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Metal Sky

Page 23

by Jay Caselberg


  She gave a little frown and shifted position on the chair. She didn’t look comfortable. Really, what he needed to do was grow a new couch. It would take a full night for the building’s programming to put it in place, but perhaps that would fix the problem. Stupid that he hadn’t thought of doing it before. Anyway, that was a side issue at the moment. He licked his lips and took a breath.

  “Okay, this is what I’ve been thinking. Is there any way you can rig the home systems so that someone outside can watch in from outside and see and hear what’s happening without it being obvious from here?”

  Billie got her thinking face on. He sat back and let her work at it for a moment or two. Finally, she nodded slightly, the traces of a frown still on her face as if she hadn’t quite finished thinking.

  “Uh-huh. I think so . . .” she said slowly. She narrowed her eyes.

  “But we have to be able to control it somehow,” he said.

  She nodded again.

  “Okay. Good. I need to get Landerman and Farrell here. It’s important that Morrish gets to see what’s happening. Do you understand what I mean?”

  Billie pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I know what you mean, Jack,” she said, impatience in her tone.

  “Yeah, sorry. Of course you do. But you can do it, right? Because if we can’t do it, it’s not going to work.”

  “I said I could, didn’t I?”

  “All right.” Jack slapped his thighs and stood. “I’ll wait till you’re ready to go before calling our players together. How long will it take for you to set things up? I need it to function in my office rather than the living room. I want in here to be clear.”

  Billie looked thoughtful. “For me, not too long. I don’t know about them.”

  Jack paced past the couch. “Yeah, of course.” He trailed his fingers across the back of the couch and Billie wrinkled her nose. Remembering, Jack quickly withdrew his hand and shoved it in his pocket. “One thing though, I don’t want them to be able to gain access again once this is all over.”

  She nodded. “No problem.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t you get down there, and once you’re sure that they’re able to do what we need, then call me. I’ll make the other calls then. How much time do you need here?”

  She shrugged. “About half an hour. Maybe.”

  “Okay, well, I’ve got some stuff to do. I’ll leave you to get on with it. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

  She nodded. He left her sitting there.

  He did have things to do. He wanted to compile all of his dream notes together, put them in some sort of order—maybe edit them and make them properly comprehensible. He had to make a couple of sketches too, to convey what was in the notes. There were reasons, now, and very good reasons too, that he needed to do that. He had something to do with those notes, once everything had played out.

  Jack was sitting in his office, waiting, when his handipad announced a call and he flipped it open. It was Billie, as expected, and she looked less than impressed.

  “You okay, Billie?”

  “Uh-huh,” she said. “They know what they have to do.”

  “Okay, I’ll need you to stay there. I don’t want this thing kicked off until they’re here.”

  She screwed up her face, but then nodded.

  “Are they treating you okay?”

  She nodded again. “I guess.”

  “Okay, I’m going to make the calls now. I’ll just call you when I’m ready. Don’t answer. You’ll know it’s me.”

  She nodded and he thumbed the connection closed. He thought about that for a minute. There wasn’t anyone else that was going to be calling her, was there?

  Gathering his composure, he readied himself to make the call. He had to run everything in sequence. It was the only way to make sure all this came off properly. Timing was going to be everything.

  He took a deep breath and got ready, facing the wall. “Call Bridgett Farrell.” He gave the address.

  Moments later, Bridgett Farrell’s face took shape on the wall in front of him.

  “Jack, what is it?” she said.

  “Ah, good, you’re there. Something’s happened. I needed to make sure you were there.”

  “What is it? What’s happened?”

  “Just something important. Some information’s come to light in the last couple of hours. I need to check something out first just to make sure, and then I’ll call you back.”

  She looked worried. “Really. What is it?” she asked again.

  “No, it’s okay. Just make sure you’re there. End call,” he said.

  Taking another steadying breath, he made sure his expression was as deadpan as possible. So far so good.

