Chameleon Assassin (Chameleon Assassin Series Book 1)

Home > Science > Chameleon Assassin (Chameleon Assassin Series Book 1) > Page 9
Chameleon Assassin (Chameleon Assassin Series Book 1) Page 9

by BR Kingsolver


  The next bar I tried was a vampire hangout. As Jasmine, I fit right in. Non-vamps made up about half the patrons and were mostly girls. Maybe boys weren’t into being dominated, or maybe they were less willing to admit it. The girls ranged from nerds like me to sweet church girls to goths, all lusting after a good-looking vampire to take advantage of them.

  After observing the scene for a while, I realized a lot of the non-vamps were on luvdaze. I didn’t see any vampires who displayed its symptoms. Further observation led me to believe it was the date rape drug of choice. The last thing I would do in that bar was accept a drink from a vamp. I had thought the drug was only administered via a jet injector, but evidently it also had an effect if taken orally.

  I sidled up to a table where I had seen a vampire lad drop something in a young girl’s drink. About half the drink remained, but she was zoned out and making out with him. I took the glass as I walked past. Hiding it in my bag, I called Wil and left the club. He met me across the street.

  “Can you get this analyzed?” I asked, handing him the glass.

  “Sure. What’s the scoop?”

  “I think it’s luvdaze. If not, it seems to have a similar effect. It’s being passed as a powder in small capsules.” I motioned with my head toward the club. “The vamps are using it like a date rape drug. The victims are awfully frisky, though. They aren’t knocked out. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

  His eyebrows rose.

  “The other thing is the vamps aren’t using it themselves. I’d guess it’s cheaper than what we’ve seen in the jet injectors.”

  “I wonder why we haven’t seen it before.”

  “Probably because you weren’t looking for it. You’re only concerned about the luvdaze because it’s being targeted to corporate kids.”

  Chapter 9

  I called Shannon around two in the afternoon the next day and she answered right away.

  “Hi, it’s Jasmine. We met at the Drop Inn.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” She didn’t sound as though she remembered.

  “You said you might be able to hook me up with a quantity.”

  “Oh. Yeah, right.” She was silent for a minute. “What are you doing around six?”

  “Nothing special.”

  “Meet me at Sluggo’s. I’ll introduce you to a guy I know.”

  I had no idea what or where Sluggo’s was. I looked it up and found it was a working man’s pub near the manufacturing district. Not the place corporate university girls normally hung out. The subway didn’t run there. I’d either have to take a bus or ride my motorcycle. I decided on the motorcycle but changed out the license plate and parked it a block away from the bar.

  I spotted Shannon as soon as I walked in. A perky young blonde girl stood out amongst working men drinking beer from the can. She was sitting with a man in a booth near the back.

  I walked up and sat down next to her, across from her friend. It wasn’t either of the men from the Drop Inn. Shannon introduced us. Forty years old with a five o’clock shadow and a beer gut, Fred wasn’t what I expected. The men at the club wore suits and carried an air of sophistication.

  “You want quantity. What kind of quantity?” he asked without preamble.

  “What kind of prices?” I countered.

  “Seventy-five a hundred.”

  I shook my head. “Too much.”

  He gave Shannon an exasperated glance, then turned it on me. “I thought you said you wanted quantity?”

  “How much for a thousand?” I asked.

  His eyebrows shot up and he straightened in his seat. “You got money for a thousand?”

  “Depends on the price. I can’t make anything buying at seventy-five.”

  “Give it to you for fifty.”

  We haggled for half an hour and I worked him down to thirty-five.

  “Show me the money,” he said.

  “Show me the goods. I’m not stupid enough to carry that kind of money around.” I turned to Shannon. “Where’s a good place to make the exchange?”

  “There’s a bar across the street from the university called Domino’s. This time tomorrow.”

  Fred nodded, so I did, too.

  Shannon walked out with me. “What do you want for your cut?” I asked her.

