City By Night: Resurgence: A Sam Stevens Mystery

by J. D. Dunsford

  Chapter Three

  With Spencer dead and his cover blown, there was only one option left to him, and it was not one he liked. But if he wanted to stay alive long enough to be able to put an end to this, then it was one he had to take.

  In the depths of the city was a tiny alley, so narrow and dark most would never give it a second glance. Even walking down it you barely saw anything distinct about it, anything to make you remember it. That, of course, was entirely intentional.

  In the side of the alley was a plain, dark red door without a handle. It took exactly three knocks for that door to automatically open. There were no guards here because none were needed. The door opened on to a concrete staircase.

  Standing at the top of it, Sam listened. He could hear the faint sounds of pounding music. The moment he walked in here, he could kiss goodbye to any chances of remaining in the shadows. But he would stay alive, and that at least was something. And, if he was lucky, it might just offer him the advantage he needed.

  Sam did not like to gamble. He preferred situations where the outcome was almost certain, and for the most part, he tried to only proceed when he was reasonably confident about how something might play out. But at this moment, he had absolutely no idea. He had spent an hour in his car, in the shadows of an underground carpark, tossing up whether this was a dice worth rolling, but finally, he had decided that he did not have a choice. If this didn’t work and he was killed, it only meant it would happen slightly sooner than if he kept running.

  He wasn’t stupid enough to believe he could escape. Not if they were able to uncover the truth about his friendship with Spencer. Not if they could just keep throwing men at him until one of them was finally fast enough to take him out. He had to approach this situation head on, and in the process perhaps make a deal with the devil.

  But, he knew for a fact, some devils were better than others.

  He did not touch his gun as he walked down the staircase, deeper and deeper into red light and the pounding music slowly growing louder. Here, there was less than no point. He kept going until he reached the landing where the staircase opened out into something that would be unexpected if you didn’t know it was here.

  He was looking out onto an enormous dance floor. Everything was lit blood red, and the music pounded from the distant platform on which stood a DJ. Writhing bodies were everywhere, moving in time to the music, lost in it, having the time of their lives. There were so many that he could not see the far end of the dance floor. Perhaps he would get by unnoticed after all. He pushed forward into the throng.

  He had always hated clubs, and this was a stark reminder of why that was. Everyone ignored him as they moved wildly with the deafening music, shoving each other, jostling him and leaving him drenched in the sweat of other people that soon mingled with his own as he got deeper and deeper into the oppressive heat of the dance floor. Still, he pushed forward, ignoring everyone as much as they ignored him, wading as if through a sea of mud. He was halfway now, and the other side still seemed distant and almost impossible to reach.

  Then-

  ‘Sam Stevens.’

  He stopped. Instinctively his hand twitched for his gun before he stopped himself and turned.

  A small clearing had been made in the mass of people, revealing who had said his name. As Sam met the eyes of the other man, the music seemed to recede. Nothing mattered, not the dancers nor the club nor the suited gang of armed guards the man had with him.

  ‘Jack Kent,’ Sam said.

  The other man smiled. He was lean, although some would say gaunt, with slicked back hair and cold, dead eyes. His suit was well tailored, although it would look well-tailored on a skeleton as much as it did this man.

  ‘This is a surprise,’ Kent said. ‘I was just talking about you.’

  ‘Word gets around.’

  ‘Not a word you’d like to get around.’

  ‘That depends on the word,’ Sam said. ‘Is it that you’ve been throwing men at me and I’ve been dropping them all like flies?’

  Kent raised an eyebrow. ‘Was that a boast, Stevens? That’s hardly going to endear anyone to you.’

  Sam shrugged. ‘Less of a boast, more a fact.’

  ‘I don’t know. Arrogance seems to be a problem for you. Why else would you waltz in here like this? You don’t have many friends Sam.’

  ‘Why would visiting a club bespeak arrogance?’ Sam said. ‘And besides, I do have friends. I’m on my way to visit one now.’

