The Coconut Swindle (Black Cape Case Files Book 2)

by Matt Abraham

  I thought about charging into a stolen diamond auction with Monday on my elbow and the GCCPD at my back. They wouldn’t do much to stop whoever was in there. Blood would definitely flow, most of it blue. And of course it would cement my status as a turn cape. “No,” I said, “let me get the lay first. If I need help, I’ll fire off a shot.”

  “Fine. One gunshot and we’re lobbing enough knockout gas through the windows to bring down a stampede.”

  “It’s a plan.” I ripped off the door to the candy shop and ran through to its back room. There was an old, dilapidated refrigerator in the corner. Shoving it aside revealed a rectangular hole, and steps that led down into darkness. I took them, and the yellow orbs of Tunnel Town lit up at my feet, illuminating the way. When I got to the bottom I ran through the red rock corridor, and in less than a minute I was taking the stairs up to Crush. There was a large, metal door. I pushed against it, but the thing was stuck. I threw my shoulder into it and nothing. Then I gave it a kick.

  The boom echoed down the tunnel, but the door didn’t give. Gunmetal’s venom, it was still working a number on me. So I reached for Rico, but stopped. Not because of Monday’s warning about the gas. No, I was more leery of charging into a room full of black capes buying illicit materials with my Thumper out. They’d be jumpier than frogs in a coffee pond, and my daughter wasn’t bulletproof.

  So I took a deep breath and concentrated. Then I cocked back, and punched the door as hard as I could. It blasted off the hinges and slid to the far wall.

  I charged through the opening. And into Crush’s kitchen. Not breaking stride I moved into the main room. The stale smell of must filled the cavernous room along with scattered, broken furniture. Beyond all the flotsam, in the far left corner, was a raised, circular stage.

  Gathered around it, on the club’s floor, was a collection of black capes. There were fewer than I expected, but what they lacked in numbers was more than made up for in power.

  Nearest to me was my gal pal, Dastard Lee. She had Psy-ball, her onyx barman, with her, and they were flanked by those twin giantesses from Henchmen’s: the black beauty queen Kalamity, and Slamazon, the pasty dish of dog’s dinner. Both had mini-chain guns strapped to them.

  To the right was a nasty piece of work known as Manfred Mayhem. He was my size, made of German muscle, and wore black slacks and a black t-shirt. But his eyes were bright white and burned with nuclear fire. Behind him stood two men in suits I’d never seen, each holding a large, wooden chest.

  On my left, standing alone, was Perry Mortem. He wore an old-fashioned top hat and a green Victorian suit with tails, and he was leaking dark magic into the air like a squid does ink.

  Finally, on the other side of the room, closest to the stage, was my old friend and missing fake cape, Bundy Strong, holding a large suitcase.

  I looked around again. No Scourge. No Swamp. No Vector.

  That was a relief.

  But the consolation was short lived. Because at the end of the stage the moldy curtains parted and out walked Tera with my little girl on her elbow. And in my cute kid’s hand, as big as a bowling ball and sparkling like the promise of prom night, was the one and only Vandenberg Coconut.

  Chapter 50

  “I’m glad you could be here,” Tera said in her Tagalog tinged accent. “For the bidding war of the century.”

  “I’m not bidding on anything,” Bundy said and looked my way, “until the curse among us is lifted.”

  “Get bent,” I said.

  Perry Mortem spoke in a way that was half dandy, half mortician. “I concur with our strong friend.”

  “Ja.” Manfred Mayhem had more kraut in his words than they do in Dusseldorf. “No turn capes here.”

  Bundy I couldn’t have been less scared of, but the other two men were hitters of the heaviest means. Despite that, the one thing I’ve learned about black capes is they always mistake kindness for weakness, so I pointed a finger at them and said, “Button your lips before I fatten them. Lee, where we at?”

  “Bidding war,” she said, “and it’s about to get hot.”

  I passed my gaze over the gathered villainy. “So I see. How’d you all hear about this?”

  Lee said, “I got a telegram, along with every other gold laden diamond devotee around. How’d you get in here?”

  “Tunnel Town,” I said. “And thanks so much for passing the info about this on to me.”

  “I tried, but your office line-”

  “Enough chatter,” Tera said, “get him out of here.”