  “Call Excelsior Hotel.” He waited while the connection was made and the desk program came into view. “Please put me through to Christian Landerman.”

  “Who shall I say is calling?”

  “Jack Stein.”

  A couple of moments, and the desk program’s face was replaced by that of Landerman. Jack could see Larkin hovering in the background.

  “Ahh, Mr. Stein,” said Landerman. “I was starting to give up hope.”

  “You should never give up hope, Mr. Landerman.”

  Landerman chuckled. “Of course not, Stein. Of course not.”

  “I have something that may be of interest to you.”

  Landerman leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Really?” he said. He glanced back over his shoulder at the figure behind him and then back at the screen.

  “Yes, really,” said Jack.

  Landerman sat back and linked his fingers before him. “So, how soon before you can be here?”

  “No,” said Jack.

  Landerman frowned. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

  “That’s not the way we’re going to do it.”

  Landerman pursed his lips, rubbing one thumb over the other. “I see.” Then he chuckled. “All right, Stein, tell me what you want.”

  “You come here. I’ll hand it over to you then. Four o’clock. You see, I can be more assured that things will go the right way if you come here. It’s not that I don’t trust you or your little friend, Mr. Landerman, I’d just feel more comfortable.”

  Again Landerman chuckled. “Oh, I can see that, Mr. Stein. Very wise of you. Very cautious. I admire such caution. I will, of course, bring my own safeguards.”

  “I understand,” said Jack.

  Landerman severed the connection.

  The second part was in place. Now, just one more call to make.

  Bridgett Farrell answered almost as soon as the call had gone through. She must have been waiting by the wallscreen. She looked nervous.

  “What is it, Jack? Will you tell me now?” she said, her hand flat against the base of her throat.

  “Yeah, I’ll tell you. I had a visit last night, but I think you know that.”

  “Who?”

  “Your Captain Gourley.”

  Her lips parted in an almost-sigh, the slightest exhalation. “Do you have it?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got it.”

  She stood. “Oh, Jack. That’s wonderful.”

  “Uh-huh. Not so wonderful for Gourley though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s dead. Someone shot him.” He waited for the information to sink in.

  She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “What do you want to do?”

  “Tell you what,” he said. “You come here. I’ve got some things to do. I should be finished right about three forty-five. What do you say?”

  “But the item?”

  “It’s safe for now. If you can come here, we can work out what the next steps are, together.”

  “Three forty-five?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She nodded. “End call,” he said.

  And part three in place. He glanced at the time display. He had about an hour and a half to script what he was going to say.

 
He headed for the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, feeling to make sure that he had his handipad ready so he could make the call to Billie.

  When the door announced the first arrival, he was ready. He checked that it was indeed Bridgett Farrell and quickly grabbed for his handipad. Jack had set it up to call Billie at the touch of his thumb. Checking the call had gone through, he thumbed it off. He didn’t want to be disturbed at all over the next hour. Heading for the door, he let her in.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Galvin,” he said, for once using her proper name.

  “Jack, where is it?”

  He put his finger to his lips and beckoned her inside.

  She glanced around the living room as soon as she was in, frowning. “Where’s the little girl?” she asked.

  “She’s not that little,” said Jack. “And she’s not here anyway.”

  “Good. I think it’s far better if we’re alone.”

  Jack stepped back out of her way, just in case she decided she wanted to touch him again to reinforce her point. He needed his concentration intact right now, and the concept of being truly alone with Bridgett Farrell—or Danuta Galvin, whatever she wanted to call herself—was having its own effect.

  “I think we should go into the office,” he said.

  Jack led her across to the door, then stepped back to let her enter. It was times like this that he really missed having an office separate from the place where he lived, but there was little he could do about it right now. He hoped to hell Billie had everything set up.

  His client looked quickly around the office as soon as she was inside, clearly searching for the artifact.

