Acts of Violence

by Ross Harrison

  ‘Pour me another drink.’

  The heat flared again. ‘No. Not until you give me something. Answers would be more than acceptable. Let’s start with what she did for Webster. And why is he hiding you away in this fancy apartment. Seems like an odd thing to do when he doesn’t like anyone with skin darker than this couch.’

  ‘The hell should I tell you anything?’

  ‘Should I sit closer? Maybe you can’t hear me from over there. A few hours from now, the killer will have got away with it.’

  ‘And out of the goodness of your heart,’ he jabbed the stick towards my chest, ‘you wanna help find him.’

  ‘No, that’s your heart’s incentive. Mine is not being executed. I don’t think Webster had her killed, but I’m pretty sure the whole thing is because of him.’

  Jarvis sat in silence again. I stayed quiet too, since he seemed to be trying to come to a decision. Most people would take that as their cue to lay it on heavier. I knew from experience that didn’t help things. Just made it harder to think. And I needed him to think.

  ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘Simplify it.’

  Jarvis glared at me again. But it was less defiant this time. He was ready to talk. He didn’t give a shit about me, but if there was a chance I’d hurt those responsible, then he’d give me the ammo.

  ‘Guess I ain’t long for this world now anyhow.’

  He kept glancing at the decanter. I sighed. I could use another anyway. He held the glass up for me before I even stood.

  ‘Twenty-somethin’ years ago, my wife worked at Cole Webster’s mansion.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, bringing his second drink. And mine.

  ‘Yeah, I guess with scum like him, that’s all I gotta say.’ I nodded. Tried to make it sympathetic or something. ‘Leonne was his. Not my granddaughter.’

  He stopped and masked the quivering lips by emptying the glass in one go. Again.

  ‘What happened?’ I pressed.

  ‘Elva was about ten years older than me. Too old, really. She died giving birth. She always wanted a kid, but not like that.’

  ‘So that’s why Webster looked after her…’ That was stupid. I hadn’t meant to say it like that.

  ‘Looked after her?’ he shouted. Or as close to it as an old man with not much voice left could get. ‘He used her as a slave!’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, the moment I got the chance. Thought I’d best try to undo my stupidity before he got too angry. ‘I worded it wrong. I meant he gave her a job and an apartment. Black people usually disappear pretty quickly in this town. That’s what I meant.’

  It wasn’t much of an appeasement, but he calmed down a bit. I passed him my glass, since I hadn’t drunk my refill. That appeased him more.

  ‘So she’s Webster’s daughter, and that’s why he gave her an apartment and a job. But it doesn’t explain why he’s put you up here. Guilt? Doesn’t sound like him. You got something on him?’

  ‘Not exactly. Leonne paid him off. Well, worked for nothin’. If she hadn’t, he’d have got rid of me. And I ain’t talkin’ about a first class ticket to Orion.’

  I was confused. Webster wasn’t the sentimental type. Like I’d said, guilt didn’t sound right. But neither did this. He could have made her work for nothing anyway. I couldn’t make sense of it. I told him so.

  ‘She’d work for him for nothin’ and hand over all her tips. Minus a weekly food allowance. In return, he’d let me stay here. And in return for lettin’ her do that, I pay him nearly everythin’ I get from my pension.’

  ‘You paid him to use her as slave labour?’

  His eyes flashed. Nostrils flared.

  ‘I pay the bastard so he won’t keep her in a cage and sell her like all the others!’

  My heart leapt. He did know something.

  ‘What others? What do you know about his operation?’

  ‘More than she did.’

  The talking seemed to be tiring him. I doubted he did much of it. Probably didn’t socialise.

  ‘You have any coffee?’ I asked. An adrenaline shot straight into his heart might have been better, but he probably wouldn’t agree to that.

  Jarvis shrugged and jerked his thumb at the synthesiser. Not real caffeine, but it would have to do. I couldn’t have him getting too tired to tell me what he knew. After pushing aside the plant so I could get to the synthesiser, I went to look for mugs.

