Hard Press: The Evie Black Files

by Adam Nicholls

  “It’s a deal.”

  Evie and Nick followed the captain inside the lavish apartment and down the hallway to the bedroom. The room where the murder had taken place. Yep, Evie thought, that’s gotta be her—our woman of the hour. Once again smudged lipstick stained the mirror, eliminating any doubt.

  “This is it,” Moore said.

  Nick remained silent, looking around with disgust.

  Evie, however, soaked everything up. The scene was much like the last, except a body lay motionless on the bed. As the last one had reportedly been, this man was handcuffed to the bedpost, his naked body soaked in his own blood, his lifeless eyes frozen in a wide-open state of shock.

  “His name was James Harley. We suspect that his untimely demise resulted from whatever was in here.” Moore pointed at an open safe with the tip of his foot. “Probably a first date. We think that the killer went out with him, lured him back here, and somehow got him to open the safe. Then she…” He glanced over at the body. “Well, I don’t need to tell you what she did next.”

  “It’s crazy,” Nick said, finally snapping out of his traumatized state.

  While Captain Moore looked around the room, his back turned to them, Evie knelt to the floor and checked the pair of pants that lay crumpled in front of her. She rooted through the pockets, looking for evidence. But when she saw the captain turn around, she quickly stood up straight.

  “Right,” Moore said, coming their way. “You’ve seen all you need to. It was good to see you again, Miss Black. Don’t be a stranger now.”

  “I won’t.”

  Back in the elevator, Evie and Nick stood beside each other in silence. Their moods had been altered by the horrific scene in the bedroom—it was hard to be anything but morose.

  “Hey, what were you doing in there?” Nick asked.

  “In the bedroom?”

  “Yeah, I saw you do something with the victim’s pants.”

  “Oh.” Evie slipped the restaurant’s business card out of her sleeve. It fell perfectly into her hand, and she held it up proudly. “I was getting this. With any luck, this was where the killer dined last night.”

  A knowing smile stole across Nick’s face. “Very clever.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sanyasi’s Italian Restaurant was on one of the quietest side streets that Evie had ever seen. There wasn’t a pedestrian in sight. Even the roads were devoid of traffic, as if they knew that danger lurked.

  “It’s probably just in your head,” Nick said, as if reading her mind. “Come on.”

  When they got to the front door, they realized that Sanyasi’s was closed. The sign hanging from a string on the glass door said it wouldn’t open until seven in the evening. Nine hours from now. By then, another murder could take place, or someone could steal the story out from under them. Either way, it was bad news.

  “Wait—there’s something going on inside.”

  Evie turned to Nick, who peered through the window with cupped hands pressed between his forehead and the glass. “What is it?”

  “Not sure. I see a light… and movement.” He balled his hand into a fist and knocked heavily on the window in three solid taps. “Hello?”

  “Stop that,” Evie said. She had always liked to be secretive, even if that meant breaking into places. Banging on the window was likely the clumsiest way of failing.

  A shadowy figure appeared on the other side of the glass door, and Evie stepped back. The door opened, and a bell gave a little jingle. The man in front of them looked to be about forty, with black, shiny hair matted with grease. He frowned, his mottled and rough skin shiny with perspiration. Standing still and silent, he glared at them both.

  “Hi.” Evie jerked forward and almost stumbled, a false smile cemented on her face. “We’re from Vision Magazine, looking into the disappearance of a woman.” It was better to lie and save complication. “We think she might have been here last night. For dinner. With a man.”

  Greasy Hair glanced over at Nick, then back to Evie. His eyes went up and down, an inappropriate leering that caused nausea to bubble up in the back of her throat. “A magazine, huh? You ain’t cops, then, are you?” He sounded just like the mobsters from those old mafia movies.

  “Nope. Just journalists.”

  He looked over his shoulder, nodded to somebody in the back, and then opened the door up wider. “Come in, don’t speak unless spoken to, and no snooping. The boss is in the back.”