  “Where is it, Jack?” she said.

  He shook his finger at her. “Not yet.”

  “What do you mean, not yet?” She was now looking distinctly annoyed.

  “Not before I get a few answers. You may as well sit down, Ms. Galvin.”

  She chose a chair and sat. “And you may as well call me Danuta and drop this pretense of formality, Jack.”

  She put her bag down beside her on the floor and crossed her hands in her lap. Jack walked across to his own chair, framing what he was about to say carefully, watching her. He glanced at the wall display and sat. Any time now. He just had to spin this out long enough.

  “I think you need to give me a couple of answers,” he said. “Let’s start with the Alan Dean, with Captain Gourley.”

  “What about him? He was Carl’s contact. Just one among many.” She shrugged.

  “Come on, Danuta, he had to be more than just Talbot’s contact, didn’t he? He knew to come here, didn’t he? How do you explain that? He wound up dead, but more than that, he wound up dead at my place. I didn’t appreciate that.”

  She smiled. He couldn’t believe she smiled. “Of course he knew where to come. I sent a message to the Alan Dean. I told him to expect trouble and I gave him your address. It’s as simple as that.”

  Jack waited, but that was all the explanation she was going to give. “Yeah, well, he found trouble, didn’t he?”

  She blinked a couple of times. “Is that all you want to know?”

  “No, there’s a hell of a lot more that I want to know, Danuta. When Talbot wouldn’t play, he mysteriously disappears and winds up dead. All very convenient. How long before the same thing happens to me?”

  She moistened her lips and lifted one hand slowly to touch her earring, her face tilting slightly to the side. “You’re wrong, Jack. You’re so very wrong. We can work well together. Now we have the artifact, there’s so much we can do. This is just the start. I’m going to need your help to set things up with the auction. It would be perfect. You, me, the child. It’s the perfect cover. Think about it.”

  He simply stared at her. She could not be serious. And the fact that she’d already factored Billie into the equation almost prompted him to say something. What the hell did she think he was?

  He was saved from answering. The front door announced an arrival. He glanced at the wall display.

  Landerman, if it was Landerman, was about five minutes early but he seemed like the sort. Good.

  “Wait here,” he told her.

  She sat forward. “Just let whoever it is go away. You don’t have to answer.”

  Jack stood. “Sorry. I can’t do that.”

  He left the office, carefully closed the door, and stepped close to the living room wall. “Show visitors,” he said.

  It was Landerman and Larkin all right. Jack nodded to himself. Good. Everything was working exactly to plan.

  Twenty-Three

  Larkin was hiding a little behind Landerman, his face averted. Landerman was dressed in something other than the green designer robe for once, a dark luxurious suit and a high-necked white top. He pulled at his cuffs as Jack opened the door, then looked up to meet Jack’s eyes with a steady gaze of his own.

  “Well, Mr. Stein,” he chuckled. “Are we ready to do business?”

  Jack stood where he was, blocking the doorway. “Yeah, as long as your little friend isn’t going to pull anything funny.”

  Landerman lifted his hand. “Oh, you can be assured, Mr. Stein. Our friend here will behave himself, won’t you, Larkin?” He stepped back out of the way.

  Larkin looked back at Jack with a set face. He was sporting a deep purpling bruise around one eye, the eye almost closed, and a nasty red welt across his chin. Jack found that immensely interesting.

  “Been sticking our face where it’s not wanted, have we?” said Jack with a wry smile.

  Larkin made to step forward, but Landerman thrust out a hand. “Now, Larkin. We have some business to conduct. As Mr. Stein says, we should do this in a civilized manner.”

  Jack nodded and stepped back to let them enter. He wasn’t entirely comfortable having Larkin here, inside the inner sanctum, but with the current working arrangements there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. Landerman stepped into the living room and looked around with a disdainful eye.

  “Yeah, well,” said Jack, “it might not be what you’re used to, but it’s what you get.”

