Rex 01 The Atomic Circus

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Rex 01 The Atomic Circus Page 6

by K. C. Finn


  “Oh,” Cae says nervously. He can feel a little redness entering his cheeks. “Can you make them bring my clothes straight away? You know, all of them?”

  The soldier’s eyes flash to where Cae’s hands must sit under the blankets. She nods less confidently than usual. “Sure.” And then she is gone for the moment, which gives Cae a chance to reach for the water and finish his drink without observation.

  After the final grateful gulps he rests his head against the headboard, starting to organise his thoughts. They have a lot of criminals to go through, but he feels safe for now. Someone who went to so much trouble to kill him in such an elaborate fashion isn’t likely to just turn up and shoot him at his home any time soon. Time is on his side for the moment.

  He just needs a lead, something to spark him into guessing who could have set the trap.

  Of course, for a trap to be set, one has to know that the victim is going to be present to walk into it. So that’s the clue. Somebody knew he was going to the Atomic Circus, with plenty of time in hand to set up their goons and drugs and spinning blades of death.

  Finding that somebody will lead him to the real culprit.

  21.

  “I printed off everything they sent you,” Kendra says, thumping a pile of papers onto Cae’s bed.

  She has only ever seen the downstairs of Cae’s house before, and suddenly being in his bedroom is strangely liberating. The detective props himself up in his bed, looking very peculiar in his turtle neck sweater and gloves. He rifles through the papers one by one.

  “Where’s the interview report?” He asks.

  “What interview?” Kendra replies.

  “The one with Jack Lacroix. He’s our best way to find out who gave them the tip-off.”

  Kendra pulls a face. “There isn’t one,” she says apologetically.

  A wave of disappointment comes over Cae. “Don’t tell me he got away,” he says in disbelief.

  “No,” Kendra starts, one side of her lip rising awkwardly. “He’s dead.”

  “Bloody brilliant,” Cae sighs. “How on earth did that happen?”

  “When they were putting you into the ambulance he broke away from custody,” Kendra says reluctantly. “There was fighting and crossfire and it really wasn’t a safe environment to be running through.”

  Cae just nods, sensing there’s something more to come.

  “And I may have shot him,” Kendra adds in a smaller voice. “Like three times. In the head.”

  “Of course you did,” Cae answers, exasperated. He shifts uncomfortably and the motion doesn’t go unnoticed.

  “If you think I was in the army for ten years and didn’t ever kill anybody…” Kendra starts.

  “No, no, of course not,” Cae replies, trying his best to keep his tone even. The last thing he wants to do is put any kind of judgement on the woman who just saved his life. Whatever her methods, she has done the right thing.

  “Besides which,” Kendra continues. “What he did to you, how he enjoyed it so much. He deserved-‘

  “-to be punished,” Cae finishes, his tone still level. Ambiguity is most certainly the way forward at this tricky juncture. “Does anyone know you killed him?”

  Kendra shakes her head. “It was chaos all around.”

  “Then let’s keep it that way,” he says. “So, we need a rethink about the informant.” He drops all the papers and rubs his gloved hands together, blue eyes narrowed in thought. “Who could have known we were going to the Atomic Circus?”

  “Well you arrested everybody that we asked when we got the number,” Kendra begins.

  “Yes,” Cae says. “And it’s not likely to be the van driver; else he would have just driven us straight to that casino, saved them the trouble of setting up that trap in the building.”

  “So what about before we got the number?” Kendra questions. A few seconds pass, but before Cae can suggest anything Kendra is speaking again. “Flash Morgan!” She shouts happily. “He had it in for you, you said so. And he told us about the circus.”

  “And so did Redd Richmond,” Cae adds calmly, reaching the same conclusion.

  “So it’s one of them,” Kendra states firmly, “they knew you’d go there after they’d given you a trail of breadcrumbs to follow.”

  “Hmm,” says Cae. He isn’t convinced. “But the thugs in Physical Traders were prepared for the two of us, I think. Richmond doesn’t even know you exist.”

