The Coconut Swindle (Black Cape Case Files Book 2)

by Matt Abraham

  “You’re supposed to say ‘Dane Curse Detective Agency.’”

  As silences go this one had teeth, and it chewed on the air between us for quite a while before Monday said, “Where are you, you son of a bitch?”

  “That all depends. How many people are in there with you?”

  “Zero.” He growled more than spoke. “It’s just me.”

  “Really? Still fixing to lay iron on a black cape sans backup?”

  “No. But after getting dumped in the bay, that disastrous car chase, and failing to apprehend a cop killer assassin, not even the dispatcher trusts me, so I’m here solo. And when you come in I’m going to slap some Trumite cuffs on you solo. And if need be I’ll drag you to Impenetron solo. I hear they’ve got a hole I can throw you down that’s so deep you’ll die of old age before you hit bottom.”

  “I bet starvation would get me first.”

  There was more silence. “You’re not going to be so jokey when I lay my mitts on you. The first thing I’ll do is-”

  “I hate to stop you, but instead of making what’s sure to go into the Threat Hall of Fame, why don’t we go nab the guys who killed those two kids, and retrieve the Coconut so I can solve my case and you can be a SPEC,” I said, “just like we agreed?”

  “Retrieve the Coconut?” Monday said. “The Coconut’s safe in the museum.”

  “Actually,” I said, “it’s not.”

  #

  I explained everything to Monday as fast as I could. It actually sounded more unbelievable out loud than it did in my head. And after I strained his credulity beyond any reasonable man’s belief, I threw in a request for two items that could only be found in Gold Coast Police Headquarters.

  All in all, I had to say, he took it pretty well.

  “Really, your daughter?” he said. “Alright, I can’t believe it, but I’m in. Meet me on the museum steps in thirty minutes.”

  “Make it ten.” I hung up the phone, ran down to my car, and raced there as fast as I could.

  Monday, true to his word, was waiting out front where we first met.

  “Hey,” I said. “Did you get what I asked for?”

  “It wasn’t easy.” He pat his chest. “But yeah.”

  “Great. And the curator’s here?”

  “Ms. Johan’s waiting inside, but I wouldn’t expect to see her happy.”

  “She’s about to get a lot less.”

  We walked up the steps, through the gold gates, beneath Poseidon’s gaze, and into Wentorf Hall where a very tall, very serious looking woman was waiting. She was fortyish, with blond hair and gray eyes, and had one arm in a cast, bandages on her chin, cheek, and legs, and a brace around her neck. Ms. Johan said, “Why am I here?”

  “For the Coconut.” I walked up to the diamond’s display. “Is it for sale?”

  She turned to Monday. “Officer, if this is some sort of ruse, I’m not laughing.”

  “He’s a detective,” I said, “and it’s not a joke. In fact, after you hear what I’ve got to say you’ll be crying so hard that by the time the waterworks shut off you’ll be desiccated enough to pass for one of your mummies. Hell, you’ve already got the bandages.”

  Even when wounded she looked haughty as hell giving me the up and down. “And why, exactly, is that?”

  “Because,” I said, “that’s a fake. The Vandenberg Coconut’s been stolen.”

  “You must be mad,” she said.

  I motioned to the rock. “Then shuck that shell, and show me just how nuts it is.”

  “This is a waste of time.” Johan turned to go.

  “No, it’s not. And if you walk out that door now you’ll find out I’m right during your biweekly audit of the displays with law enforcement on one side and insurance vultures on the other. Imagine the headlines.” I spread an imaginary banner above my head. “Dr. Johan’s Shredded Coconut Security Surprise. Catchy ring to it. Who do you think’ll play you in the TV movie? With your bone structure I’d say-”

  “That’s enough,” Johan said. The anger was still there. Only now there was some curious fear as well. “You have exactly one minute to convince me before I make an official complaint to the police department.”

  “Monday,” I said, “start the clock. Ok, so a few nights ago a team of three black capes came in to steal the Vandenberg Coconut, a-”

  “There were only two,” Johan said.