  So Webster had a nice little circle going on with these two. Basically, she paid him off to keep Jarvis safe. Meanwhile, Jarvis paid him off to keep Leonne safe. I didn’t think there was a story behind why the old man would do that. I kind of understood how he’d see her as his own. Why he’d have to protect her.

  Now I understood why she hadn’t said anything to me. Why she hadn’t gone to the cops or tried to get off this rock. They were both trapped by the danger posed to the other.

  What I didn’t understand yet was why Webster had referred to her as an experiment. It couldn’t just be that she was black. The hell kind of experiment would that be? See if blacks can serve drinks too? Hardly. Even he wasn’t that stupid and racist. How much money would a barmaid’s tips and an old man’s pension bring Webster? There was still more to it.

  While the second cup of coffee poured, I tasted the first. It wasn’t too bad. Better than the diner’s.

  ‘Mr. Jarvis,’ I said as respectfully as I could. He took the coffee, but didn’t seem interested in drinking it. ‘You are, as far as I can tell, my last chance to find who killed your daughter.’ Calling her that seemed to stir him. ‘I need you to tell me everything you know about what Webster does. Did Leonne ever tell you about his operation?’

  ‘I told you. I know more than she did. My wife couldn’t work at his mansion and not know about any of it. Made her sick to the core. Leonne didn’t know nothin’ about it. Thought it was a legit mining operation.’

  ‘But you know better.’

  ‘She thought she was fighting back against Webster by trading insider information to his competitors.’

  ‘What competitors?’

  ‘Exactly. There’s no one else out here. But she was naïve and gullible, and believed it.’ I thought it was closer to the truth to say she was just desperate for a way to hit back at Webster.

  ‘So what was she trading?’

  ‘She was passin’ on information for Webster.’

  ‘Wait…’ Something clicked. ‘How was she passing on information?’

  ‘Bastards implanted her with a data chip.’

  That was what someone had cut out of her! It might not have been the most important piece of this puzzle, but it was one of the biggest. I was relieved to finally know what the hell it was. Well, kind of know.

  ‘What kind of data was on it?’

  ‘Do you know what he does down there? Some mining, sure. But that’s just a front. He sells people. Trades ‘em when he doesn’t have enough of his own to sell. That’s what was on the chip. Timetables, prices, stock, drop-off locations. All that shit.’

  I stayed quiet. The girl was an integral part of the operation and she didn’t even know it. That’s why she was an experiment. I’d hoped for something a little more revelatory or something. It didn’t feel big enough somehow, but that was my get out of jail card. If I could find who cut it out of her and get it back, DeMartino could pull the data off it. I doubted it would have been destroyed. The problem was I had no idea who had it. Webster obviously didn’t, or he wouldn’t have had Little Dick ask me quite so persistently.

  ‘Who was collecting the information from her?’ I asked.

  ‘The hell do I know? Couriers for whoever Webster’s off-world partners are, I guess. They’d go into the club. Sit down for a drink and scan the chip while she served ‘em. No one suspected a thing and no one would think to look inside a living person for evidence against Webster. Not that anyone would look, period.’

  ‘I’m looking.’

  ‘A little fucking late, Jack Mason.’

&n
bsp; Jarvis banged the mug down on the coffee table so hard I thought the glass would shatter. The coffee that exploded out of the top was probably not hot enough now to have burned his hand.

  I guessed it was time for me to leave. I didn’t bother to say goodbye. It wasn’t like I was leaving a friendly tea party. With Leonne dead, I knew Jarvis wouldn’t last much longer. I considered leaving him my gun. But I’d need it. Then I remembered I didn’t even have my gun. That damn bouncer still had it. Shit.

  Outside, I leaned against the wall for a minute or two to think. It felt like a big break in the case and nothing at all, both at once. I knew what had been cut out of the girl. That chip could save me. But I didn’t know where I’d find it.

  Halfway down the steps, I saw a sight I’d really hoped I wouldn’t. Sitting on the drive below was a long, elegant looking green car. A car with wheels. I stopped dead and listened. No sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs. They’d probably take the elevator. I wanted to think they were here for Jarvis, but it was too much of a coincidence. Besides, I was more of a problem to them than an old man.

