The Coconut Swindle (Black Cape Case Files Book 2)

by Matt Abraham

  “You know him?” Shelly said.

  “I do.” That God damn reg was my last client.

  Chapter 36

  Monday hung up his cell phone, and tossed it onto the dashboard. “It all checks out, Shelly was en route to Atlanta when the boys broke into the museum. And her finances are clean. If she paid a hefty sum for this crime she did it with a secret trick our fraud guys don’t know.”

  “Of course it checks out,” I said, and clicked my seatbelt. “She’s clean.”

  “Yeah, that was a tight one-eighty you pulled inside. Why?”

  “Because she looks so good for it. She’s got a sexy motive, connections to the murder weapon, and even knowledge of Wentorf’s security system. All she’d need is a weak alibi and you’d have enough circumstantial evidence to bring her up on charges.”

  “Detective Monday?” the police scanner barked. “We’ve got that information you requested. Toby Teenie’s main residence is on thirty-four fifteen Smelter Road.”

  “Affirmative,” Monday said. “Let’s go.” As we took off towards Toby’s Monday said, “So how do you know this guy?”

  “He was my last client,” I said. “He was being blackmailed.”

  “By who?”

  “He didn’t know. All he had was an address where they showed him the pictures.”

  “Where was that?”

  “Some crappy long term hotel.”

  “Maybe we should swing by there later.”

  “It was empty save for the safe, but maybe.” Yeah, maybe. But probably not. I wasn’t going to be seen in the muck drinking from the same bottle as a cop. I was unpopular enough with the black capes as it stood. “But let’s hit Toby’s place and see what he can tell us first.”

  About thirty minutes later we pulled up at Toby’s spot on Smelter. It was a landed home, with a small yard and two stories that didn’t run up on the neighbors. Nice for any city, but in Gold Coast you’d have to be pulling down a hefty six figures to hang your hat inside these walls. Which meant I should’ve charged him a higher fee.

  We walked up to the door. Monday rang the bell and said, “Police.”

  There was no answer.

  “Maybe he’s gone,” I said.

  “Could be that-”

  The sound of crashing glass came from inside.

  I leaned over the stoop and looked through the window. There, in the middle of the dining room, was all three hundred pounds of Toby Teenie.

  “Son of a bitch.” I shoved Monday aside and kicked the door open. Then I ran in and stared down at my former client. “Hey Toby. Long time.”

  The little fat man was shaking like jello. “Hey Dane, guess you still haven’t got the lock picking thing down, huh?”

  “Can it. Who’d you give that nitro-tri-phosphorus to?”

  “What?” He took a step back. “How do you… I don’t know.”

  “Hear that Monday, he don’t know.”

  Monday strode past me and pulled his handcuffs. “Fine by me. He can wag his tale at the booking sergeant. Toby Teenie, you’re under arrest for the illegal transport and sale of a controlled substance. You have the right to remain silent.”

  “Wait, I had no choice.” Toby walked backwards, stumbled over his own feet, and fell to the floor. He was breathing heavy, and sweating harder than when he had a Thompson waving at him a few nights back. “I was being blackmailed. All they wanted was a gallon of ni-tri. And I gave it to them.”

  “The sergeant’s going to be so happy. He loves stories like this,” Monday said. “You have the right to an attorney.”

  “No.” Toby pointed one of his ten sausage links my way. “Ask him, he got the pictures back for me.”

  Monday turned to me and I said, “Yeah. But I didn’t know he traded the ni-tri for them.”

  “So you sent them the juice,” Monday said. “Was that it?”

  “No. They started asking for more things. Explosives that could make it through metal detectors and fool sniffer dogs. I didn’t want to be responsible for anything else, so I got ahold of you.”

  “Who?” Monday asked. “Who did you give the ni-tri to? What did he look like?”

  “I never saw his face. But I know his name’s Victor. I met him once when he showed me the pictures.”

  “You didn’t hand him the ni-tri directly?”

  “They had me send the canister to a shipping warehouse called North Point, but I got no clue where it went after that.”