  “No. You only found two. There was also a guy named Vector who can manipulate gravitational fields. And together the trio snuck up the outer wall, through the vent, and down to the floor quick as can be thanks to how light Vector made them. From there Firewall opens the door-”

  “I know all this,” Johan said, “but the inner alarms couldn’t be shut off because he’d need to touch the controls directly.”

  “Which is exactly what happened,” I said. “Vector escorted him through the room by making them both light enough to walk over the pressure sensitive tiles and-”

  “But the lasers, they would’ve intersected the beams and set off the alarm.”

  “They had a gravitational field around them so…” I looked at the cop. “Monday?”

  He was nodding with both eyes on his watch. “Light bends.”

  “Exactly. By encapsulating them both with the field, Vector was able to bend the beams around their bodies without cutting them and setting off the alarm.” Like he did earlier with my Kapowitzer’s narrow blast.

  Johan’s face was losing blood.

  I felt bad. But continued anyway. “And then all that stood in their way was the Kessel Glass, which Firewall unlocked and Vector made light enough to lift. Then they plucked the diamond like a mote from your eye and replaced it with a fake. Probably some high tensile glass, but whatever, with the booty snatched, and the decoy in place, Vector pinned both boys to the deactivated ground sensors and sprayed them with the nitro-tri-phosphorus he’d brought. Then he dropped the canister along with some filament to complete the scene, confident that if anyone did notice the deception they certainly wouldn’t care.”

  Johan looked at the case.

  “But they still had one issue,” I said. “You.”

  And she snapped back to me.

  “Didn’t you think it was strange that you were the only one hurt at the gala?”

  “I was standing near Mayor-”

  “That explosion wasn’t aimed at Greenie. They needed you out of the picture so no one would be able to check on the diamond’s authenticity for weeks. Maybe months. And by then the ice would be in someone else’s freezer, far from here.” I glanced at Monday. “Time?”

  “Fifty-eight, fifty-nine.” The cop looked up from his watch. “And sixty.”

  Johan may’ve been wrapped in gauze and plaster casts, but the worry lines cut deep in her brow looked far more painful. They twisted on her face, shifting back and forth like fault lines, before she finally said, “Ok.”

  “Ok what?” I said.

  “I’ll open it. But we’ll have to wait hours before it’s high enough to check the diamond. Maybe if we call in Al Mighty or Retroflex-”

  “Retroflex is out of town,” Monday said, “and Al Mighty’s laid up with pneumonia thanks to a lungful of water.”

  Ha. “Don’t worry,” I said. “Just get that glass up an inch and I’ll handle the rest.”

  “You can do that?” Johan said.

  “Come on. Chop chop.”

  Johan pulled the purple curtain next to the display aside, opened the panel there, and punched the digits on the pad like she was making a collect call to Moscow. Behind the wall there was some clicking. Then some groaning. And the Kessel Glass rose one inch.

  I walked to its center, spat on my hands, and slid all ten fingers into the gap. I turned to Johan and said, “You know, this would be so much more fun if that rock was authentic.”

  “We won’t know that for certain until you do your duty,” she said.

  “I hear and obey, memsahib.” I took a deep breath. And lifted. The massive pi
ece of Kessel Glass slid up one whole foot.

  Johan stepped to my side. “Isn’t that heavy?”

  “What? Yeah, but the longer I hold it the lighter it gets.”

  “Really?”

  “Grab the rock already,” I said.

  Johan slipped her hands inside and pulled out the diamond. “Good lord, he’s right.”

  I dropped the pane and looked at her.

  She was staring at the shining orb, her face as grotesque as any gargoyle’s.

  “How can you tell?” Monday said.

  “The weight. The weight alone. It’s too light. This is a fake diamond. What’ll I do?”

  “The only thing you can.” I extended a hand. “Pass it to me.”

  Her look was a frantic one. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I’ll take that dud and trade it for the real one.”

  “How?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Her eyes got real slim. And she chewed her lower lip. I’d seen the look before. On a lot of people. But it’s always scariest on a dame.

