“So?” he said with a shrug. “That doesn’t prove anything.”
It was still raining, and now the scent of acid and chemicals had returned. My eyes were starting to burn. “No, it doesn’t prove you killed him,” I admitted, “which is why I needed you here. I couldn’t prove that you had killed Flick but I knew you were involved somehow. I figured the best way to figure it out was to reenact the events of that night. That’s why I called you down here, at the exact time Flick was murdered.”
Pol shook his head and smirked at me. “You got some kind of mind, Steward. You’re not that smart but things just sorta come together in that fat brain of yours.”
I watched him carefully, my expression grim. The light rain that was falling down the back of my neck was starting to burn my skin. “Why’d you do it?” I said. “What was Flick going to do to you?”
He laughed. “Do to me?” he said. “You’re kidding, right? That two-bit reporter couldn’t hurt a fly. Spent his whole life looking for the big scoop and he was sitting on it all the time.”
“Sitting on it?” I said, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“You haven’t figured it out?” he said. “Seriously? Wow, Hank, I knew you were dumb, but I think you might even be dumber than Flick.”
“Then tell me,” I said. “What difference does it make now? I suppose you’re going to kill me anyway.”
He glanced at the gun in his hand and back at me. “No difference, I suppose. I might as well tell you.” He kept the gun trained on me in his right hand but then held out his left, empty palm facing the sky. My eyebrows narrowed as mischief danced in his eyes. I felt the drizzle burning the skin on my neck. And then it made sense.
“The chemicals?” I said. “The pollution in the lake?”
“Woot! Give the man a cigar.”
“But why… how?”
He wiped his hand off, grinning viciously. “Running a paper’s more trouble than you can imagine. First, you have paper and ink, but that’s not the bad stuff. That can all be recycled. But nobody wants to just read a paper anymore, they want video and sound. They want fae news delivered the same way the humans get it on their computers.”
I considered that. The Sentinel definitely had an edge over other papers with its video technology, but that didn’t have anything to do with chemicals. “It’s enchanted,” I said, perplexed. “It’s magic. There shouldn’t be any chemical waste.”
“Ah see, you’re just proving how ignorant you are, Steward. Magic isn’t an unlimited resource. It’s power. It’s energy. Sure, a fairy creature can cast spells all day long, but how about when that power runs out? How long can a spell last, before that energy is spent?”
“I don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t. You’re a stupid ogre. Nobody knows what it takes to provide the things I give. They don’t care. They just take. Do you know how many papers I print every single day, Steward? Half a million. Every single one of them is enchanted. Every single one has energy and information stored up in it, just like a battery. Do you have any idea how much energy that is?”
“So where does the waste come from?” I said.
“It’s a byproduct of mixing potions and enchantments. The elixir I create gives life to my newspapers, but at a cost. When the energy is used up, what’s left over is a dangerous mix of toxic chemicals and acids.”
I gazed up into the darkness, carefully protecting my eyes with the brim of my hat. “So you just pump your chemical waste down through the ground?” I said. “You just drop it over the lake?”
He shrugged. “Pretty much. It’s a little more complicated than that, mixing it in with the condensation and rainfall on the roof of the undercity so no one will suspect, but you have the idea.”
“How long have you been doing this?” I said.
“Ever since I switched over to the new format five years ago. I knew right away that I had a problem on my hands, but it was either that or lose my business. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“So you decided to pollute the entire undercity?” I said. “You were willing to destroy a massive ecosystem and make people sick, just so your business would be more competitive?”
“Yeah pretty much.” I think he heard the anger in my voice because I saw his grip tightening on his revolver.
“I’ve heard enough,” said a female voice behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Gen materialize out of the shadows under the docks. She came out with her wand pointed at Pol.
“What in the- how did you get here?” Pol exclaimed, unable to contain his surprise. He looked at her and then back at me with a newfound respect on his face. “She’s been hiding there all the time?”