  The boss? Evie looked at Nick with concern, but he only raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Why the hell not?” She went on in, smelling the day-old sweat of the man as she passed him. Gross. “Where are we going?”

  “Follow me.” They meandered between tables covered in red-and-white-checked cloths through the darkened restaurant, where a dim lamp lit up a single corner booth. Four people sat around playing poker, and when they realized they had company, all of them stood.

  All of them, that was, but one.

  “Who have we here?” the sitting man asked.

  “Evie Black and Nick Rice,” Evie said, keen to show respect. They seemed the type of people to demand such a courtesy anyway, so why not give it before they were forced to? “We wanted to ask a couple of questions about a woman who may have dined here last night. Are you Mr. Sanyasi?”

  The man removed a cigar from his mouth, nodded, and gestured for them to sit.

  They did as commanded, and the men who had stood slid in next to them, sealing them inside the booth. Evie wondered briefly how Nick’s anxiety might handle this situation, but there were bigger things to concern herself with.

  “Tell me about this woman,” Sanyasi said, dunking the cigar into a glass of brandy and putting it to his lips.

  Evie panicked suddenly. She had no idea how to describe the woman. All she could do was play off what she knew of the victim. “She was probably seen with a man named James Harley. Maybe you have a reservation under that name?”

  Sanyasi nodded at the man who’d let them in. He shuffled away only to return moments later with a ledger.

  “Harley, you said?” The man shook his head, scanning up and down the book. “Nobody here by that name, boss.”

  “There you go,” Sanyasi said. “We can’t help you.”

  Nick got up to leave, but Evie clamped her hand around his arm and yanked him back down. “Then maybe he turned up without booking. If you would be kind enough to give us access to your security cameras, you would be quite helpful in potentially solving a murder case.”

  Laughter erupted around the table. She glanced around and each man’s face sported a sardonic grin. Taunting her. But not Sanyasi’s. He stared at Evie as if she’d insulted him with her request. “What did you say your name was?”

  “Evie.”

  “Well, Evie, I’m going to cut you a deal.” He rolled the end of his cigar around a glass ashtray, blowing a cloud of gray smoke into the air. “I’m going to ask you to turn around, leave, and never come back here. In return, you’ll still be able to walk out under your own power.”

  Evie’s insides tightened as she registered the threat.

  “Sounds like a good deal,” Nick said, squeezing past to leave again. But as he turned, one of Sanyasi’s associates hovered in the doorway, blocking their exit like a human boulder.

  Evie made eye contact with all the men in the booth and briefly examined what she could see of her dark surroundings. Her eyes fell then, first to the poker game, before exchanging glances with Sanyasi once more. “Fair enough. Sorry to bother you, Mr. Sanyasi.”

  The boss nodded at her in approval, signaling the human boulder to let them pass.

  All the way to the door, Evie expected to hear a gunshot and feel the burning sting of a bullet through her back. But no such thing happened, and they made it out onto the street, hurrying around the corner.

  “We got lucky there,” Nick said, panting and looking over his shoulder.

  Evie could only think of the threatening look in Sanyasi’s eyes. A dan
gerous man. “Yeah. We did.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Evie sent Nick back to work, telling him to type up anything and everything that they had on the latest victim. To her surprise, he acquiesced and left immediately to do her bidding. She sighed with relief as she stared at his retreating back. Evie had somewhere else to be.

  The cab stopped outside the police station. She bounded up the steps and gave the harried cop manning the reception desk her name for Captain Moore. Within minutes he strode out in the waiting area, giving her an exhausted smile.

  “This way, Miss Black.”

  Evie followed him into his office, where he gestured to a rickety wooden chair across from his gunmetal-gray desk.

  “What is it I can do for you?”

  Evie played with her thumbs and racked her brain for how to articulate the reason for her visit. “I have a slight confession to make,” she whispered. “I just hope you can forgive me.”