  “Monday,” I said. “Could you give us a moment? The curator and I need to discuss something.”

  He looked to Johan.

  She didn’t say a word.

  “Ok. I’ll be by the cars.” He turned and disappeared through the door.

  “Now,” I said, “let’s get down to brass tacks.”

  “Yes, lets.” Johan pulled out a small device from her pocket, and pressed the button on its side.

  All three exits slammed shut with doors made from unbreakable Trumite. And through the thick metal I could hear locks clicking.

  The potentate’s jewel box was now shut tight.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I said.

  “I’m capturing the man who stole the Vandenberg Coconut.”

  Chapter 45

  Johan was grinning. Why, I had no clue. She clearly thought she knew something I didn’t, but truthfully, I could read her thoughts like they were tattooed on her forehead in a triple digit font. “You don’t really think this’ll work, do you?”

  “Pinning the whole farce on you? Most definitely.”

  I strolled to the middle of the room and looked around. “Really? You think the white capes will pick me up and all you got to do is slide that back into place so during your next audit, when it’s revealed as a fraud, you can blame the whole thing on me?”

  “Of course, by then-”

  “Stop. Just stop. You know, you’re as bad as any black cape I’ve met. You’re all thick. You’re all sad. And you’re all deeply infected.”

  “With what, exactly?”

  “With dark hope. I can see it in your eyes like I’ve seen it in a thousand others. You got the bloody bad optimism of amateur crooks who think they won’t get caught because they’re child-of-destiny special. But here’s the thing, no one’s that special. And when that rock’s made for the scam-zanite it is, you’ll be blamed. Those bandages will net you no sympathy, and you can alibi yourself to I-didn’t-do-it-istan, but they’ll peg you for a thief or a fool, and they’ll be right on one of those counts. But by then it’ll be too late, because nobody will believe the truth: that this wasn’t an inside job.”

  There are cats with a mouthful of mouse that don’t look so satisfied as Johan did. “After that attack the mayor feels very inclined to help me, and when I tell him my side, the one your kindly Officer Monday will happily corroborate, I’ll be blame free, but you’ll be-”

  “Wait, that’s your hole card? Detective Monday? Lying?” I threw back my head and laughed so loud I’m surprised none of the displays cracked. “The guy whose life I saved twice? The guy who tried to prosecute a cop over Mr. Boogety’s murder? You’re expecting him. To bend. For you? I’m liking my chances more every second.”

  Johan stayed silent, and her expression doesn’t have a description.

  “Look, I’ll give you one last chance. Hand over the fake and I’ll return your diamond. I can. I promise. But I have to move now.”

  She gazed down at the crystal ball she held. “No. I like my plan better.”

  “Fine.” I took two big steps and towered over her. Then I pulled Lois. My Kapowitzer jumped to life with a bright green glow. “See this, you Sasquatch? This here’s the most powerful handgun ever made, and it can sear a hole through Trumite. Not a big one, mind you, and it has to be a thin sheet, but a hole nonetheless. So imagine what it can do to you. Go on. Imagine.”

  Johan stared at my pistol with real big eyes.

  “Good,” I said. “Now forget about that because I’m not going to shoot you. I’m going to beat you against that door until you’re dead or it opens because you’re the only two things standing between me and my daughter. Now I want you to pay attention like you never have before and listen to every word I’m about to say. I’m taking that fake and leaving this place. You can’t stop me. The SPECs can’t stop me. Even Team Supreme can’t stop me. Now give it here. I got things to do.”

  #

  I walked down the museum steps to find Monday leaning against my car.

  I held up the fake rock. “Better than that sly fake around Anubis, huh?”

  “It’s impressive for certain. What about the other things, you want them now?”

  I opened my door and tossed the Vandenberg Faux-conut into the passenger seat. “Yeah. Please.”

  Monday pulled off his jacket, tie, and shirt until he was just wearing a black vest.

  “That the same one you had on the night I shot you with the stunner?”

  “Affirmative.” He ripped the shoulder velcro off, and handed it over. “Now remember, it can absorb a lot of juice, but only from a direct hit.”