“She heard every word,” I said. I eased my hands out of my pockets while he absorbed this most unexpected turn of events. I wanted my hands free in case he started firing. I wanted to be able to go for my pistol, or at least jump for cover. I let my hands glide slowly down my sides, ready to push back my trench coat if I got a chance to reach for my gun.
“Amazing,” he said, staring at me. “Maybe you’re smarter than I thought, ogre.” His voice trailed away as the barrel of his gun bounced back and forth between the two of us.
“Give it up, Pol,” Gen said. “I heard your full confession. We’ve got you now. Put your gun down and put your hands on your head.”
His eyes were dark, his face cold and calculating. “It’s not necessarily over,” he said after a moment. “If I kill you both-”
“Ain’t gonna happen,” Gen said. “You shoot Hank and I’ll zap your head right off.”
“Hmm. I guess I’ll have to shoot you first.”
Pol squeezed the trigger as he spoke, and the explosive kaboom of his forty-four magnum reverberated right to my spine. My ears were ringing as I spun around and saw Gen diving into the gravel. I turned to rush Pol, but he was already swinging his aim towards me.
Kaboom!
The gun went off again as I dove into the boulders along the shore. I felt the hot sting of a bullet grazing my shoulder as I went down. My head slammed into one of the large rocks as I landed, and I saw stars.
I twisted around, dazed, fighting my trench coat as I struggled to reach the pistol at the small of my back. The fabric was twisted around beneath me, pulled so tight that I could barely move. I twisted my head around to get a look at Pol and saw him drawing a bead on Gen. I couldn’t see her at all.
He fired again, but I had no way of knowing if he’d shot her. I jumped up, shouting Pol’s name as I reached for my forty-five. In a glance, I took it all in: Gen on the ground bleeding, her wand broken, lying off to the side. Dark blood spilling out onto the rocks around her.
Pol spun around when he heard my shout, leveling his gun in my direction. He squeezed the trigger as I twisted sideways and brought my pistol up. I heard his revolver explode. His shot went wide, ricocheting off the boulder next to me. It whizzed through the air past my head, missing me by inches. I squeezed the trigger and felt the recoil lifting my forearm as I fired. I quickly brought my 1911 back to level, and retrained my sights on the goblin.
I was ready to fire again but then I saw Pol’s arms drop limply to his sides. The revolver slid from his grip and clattered to the rocky beach. His gaze went to the red stain spreading rapidly across his chest. He glanced up to meet my gaze, his eyes filled with disbelief. His mouth opened and I thought he was going to say something, but then he dropped to the ground, landing first on his knees, and then fell face down on the gravel, the final words on his lips forever unspoken.
I jumped forward, kicking the revolver out of reach. I knelt down to check his pulse. Pol was dead. I rushed to Gen’s side and found her just barely conscious. Her eyes were glazed, rolling back in her head. “How bad is it?” she murmured. “Did he kill me?”
I looked at the horrific wound on her thigh and bit my lip. “You’ll be fine,” I lied. I didn’t have the heart to tell her she was going to lose her leg. Elves just don’t have the physical
structure to take a bullet of that caliber. If Pol’s aim had been any better, I’d have been looking at her corpse.
I did my best to stop the bleeding as the sound of sirens grew in the distance. Our gunfight must have been audible throughout the entire undercity. I did my best to keep Gen calm while I waited. She gave me a slight smile.
“You surprise me, Hank. You really are one of the good guys.”
“Hush,” I told her. “Save your strength.”
She glanced down and said, “Steward, there’s blood on your hands…”
Then she lost consciousness. I found myself staring down at the blood. A few yards behind me, Pol’s body lay silent. He was the first fae I’d ever killed in cold blood. I’ve locked people up before. I’ve sent them to serve prison time, maybe even extraction, but I had never outright killed a fae, until now.
“Siva was right,” I mused quietly.