  Landerman spread his hands wide. “Of course I meant no criticism, Mr. Stein.”

  “This way,” said Jack, leading the way to the office. He opened the door and stepped through.

  “We have visitors, my dear,” he said.

  Landerman stepped through the door with Larkin just behind. Landerman stopped, took in the room, then fixed his gaze on the woman in the chair. “Oh, dear,” he said, and chuckled.

  Galvin blanched. She sat there for a couple of seconds, then shot to her feet. “You bastard,” she said to Jack.

  “Now, now, Ms. Galvin, that’s not very nice,” he said to her. “I thought we could work all this out together. It was all just getting far too confusing. So many different stories, so many different people . . . some of them alive, some of them dead.”

  Again Landerman chuckled. Jack pointed to one of the vacant chairs, and Landerman nodded and moved across to sit. Jack waved Danuta down and, still glaring daggers at him, she slowly retook her seat. She avoided looking at Landerman at all. Jack turned to Larkin.

  “And you . . . you can sit over there.” He waved at the sleep couch. Larkin’s eyes widened, the heavily bruised one as much as it could, and then narrowed again. He backed toward the couch, keeping his hands in his pockets and never breaking eye contact with Jack’s face. Jack gave a little snort and turned away, moving around behind the desk and taking his place in his own chair.

  “All right,” he said. “We’re all here. Now we can get down to business.”

  Landerman looked to Galvin and then back at Jack. “Have you got the item?”

  “Uh-huh,” said Jack.

  Landerman glanced around the office. “I don’t see it, Mr. Stein.”

  “Oh, it’s here, all right,” he said. “No goods though, until I get a few answers.”

  Landerman unclasped and clasped his hands again. “Very well. What is it you want to know?”

  �
�No, I think we’ll start with Danuta, if you don’t mind.” She was still glaring at him. He turned his attention to her. “I like this much better,” he said. “Now that we’re all here like one big, happy family, I think I might get something resembling the truth out of you, Ms. Galvin, or Ms. Farrell, or whatever you want to call yourself.”

  Landerman chuckled. Galvin just returned Jack’s look without batting an eyelid. Jack glanced over at Larkin, but the little man was still perched on the edge of the couch staring across at Jack, a flat expression on his face, his jaw set.

  “All right, Ms. Galvin, tell me. What was Carl Talbot to you?”

  “You know this already,” she said. “We worked together. We were partners.”

  “What else?”

  “That’s it. We became . . . close . . . at one time, but it didn’t last long. It complicated things too much.”

  Jack glanced at Landerman, but the older man was just watching serenely, his fingers still clasped in front of him, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

  “Both of you worked for Mr. Landerman here.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  He glanced at Landerman again, who gave a brief nod. “And you were here to pick up the artifact that Mr. Landerman had commissioned you to find for him.”

  She gave a brief annoyed sigh. “Yes. You know that.”

  “And instead, you wanted to cut Mr. Landerman out of the deal, put the artifact into open auction, sell it to the highest bidder, is that right?”

  She bit her lip. “Well?” said Jack. She nodded reluctantly.

  Again Landerman chuckled. “Very enterprising, Danuta. But then, of course, I knew that. Word gets out. Carl had already indicated his intentions to me.”

  “Mr. Landerman, please,” said Jack. “I’m not done yet.”

  Landerman nodded and lapsed into silence.

  “So, Talbot threatened to cut you out. He disappeared. You hired me to find him and the artifact. Meantime, you got in touch with Mr. Landerman here and told him you’d hired me to find Talbot. How am I doing so far?” She said nothing, so Jack continued. “However, all the time, you knew damned well the artifact was on its way here on a slow freighter. You’ve been playing me, you’ve been playing Landerman and anyone else you could find along the way including Talbot, am I right? You hired me to make sure it looked like you really didn’t know where Talbot and the artifact were. I was your perfect cover.”

 

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