  I disrobed until I was completely naked above the belt, tossed my threads on the hood of my car, and slipped the vest on. “Got it.”

  As I re-buttoned the white shirt beneath my gray jacket Monday said, “I’m not kidding. If that broad gives you a jolt in the arm or the leg it won’t protect you.”

  I put my black overcoat on, then tightened my tie. “But if her electricity hits dead center?”

  “Then you’ll be fine.”

  “Huzzah,” I said. “And that other thing?”

  Monday pulled his pistol, popped open the cylinder, and removed a Trumite dart.

  “Thanks.” I took it and poured the tranquilizer onto the sidewalk. Then I reached into my jacket, removed Widow’s vial of anti-venom, and poured half of it into the dart. Capping both tight, I placed them in my shirt pocket.

  “So where to now?” Monday said.

  “Uptown. York Avenue.”

  “How many black capes are waiting for you?”

  “Two.”

  “Two, huh? That doesn’t sound like a day at the fair,” Monday said.

  I opened my door. “Like a cop once told me, life’s not a fair.” I hopped in. And rolled down the window. “Where’s your sled?”

  “A few cars back. I’ll give you some room, but don’t get too far out ahead.”

  “No problem. Just don’t follow me down York. If you get made I don’t think we’ll see the real Coconut ever again.”

  “You know, York’s a dead end.”

  “So are most of the streets I’ve travelled. Just hang back at the opening. If I fall, and Scourge gets out, I’m going to need someone to save-”

  “The diamond.”

  “No,” I said. “Something far more precious.” I put my keys into the ignition.

  “Hey,” Monday said. “I never thanked you for saving my life.”

  “Yeah you did, right before the ambulance arrived.”

  “No, back at North Point. I know you blocked that rubble, and I… I appreciate the effort.”

  I looked up at Monday. He was a good man. An honest cop. I said, “Shut up already. Let’s go.”

  He walked back to his car and I pulled into traffic.

  Next stop, Scourge.

  Chapter 46

  Thirty minutes later I
turned down York. There were no streetlights to illuminate my path, but I could still make out the run down row homes that stood shoulder-to-shoulder on both sides of the street. I crept along at five miles an hour, looking left and right for an ambush. I didn’t know when Scourge would make his move, but on this road there wasn’t a bad place for it. The only witnesses would be the army of unseen rats and roaches, and a single rusted out car on the sidewalk.

  But I got to the end in one piece, and turned around, parking with my nose facing out in case I needed to make a quick getaway. At the other end of the block Monday drove by without a glance. He’d go another few yards and wait. For me, or Scourge. But not both. Because tonight one of us was going to die.

  And it was going to be him.

  After all, my plan wasn’t half bad. I’d walk in there with the Faux-conut, hand it over, and when Scourge reaches for it I’d grab him like a human shield, then put a hole through Gunmetal’s skull. But if she blasted me, all the better. I’d pretend to be wounded, and when she drops her guard, do the deed then. Even if she got a bite in, so be it, Widow’s anti-venom would handle it courtesy of Monday’s Trumite dart.

  And then, it’d be just me and Scourge. I’d promise not to turn his head into a warm slurry if he slides me Doodle’s address. And once he did, I’d break that promise, thump the whole story out of him, go get my daughter, return the Coconut to Monday, and tell Widow what really happened the night her brother died.

  Like I said, a good plan.

  I got out of the car with the fake diamond and did the self pat down. Both guns were ready. I had the dart and half full vial in my shirt pocket. I even had a lock pick. Not that I’d need it. The front door was wide open. I took the eight steps up the stoop and walked in.

  And found myself in a long hallway. At the other end was a door. Nothing stood between me and it besides some creaky floor boards and two burning light bulbs with wattage in the single digits.

  When I got to the end I kicked open the door and stepped into a dark room with no furniture and an old carpet. Scourge was on the far side, still in black with his scars and weird eye below a dark derby, while leaning in the corner was Gunmetal, wearing all black as well. She said, “Didn’t think you’d show.”