Die on Your Feet

by S. G. Wong

  “You’re liable to lose a filling, you’re shaking so hard. You’ll cause a wreck inside of half a minute. You can’t drive like this.”

  His face fell apart and the sorriest excuse for a laugh came out of his mouth. “You haven’t the faintest.”

  Someone was coming. Arbogast looked up in panic. Then his entire body relaxed. He started his car up. Lola watched a wasp-waisted girl teeter her way over on four-inch heels. She smiled uncertainly at Lola as she climbed into her burgundy car. It was parked nose-to-nose with Arbogast’s Olds. The girl backed up expertly and drove away.

  Lola put a hand to Arbogast’s shoulder. He brushed it off and threw his car into gear. Lola wasn’t fast enough; she got her hand banged up by the car frame as Arbogast sped forward. She rubbed her hand, cursing as she watched her former client peel out of the employee lot.

  “A lady should watch her mouth,” drawled a husky voice behind her. Lola whirled around. Copenhagen’s thug smirked at her and tipped his hat. Just behind him, his leaner cohort smiled unpleasantly. Thick placed a meaty hand at Lola’s elbow. “Time for another meeting with your client.”

  She shook her arm, but his grip was a vise. He dug his thumb into the tender spot on her inner arm, just beside the elbow. A dagger of pain lanced through her as he harshly massaged the sensitive nerve.

  “A lady should appreciate her escorts,” he said.

  Lola stood her ground with gritted teeth. “I know the way.”

  Thick increased the pressure. “We walk like this or you don’t walk at all.”

  No one met Lola’s eye as they marched her inside the Gaming Commission Building. Aubrey buzzed with tension. Lola felt him like a pressure in the air beside her, changing sides as he moved around her in the Ether. Lola considered her options.

  Copenhagen was waiting behind her massive desk when they delivered Lola into the office. Lola rubbed gingerly at her arm.

  “Let’s get this over with,” she growled.

  “No need to be rude,” said Copenhagen. “I am your client, after all. You work for me.”

  “I work for myself.”

  “Come now, there’s no need to sulk.” The other woman regarded Lola with amusement.

  Lola stared stonily, refusing to be drawn in.

  Copenhagen’s expression expanded into delight. “Surely, you have time for a client?” she asked.

  “What do you want?” Lola ground out.

  “I have a serious situation, involving an employee of mine. I need you to handle it.”

  “This related to your illegal tournaments?” Lola asked.

  Copenhagen shook her head. “No, not at all. As a matter of fact, the cops have dug up some promising leads, and I’ve been assured arrests are imminent.”

  “Just like that.”

  “Mmmm. Timing is everything, isn’t it? Ah, but don’t look so dejected, Lola. It’s not as though you failed. I’m willing to admit I jumped the gun by hiring you. But your...interaction with the detectives certainly spurred them into quicker action.”

  “Your plan all along, of course.”

  Copenhagen gave a very European shrug. “Nothing personal, you understand. It got the job done. Here.” She gestured to an envelope on her desk. “Easy money. A retainer for the next job is also included.”

  “The next job,” repeated Lola, her gaze level on the other woman’s face.

  “As I said, I have an employee in a troubling situation.” Copenhagen motioned for Lola to sit. She hesitated. Thick pushed down on her shoulder and Lola fell into the chair. “A man named Bodewell Arbogast. Know him?”

  Lola remained tight-lipped.

  Copenhagen sighed theatrically. “I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Lola. You see, I know Arbogast hired you to find Sunny.” She got up, paced to the windows then returned. “Sunny was a paid informant. He was spying on Arbogast. For me.”

  “How did you pay him? With smack?”

  “Oh no. Poor Sunny was already back on the needle when I approached him. He was as twisted up in this extortion business as Arbogast, but he was desperate for more money. Sunny was the perfect weak link, and I needed to find the start of the chain. I paid him to keep tabs on his lover.”

  “Oh now we’re being honest, are we?” said Lola. She leaned forward. “You sent me that little black ledger book. Aubrey could smell your Wards on it. You knew we’d sniff you out. I don’t know what the point of sending it anonymously was, but I do know this. You’re behind the extortion ring. Arbogast was working for you. He thinks you had Sunny killed. What did he do? Threaten to expose the ring?”