A dark storm is coming, she had said. Blood that flows like a river…
Part of me wanted to think that this was the end of it, that Siva’s prophecy had just been a premonition of everything that had just happened, but deep inside I knew that wasn’t the case. Somehow I knew that this was just the beginning.
Chapter 12
I rode with Gen to the hospital to make sure she’d have a friendly face around if she woke up. There wasn’t much room for me in the tiny undercity ambulance, but after the EMT sedated her, he gave me a compress to hold on the wound and then went up front to sit with the driver. Gen’s eyes fluttered once or twice as we were driving, and at one point she seemed to be smiling up at me, but she never did regain consciousness.
I spent the night at the hospital while she was in surgery. At some point, one of the doctors came out and told me she was going to pull through just fine. The next thing I knew it was eight a.m., and Butch was hobbling into the waiting room on his crutches. I had fallen asleep draped uncomfortably across two chairs. I stood up and spasms of pain shot up and down my back.
“There you are,” Butch said. “I’ve been lookin’ for you all morning.”
I reached back, trying to massage the screaming muscles in my lower back. “How’d you find me?” I said through a groan.
“You’re all over the news. I couldn’t get through to your cell so I called the police department and they told me you were here.”
I pulled out my phone and glanced at it. “No bars,” I said. “They must have the signal blocked.”
Butch grinned and pointed to a big sign over my head that read: Warning, all cell phone use prohibited! Cell phone jammers in use!
I snorted. “Some detective I am, huh?”
“How is she?”
“The doctors said she’d pull through. I haven’t heard anything in a couple hours.”
As if on cue, one of the surgeons stepped into the waiting room. He was a satyr with dark skin and a shaved head. He was wearing bloodied O.R. scrubs and he’d pulled down his mask to let it hang from his neck. He looked a little strange to me. I’m not used to clean-shaven satyrs. I couldn’t help thinking of Malone when I saw him, even though Malone was his opposite in every way possible. The surgeon wore an exhausted look and I could tell he’d been up all night, operating on Gen’s leg.
“Steward,” he said, giving me an exhausted smile. “I’m Bruce Lake. I’m the head trauma surgeon for the undercity General Hospital.
“How is she?” I said.
“Well, the good news is that we were able to save her leg,” he said. “Unfortunately, there is permanent nerve damage.”
“Is there anything we can do?” I said. “I can get one of the Elders here, if it would help.”
“No, we have the best surgeons and healers available. Believe me, we did everything we could.”
“Will she be able to walk?”
“No, not without assistance. She’ll be using crutches or a wheelchair for the rest of her life.”
I sighed and exchanged a disappointed look with Butch. “Well, thanks for everything,” I said. “I appreciate everything you’ve done. Can we see her now?”
“Only for a minute. She needs to rest.”
Butch and I followed him down the hall to the recovery room. It was a large room with moveable curtains to separate the patients into different areas. At the moment, Gen had the place to herself. She was propped up in one of the many beds, staring at us through half-lidded eyes.
“Hiya,” she said. Her speech was slurred from drugs and dehydration, but she managed a weak smile.
“Hey kiddo,” I said. “Doc says the surgery went great.”
“Don’t lie,” she said, frowning.
“Ah. He already told you.”
She nodded. She licked her lips and I heard the dry clicking of her tongue inside her mouth. I reached for the glass of water on the table next to her bed and handed it to her.
“It could have been a lot worse,” I said. “I saw where Pol hit you.”
She sipped the water and then laid her head back against the pillow, closing her eyes. “Pol… what happened to him?”
“Dead,” I said. “Lead poisoning. The fast kind.”
“Good. I keep having these dreams of him coming back, chasing me…”
“You watch too much TV,” I said. I could see the movement of her eyes beneath her closed lids and I suspected she was already dreaming. “We’ll check on you later,” I said quietly. I walked to the door, and Butch followed after me.
“Steward,” Gen called out in a quiet, rattled voice. I turned to see her gazing at me. “I’m gonna walk.”