  Slamazon pointed her chain gun at me. “Glad to.”

  I swatted her heater aside. “Stifle it, plugly.”

  “Slam. Be easy,” Lee said. “This ain’t the place to go all slap happy.”

  “Listen to your boss,” I said. “And-”

  “Why are you here, anyway?” Bundy said.

  “To protect my kid. From the cops outside waiting to raid this place.”

  The collected capes didn’t show fear. But there was concern. Or confusion.

  Mayhem glanced around. “There are cops outside?”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Tera said, “this is just another one of his ploys.”

  Lee looked at me. “Is it?”

  “Sorry Lee, it’s no ploy. Have Psy-ball take a peek out front.”

  Lee gave a nod and the kid ran to the window. The panes of glass were blacked out, but he peered against the wall and looked to the left and right. Then he turned back around. “Dane’s right. There’s a bunch of cops out there. No lights, no barricades, but cars and mortars. About four blocks back.”

  The room started to mull about.

  Lee was loud. Her lips curled nasty. “You brought the cops with you?”

  “Damn snitch,” Mayhem said.

  Perry Mortem covered his mouth with a black kerchief. “Such a scabby fink, bringing the constables.”

  I raised my hands. “Lee, Jerry, Fancy Pants, you got it all wrong. They-”

  Mayhem loosed a white blast from his right eye. It struck my shoulder. I flew backwards, hit the ground, and skidded to a stop. “Always the hard way,” I said, and jumped to my feet. I reached for Rico. But the spot where Mayhem hit me throbbed. I looked at my shoulder. The clothes there were burnt away. The skin was blackened and bubbly. I grit my teeth, pushed the pain aside, and went for my piece.

  But before I could snatch it Perry Mortem said, “No, I think not.” He stepped out from the shadows behind me, and wrapped his hands around my face, covering both eyes.

  And my world turned black. I couldn’t see a thing. I spun around and swung my left hand through him. It was like running into a cold patch in a warm pool. My whole arm went numb. I grabbed it and shuffled back. “You got it wrong,” I said, still blind. “I’m here to help.”

  “Help this.” It was Slamazon. And her strike came in hard across my chin. My formerly split lip tore open. Blood filled my mouth, and I stumbled away.

  “And this.” Kalamity joined her friend. And drove what felt like a kick into my gut. The air blasted from my lungs as I collapsed to the floor. But they didn’t let me rest long. One of those broads snatched me up and held me tight while the other one tucked in for a workout. First she jabbed my nose, breaking it again. Then drove a hook into my temple. And kicked my junk for good measure.

  I went limp in the arms of whoever had me. My face was wet. The body beneath it swam in nausea.

  “Kill him already.” I couldn’t see Bundy, but the glee in his voice was evident.

  “As you request.” It was Perry Mortem. He pulled me free from the mystery dame’s clutches, then wrapped both hands around my neck. The skin there went icy numb. I tried to swallow some air. But nothing happened. Pressure built behind both eyes. It was like my head was a water balloon, and Perry was squeezing more liquid up into it. Bursting was imminent.

  But then, “Let him be, Perry. Or we’ll see what’s what.”

  There was a long pause. Finally Mortem said, “Very well, Lee. Since
we are the oldest of friends.” The building pressure eased. Then the hands released my throat. And my skull returned to its resting state of painfulness as I flopped to the ground.

  The bitty patter of tiny feet came scurrying my way. And the familiar voice of Dastard Lee said, “What’s up, kid? Why’d you drag the fuzz this way?”

  “I didn’t. They were waiting when I arrived. And while there aren’t too many here right now, more are coming, so I’d suggest anyone who doesn’t want to see the inside of Impenetron should rabbit back down the hole to Tunnel Town.”

  “Like fun,” Bundy said. “How about we kill-”

  “Wait,” Lee said. “There are only a handful of bulls out there?”

  A few seconds passed before Psy-ball said, “Yeah Lee, I count eleven all day.”

  “Eleven?” Lee said. “That’s nothing. Give him back his orbs.”