  “Flash does though,” Kendra pushes. But Cae’s expression does not change. “What?”

  “That big guy taking RESISTANCE, the one who blocked our way out,” Cae muses. “I wouldn’t have been able to take him on even if he wasn’t chemically enhanced. That wasn’t necessary. And the way they held that gun to your head when they searched you for weapons. They never did that to me.”

  Kendra’s dark eyebrows furrow. “You think they knew who I was?” She asks.

  “Yes,” Cae says plainly. “Somebody warned them that you were ex-army.”

  Kendra slumps on the corner of the bed dejectedly. “Morgan didn’t know that,” she sighs.

  “But somebody did,” Cae says with sigh. He casts his mind back to the interview at Dartley Prison, trying to remember everything Morgan said. He’s the one who made the connection between the Atomic Circus and the White Van Man for them; that was the moment that the case really came together. There has to be something important missing from that day.

  And then it hits him.

  “What do Flash Morgan and Redd Richmond have in common?” He asks Kendra, a smile slowly forming on his face.

  She meets his grin with one of her own. “You’ve got it haven’t you?” She says. “Boy, that brain of yours is damn sharp, even post-coma.”

  Cae nods slowly. “Angelica Lane,” he says.

  “The liaison chick!” Kendra says with a huge happy smile. “Of course it is! She could easily have told them both to lead you to the circus!”

  “And she was there when you were carrying all that weaponry at prison security,” Cae adds.

  “You told her then that I’d been in the forces,” Kendra continues.

  “And she was the one who gave me the idea that Brooks was a druggie,” Cae says, slightly less happy with himself. “There were no other sources to confirm that; I shouldn’t have just believed her straight off.”

  “Never mind about that,” Kendra says with a wave of her hand. “That evil little blonde set us both up big time.”

  “But why?” Cae asks sharply. “I’ve never met her before in my life.”

  “So she’s working for the same guy that our friend dead Jack was in league with,” Kendra suggests. “We just need to ask her who that is. You know, politely. With our fists.”

  Cae stretches his shoulders out, feeling suddenly refreshed.

  “And so we shall,” he says.

  22.

  “Why are we wasting our time here?” Kendra says, shuffling along uneasily. “I want to get out there and catch that little weasel before she knows we’re on to her.”

  “And we will,” Cae promises, leading her through the corridors of the police station. “But I have to run this by Damian first,” he insists.

  Kendra makes a groaning sound behind him, but he ignores her and presses on through the building.

  “If Angelica knows we suspect her, then we could be walking straight into another trap by seeking her out,” Cae explains. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not in the best shape to get drugged and put to my death again this week.”

  Kendra looks him over, and it’s true enough. Although he looks the part now that he’s back in black and covered up right to his neck, she has noticed the total lack of spring in his step. He is tired and aching, and far more mentally drained than she is. Kendra, after all, hasn’t had the experience of watching a friend die before her eyes. Not recently anyway.

  They reach the chief’s office, and Cae turns to Kendra with a concerned look. “I need him to know where we’re going this t
ime. We might not be so lucky with our escape again, unless you can also survive a bullet through the head?”

  Kendra doesn’t like the lightly mocking tone, particularly since this scenario is potentially very possible at the moment, but she nods a reluctant little agreement to Cae. Cae takes hold of the door handle. But upon opening the door, it is not Damian Jobe they see sitting at the desk.

  “Spinner?” questions Cae, looking at the seasoned officer sitting in Jobe’s place.

  PC Michael Spinner looks up from the paperwork that he’s perusing. On noticing Cae and Kendra, a scowl comes over his features.

  “This is your fault,” Spinner says nastily. “You always have to go off-book don’t you? Leave a big messy pile of paperwork for a mug like me to handle.”

  “Where’s the chief?” Cae asks.

  Spinner picks up a big chunk of papers, brandishing them at the detective. “You create a big disaster that’s totally against covert procedure, and I get stuck with the clean-up!” The officer moans on. “The chief hopped off on annual leave for a week, no surprises there though! He always does this when there’s a crisis.”