  ‘Ah,’ Kent smirked. ‘The same friend I just saw. You might not find the welcome you seek.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ Sam said. ‘But at least I know I’ll leave alive. There are some rules people still follow Kent.’

  ‘Talking to me like that is tantamount to signing your own death warrant,’ Kent snarled. ‘or would be if it wasn’t already signed.’

  Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw that a few of the dancers had stopped and turned very slowly to pay attention to the standoff. Some hands had reached inside jackets, others towards hips or the backs of their jeans.

  ‘Threatening doesn’t mean much when you can’t follow through,’ Sam said. ‘If you’re going to try and intimidate me you might as well do something that proves you worthy of my intimidation.’

  Kent took a step forward, and suddenly the circle of dancers around them were no longer dancers. Guns and knives had been drawn, all pointed at Kent and his men, several of whom had reached for their own weapons.

  Sam didn’t move, just smiled as Kent, face expressionless, stepped back. His men raised their hands. Slowly the guns and knives disappeared, and the dancers were just dancers again.

  ‘You can hide behind Lucinda’s skirts for now,’ Kent said. ‘but sooner or later you’ll have to emerge. And when you do, I’ll be waiting.’ With that, he vanished into the crowd, his lackeys close behind him.

  He knew he wasn’t in danger, but he still moved faster as he continued his trip to the other side of the club. He arrived at a large set of double doors guarded by two hulking bouncers who let him through into a large, marble hall. Off to the sides, men and women lounged on couches and chairs, some entwined in passionate embraces, others talking quietly, others just watching. Sam ignored them all as he walked up the relatively quiet hall to a set of stairs at the end. Music was growing louder again, but it was nothing like back in the club. It was gentle, lilting jazz. Sam reached the stairs, which were lavishly carpeted and lit by cool blue overhead lights and walked up until he reached a new level.

  Here everything was colourful enough to be considered flamboyant. Several bubbling spas dotted the landing; off to the side a jazz band played on a raised platform, adjacent to a large chair that was clearly supposed to evoke a throne. Large paintings dotted the already bright walls. Sam came to a halt at the top of the stairs and cast his eye over the various people relaxing in the spas with their champagne. About ten in total. The very elite.

  ‘Sam Stevens,’ a low purr came from behind the throne.

  He looked over to the woman who rounded it. Tall and willowy with dark skin and wide, perpetually amused eyes, her hair hung in long dreadlocks over her baggy, colourful clothes. She would have seemed strange even in the sixties, but you failed to take her seriously at your peril.

  Sam lowered his head slightly. ‘Lucinda,’ he said. ‘It’s been a while.’

  Taking her time, moving like a cat in its element, Lucinda slid into her throne, eyes never leaving Sam. ‘Years,’ she said. ‘And now you arrive at my club mere minutes after Jack Kent thinks to darken my doorstep. Could this be to do with the knives that are currently being sharpened, knives engraved with your name?’

  ‘It could,’ Sam said. ‘It could be to do with any number of things. Or it could just be a matter of visiting an old friend.’

  Lucinda smirked. ‘Clever, Sam. I forgot how clever you are’ In an instant, she was standing. ‘Shall we retire to my study? I recently was gifted a very expensive, very old scotch and a reunion of old fr
iends seems just the time to drink it. That said,’ she grinned. ‘Considering the friend I’m about to use it on it may not quite be what the giver had in mind, but what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.’

  Sam smiled at that, then moving around the spas still full of people who had barely paid any attention to the exchange, Sam followed Lucinda past her throne to a door hidden in shadows at the back of the space. She opened it, and together they moved through into an old fashioned, wood panelled study that seemed somewhat at odds with everything that had come before it. The walls were lined with books and portraits, and a large oak desk had pride of place in the centre of the plush maroon carpeted floor. Lucinda took a seat behind the desk and gestured for Sam to join her. The bottle was already on the table, unopened, with two glasses at the ready.