  “Oh? What have you done that would require forgiveness?”

  She did it quickly, before she lost her nerve. The business card came out of her pocket, and she dumped it on the desk, sliding it over to the police captain. “I took this from James Harley’s pocket. I was hoping it would lead me to… well, a lead.”

  Captain Moore picked up the card, studying it, his lips pressed into a thin line.

  Evie shifted in her seat. “Nick and I went to explore the restaurant and—”

  “You did what?” Moore jumped out of his seat, poking his head outside the office and then closing the door with a click. “Please tell me you didn’t speak to anyone.”

  “It… I…”

  “Oh, Miss Black.” He rubbed his face again—an expression that was becoming more of a signature move for him. “Did you speak to the owner of the restaurant?”

  “Sanyasi. Yes.”

  “And you’re still here.”

  “Yes… Captain, what’s going on?”

  Moore knelt down in front of her, the way a father does for his upset child. He looked into her eyes and spoke calmly, but there was no disguising his alarm. “I want you to think hard about this one, okay? Does he have any reason to believe that the NYPD are watching him? Did he mention us?”

  “No, I…” Evie shook her head, trying to recall. “I told him that we’re journalists. Look, do you want to fill me in here? I’m a little confused.”

  The captain rose to his feet again and sank into his vinyl desk chair. “Sanyasi is the leader of a gang, of sorts. He’s a dangerous criminal, and rumor has it that he has a lot of cops in his pocket. Bribes. While Internal Affairs investigates, we’ve been ordered to stay away. But that’s not to say that Sanyasi doesn’t suspect something.”

  It made sense now. Everything about that restaurant had felt like a scene out of Goodfellas, and Evie hadn’t been wrong. Even her sixth sense about danger had stayed true. Her gut never let her down.

  “We don’t go near the Sanyasi lot, Miss Black.” Moore cleared his throat. “And if I were you, I would keep your distance. They’re dangerous.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The killer turned up at a good time—just before midnight. The boss had told her to wait until after hours, and she would have done anything to avoid upsetting him again. She banged on the back door of Sanyasi’s Italian Restaurant and waited to be dragged in.

  “Let go of me, boys.” She pulled her arms out of the men’s firm grasps and pitched forward, walking fast enough so they’d have no reason to grab her again. When she got to the back office, she took a fortifying breath and then entered.

  Sanyasi sat in his chair, poring over paperwork. “Did you bring it?” he asked without looking up, refusing her a glance.

  Black Widow took two steps forward, digging around in her bra for the flash drive. She put it on the desk and, as she usually did, turned her back on him.

  “Wait.”

  His command stopped her in her tracks, one elegant hand on the doorknob.

  “Sit down.”

  Why?

  But she didn’t speak. She didn’t dare ask him because she knew what happened to people who questioned his authority. Questioned him. Usually it was some form of slow and agonizing torture. Sometimes, if one got lucky, he allowed them a quick death.

  So she sat.

  “We had some journalists here today.”

  “Journalists?”

  “Did I stutter?” Sanyasi finally dropped his papers and gawked at her. “You were instructed not to leave anything that would link my restaurant to your activities. So, tell me, how did two amateurs find out where you were last night?”

  Black Widow paused, desperately rooting through her brain for an answer. One he would accept. “I… I don’t know. Maybe somebody was keeping tabs on Harley. Or… Or maybe he had someone looking out for him. If I can just—”

  Sanyasi brought his fist down on the table with a thud. A stack of pens jumped out of their metal container and rolled across the desk. She started and clamped her eyes shut.

  “You had one job, Teresa.”

  He’s never called me by my first name before.

  “I brought you the stick,” she pleaded, knowing it wouldn’t matter. She could argue until she was blue in the face, but she’d made him angry. And she’d pay.

