Lost Bullet

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Lost Bullet Page 10

by Malcolm Rose


  “Where and with what velocity?”

  Luke smiled. He knew that his mobile wouldn’t query the order because it wasn’t illegal. Even so, Malc’s indifference to the strange command was unsettling. “Calculate where to hit me on the face, hard enough to give me an impressive black eye but not too much pain, if you don’t mind.”

  “Calculation completed. Are you ready?”

  “Yes. Get it over with, then I’ll recover with a pomegran...”

  Malc crashed into him, hitting him just above the cheek bone. “Ouch!” Luke staggered back under the impact but he didn’t fall over. He exhaled and touched his smarting face. “Thanks,” he said. “Not too bad. I hope you got it right. I need a good bruise.”

  “The skin is injured sufficiently to cause some internal bleeding. Losing oxygen, the blood will turn dark blue. That colour will be the bruise. Later, the haemoglobin will decompose to brown, green and then yellow bile pigments before repair is completed.”

  “Good. That’ll set me up nicely.”

  ****

  Luke’s second bruising came when he returned to his room after breakfast, but this time it wasn’t physical. Malc announced, “The Authorities have turned down your plan to trace Lost Bullet because it requires an excessive number of agents.”

  “No! That’s... pathetic. I bet Birmingham would’ve given me twice that number.”

  “Irrelevant.”

  Luke shook his head in frustration and swore under his breath.

  Malc said, “However, they have stationed the same agent outside the Toback house, as requested.”

  “Very generous,” Luke muttered sarcastically.

  “She will inform me as soon as she sights Samuel.”

  Cleo McGrath did not have any useful information for Luke, either. Through Malc, she told him, “Our bouncer chased away a group of youngsters but that’s all. Most of the time, he was on the door, keeping out anyone suspicious, rather than checking for people creeping round the back of the school.”

  “He didn’t wander around or see smoke?”

  “I’m afraid he was in the entrance hall, sheltering from the weather, at the time.”

  “I see.” Luke didn’t ask any more. He let his tone express his disappointment in the security guard. Before finishing the call, though, he found out from Cleo that Owen Goode would be at Soho Community Centre all morning.

  At least Luke had more success with requesting an identity card for Owen. It was enough for The Authorities that a forensic investigator and his Mobile Aid to Law and Crime were both willing to vouch for a boy who had assisted a major investigation. They were even more impressed to hear that Owen Goode might be persuaded to lure the culprit into a trap. Such a cooperative citizen deserved to take a full part in London society with a valid identity card. It would be delivered to the Central Hotel before the end of the day.

  “Right,” Luke said. “My scheme for ambushing Lost Bullet is back in business. But this time, small is beautiful. Forget the agents. We’ll do it on our own, Malc. Or nearly on our own. We need one meeting place and one white as bait.”

  ****

  It wasn’t much of a community centre but, at the back, there was a small courtyard, surrounded by brick walls. There, in the drizzle that had replaced the teeming rain, Owen was acting as referee in an improvised game of four-a-side football with some young lads. For a while, Luke peered out from a doorway, watching but not encroaching on the action. Owen was shouting encouragement, never criticism, at each of the boys in turn. Luke was impressed that he knew all of the players by name. Taking the place of a proper sports instructor, Owen was probably doing a better job.

  As soon as Luke stepped into the fray, he was almost bowled over in the rush to get away. He felt as if he’d stumbled into a favourite roosting place, scaring and scattering every single bird from the area. Within seconds, he was standing in a dismal courtyard with only Owen for company. Startled by the effect he’d had on the game, he asked, “What happened?”

  Owen smiled at Luke’s innocence. “They don’t like school so they come here. They’re all right – good lads. But they’ll think an FI’s come to take them back. Or likely arrest them for the trouble they get into.”

  “Sorry. I only came to tell you about your identity card.”

  Owen looked surprised. “Oh. I didn’t think you’d... What about it?”

  “You can have it tomorrow.”

  His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What’s the deal?”