  ‘You were expecting me?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Sooner or later,’ Lucinda said. ‘I took a gamble and assumed sooner.’ She poured them both a glass. ‘You are taking a gamble as well I think.’

  ‘What did Kent tell you?’ Sam asked as he sat.

  ‘That if I turned the Realm against you it would be worth my while,’ she said. ‘He’s an idiot. The Realm is a club, and I’m not in the business of turning people away unless they cause trouble on my property.’

  Sam suppressed an urge to smile. The Realm was a lot more than a club, and everyone knew it. Hidden below the city, it sprawled further than anyone could guess. The dance floor was only one part of a complex nobody except Lucinda had ever seen every part of. The name was fitting; it was a kingdom and Lucinda was its queen, home to meeting rooms and bars, sections for fun and sections for deals. The only rule was that nobody hurt anybody else. Try that in here, and the rule lifted just long enough for everyone else to make sure you didn’t survive to try breaking it again. After a fashion, the Realm was the safest place there was because Lucinda could not be bought and she had the voluntary protection of everyone who knew the rules here.

  ‘Kent must be desperate if he’s asking for a partnership,’ Sam said.

  ‘My thoughts exactly,’ Lucinda slid him his scotch and raised her own in a toast that Sam met before drinking. It really was very smooth. ‘Desperate, or in need of a sharp reminder of how things run here.’

  Sam tried not to let his interest show. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that the balance of power is a delicate one, and sometimes the scales tip in unfortunate ways,’ she said. ‘History shows that when one group attains too much power, bad things happen. That group begin to think they can do whatever they want. They get arrogant, and they get dangerous. Sooner or later, of course, they make a mistake, and things shift back to the way they should be, but how many people die in the meantime?’ She shook her head. ‘It’s a natural cycle, but if the copious bloodshed of the cycle can be avoided, then that’s in everyone’s best interests.’

  There were dice rolls within dice rolls. Sam decided to abandon tact. ‘What are you trying to say Lucinda?’

  She looked him in the eye and no longer appeared amused. ‘I’m trying to say that Robert and his syndicate have gotten too big and too dangerous. I have watched the balance of power on the streets for years, but this is different. A man who has tendrils in the police force, a man who controls all the drugs that come through this city, a man who has the audacity to send his skin-crawling lackey in to ask me for a partnership. I have remained neutral for years, maintaining the balance by ensuring at all times that the Realm stays a haven above the petty squabbles of the street. Now Jack Kent comes in asking me to turn on you in exchange for money, and I hear that he forgets himself long enough to threaten you on my dance floor. That might read like stupidity, but what it is, is overconfidence and in my experience overconfidence originates from somewhere. If the syndicate has grown big enough to challenge the Realm, then we have a problem on our hands.’ She leaned forward. ‘If we have a problem on our hands, then it is in my interest as a businesswoman to do something about it.’

  ‘And what are you going to do about it?’ Sam asked.

  Lucinda’s smile was cold. ‘Remove the problem.’

  ‘Much as I want to hear that,’ Sam said, ‘I have to point out the risk. The Realm has never invited an attack, partly out of fear and partly out of respect. Part of that respect comes from the fact that you are neutral. If you send an army–’

  ‘But I’m not sending an army,’ Lucinda said. ‘I’m sending you.’

  Brief hope flickered and died. ‘Me?’ Sam said.

  ‘An army draws attention,’ she said. ‘One man doesn’t.’

  ‘No,’ Sam said. ‘One man just draws bullets. And in this case, too many for me to dodge. Lucinda, I have survived by the skin of my teeth so far; how the hell am I supposed to maintain that, going in as your attack force?’

  ‘Oh I’m sorry,’ Lucinda said coolly. ‘Am I not talking to the Sam Stevens who took out Hector O’Neill and his armed guards, who has halted everything the syndicate threw at him over the last few days, the Sam Stevens who was their top enforcer–’

  ‘Enough.’

  ‘The Sam Stevens who terrified all enemies of the syndicate, who none thought they could manage without–’

  ‘Enough!’