  Copenhagen’s eyes widened. “I’m glad to see the old gears grinding, Lola, but you’re sadly far from the mark.” She reached into her desk. Lola tensed.

  Copenhagen brought out a small black book. “Look familiar? We buy them by the hundreds. What I sent you is nothing but gibberish. I knew you’d been following Arbogast that day. So I gave you a little something to think about. I planned for you to show it to him. I hoped you’d wade right in, throw your weight around. Toss it in his face, even. And I was right.” She paused, waiting, but Lola said nothing. “Still haven’t figured it out?” Copenhagen’s smile was all teeth. “We’ve been trying to catch him for months. The extortion ring is Arbogast’s brainchild, not mine. I wanted you to use that ledger, to push him into doing something to tip his hand.”

  Copenhagen shook her head.

  “We’d known about the ring for months before we finally narrowed it down to Arbogast. So we recruited Sunny. As I said, he was desperate for money. We paid him regularly and he gathered information for us. He confirmed our theories.”

  Lola considered the other woman’s explanation. “Arbogast said he met Sunny after he was already working for you.”

  “Two stories, one truth. Whom do you trust more, Arbogast or me?” said Copenhagen. “A tight spot, isn’t it?”

  Lola narrowed her eyes. “Did you send Sunny down South?”

  “No. I tried to get him arrested before he disappeared.”

  “Is that what pushed him into becoming a drug mule?”

  Copenhagen shook her head. “You still don’t understand, do you?”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Lucille was the mastermind behind that operation. Narcotics affect Ghosts as much as Hosts, Lola. Ghosts can become addicts as easily as if they were still living. Imagine poor Sunny, trying to reform, fighting his body’s dependence but still under siege from his own dead sister’s addiction.” Copenhagen shrugged. “Lucille must have sent him South. She must have made him swallow those terrible balloons.”

  “Why’d you try to sic the cops on him? Before he disappeared?”

  “Sunny tried to extort more money from me. He threatened to tell Arbogast of our surveillance and then dismantle the entire ring. I refused. An arrest was supposed to take care of Sunny without tipping his co-conspirators.”

  “He must have got wind of the cops and that pushed him into a bad decision. You’re as responsible as anyone.”

  “Which is to say, no one was responsible, least of all Sunny himself.” Copenhagen shrugged. “At any rate, Lucille undoubtedly dictated the timing.”

  “Why didn’t you arrest Arbogast when he was here?”

  “He threatened to expose Mayor in the Herald as the head of this extortion ring.”

  “Mayor?” asked Lola skeptically. “How is he involved in any of this?”

  “As far as I know, he isn’t. But Arbogast swears he’s doctored up papers that say otherwise.”

  “No one would believe that,” countered Lola. “What would Arbogast possibly have against Mayor?” She shook her head. “It makes less sense than you sending me that ledger book.”

  “I’m not taking the chance that someone will believe it,” repli
ed Copenhagen. “Are you?” She paused. “Or perhaps, you think this a perfect opportunity to take revenge.” She eyed Lola speculatively. “Is that it? You’d prefer Mayor humiliated and exposed as a lying cheat.”

  “I’m not doing your dirty work,” said Lola. “You’ve got plenty of muscle to bring one simple accountant in. You should’ve arrested him when you had the chance.”

  “Use your other muscle, Lola, please, the one in your head.” Copenhagen narrowed her eyes. “You need to find Arbogast, quickly. Clearly, Sunny’s death has driven him mad. How else to explain this bizarre plan to frame Mayor? You need to find him,” she repeated, “because you owe it to him. There’s no way for him to reach Mayor that doesn’t end badly for him. You owe it to him to find him and stop him. For his own good.”

  “I heard you the first time,” said Lola, a snarl in her voice. She stared at Copenhagen as she considered her options. Copenhagen kept a neutral expression as the silence stretched out. Finally, Lola said, “This stinks and we both know it. Keep your money. I’m not on your dime. When I find him, I’m taking him into the cop shop.”