  I didn’t have much choice but to keep going. As quietly as I could, I descended the stairs until I reached the balcony around the lobby. From the stairwell, I couldn’t see anyone. Inch by inch I moved further out, my eyes scouring every shadow for guns. Eventually, I made it most of the way to the rail. Again, I moved slowly and carefully as I looked over the edge. The lower I tilted my head, the harder I could feel my heart thumping in my throat.

  The lobby below was empty.

  I breathed a quick sigh of relief and hurried for the stairs. They’d be upstairs banging on Jarvis’ door. Once they found him alone, they’d rush back down. I had no time to look for a back door. If anyone had been left in the car, I’d have to take my chances with them.

  It should probably have occurred to me sooner that Webster wasn’t stupid. As it was, the thought didn’t strike until I was halfway across the lobby. Then it was too late. The glass door ahead slid open.

  ‘Good evening, Mr. Mason.’

  Cole Webster was followed through the door by two men. One of them was the guy who’d been setting up that hook at the lake. The fancy cane clicked with every other step. A door behind me opened. The door I’d hidden the concierge behind. I thought I could make out two pairs of footsteps from there. I didn’t bother looking.

  ‘What a coincidence. I was just coming to see you. In a roundabout way…’

  ‘You’ve led my men on quite the treasure hunt, Mr. Mason.’ Webster wasn’t quite the same man as he had been earlier. Now he looked more like what he was: old. His hair looked more grey than silver. His hands more leathery. The bags under his eyes darker. Perhaps he wasn’t taking the death of his son too well.

  ‘How’s the family?’ I asked. I knew it was a bad idea. I actually almost felt bad for saying such a thing to a man who’d just lost his only son. Almost.

  Webster tried a little smile, but failed. Two pairs of hands grabbed my arms from behind. I struggled about as much as a newborn. I turned my head back from the guy on my left just in time to see the brass handle of Webster’s cane whip down at me. It was badly aimed and hit my shoulder. Unfortunately, it was the shoulder I’d just been shot through.

  I tried, but the cry of pain didn’t want to be contained. Webster managed the smile this time.

  ‘You can ask him soon enough,’ he said. ‘So you’ve been chatting to Mr. Jarvis.’

  ‘Was there a question in there?’ I felt sick. More sick than I had when I’d actually been shot. I couldn’t feel any blood running down me though. Van had done a good job. ‘Or are you just scared that I know how to bring you down now?’

  ‘You might have a theory, Mr. Mason, but better men than you have tried. And failed, naturally.’

  ‘I bet those better men didn’t have a data chip taken from a pretty little experiment.’ Webster’s smile faltered a little.

  ‘So now you do know what I was looking for. How do you know I haven’t found it now?’

  ‘How do you know I didn’t have it all along?’

  He laughed. There wasn’t much feeling behind it. He probably wanted to kill me, not talk to me. But I was sure he didn’t have the data chip yet, and he couldn’t be sure that I didn’t have it. Or at least know where it was.

  ‘What are your off-world partners going to think when you stop passing along your schedule and drop-off locations? Maybe they’ll wonder if you’ve decided to cut them out.’

  ‘Or maybe they’ll use our back up. Halfwit.’ Again, it should probably have occurred to me that he wasn’t stupid. The data chip wouldn’t be the only way. Not for a big business like Webster was running. ‘Now, how much do Lawrence and this DeMartino know?’

  ‘Oh, they know everything. They’re probably already over at your “mining” operation, taking it to pieces.’

  He smiled again. ‘So they know nothing.’

  As I was about to reply, the door slid open behind Webster. Five men walked in. They weren’t tenants. The matching black trench coats over their cheap suits was the first clue. The fact that each carried a matching pistol in the front of their waistband was the second.

  ‘Webster,’ the middle guy said. ‘My boss ain’t happy that your interests have changed direction, old man.’

  Webster’s face fell and he spun. ‘Who the hell do you think you are, coming into my complex, in my city, and talking to me like that?’