  “North Point.” I turned to Monday. “That’s where Bundy Strong works.”

  “Let’s go.” Monday turned and left.

  But I stopped. “Is there anything else?”

  Toby looked up at me. “Yeah, I mean, it’s… I told them to store it in inert gas for the maximum explosion. But that would actually stifle the blast. Not entirely, but, you know, pretty good. So I didn’t just-”

  “Inert?” I said. “Like helium?”

  “Yeah, it’s-”

  “Thanks.” I ran out the door. Firm in the knowledge that this was all wrapped up with Swamp. And his friend Vec. Was he the guy with the Thompson under the bridge? If so, he had telekinesis, not strength. But TK wouldn’t help him cut the lasers at Wentorf Hall, so it didn’t link them with the murder, only the tools the boys had, and the attempt on Mayor Greenie. I had the rotten feeling that this changed things very little. There was still someone in the middle of it all, pulling the strings.

  “Bundy Strong,” Monday said. He was standing next to his open car door. “That’s who you’re thinking.”

  “I am. But there might be someone else involved. We’ll check it out after we locate Bundy.”

  “I doubt he’s still at North Point.”

  “Let’s go find out.”

  We put the miles behind us fast. But upon arrival we were greeted by an unfamiliar sight. The warehouse’s gate was blocked by a police barricade and two uniformed officers. Beyond them were a bunch of vans.

  “Hold up,” the nearest cop said.

  “What’s going on here?” I asked.

  “We’re holding the perimeter. The Special Powers Extraction Commission have a perp trapped inside.”

  “Is it Bundy Strong?” Monday asked.

  “No,” the guy said. “It’s the chick who tried to kill Mayor Greenie last night. They’re about to go in and skin her alive.”

  Chapter 37

  Doodle? What was my kid still doing in town? And why was she in North Point? Was she wrapped up with Bundy? What the hell was going on?

  Monday said to the cop, “Move the blockade. We’re going in.”

  “I wouldn’t,” he said, “unless you got some serious body armor.”

  Monday motioned towards me. “I do. Let’s go.”

  The cop slid the barrier aside and we drove down to the lot where six vans were in a semi-circle. Five of them were black with the word SPEC written on their sides, but the last one was larger and red. It had walls lined with Trumite and was used to transport black capes to and from Impenetron. And I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. That was a dragon wagon, and no black cape who’d ever been tossed in one came out of their own accord.

  Monday parked behind it, and we hopped out to join the SPECs. They were all in black armor, with their rifles pointed inwards.

  “Are they packing darts?” I said.

  “The SPECs?” Monday said. “No. The blackguard may roll with viper vapor like us, but their bullets are all armor piercers. Commander Waters, what’s the sit-rep?”

  Waters turned around. “Monday. Great. We got a report on a young girl, brown hair, slight frame. Fits the description of Greenie’s assassin. Now we’re waiting on the water units. Once baywatch gets here we’re going in with both balls swinging and taking that dumb bitch down.”

  I said, “She was smart enough to slip you guys last night.”

  Waters turned to me. His eyes got thin. “Who’s the ogre?”

  Monday said, “An investigator helping with gems.”

  “A
diamond dick?” Waters said. “He looks familiar.”

  Maybe it was the tape across my nose, the black eye, or the bandaged cheek, but he couldn’t place my mug, though I knew his. “I get that a lot.”

  “Yeah, I bet you-”

  “Gunboats are in place,” Waters’ radio squawked. “You’re go for assault.”

  Waters slapped his helmet down and turned to the rest of the SPECs. “Team, on my six. Lethal force is a go. Capture if you can, but kill if you must.”

  The commandos yelled their assent and got behind their leader. Together they charged across the lot to the building, and lined up against the wall with their guns primed. Waters opened the door and peeked in. Then he slipped inside, and the rest of his men followed like a black asp sliding into a rabbit hole.

  It would take a few minutes for them to find anything. I took that time to glance around the lot and get the lay of the land. And right behind us, sitting on a nearby hill maybe fifty yards away, was a black sedan with that same chunk missing from its front bumper. “Son of a bitch. Scourge.”