  “Let’s go inside,” Luke said, opening the door again.

  The centre boasted a tiny kitchen, a couple of working computer terminals with a telescreen in between, and a games room. Three elderly women were drinking tea. A man was reading his telescreen messages and two girls were playing table tennis. The place was untidy but it wasn’t a ruin and it seemed to keep the weather out.

  “I need your help,” Luke admitted quietly.

  “The card’s a bribe then.”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that but...”

  “Don’t like the sound of it. Tell you what. We’ll play pool for it instead. One game. You win, you keep the card. I win, I take the card and run.”

  Luke shook his head. “It’s not going to work like that. What’s the problem with helping out? I’ll get to arrest the person who shot you.”

  “Sounds dangerous to me.” Owen pointed to Luke’s bruised eye with his still bandaged hand.

  “I bumped my head on Malc, that’s all. And I haven’t told you what I want you to do yet.”

  “Afraid to take me on, eh?”

  “All right,” said Luke. “But here’s the rules. If you win, you get the identity card, no strings attached. If I win, you get the card after you’ve helped me out.”

  Less sure, Owen hesitated. Looking at Malc, he asked, “Is he any good at pool?”

  Malc replied, “I respond only to...”

  “It’s okay, Malc,” Luke said. “You can answer him.”

  “Searching.” A few seconds later, the mobile announced, “I have no data on his skill level at this game.”

  Luke cut in quickly before Malc could tell Owen that he had a knack for sports requiring careful aim. “Is it a deal?” he asked.

  Owen thought about it for a few moments and then, showing his confidence again, said, “I’ll set it up.” While he positioned the triangle of balls, he said, “No cheating, this time. That,” he said, nodding towards Malc, “mustn’t tell you when you’ve got a pot lined up.”

  “Never crossed my mind,” Luke lied.

  Twenty minutes later, having lost the game on the final black, Owen agreed to meet Luke in the same community centre early tomorrow morning.

  Luke looked into Owen’s face and trusted him.

  Chapter Twenty

  Luke took off as soon as the agent in Cranleigh Walkway reported that she had spotted Samuel. While Luke ran, rain beat down on his coat and hood. At Euston Plaza, he slowed to a walk so that he would not appear breathless when he arrived at Rachel’s apartment. With his identity card, he opened the front door of the house and then sprang up the stairs to the top floor. He did not march straight into Rachel’s set of rooms but instead banged on her door.

  Rachel was astounded. She stared at him, from top to bottom, and then stood to one side. “You’d better come in. You look like a drowned rat.”

  “Cheers. I just came to say thank you for... Oh. Sorry. It’s... Samuel, isn’t it?”

  Samuel was cradling the twin brothers, one resting on each arm. He glanced at Malc and then at Luke. He nodded his head in guarded greeting.

  “Sorry,” Luke said, jerking a thumb towards Malc. “We’re both dripping.”

  Neither Rachel nor Samuel said a word.

  “It’s all right,” he said, emerging from his coat. “It’s purely social, not business. Mind you,” he added, looking at Samuel, “I’m glad you’re here. I was going to warn you.”

  “Warn me? What of?”

  “Don’t panic.
I reckon I can smooth it over.” Luke dropped into a chair.

  “Smooth what over?”

  “An auto-barge got ransacked the other day. Monday, it was. The investigator in charge has come up with a few names and I’m afraid yours is one of them.” Luke hoped that neither of them would realize that he didn’t know Samuel’s surname.

  “Mine?”

  Luke nodded. “I’m having a word with her. I think I can... you know... put her off. But first, you’d better tell me if you were one of the bandits.”

  Samuel exchanged a guilty expression with Rachel but did not respond.

  “It’s okay. I know how you feel. No one got hurt. A few people up north had to do without new coats, shoes and fruit. So what? They’ll survive.”

  Samuel glanced down towards his children. “I’ve got kids to look after. I’ve got to do what’s best for them.”

