal.”
Bonesaw jumped and cracked his head against the door frame. He turned and snarled. “I’m getting real tired of you sneaking up on me, you know that?”
“Sorry,” I said. “Figured it was a job requirement, so I thought I’d brush up on it.”
“Where’s Cobb?”
“Just missed him,” I said. “Left maybe fifteen or twenty minutes ago.”
“Without you?” Bonesaw lifted a brow. “Guess that means you failed. There’s hope for me yet.”
I took a shot in the dark—metaphorically speaking. “You can drop the act, Bonesaw. I know the whole thing was a setup.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“The crucible. The challenges. Everything. I know the Wyverns laid it out for me on a silver platter, only to pull the rug out from under me at the end.”
Bonesaw took a step toward me. “You’re not making any sense, Baggers, but what is coming through is a whole buncha sore loser talk. I don’t know about you, but I waited a long time for this opportunity, and I’m in dire straights. So maybe you’d better stand aside and tell me where Cobb went so I can win this damned thing once and for all.”
Was I wrong? Perhaps the crucible challenges hadn’t been rigged. If so, I’d won them all legitimately. I felt like patting myself on the back, but I didn’t—mostly because I didn’t understand where Bonesaw was coming from.
“How do you plan on winning the competition without Droot’s finger, big fella?”
Bonesaw lifted a hand. In the darkness I hadn’t noticed it, but between his meaty digits he held something. Long. Thin. With a glint of blood and metal and jewels. A finger.