  Copenhagen nodded genially. “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Lola glared suspiciously at her a moment longer, but Copenhagen’s earnest expression didn’t waver.

  * * *

  When Lola got back to her office, she half-expected Arbogast in the waiting room. Instead, she got four angry cops and little space to manoeuver.

  “Where is he?” asked Luke.

  Lola refused to squeeze past any of them. She stood in her doorway and crossed her arms, slowly. “Have a seat, why don’t you, Luke.” She nodded to the others. “Bednarski, Tsu, Marks.”

  “This ain’t a social call,” said Luke. He pushed off from the wall he was holding up and took a step toward Lola. “Where’s the junkie’s boyfriend?”

  “I lost him.” She faced Bednarski. “What about you? Did he ditch you too?”

  The big cop nodded curtly. “Who were the two palookas handling you?”

  Lola considered her answer. “A coupla monkeys working for the Assistant Deputy Commissioner of Gaming.” She looked to the two Vice cops. They gave her nothing.

  Marks spoke. “Why the rough stuff? Client unhappy with your work?”

  Lola made an impatient noise in the back of her throat. “Copenhagen’s not much for hands-on work, Marks. Why get her hands dirty when hired thugs work so much better?”

  “Sounds personal,” commented Bednarski.

  “Have you ever met her?” asked Lola. The big man shook his head. Lola spoke slowly, “Of course, it’s personal. She’s a nasty piece of work.” She looked at each of the men in turn. “Look, are we square here?”

  “Far from it,” answered Inspector Tsu. “You owe us some legwork.”

  “I’m not some Saturday night frail, Tsu. I don’t owe you anything. You got your new leads. I didn’t get in your way and now, the Assistant Deputy Commissioner’s taken me off the case. I’m out of your hair. What more do you want?”

  “The junkie’s boyfriend,” repeated Luke.

  “Why you’re a regular broken record, Luke. You must be a helluva hit at cocktail parties.”

  Luke stepped even closer. Lola could smell Chinese tobacco, overlaid with an angry tang. She met his eyes calmly even as she readied for a fight.

  “Leave the smart talk for the scum you work with, Starke,” Luke said in a low voice. “You’re not among friends here.”

  “Back. Off,” she replied. Luke waited a beat before stepping back. A twitch played around his lips. Lola continued. “What’s your interest in Arbogast, Luke?” She gestured to the two gwai cops. “I know why they’re looking for him, but how does he connect to your gambling ring?”

  Luke stared at Lola. It was Tsu who replied.

  “We hear he’s a gold mine of information. Likely knows a lot about the City’s mah-jongg operations.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Copenhagen.”

  Lola took a calming breath and began again, “Arbogast said he was leaving town. Copenhagen wants me to find him. She thinks he’s a nut with a gripe. You think he’s a murder suspect. I think he’s scared to death of her. You’re the cops. You find out why.”

  “What about you?” asked Bednarski. “What do you owe him?”

  Lola’s lips tightened into a thin slash. “Out. All of you.”

  The cops looked at one another, passing an inscrutable glance around, before taking their leave. Lola thought Luke might bump her on his way past, but Tsu nudged him away. Luke grimaced and walked on. Lola stood in the hall, watching them. No one spoke as the elevator ground its way up. The men entered one by one. Last was Marks. He turned, gave Lola a considering look, then disappeared into the lift. Lola heard the lift-boy’s cheerful voice. She turned away.

  Lola entered her office, thoughts grim, teeth grinding. She snatched the phone up and growled at the operator, knowing it was futile. No one picked up, and she imagined the telephone echoing through Arbogast’s empty house.

  Still standing, Lola called her mother next. Aubrey didn’t even have to insist, although he did, as a matter of form.

  “Lola, what is this about?” Grace sounded exhausted.

  “Mother, has Mayor cancelled your engagement tonight? Are you still going to see him? Tonight?”

  “No, yes and yes,” Grace answered.

  “He hasn’t cancelled?” repeated Lola.

  “Darling, he can’t. It’s too complicated and none of my business to explain, but the simple answer is, he can’t cancel and he can’t postpone it. Tonight is the only time for the—,” but she didn’t finish.