  Luke noted that the backs of Samuel’s hands were as hairless as the twins’. “Sure. Don’t worry about it. If all else fails, I’m pretty good at sneaking into computers by the back door and altering lists of names before they go off to The Authorities. It’s only fair that I help a fellow Visionary. By the way, were any other Visionaries in on it? Am I going to have to help out someone else if another name crops up?”

  “No. I was the only one from church.”

  “Fine. There’s just one thing...”

  “What’s that?” asked Samuel.

  “Well, I am investigating a murder. I talked to Ethan about it and he thinks I’m doing the right thing. Murder’s a sin.”

  “What’s it got to do with me?”

  “Nothing,” Luke replied. “It’s just that it happened outside Thomas’s Hospital near that barge – and more or less at the same time. You didn’t happen to see anything suspicious, did you?”

  Samuel shook his head.

  “Did you see a woman coming out of the hospital?”

  “No.”

  “Were any of the bandits carrying weapons?”

  “I don’t,” Samuel replied, “but the others do. All of them.”

  “What sort of weapons?” Luke asked.

  One of the babies stirred, opened its eyes and coughed before settling down again. “Knives mainly. A couple have stingers, I think.”

  Luke grimaced. “That’s not God’s way, is it? Any other sort of guns?”

  Samuel shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

  “Did you hear a shot being fired?”

  Samuel smiled. “No chance. There was a thunderstorm going on. You don’t hear anything else when God roars.”

  “Respect,” Luke murmured.

  Getting bolder, Samuel said, “You look like you’ve been through it.”

  Luke touched the bruised skin around his eye. “No problem. I got into an argument with a white boy and he had a go at me. No great harm done but he got away. Still, I know where he lives. I won’t forget. Anyway...” He stood up and began to put his coat back on. Smiling at Rachel, he said, “I only came to say thanks for introducing me to Ethan and the Church, and here I am, talking about a case when I promised I wasn’t going to. I’ll see you both tonight. Yes?”

  “Yes,” they answered simultaneously.

  Outside again, passing a sodden Euston Plaza, Luke said, “The Authorities can have their ransacked auto-barge back again. I’ve finished with it. Release it, Malc.”

  “Transmitting message.”

  “And I don’t think I’ll need the evidence you recorded on board. I’m sure it’s nothing to do with Lost Bullet now.” He paused and then said, “I didn’t smell any garlic around Samuel this time but I bet you did.”

  “Confirmed.”

  “How about gunshot residues?”

  “I did not detect any traces.”

  “I can’t stop you reporting Samuel as a bandit, can I, Malc?”

  “No. My programming requires me to transmit his confession to The Authorities.”

  “All right. But add a note. It’s very important. Right now, they mustn’t do anything like arrest him or question him because, if they do, they’ll ruin my murder investigation. They’ll probably get me killed as well. Got that?”

  “Logged.”

  ****

  Luke spent lunchtime talking to Dr Coppard, updating him on the progress of the investigation into his wife’s death. Then, Luke persuaded him to give up his apartment in Marylebone Freeway tomorrow.

  The doctor shrugged as if the quarters he’d shared with Anna Suleman meant nothing to him now. “If you think you can catch her killer there, it’s yours. I spend most of my time at the hospital anyway. I’m working it out of my system, you see. It’s the only way to stop the grief getting on top of me.”

  Luke nodded sympathetically. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  In the afternoon, Luke moved on to the psychiatric ward. There, he learnt nothing from the barely conscious fourth member of the Pairing Committee. But one of the nurses was particularly helpful. “He put his hand up and touched my cheek this morning,” she told Luke, mimicking her patient’s action with her own hand. “Then he said, ‘Smooth, like a woman’s.’ I smiled and said, ‘I am a woman,’ but he just looked puzzled. ‘No. Him. The one who...’ He said something like, ‘Just his eyes, nose and mouth. That’s all I saw. Smooth, like a woman.’ That was the gist of it anyway.”

  “You definitely think he was talking about a man?”

  “Certain.”

  “He wasn’t confused, talking about a woman?”