  The guys on either side of me let go. They were ready to reach for their guns.

  ‘I’m afraid this ain’t your town no more. You’ve been slipping. Deliveries have been getting smaller and later. You’re being replaced.’

  Webster was visibly shaking with rage. I only had one idea. It might get me out of the situation, or it might get me killed. On the plus side, it might get Webster killed, too.

  ‘Gun!’ I shouted.

  The guys on either side of me reached inside their jackets. So did the newcomers. I made a dash for the stairs. Went under them. All I could hear now was running footsteps, shouting and gunfire. In the confines of the lobby, it was deafening.

  I peeked my head out the other side of the stairs, under the balcony. There was a single pillar between the bottom of the steps and the front wall. I didn’t know if I was better off going for the front or back door. I decided on the front. I knew there was at least one car out there I could take. Not only did I not know where the back door was, but these new guys would probably have more muscle waiting there.

  With a deep breath, I ran for the pillar. Somehow, I made it without getting shot at. It didn’t matter that both sides knew I was unarmed. They’d all be shooting at anything that wasn’t a friend.

  On the way across, I’d seen that the sliding door had been shattered by the hail of bullets from Webster’s men. In that range, I didn’t know how anyone was still alive. Both sides were probably too busy running for cover to aim properly. I’d only seen two bodies on the floor. Neither of them was Webster. The other shooters had made for the reception desk, the elevators and the stairs. Some were above me now, shooting down.

  Dust and smoke filled the air. Flying shards of floor tiles and plaster from the walls pelted every surface. The occasional whiz past my pillar told me that either there was someone nearby, or I was a target now.

  I really wished that bouncer hadn’t taken my gun. On the other hand, if I’d started shooting, I’d have been even more of a target. As it was, it seemed only one guy was shooting at me. Maybe. The whizzes and pounding of bullets on the other side of the pillar weren’t too frequent. Maybe they were strays.

  Either way, I had to make a run for it. Someone was going to win this shootout, and then I’d be left with that angry and armed someone. In theory, it should be easy. It was only about twenty-five feet or so to the door. The glass was gone, so I didn’t have to worry about it not opening. The door beyond sat wide open. I’d seen that when the black-coated guys came in. I just had to worry about not getting sh
ot and not slipping on the broken glass.

  I actually stretched my legs. As though I was about to run a marathon. Caught myself thinking how I didn’t want to pull a muscle halfway to the door. Ridiculous. I ran.

  There were still gunshots to my left, but I kept my eyes on the door and on where I was stepping. I didn’t know how many were left alive. Halfway to the door two bullets pounded the wall beside it. I still didn’t know if I was getting shot at or if they were strays. I wasn’t about to turn around and go back, either way.

  At the door, I forced myself to slow. If I slipped on all that shattered glass and went down, I’d soon find out if they were shooting at me. The glass crunched under my shoes. Slid about like little pieces of ice. It only took a couple of seconds and I was in the porch. I could still get a bullet in my back at any second. I had to get outside. Preferably outside and away in Webster’s fancy car. The newcomers had other ideas.

  As I was about to step into freedom and safety, half of a black-coated man appeared from the side of the outer doorway. A rain-covered pistol glinted in the light pouring out from the lobby. He was raising the gun when I slammed into him. I only hit his shoulder, so we landed in the soggy grass a few feet apart. I rolled once. Hit my knee on the concrete edging and scraped my hand on the driveway. Didn’t really feel either.

  I threw myself up onto one knee and one foot. The off-worlder was scrabbling about in the sodden grass for the gun. I glanced around but couldn’t see it. Couldn’t take the chance that he’d find it any second and shoot me in the back. I dived at him. My foot slipped. I landed on him, but not quite as violently as I’d intended.

  The guy threw his elbow backwards. It caught me in the shoulder. Again, the same damn shoulder I’d been shot in. There was more adrenaline flowing through me this time and it didn’t hurt so much. I repaid the favour with my own elbow. I didn’t know exactly where I was aiming for, but it hit him in the shoulder, too.