  Monday snapped his eyes off the building and put them on me. “Where?”

  I motioned towards the car. “Up there.”

  “Well I’ll be. Did he follow us here or was he already-”

  Automatic fire burst from inside the warehouse. And three SPECs blew through the outer wall. They landed on the concrete rough and stayed still as more gunfire erupted from inside.

  “That’s my cue,” I said.

  “Wait,” Monday yelled.

  I charged across the lot, jumped over the three unconscious SPECs, then pounced through the hole they made.

  And landed in the middle of a full swing melee.

  Chalky smoke was everywhere. Eight SPECs were pinned down behind two different piles of lumber. Waters, with three men, was on the left, while the other four were on the right. Some were firing around the sides of their cover. Others over top. Whoever they were aiming at was returning it with gusto. The lead was thick in the air. A series of blasts clipped both wooden mounds and sent splinters sailing.

  “Stand fast,” Waters yelled.

  “Is anyone hit?” another screamed.

  “No, we’re ok.”

  “What’s the order, sir?”

  Waters glanced around the lumber, then ducked back down. “On my command, you men follow me, the rest lay down suppressive fire. Now!”

  The SPECs on the right started blasting as Waters charged from the cover with his men close to heels. Gunshots rang out.

  One of the SPECs who remained behind turned to me and said, “Who are you?”

  “I’m-” was all I got out before a grenade landed between us. “Get down,” I said, and dove away as it exploded. But the blast was small. And instead of shrapnel it filled the air with more thick, white smoke. I couldn’t see much farther than a few feet ahead. But out of the mist staggered a SPEC holding his throat. “That bitch… bit me.” He fell to the ground and started to jerk.

  I pulled his hand back and there, thick and deep, were twin bite marks.

  And I knew. The slight brunette dame they were after wasn’t my kid.

  It was Gunmetal Gray.

  Which meant the SPECs were on their own.

  I turned and took a step towards the exit. But then a high-pitched shriek cut the air. The roof started to shake. And it burst open, dropping debris all around.

  Wait. That was Tera.

  And if Tera was here, then Doodle was too. Along with Gunmetal Gray.

  I pulled my pistols and charged into the smoke.

  When I cleared the other side there were three bodies on the ground. All SPECs. None moving.

  I ran past them and down the same aisle I’d chased Bundy Strong through two days before. When I got to the end I stopped, and peeked around the corner. Standing in front of the exit to the wet dock was a tiny woman with her back to me.

  Quiet as I could I pointed my Kapowitzer at her spine. All I had to do was shoot. Then I’d deal with Scourge. I depressed the trigger. And Lois’ bracers wrapped tight around my arm.

  But before I could fire she spun around, saw me, and raised her pistol.

  “Doodle?” I said.

  “Dane?” My daughter lowered her gun. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Saving you from Gunmetal.”

  “I don’t need your help, I’m… Wait, Gunmetal’s here?” She searched the room frantic.

  “I thought so,” I said, and put away Lois. “One of the SPECs-”

  “Sketch,” Tera yelled from the wet dock. “Let’s go.”

  “Sorry. Got to bail.” Doodle turned and ran out the door.

  I gave chase. But my daughter was swift. She was already halfway to the same yellow jetboat Bundy tried to get away on. Only this time Tera was at the helm.

  And she was already sailing away.

  Doodle sprinted down the dock after her.

  And I followed fast. Opening my stride and pumping both arms I somehow managed to reach out and grab her wrist. “Stop,” I said.

  Doodle jerked to a halt and turned to me. “Let go. We have to leave.”

  “Not until you tell me why you’re here. And how do you know Gunmetal? What’s going on?”

  Tera yelled, “Sketch, hurry.” She gunned the engines and her jetboat raced towards the open water.

  Doodle yanked. “I said let me go.”

  “No.”

  “I’m warning you.” The cobra tattoo she had on her wrist sat up and bit my hand.

  Even though the fangs did nothing I pulled my hand back. Cursing my reflexes I reached out again.

  But Doodle was already out of reach, running down the dock screaming, “Mom, wait.”