  The nurse shook her head. “He said ‘him’ or ‘his’ at least twice. Besides, he wouldn’t say, ‘Like a woman,’ if it was a woman, would he?”

  Luke nodded and smiled. “Thanks. That’s useful.”

  ****

  When Luke returned to the hotel in the early evening, Mr Morgan broke off a conversation with Elodie to call him over to the desk. “You’ve had a delivery,” the receptionist said, taking an envelope from a pigeonhole and thrusting it towards him.

  “Thanks,” Luke replied, feeling the rigid plastic of an identity card through the paper. “You’re looking fit and well.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’m fine. Anything else I can do for you before I go off duty?”

  “Not at the moment,” said Luke as he headed for the elevator.

  Almost as soon as he walked into his apartment and sat down, the telescreen came to life. Jade peered out of the wall at him and cried, “What have you been doing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve got a black eye!”

  “Oh, that. You should see the other guy. Actually, it’s Malc and I put a really big dent in his armour plating.”

  “That is incorrect...”

  “Now you’ve spoiled it,” Luke said to Malc. “There goes my hard-man image.” He turned back to the telescreen. “We bumped into each other. That’s all.”

  Jade looked at him severely. “You’re planning something, FI Harding.”

  “Sound technicians make noise, investigators make plans.”

  “Huh. Sound technicians analyse noise as well. Assistant Forensic Investigator Jade Vernon’s been at it again.”

  “Oh?” Luke prompted, suddenly alert.

  “I’ve been trying out some more enhancements on that horrid recording you sent me. You know, after the last gunshot, there’s something faint. Very, very faint. I can only just pick it out before chaos kicks in, but there’s footsteps.”

  “That’ll be Lost Bullet retreating. I guess he took off after doing three-quarters of the job because he heard people coming. So?”

  “Well, I’ve been recording a lot of people starting to run and doing comparisons with your soundtrack,” said Jade.

  “And?”

  “Your man doesn’t run evenly. His timing’s out and he goes down more heavily on one side than the other.”

  “Are you saying he’s got a limp?”

  “Yes. Real or faked, I don’t know, but there’s a definite limp there.”

  Luke hesitated. He
was thinking that a limp might mean Lost Bullet had a pain in one leg, and that might mean he used morphine from poppy-seed capsules.

  “Luke?”

  “Yes?” he replied.

  “Take care. Don’t do anything rash. Every time I listen to that soundtrack, I get a really bad feeling.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  This time, Luke knew where he was going so the underground tunnel seemed less threatening. Yet he was still nervy. He feared what would happen if the Visionaries discovered that he was a fraud. Without Malc, he felt as if he’d left a bit of himself behind. The mobile had been designed to enhance Luke’s ability to see, hear and smell. Without those heightened senses, Luke was as weak – and as strong – as any sixteen-year-old. Even if he identified Lost Bullet at the Church, without Malc to oversee the procedure and uphold the law, he could not act.

  Behaving like a new and eager recruit to the Church, he turned up early. His real aim was to watch the members arriving, hoping to spot a man with a limp. Maybe it was because of the poor lighting in the cavern, maybe it was because the Visionaries entered in groups, but Luke didn’t notice anyone walking unevenly.

  Ethan Loach’s sermon wasn’t a repeat of the previous day’s. He concentrated much more on God’s love of His creations, rather than His punishments. Much to Luke’s relief, the Church’s snake did not make a guest appearance this time. And during his animated preaching, Ethan Loach did not show the slightest hint of a hobble as he paced back and forth.

  Even if he had been among friends, Luke would have felt awkward. His mass of hair and lack of church uniform – dark suit, light shirt and red tie – made him the odd one out. He hoped that his lack of faith was not also visible to everyone.

  Afterwards, Luke and his black eye became the centre of attention for a while.

  “Even in this light, I can see that’s a beauty,” Ethan said. “What happened?”

  Luke pretended to be coy. “I’m not sure I should...”

  “I think you should,” Ethan replied with a smile.

 

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