  “Five thousand or a hundred lot. If you sell nine hundred in Calgary at seventy-five a hundred, you’ll almost double your money. Can I drop you any place?”

  She stopped by what I recognized was her car.

  “No, I have a scooter around the corner. Thanks. Let’s make it a hundred doses, okay?” I didn’t want to have to come up with more money.

  She drove off, and I blended into the wall across the street from the bar. I waited for an hour for Fred to come out and then I followed him. To my surprise, he went to a bus stop and waited.

  When he got on, I retrieved my motorcycle and followed the bus. Two transfers later, we were in a part of town I recognized, a few blocks from Miz Rollins’ orphanage. I locked the motorcycle to a utility pole and prayed it would still be there when I returned.

  In that part of town, I felt safer in my own form, so I changed. I was known down there, and at least some of the street people knew not to mess with me.

  Fred didn’t go very far. A couple of gang toughs intercepted him and escorted him about five blocks to an old tenement. Gang members, boys and girls, lounged around the outside. Fred went in and came out again half an hour later. The same two guys escorted him back toward the bus stop.

  I followed them for three blocks until five gangbangers stepped into the street about thirty feet in front of me. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw movement to both sides and I could hear people behind me.

  “You the one they call Miz Libby?” the largest tough asked. He was the only one old enough to need a shave.

  “Who wants to know?”

  “I’m Jorey. You took Glenda. She’s mine and I want her back.”

  “Sorry. I’m afraid you’ll have to get over her. She’s gone.”

  He gave me an unhappy scowl. “That’s too bad. I was wantin her today. I guess you’ll just have to do.”

  “I don’t think so. You’re not my type.”

  His leer told me I was his type. Female. “I wasn’t askin if ya wanted to. Yur gonna find out yur everbody’s type.” That brought whistles, catcalls, and jeers from his buddies. The situation looked to be on the verge of getting out of hand, and the idea of being touched by any of them was enough to turn my stomach.

  I took my pistol out of my bag and shot him in the chest. The guy standing next to him raised his hand so I shot him, too. The silencer made the whole scene surreal, quiet and in a type of slow motion. Whirling around, I saw that one of them had moved within a couple of yards of me. I blurred my form and took off at a run. As I passed the kid blocking my way, I struck him in the throat with the edge of my hand.

  Whether it was the death of their leader or my subsequent actions, I seemed to confuse the other gang members because no one followed me. Or maybe they had to hold a meeting to choose a new leader. In any case, they looked around for someone to tell them what to do, and since no one stepped forward, they did nothing.

  I uttered my second prayer of the day when I reached my motorcycle and found it intact. I got on and fired it up. As I rode away, I cursed my luck. I’d hoped to waylay Fred and take the drugs. Instead, I’d have to come up with the money to pay him. At least I knew where he’d gone to make his buy. I wasn’t sure how that was going to help me, though.

  I called Wilbur as soon as I got back to Jasmine’s apartment, and he came five minutes later. The first thing he said was, “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. Why shouldn’t I be?”

  He gave me one of those quizzical raised-eyebrow looks. “You just had a run-in with a gang and killed two people.”

  “Oh, that. Jorey had it coming. That’s not why I called you.” His eyebrows shot up but I ignored his reaction. He’d have done the same thing. You didn’t wander arou
nd in places like that unless you were either prepared or stupid.

  After listening to an account of my afternoon, he said, “I don’t understand the problem. You planned on ripping this Fred guy off for the drugs. What’s changed?”

  “I planned on getting the drugs before our meeting tomorrow,” I explained. “That way I wouldn’t have to pay for them. I can’t rob him with Shannon there. I may need her in the future.”

  “Why is she going to be there?”

  “Duh. She wants her payoff for setting up the deal. Do you think she trusts a person she just met from out of town to hunt her down and pay her five grand?”

  He rubbed his chin. “I guess not.”

  “Right. So, I need thirty-five thousand from Blaine.”

  “Oh, is that all? That shouldn’t be a problem.” He pulled out his phone as I stared at him. The ease with which corporate types tossed money around always appalled me.