  ‘The Sam Stevens who–’

  ‘ENOUGH!’

  It took Sam a moment to realise he was on his feet. Lucinda, calm and unruffled, just peered up at him. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘You have some fire left. Now sit down and stop being such an idiot. Perhaps let me finish what I have to say before you write me off as deluded.’

  Breathing heavily, Sam sat.

  ‘Now,’ Lucinda said, ‘obviously I will not be sending you in blind. You know how I have managed to survive this long? Because I know everything there is to know about every move being made in the underworld. I know where Jack Kent and Robert will be two nights from now. I know what boat is bringing their shipment in and I know how they plan to smuggle it. I know how many men will be on site and I know what weapons they’ll be carrying. I also know every one of the thirty-four entrances to the Realm, most of which Jack Kent will be entirely unaware of, even as he sends men to stand watch over the ones he does know about, ready to capture you upon emerging. Basically Sam, when you know what I know you only need one man to do this job. If you refuse, well, fine, end of. You can linger out on that dance floor until you get too tired then take your chances with Kent’s men. I’ll find somebody and send them in to handle what has to be handled. Or, you can stay here under my protection for two days, put up in luxury rooms, fed and provided with all the drink and entertainment you could want, then when the time comes I will direct you to a way out that will bring you close to where you need to be and you can do the job you are itching to do.’

  Silence hung over the room. Sam tried to think.

  ‘Two nights from now,’ Lucinda said. ‘That’s when their shipment arrives. The biggest shipment of drugs in recent memory. If you want to head out and survive until then, be my guest. After that, you’re free and clear. Do what you want with your life. Or,’ that amused twinkle had returned to her eyes, ‘you can be the one to put an end to this. You can be the one to look into Robert’s eyes as the life goes out of them.’

  Sam held her gaze. Thoughts raced through his head, warnings, and considerations. But in the end, he had known what his answer would be from the start. What it had been for years now.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ he said.

  Chapter Four

  It had, he supposed, only been days since he found the dead girl at the construction site. Days since his simple life had been turned on its head, sending him careening back into the world he had sworn he was done with for good. But as he settled in the accommodations Lucinda provided, it struck him how long it had been since he could relax.

  Well, perhaps relax was a strong word. He still had an appointment with a potential violent death looming closer by the second, but even that did little to dampen the strange calm that came over him the next couple of days.
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  Perhaps it was the surroundings. Lucinda had provided him with the kind of spacious room that would put most five star hotels to shame. The king size bed sat on a raised platform towards the rear, facing a screen that was almost the size of one you’d see at a cinema. The bathroom was huge and luxurious, with more types of soaps available than Sam had ever seen before. Outside the room, a long hall led to an indoor swimming pool, a smoking lounge, a library and more doors that he wasn’t sure he’d ever get around to exploring.

  He’d always known, at least vaguely, that the club and bars were only part of Lucinda’s establishment, but now he couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer expansive size of what she owned here. The Realm had never seemed like a more appropriate term for it. Plus, this particular wing of the place was very separate from the rest, only accessible through two side doors that required a special card to get through. Furthermore, it wasn’t like he was even being put up in Lucinda’s private quarters; she was nowhere to be seen.

  After a long, thankfully dreamless sleep he awoke to a phone call that lunch was ready in a dining room he hadn’t known existed. Lucinda had provided him with a veritable feast; he couldn’t even finish most of what was presented in front of him, despite it being better than anything he had tasted in years. A butler was there to clear everything away, his only words, that Sam should be ready for dinner at seven. Until then his time was his own, and he spent it in the library, burying himself in books. After an even bigger dinner, he retired to his room and fell asleep halfway through one of the movies in the extensive film library provided.

  The next day played out roughly the same, however, with an earlier start, Sam had more time to just enjoy his surroundings. He spent the morning swimming laps in the pool, losing himself in the perfect temperature of the water and letting his tense, aching muscles relax. It wasn’t until he emerged that he realised he had been swimming for almost two hours.