  Cae can only nod in agreement; Damian is famous for avoiding both paperwork and scandal, and the events of the casino certainly fall into both categories. “Well listen,” he says, “I just wanted to run something by you; keep the office informed of what I’m up to.”

  “Oh God,” says Spinner. “You’re going out there again? Already? I’m gonna die in a sea of red tape and paper clips.”

  “I’m just going to do a little off-site interrogation,” Cae explains. “It should be nothing, but have a car on standby in case I need backup.”

  “Oh,” says the officer, a little relieved. “That I can do.”

  Cae smiles his thanks for the first favour, bracing himself for the second. “Right,” he begins as cheerfully as possible. “And in a day or so I’m going to need a massive operation to shut down a heavily armed black market that’s popped up in town. Probably need the whole force. Sort that out for me, would you?”

  Spinner just stares at him viciously. “Get out,” he says. “Just get out. I can’t look at you.”

  When they are a safe distance from the office, Kendra bursts into a fit of laughter.

  “Boy is he tightly wound,” she observes.

  “Office whipping boy,” Cae explains with a grin. “Gets all the best jobs.”

  “So now where?” Kendra asks.

  Cae looks at his watch. “The jetty,” he says, quickening his pace. “I want to be there when Angelica finishes work.”

  23.

  The feeling that you are being followed is not a pleasant one at the best of times, let alone in the twilight hours of a town filled with thick, brown smog. As Angelica Lane walks towards Dartley’s town centre, she can hear the footsteps of the two people behind her getting louder. And faster. And closer to her.

  If she can just get home, things will be alright.

  “Miss Lane?” Says a voice from behind her, a woman’s voice that she doesn’t recognise.

  “Not today, thank you,” she replies sharply. Angelica tries to keep walking, reaching into her work bag with one manicured hand.

  “Miss Lane, please,” says another voice, a man this time. The footsteps get faster and louder still. “It’s very important.”

  Then a hand grabs Angelica’s arm and spins her, and in the same moment she pulls her knife from her bag, pointing into straight into the face of the man. And then she sees the high-collared coat, the bright blue eyes and the black leather gloves.

  “Oh Detective Rex,” she says with a huge, relieved sigh. “It’s only you.”

  Angelica lowers the knife, slipping it back into her bag. She looks at the woman holding her arm, taking in the dark messy plaits and the masculine swagger about her. Kendra lets her go slowly.

  “Nice knife,” says the ex-soldier suspiciously.

  “I thought you were someone else,” explains the blonde.

  “Clearly,” says Cae, a dark eyebrow rising. “Is there somewhere we can talk, Miss Lane?”

  Angelica’s glassy eyes reflect the brown smoke around them. She seems surprised by the question. “Yes,” she says, pointing over her shoulder. “My place is one more block over.”

  They begin the walk together, Kendra watching the other woman carefully for any signs of attempted escape. But Angelica appears sure of herself as she leads them to a row of little apartment blocks. They enter the hallway of the building in silence, walking until they can remove their masks.

  Cae breathes out a huge breath as soon as he can, then coughs at the dryness in his throat. Angelica gingerly puts a hand on his shoulder, but quickly removes it again when Kendra steps threateningly closer.

  “Come on in,” Angelica says to the still-spluttering detective, “I’ll get you some water.”

  Angelica Lane’s home is austerely furnished. In true minimalist fashion there is little in the way of personal effects, and her furniture looks like it is hardly ever used. In spite of herself, Kendra quite likes the style.

  After Cae has cleared his throat and wiped a choked tear out of his eye, Angelica beckons him to sit down. The situation is very strange, and not at all like the interrogation he had pictured. They all sit in hard, uncomfortable armchairs in the whitewashed room, Angelica straightening out her skirt nervously. Kendra watches her like a viper waiting to strike.

  “Miss Lane,” Cae begins. “I think you already know why we’re here. I know you were involved in the plot to try to kill me. Please don’t attempt to deny it.”