  “Very well,” Perry Mortem said. And with that the black veil over my eyes lifted. The dark dandy was staring down at me with that half mad look he made famous. “There. He can see all this splendidness again. So, shall we commence the bidding?” He slid a hand inside his coat and removed a green duffel, one that was far too big to have been in there. He slipped open the top revealing a whole lot of bound dollar bills. “I’ve brought my fee.”

  “Yeah, let’s.” Bundy clicked open his case and held it up. The thing was lousy with crisp hundreds. “I came to play, too.”

  “Show them, schnell.” Mayhem motioned to his twin monkeys. Each opened their chest and filled the room with gold bullion shine.

  “Excellent,” Tera said. My ex was grinning like a Midwest divorcee on his first trip to a Thai whorehouse. “Now get Dane out of here, and we’ll begin.”

  Every eye turned on me.

  Lee pulled me to my feet. “Sorry, but like your old flame says, it’s time to go. Kalamity, Slamazon.”

  The two broads started my way.

  But Psy-ball jumped in their path. “What the hell?”

  “Stay frigid, kid.” Lee pulled him back. “The muscle’s doing its thing.”

  “No, forget about Dane.” Psy-ball pointed at Bundy. “We got a problem.”

  “What is it?” Lee said.

  “Those bills are marked,” the onyx kid with the big, white eyes said. “With the kind of ultraviolet ink that only cops use.”

  Chapter 51

  Lee spun to Psy-ball. “What did you say?”

  “Those hundreds are marked. He’s undercover,” Psy-ball said.

  Bundy slammed his case shut. “No they’re not.”

  “Yeah they are. And I can still see them.” Psy-ball turned to Lee. “All of them, too. That briefcase is glowing like a Vegas hotel fire.”

  Kalamity stepped forward. “Why would they be marked?”

  It was a good question. Why would a fence like Bundy have so many marked bills? Then it hit me, and I looked the scoundrel’s way and said, “I know.”

  Bundy stared into my eyes. “Shut up.”

  “You had those bills marked so the cops could nab Dread Division.”

  He stepped back, hugging the case. “You can’t prove that, maybe I stole them.”

  I pulled out the note I tried giving Psy-ball earlier, and read the date in the corner. “Nope. There hasn’t been a bank job that big in half a decade, and these bills were printed this year. Even so, the cops don’t mark every bill. No. You worked with the law. Had them set up that cash. Then somehow you got Subatomic to use you as a fence, and you gave him a bunch of dirty dollars.”

  Kalamity shook her head. “Why would Bundy set up your old team?”

  “Because,” I said, “he needed us out of the way so he could steal the Coconut.”

  “What?” Mayhem said, “Bundy planned the theft?”

  “No. Scourge did. But Bundy put the team together. It’s his specialty. But to plan the job, execute it, and cover it all, he needed Scourge, who wouldn’t step foot back in town so long as Dread Division was breathing free air.

  “So Bundy called in the big guns: the state. And offered them the team who stormed Top Tower. All of them. Every last one. See, there are a lot of members of Dread Division, and each one got a cut, even the ones that didn’t do the gig, which he knew through Scourge, even though they didn’t have the full roster. So you had the cops mark every. Single. Bill. Only by the time you got to work, I’d moved into the snooping sector.” I squeezed the air from my fists. “Must’ve burnt those biscuits to know one got away. I can’t believe you skimmed that much from the state. If you’d just been less greedy you wouldn’t be holding a case full of evidence that you’re a liar.”

  The room mulled some. But I heard no dissent.

  Until Slamazon said, “Wait. Hold on. Maybe Bundy’s got an excuse.”

  The entire room turned his way.

  Bundy said, “I don’t… He’s not… I don’t know anything about this.”

  “Really, nothing?” I held up my rotten bill. “This one’s got a print on it. You want to prove you never touched this dough? Come on over and let bright eyes here study your nimble pickers.”

  It was brisk inside the dump. But Bundy looked uncomfortably warm.

  “Come on Bundy, prove it,” Slamazon said.

  “Show us,” Mayhem added.

  Bundy looked around. “Listen, maybe I got some ultraviolet ink on my fingers but that… that could happen to anybody. Maybe I…” He trailed off.

  And I didn’t blame him. Who knows where that sentence would’ve ended up? Not the people in the room. They were all silent, down to the last man. Even Tera shut up.