I smiled. “I know,” I said, putting my hat on. “I know you will.”
We left the hospital. Butch and I walked down the street to the nearest tram stop, and he offered to buy me breakfast. “You sure?” I said. “Now that you’re retired, you won’t have any money coming in.”
“Talia’s got money,” he said dismissively. “And I won’t have many chances to do this in the future.”
“Sure you will,” I said. “I’m always broke. You’re welcome to feed me anytime.” We both laughed at that. We took the tram downtown and Butch bought me a platter of three gentleman sandwiches at one of our favorite undercity cafes. I ate all three and could have eaten another plate, but I knew better. I’d been indulging in too much human food. As I finished my meal, my guts were already rumbling threateningly. I settled back in the bench, sipping my coffee, and stared at the undercity coming to life outside the window.
“So ya found the killer,” Butch said. “You must be feelin’ pretty good about now.”
I smiled grimly. “I haven’t even told Nya yet.”
“I’d wager she knows. It’s all over the news.”
“I don’t know if it’ll make a difference,” I said. “It’s tough for kids starting out. Tougher still, now that Flick’s gone.”
“She’ll be all right,” Butch said. “She’s got family. And we’ll keep an eye on her, too.”
“I suppose we will,” I said, smiling. “I suppose you want all the gory details.”
“Of course.”
I told him the rest of the story, from my cell phone epiphany right up through the gunfight. Butch was impressed with my shooting skills. I didn’t admit it to him, but I was a little impressed with myself. I hadn’t practiced shooting in months. I couldn’t afford to.
“So all that time, it was Pol,” Butch said, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”
“He wasn’t even on my list of suspects,” I said. “I should have known something was up with the lake, though.”
“I think we all knew that. We just didn’t do anything about it.”
“Meaning?”
“People are worthless,” he said cynically. “They’re too wrapped up in their own lives to even notice the really important things they’re missing.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But you’ve got to remember that most of those people are hard working and honest. They can’t afford to stop working to go investigate the chemicals in the lake, and
they wouldn’t even know where to start. Truth is, that’s what their taxes are for.”
“For people like Malone,” Butch snorted. “And the mayor. Good luck getting people like that to do anything useful.”
“That’s my point. The system let the people down. They paid into it and trusted it, but didn’t reap the benefits they were promised. And frankly, it wasn’t just the mayor and Malone. It was us too, Butch.”
He stared at me, frowning. “What’re you sayin’, Boss?”
“I get paid to look after the fae just as much as Malone. I’m the Steward. I should have done something about the lake a long time ago.”
“How could you have known?” he said. “It just happened, that’s all. It’s not like somebody complained to you.”
“No, but they shouldn’t have had to.”
I’d been staring out the window, watching the traffic on the street. “I owe all those people an apology,” I said. “I failed them.”
“Forget it,” Butch said. “What’s done is done. Lesson learned and all that.”
I drew my gaze away from the window and stared at him. I saw the misery in his eyes and my guilt ratcheted up a notch. Butch’s life was still in pieces. Despite all that had happened to him, here he was trying to comfort me while his bride was at home lying in a coma. My gears started turning immediately, considering his situation.
“We must be missing something,” I said quietly.
Butch immediately sensed my change in direction. He instantly perked up. “We checked every angle, Boss. I don’t know what else we’re gonna do. I’m thinkin’ I might take her topside, to a human clinic. See if they can help.”
“You think that’s wise?” I said.
“I got nothin’ else, Boss.”
My heart went out to him as I saw that broken-hearted look in his eyes. It must have been awful for him. Butch had never even been in a serious relationship, until he met Talia. I still remembered the look on his face the first time he saw her. It had been love at first sight. It occurred to me how much he had changed in just the last few months, and I couldn’t help smiling.
Death in the Hallows (Hank Mossberg, Private Ogre Book 2) Page 17