  Sanyasi took a moment to think, his eyes locked with hers. “Yes, you did. And that is the only reason you’re going to live. For now, anyway. Because I still need you.” He waved his hand, dismissing her. “Now go and wait for further instruction. If you fail me again, I’ll have your head on my desk.”

  Teresa believed him. She nodded, thanked him, and got out of there as quickly as possible. Second chances seldom came around in this line of work, and she would never forget how lucky she had been to get out of there alive.

  Chapter Fourteen

  All it took was a quick Google search and Evie had the name of the neighborhood where James Harley had been raised. Social media did the rest, taking her precisely to the doorstep of the victim’s brother.

  David Harley stomped down his drive but stopped short when she approached him. His hands held a small suitcase and a pink backpack. They must have been for the girl who sat quietly in the back of the Lexus—a daughter, perhaps.

  “Going somewhere?”

  David screwed up his face and looked her up and down, confusion lighting his eyes. “Do I know you?”

  “No. Sorry.” Evie came closer and introduced herself. They shook hands, and Evie took an instant liking to him. There was something about him that offered a subtle kindness. His eyes were still raw from tears for his dead brother, but he didn’t verbalize his pain.

  “I hope we can keep this quick, Miss Black. I have to take my little girl to her grandmother’s before I make arrangements for my brother’s funeral.”

  “Absolutely. I won’t take much of your time.” Evie lifted the cell phone from her purse, setting it to record before she even asked his permission. She was hungry for knowledge. “Do you know anyone who might have had a problem with your brother?”

  David shook his head, biting his lip.

  “An ex, maybe, or someone trying to get even?”

  “I don’t know. I guess he owed a bit of money. Had trouble paying it back.”

  Evie found herself leaning in closer, raising the cell phone higher toward his face. “Money? What are we talking here? Fifty? A hundred?”

  “More like twenty grand.”

  Twenty grand! Evie could barely believe it. If anything was going to piss someone off, it would be borrowing a sum like that without delivering repayments. “Do you know who holds the debt?”

  David Harley’s daughter whined from the back seat, squirming and pouting. “Just a minute, sweetheart,” he told her, setting down the bags and closing the car door. “Ever heard of Victor Sanyasi?”

  Evie nodded, her heart thudding so hard her ribs rattled.

  “Well, that’s who he borrowed the cash from. You can understand why I’m in a hurry to get my daught
er somewhere safe. Sanyasi doesn’t do half measures. If I’m lucky, he’ll stop after he gets me and leave my daughter out of it. My brother’s debt will get paid. One way or the other.”

  “Mr. Harley…” Evie took a moment to shut off the recorder. She stuffed the phone back into her bag as a demonstration of privacy. “I think that the person who killed your brother is responsible for a string of murders. If there’s anything you can say that might help, I could be on the verge of uncovering a huge criminal enterprise.”

  David froze for a moment, staring at the ground. Tense moments of silence passed, but then he shook his head, said goodbye, and climbed into the car. It started up with a delicious purr.

  But Evie couldn’t leave it there. She rapped upon the glass before he could throw the vehicle in reverse. “Please, Mr. Harley. You could save lives. Just… please.”

  Evie held her breath, and after about ten seconds, David’s driver’s-side window came whirring down. “My brother had a safety deposit box over at Rego Park. If you can get the key somehow, you might find something useful in there.”

  Evie opened her mouth to say thanks, but by then he was nothing more than a blip of metal growing smaller as it vanished into the distance. She thought then that anyone who could scare a person like that might be worth staying away from.

  Not that it would stop her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was as simple a plan as any, and yet, remarkably stupid. It would involve a great deal of courage on her part, but what was Evie Black if not insanely brave? Maybe to her own detriment.

  Dropping by the office to pick up a few things, including a can of pepper spray, she stepped off the elevator just in time to see Nick emerge from her office. He has no business being in there, she thought, marching his way, hackles raised.

  “Nick.”

  He spun to face her, expression dripping with feigned innocence just like a schoolboy caught stealing.