  Finally Kalamity said, “You son of a bitch turn cape no good reg. You did it. You really did it. You’re the one who ratted out Dread Division.”

  “I’m not a reg,” Bundy said, “and so what if I did? I wasn’t alone. We-”

  “You filthy louse,” Lee said. “You know what we did to guys like you in the old days?” She lunged my way, grabbed Rico from his holster, and aimed him at Bundy. “This.”

  “No.” I reached out for my piece.

  But it was too late. Lee blasted away. And the bullet, a high-velocity, struck Bundy’s cheek and spread his thoughts in a red cloud behind him. Then, with his head pumpkin hollow, Bundy dropped his case and fell to the ground.

  “Give me that,” I said and yanked back my iron. “Do you know what you just did? Now we all-”

  “Sorry about banning you. I should’ve… I just shouldn’t have,” Lee said.

  “Yeah,” Kalamity said. “Damn. Sorry. I thought-”

  “Let’s save the apologies for later. The cops are about to start lobbing gas our way. Assuming the SPECs aren’t already here and ready to-”

  “So? Who are the SPECs?” Tera yelled. “Listen up, we got the Coconut here. Bidding starts at five million.”

  “There’s no time,” I said. “A regiment of very-”

  The Kraut said, “Five million.”

  Tera’s eyes were shining. “That’s five million to Manfred Mayhem. Do I hear six?”

  I looked at Doodle. And caught her gaze. I motioned to the exit. She looked at her mom. Then she nodded, and came towards me. But she only got two steps before Tera pulled her back.

  “Six million,” Lee called out.

  Perry Mortem waved his kerchief. “Seven lucky.”

  I yelled, “Hey, cut it out. We got to get moving, otherwise-”

  A metal shell burst through a window on the far wall, and landed on the floor.

  Lee said, “What the hell is that?”

  Out both ends of the canister came a stream of thick, cobalt viper vapor. Above it two more windows exploded as another pair of bombs came bursting in, spitting out the same viscous haze.

  As the smoke filled the room I covered my mouth and said, “Lee, the stuff they’re using is grade-A knockout gas. We got to split.”

  “We can still handle this,” Mayhem said.

  “Absolutely.” Perry rolled up his sleeves. “Just give me the tiniest of
moments.”

  I said, “And what about the team of white capes that’re surely on their way here?”

  The room got quiet.

  “Yeah, you think they’re not coming? The museum knows the Coconut’s been stolen, and the first call their security system makes is to Team Supreme.” I wasn’t sure that was exactly true. After all, I had no clue what Johan had done or who she’d informed. But still I said, “Ok. Ignore me. Just don’t kick yourselves too hard during your own ten year tour of Impenetron after Pinnacle and Glory Anna catch you in a room with the same notes they pinned on Dread Division.”

  All eyes turned to the case lying next to Bundy’s corpse.

  “Damn. Dane’s right,” Lee said. “Mayhem, Mortem, on me.”

  The three formed a triumvirate right there.

  “No.” Tera’s eyes were wild. “We do this now.”

  The gas had filled the far side of the room like a ten-foot snowdrift, and it started rolling our way.

  “Really, Tera?” Lee said. “Not every cape handles night-night juice as well as invulnerables, and I’m one of them.”

  “Me too,” Mayhem said. “So what’s the call, Lee?”

  “Ok. All we got to do to avoid the hoosegow is leave down Tunnel Town together. I know we don’t trust each other completely, but I think instead of going for throats over the diamond now, and dying in prison, we can agree to put off the bloodletting until tomorrow.”

  “What certainty can be offered that none will attempt to filch the gem before the allotted time?” Perry Mortem said.

  “Because if any of us moves on Tera, the other two will clip them clean and clear. Right?” Lee looked at both men.

  “Right,” Mayhem said.

  Perry Mortem smiled. “I believe that reasoning to be sound.”

  “Alright, let’s motor. Together.” Lee and the two mighty black capes charged my way. “Dane, where’s that door to Tunnel Town?”

  I threw a thumb over my shoulder. “Back through the kitchen.”

  “No!” Tera was raging.

  “Let’s skedaddle,” Lee said. Then she, Perry, and Mayhem vanished through the door together as the wave of noxious gas rolled ever closer.