  “No,” Tera said, “you hurry.”

  Doodle listened. She was moving like a gazelle.

  I followed like a rhino.

  But it didn’t matter. Tera was already sailing past the end of the pier. Doodle wasn’t going to make it. But she didn’t know that. And instead of slowing down she charged by the cement column and leapt. My kid soared through the air like a bird, and somehow managed to catch the edge of the boat. Right in her gut. She folded over the side with both legs splashing into the water.

  Tera didn’t even look back. But she did speed up.

  Doodle kicked at the boat’s hull, trying to push herself up, as white water crashed over her knees. The waves sucked her down. But she grabbed the edge of the vessel with one hand and held on. Right as more ocean surged over her. So much that she disappeared. And I couldn’t tell if she was still clinging, or floating in the bay. But then, out from under the surf, my kid pulled herself up. She tossed one leg over the side of the boat. Then the other. And she made it in.

  As the boat sped away Doodle turned around and yelled something.

  I didn’t catch it.

  From the left a police cutter ripped through the waves after them. It came up close behind. Tera turned and released a piercing scream. The cop boat shook. Then it fell apart and sank beneath the waves. I couldn’t spot any men floating, but-

  “Out of the way!”

  I turned around to see Monday. He shoved me aside and aimed his pistol at my daughter. Her boat was moving faster now. But he was leading it slow. And while she was way far out I didn’t like the way this felt. So I swatted Monday’s gun, knocking it into the water.

  He glowered at me. “What’s wrong with you? That’s the girl who tried to kill the mayor.”

  I watched the yellow boat shrink as it headed north. And once it vanished I turned and walked back down the dock.

  “God damn it, do you know what you’ve just done?” Monday ran over and grabbed my shoulder. He spun me around and got in my grill. “Do you?”

  “Yeah,” I said, “I just saved my-”

  An explosion came from behind, and its blast smashed me into Monday. Together we tumbled down the dock, stopping after a few yards. Rubble began to rain down. The sharp sleet hissed as it fell and sandblasted my exposed ski
n. I covered my eyes as larger pieces started to land. A softball of concrete crashed to the right. Then, a few feet to my left, an anvil size chunk shredded the dock and plunged into the water.

  I scrambled to Monday and threw my body over his.

  But then the hard rain ceased. And a loud creaking rose up. With Monday still beneath me I looked back. The whole warehouse teetered towards us and, like a tidal wave, crashed down. I braced against the dock as the avalanche of metal and cement consumed us. It took a long while for the rumbling to stop.

  When the deluge subsided, I was surrounded by darkness. What little air I had was dusty and hot. And there wasn’t enough of it to go around. I had to move. Putting a whole lot of effort into my arms I pressed up. And some of the jetsam slid aside. It gave me enough room to slip a foot underneath my body. And once I was stable I shoved up, and cleared the debris off us entirely.

  I looked around. The building was gone. Dust was everywhere. Below me Monday lay still. That spot on his flank was bleeding again. Not bad, but some. I checked his pulse and found it rhythmic enough to give me relief. But he was definitely taking an extended trip to the land of Nod.

  Probably couldn’t say that about every cop inside the rubble.

  I scanned the ocean for a sign of Doodle. But she was gone.

  Again.

  Chapter 38

  I pulled Monday’s car keys out of his pocket. It was time to vanish. Voices were coming from inside the wrecked warehouse, but there was enough smoke, dust, and piles of debris that I couldn’t see who they belonged to. And that meant they couldn’t see me. Meaning to keep it that way I ran down the dock, and took a left, circling around the outer wall, some of which was still standing. Crouching low I moved fast, and the voices from the other side of the rubble grew louder.

  “Get an ambulance down here.”

  “Are there any survivors?”

  “Someone call a K-9 unit.”

  Confusion. Fear. My old friends. Thanks to them it would take a tick before the remaining men got organized. Just enough time for me to Houdini up out of here.

  I reached the end of the wall and peered around it. Everyone was looking for survivors, leaving the SPEC vans and the dragon wagon unguarded. Next to them was Monday’s car.