  “Mother, you can’t go,” Lola broke in. “There’s something going on. I can’t explain. You might be in danger.”

  “Lola, we’ve been through this so many times, you know the lines as well as I do.”

  Lola surprised herself by saying: “Then let me accompany you.”

  “Absolutely not,” replied her mother. “It’s not my decision to make, and I know Mayor cannot allow it.” She softened her tone. “Darling, I know it’s difficult to understand but this has nothing to do with you.”

  “It does now, godsdammit,” said Lola.

  “Please don’t make this even harder for me. It’s not my choice to make. I’m sorry.” Grace rang off.

  Lola slammed the receiver down, then quickly picked it back up. “Juniper 387.” Her lip curled up in a snarl.

  “Hello?” answered an urbane voice.

  “St. John,” said Lola. “You’ve got to talk sense into her.”

  “I’ll do no such thing, unless you come clean with me.”

  “Dammit,” exploded Lola. “Stop harping on that, man. That’s not what’s important. She can’t go tonight. Not to his mansion. There’s a potential danger, a disgruntled employee—”

  St. John laughed. “I’m sure Mayor’s security can handle an unhappy worker. My team and I will be there to take care of Grace. She’s our only priority. Mayor will have to deal with his flunkies on his own.”

  “I want to go with her,” said Lola.

  “You’ll only muddy the waters, girl. Let us do our jobs, eh? I’ve been at this longer than you’ve been walking, Lola. I know how to protect Grace.”

  St. John rang off. Lola threw the receiver onto its hook, listening to it clatter uselessly.

  “What are we going to do?” asked Aubrey.

  Lola clenched her jaw. “What else is there?”

  She took to the streets, driving aimlessly at first while she thought over the conversation with Copenhagen. She knew she was missing something. There had to be another angle. Instinct was screaming that Copenhagen was lying through her perfect pearly-whites. The problem was that her story was just as plausible as Arbogast’s. It truly
was a case of “he said-she said,” and Lola was certain Copenhagen would have the better proof, regardless of the truth.

  Cursing at her own indecision, Lola turned toward Arbogast’s house once again. It was a lousy long shot, but it was what she had. She took deep breaths of the lemon-scented air as she drove down the main boulevard of Southern Plains, trying to clear her head. All too soon, she arrived at Arbogast’s patch of sidewalk. Jed Wing was outside on his lawn. He watched Lola pull up, a sad cast to his haggard face. He tapped an unlit pipe against his thigh.

  “You’re too late,” he said by way of greeting. “He’s gone.”

  Lola fought the urge to curse long and loudly. “Did he tell you where, Mr. Wing? It’s important.” Wing shook his head. “Please, Mr. Wing, I’m on his side.”

  “You misunderstand,” the older man replied. “Bodewell told me you’d likely come here. He was agitated. I thought he was overwrought by Sunny’s death. I tried to get him to come inside, to my house. I didn’t think his house was...”

  “When did he leave?” asked Lola when Wing didn’t finish his thought aloud.

  “What’s going on?” Wing ignored her question. “Why are you searching for Bodewell? Was Sunny murdered? That’s what Bodewell thinks. I’m not sure what to think. The police, this morning, they said it was an accidental death. Why does Bodewell say Sunny was murdered?”

  “Take pity on him, for gods’ sake,” said Aubrey. “He looks ready to keel.”

  “Here,” said Lola. She took him by the elbow and led him up his front steps and into the chair. He stared at the pipe in his hand for a few seconds before settling it lightly in the ashtray. “I’m sure it’s been a long day for you.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Miss Starke,” said the older man. “Bodewell seemed to think you truly were trying to help him.” He eyed Lola coolly. “He also said there was nothing you could do for him.”

  “I’m doing my best. I need to locate Mr. Arbogast as quickly as possible.” Lola asked about possible other homes in the mountains or perhaps up the coast. She asked about the yacht in the photograph she’d seen of Arbogast and Sunny. Wing thought it belonged to a colleague from the Gaming Commission, but he didn’t have a name. Lola doggedly kept up her questions, but nothing new came up.