  Angelica looks at him, eyes wider, but calmer somehow. “I won’t,” she replies. “But please let me explain.”

  Cae leans forward eagerly. “Go ahead,” he urges.

  “First off, I didn’t know he was trying to kill you,” Angelica says sadly.

  “So you are working for someone?” Kendra presses.

  “Was,” Angelica replies quickly. “Very much in the past tense. I left him as soon as I heard that you were in the hospital.” The blonde’s distress is clearly growing; her cheeks flush red as she rearranges herself on the hard chair. “I thought he’d caught up with me for a moment back there. Hence the knife.”

  “So let me help you out here, fill a few details in to save us some time,” Cae begins, his bright eyes turning harsher. “You laid the trail for me to follow, fed me a false story about Charles Brookes, then influenced Richmond and Morgan to lead me to the Atomic Circus. And then, presumably, made sure the password stayed the same for me to get in?”

  “No,” Angelica says quickly. “I mean, yes, the others, but not the last one. I don’t have that kind of power. I’ve never even seen the circus. I didn’t know it existed until a few weeks ago.”

  Cae sits back against the chair, pleased that his suspicions so far have been right. But one question still remains. Kendra is on the edge of her seat, still watching Angelica suspiciously.

  “So here’s the big question, Miss Lane,” says the detective. “Who is it that’s trying to kill me?”

  Angelica blinks away a nervous glance. She takes a breath.

  “Your boss, apparently.”

  24.

  “Damian?” Cae asks, a lump in his throat. He wants to say that she’s insane, that the very thought of the chief of police trying to exterminate him is unreal. But there’s just the slimmest possibility that it might be the truth.

  “Why the hell would your chief want you dead, Cae?” Kendra asks, taking her eyes off Angelica for the first time. But the detective does not speak.

  “I don’t understand it either,” Angelica says to fill the silence that follows. “He told me he was getting you into the Atomic Circus undercover to expose it. I really thought that Brooks had been killed by someone in the circus.” Her breath is heavier now. “I mean, Damian’s the chief of police, I never could have imagined he was-‘

  “What?” Kendra asks sharply. “A murderer?”

  Angelica gives her a
weak look and swallows hard. “God,” she murmurs, “when I think of it now…”

  Cae’s expression has finally changed. He furrows his brow.

  “Why did you follow his orders?” He questions. “What made you help him?”

  The blonde woman’s lip quivers. “Because he helped me. We sort of…had an arrangement.”

  Kendra laughs her manly chortle. “You were involved with him,” she states, not bothering to hide the contempt in her voice.

  “Sleeping your way to the top,” Cae completes, and Angelica’s whole vibe suddenly makes sense to him. “He gave you the top-price job in liaison, and you gave him…” He fumbles over the next words, catching Angelica’s embarrassed look. “Whatever you gave him,” he finishes, his own complexion turning a little pink.

  “That still doesn’t explain his motive,” Kendra observes.

  Cae swallows the lump in his throat. “That’s because there’s something you don’t know,” he says. “A hatchet I thought we’d buried some time ago. Apparently he hasn’t forgiven me, which is disappointing, I’ll admit.”

  “Forgiven you for what?” asks Angelica, and Kendra too watches him eagerly for the answer.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Cae says, looking straight at Kendra. Then he turns his gaze back to Angelica. “Somehow your presence doesn’t inspire me to give away any more vital information at the moment, Miss Lane.”

  “I told you,” she says in a pleading tone. “I’m through with him. He told me everything about the ambush after you were hospitalised, and I told him where to go.” She looks resolved and hurt as she sinks her head into her hands. For the first time in knowing her, Cae thinks now that she finally looks human, somehow much more real than the confident professional who declined to shake his hand.

  “Cae,” Kendra interrupts. “Let’s just get out of here and you can explain everything to me.”

  But the detective shakes his head. “I’m not leaving her here,” he says with another quick look at Angelica. “She could still tell Jobe that we’re coming.” The blonde looks mortified at the suggestion. “But if we take her with us,” Cae continues, “She can lead us to him.”

 

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