  He wandered off into the bathroom, and when he came back he said, “Done. He transferred it to Jasmine’s account. He said he’ll recover the money after your meeting.”

  I had a card with Jasmine’s name, but I hadn’t used it for more than a couple of drinks. As for Fred, Blaine evidently felt the man had served his purpose.

  “Wil, I’m willing to bet that Fred didn’t pay for those drugs up front. If he doesn’t turn up with the money, someone’s going to be upset.”

  Wilbur chuckled and said, “We’ll put that place under surveillance. It might get interesting.”

  I assumed he meant electronic surveillance. If you had the resources, and Blaine did, you could drop a dozen drones on the rooftops around the drug house and follow anyone leaving.

  “It definitely will if the gang didn’t pay up front. We’re talking some large numbers for a gang living in the slums.”

  I met Shannon the next day and we waited for Fred. She seemed anxious and nervous, and I wondered if I should be also.

  “Is there a problem?” I asked.

  “Huh? Oh, no. I just have someplace I need to be,” she said. “How much do you like to do it?”

  It took me a second to figure out what she meant, but I had worked out an answer in advance. “I’ve only done it a couple of times with my boyfriend. I don’t think I’d want to if he wasn’t around.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.”

  “Mark’s your boyfriend?”

  “Used to be. His parents are a problem. They’ve stuck him in some rehab center.”

  “So who do you do it with?”

  She grinned. “Whoever I want. Sometimes I just pick a guy that looks good.”

  “Did you ever do it alone?” I asked. “You know, without being with a guy?”

  “Oh, hell no. That would be a real drag. I can’t even imagine it.”

  Interesting.

  Fred showed up. He handed me a box wrapped in brown paper and said, “Take it to the head and check it out.”

  In the ladies’ room, I went in a stall and opened the box. The jet injectors were packaged in clear plastic clamshells with ten in a package. Each clamshell was about the size of my hand. Very professional, very corporate. I had checked, and a one-use jet injector ran about two creds if bought in bulk. The drug maker then filled them with a dose of liquid drug and sealed them. And if you were producing something for sale in a store, you probably put them in a plastic clamshell.

  What basement chemist had a machine for making plastic clamshells? The whole thing stank of some pharmaceutical corporation selling drugs out the back door. Or at least some rogue employees.

  I counted a hundred clamshells, then put ninety of them back in the box and rewrapped the paper around it. The other ten I put in my bag.

  When I sat down at the table with Fred and Shannon, I nodded and pushed a card across the table. He scanned it and gave me a satisfied smile.

  “Nice doing business with you,” he said. “Come back and see me next time you’re in town.”

  We watched him go out the door.

  “Do you have your car?” I asked Shannon.

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s go out there and I’ll give you your cut.”

  We sat in her car and I pulled the ten clamshells out of my bag. “Thanks. I probably won’t be back in town until the end of the semester, but I’ll give you a call.”

  “No problem. You’ll be the hit of the party.” She smiled as I got out of her car.

  Wil was waiting for me at Jasmine’s apartment.

  “You were right,” he said as I opened the door. “Fred headed straight toward the place where he got the drugs. He had siphoned off five grand from that card you gave him, so I assume the rest was to pay his supplier.”

  “You’ve already taken him in?”

  “Yeah. He’s headed for interrogation as we speak.

  I opened the box and let him see what was inside. He stared at the neatly packaged jet injectors for a while, then his eyes rose to mine.

  “You gotta be kidding me,” he said.

  “Rather professional, don’t you think? Most small dealers are going to buy multiples of ten, take them out of the packaging, and sell them as singles. I never saw any packaging like this in the clubs. But Shannon didn’t blink an eye.”

  Wilbur pursed his mouth like he’d tasted something bitter. “I have a feeling that girl isn’t paying money for a lot of her drugs. Did Fred look like a drug user to you?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Did he look like someone who liked hot young girls?

  “Oh, yeah. You’re probably right. I have no idea how he got into this sort of thing, though. The guys I see selling at the clubs are younger, more sophisticated.”

  Wil chuckled. “That license number you gave me? We’ve identified him as a mobster with the Donofrio family. He works for Fred’s brother-in-law.” Alonzo Donofrio was head of the largest criminal enterprise in the city.

  “Shannon knows both of them,” I said.

  “I wonder who else she knows?” Wil mused. “And why she’s going to Fred for the quantity rather than the guy who’s in the scene? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “The mob link is worrisome, but as far as I know, Alonzo Donofrio isn’t in the drug business. Probably lower level guys freelancing. What doesn’t make any sense is how Fred is connected to a gang in the slum,” I said. “It seems these drugs are taking a roundabout route from fancy manufacturer to fancy consumer.”

  “What doesn’t make any sense is this packaging,” Wil said. “I’ve seen everything from cocaine to heroin to weed to LSD to dozens of designer drugs. No one goes to this kind of trouble for street drugs.”

  “Kinda my thought also. Do you want to take these in to Blaine? Just leave me a ten-pack in case I need it for something.” I stashed the drugs in the refrigerator. When I walked back into the living room, I asked, “Did the results come back from that drink I gave you at the vampire bar?”

  “I almost forgot. Yes. It appears to be an analog of luvdaze. The concentration of the drug in that drink was about ten times more than what we’re finding in the jet injectors.”

  “Weaker, so they have to use more of it, but also a different method of delivery. I wonder if it’s as dangerous. Hey, I’m hungry. Want to grab something to eat?”

  We went to a Korean place down the street. About the time our food came, Wil got a call.

  “Someone showed up at that tenement where Fred got the drugs,” he said after hanging up. “We don’t know who it is, but the place erupted like shoving a stick in an anthill. He left, and we’re following him. Eat up and let’s see what’s going on.”

  After wolfing down half of my dinner, we trotted back to Jasmine’s place and jumped into Wil’s car. Nice ride, an expensive hybrid hydrogen-electric European sports car that cost more than most people’s annual salaries. I reassessed where he sat in the corporate hierarchy.

  “What makes you think this guy is something special?” I asked as he drove. “Maybe they followed Fred and saw him get
picked up.”

  “He was wearing a suit,” Wil said.

  That certainly didn’t sound like any gangbanger I knew.

  “You following him with a drone?”

  Wil gave me a sharp glance then turned his attention back to the road. “You sure know a lot for an indie.”

  “Reading is still free,” I said. “All it takes is a connection. Or would you be more comfortable if I was a conventional empty-headed female?” We were driving in a nice residential neighborhood, a long way from the slum where Fred bought the drugs.

  He laughed. “My mother is a university professor and my sister is a research physicist. Find someone else if you want to sell the woman as intellectually inferior shtick.”

  “You’re the underachiever in the family, huh?”

  His jaw tightened. I’d just pushed one of his buttons. He didn’t respond, though.

  Wil turned a corner, then abruptly pulled over to the curb.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  He held up his hand, and I could tell he was listening to someone on his earpiece. After a couple of minutes, he turned his eyes toward me and said, “The guy we’ve been following entered a house a few blocks from here. We’ve identified him as a cousin of Alonzo Donofrio.”

  “Well, that takes a little mystery out of things, doesn’t it?” I said. “I think I need to talk to Blaine about hazard pay.”

  “You’re already charging a risk premium,” Wil said.

  “Yeah, but I thought I was dealing with crazed druggies and gangbangers, not the mob. Some of those guys can shoot straight.”

  He snorted, caught himself, then gave it up and grinned at me. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  “Of course I know that. You’re slow.”

  He chuckled.

  Wil might have thought I was joking, but I wasn’t. I’d done a couple of jobs for Alonzo, including taking out his son-in-law. I wanted no part of anything he might view as disloyalty. Getting caught between the Chamber and the mob was my worst nightmare.

 

‹ Prev