by Matt Doyle
“Wow,” she replies, sounding genuinely impressed. “Beats me for action, hands down. I’m a DJ, so the worst I get is the odd drunk trying a little too hard to get my number, you know? I’ve seen your name on the news sites a few times, though, so you must be good, right? How come you went freelance rather than joining the police?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Charlie groans, frozen in the doorway with a tray of drinks and a plate of biscuits in her hand.
“What?” Jody asks, and I start to laugh. I shouldn’t laugh. The subject is a sore one, and it hurts like hell to think about it, but this whole situation is so beyond comical at this point that I can’t help it.
I give Jody the short version: I tried it and found myself in opposition to certain things, so Dad, a cop himself, helped me set up as a PI. He died protecting me when I dug too deeply into a case. By the time I’ve finished, I don’t know what’s worse; the genuine upset I’m keeping in, or the utter disbelief on Charlie and Jody’s faces as I struggle to contain the laughter. “I…I’m sorry. It’s just…of all the questions you could have asked.”
“If I’d known you were coming, I’d have said something,” Charlie says, her voice restrained but not quite hiding the flustered edge to it.
Jody, I notice, looks absolutely mortified. I compose myself, turn to her, and say, “Honestly, there’s nothing to worry about. It’s good to let it out sometimes. And like I said, there’s no reason you would have known to avoid the subject.”
“Okay,” she says, relaxing a little, but still clearly annoyed with herself.
“So, what brings you here today?” Charlie asks.
I take a sip of my coffee. “Nothing too social, I’m afraid. You’ve seen the upturn in muggings?”
“Yeah, there’s a lot of them going on at the moment. What about it?”
“I was one of the victims.” Charlie starts to say something, but I put my hand up to stop her. “I’m fine, the attacker didn’t actually get anything, but the police think that a couple of the cases may be linked. I’m kinda…helping piece it all together.”
“Linked, huh?” Charlie replies, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Certain victims may have been stalked and picked up after a degree of planning,” I clarify. “It’s nothing more than that.”
“And you’re looking for evidence of the planning so that, what?”
“So they can set me up as bait to lure a second attack,” I state plainly.
“Bait?” Charlie repeats. “Jeez, Caz, how’d you end up getting roped into that?”
“The same way you got to be warier around police involvement.”
“Fucking Castleford,” Charlie says, through gritted teeth.
“The accountant guy?” Jody asks.
“Yeah,” I reply. “I got mixed up in that whole mess and…well…certain people don’t care too much for me. Since they hold sway with the PD, it was this or prison time.”
“Ugh,” Charlie says, placing her mug onto the nearby coffee table in a far from delicate manner. “I swear, whatever Castleford found has been nothing but trouble for all of us. I take it you still can’t tell me any more than you already have?”
I shake my head. “No. Not on that.”
“That’s stopping me from digging more myself. If it’s spooked you, she with the shovel who just can’t stop, then it’s not worth the hassle. Okay, what do you need?”
I glance awkwardly at Jody and ask, “Is she…?”
“Don’t worry,” Jody says, getting to her feet. “I’m not sure I want to know what’s going on here. New Hopeland’s almost too scary for me to keep visiting as it is.”
“Better get used to it,” Charlie says with a smile. “I already told you I’m not moving.”
Jody laughs and kisses Charlie’s forehead. “I’ll get the dinner on. Give me a shout when it’s safe to come out.”
I wait for her to leave the room, then turn to Charlie. “That serious, eh?”
“Yeah,” she replies and holds up her hand to show a simple band on her ring finger. “Just got this last week. She asked if you’re interested.”
“Oh, wow,” I say and try to shake off the surprise. “Well, congratulations.”
“You’re not upset at all?”
“No,” I say, a genuine smile reaching my lips. “I’m happy for you. Honestly.”
Charlie lets out a relieved sigh and shakes her head. She flashes me a cheeky smile and says, “I was actually kinda worried about telling you. Up until recently, you kinda still seemed like…well…”
“I had feelings for you?” I finish, and she nods. “I kinda did, but not like you’re thinking. Even if part of me knew the end was coming for us, it still hit me hard. And yeah, that was why I didn’t let anyone in for a while. There were things with you I just didn’t let go of, and that’s entirely because I didn’t want to feel so damn alone all the time. If I still held on to some things, it meant things would be easier. Or I thought it would. It actually…screwed me up a little, I think.”
“And now?”
“I still care about you, a lot, but not in the same way.”
Charlie laughs quietly to herself, and asks, “Lori finally broke you, huh?”
“Some of my stubbornness at least,” I reply, returning the laugh. “Look, if this is half as awkward for you as it is for me then…shall we get on with this?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Pauline Mensche was another of the victims. She was attacked shortly after purchasing Delta-S. I need to know who she bought from and whether they’d be willing to answer some questions for me.”
“Pauline Mensche…she’s Brett Stantz’s thief,” Charlie muses. “Delta-S is only ever distributed to two Dealers at once, one Elite and one other. I was the Elite this month, but I only made one sale of the stuff. It’s pretty potent, so we only ever make bigger sales to people taking it outside for further dispersion. My sale was like that. You’ve met the other seller, though. L3G3ND.”
“The guy with the gold chains and the crappy beard?”
“That’s the one,” Charlie laughs. “And he says it’s a cool beard. Hang on a minute.” She pulls her cell phone out and dials a number. I hear someone answer on the other end of the line and start yammering away. Eventually, Charlie rubs her eyes, and cuts him off with an abrupt, “L, will you shut up and listen for a minute.” She waits to make sure he’s silent, then continues, “Did you sell some Delta-S to Pauline Mensche recently…? Okay, good. You remember Cassie Tam, right? I’ve got her here right now, and she needed to ask some questions about the deal…no, nothing like that…no, Pauline had some trouble afterwards, and she’s…no, not with the DS, something else. Look, I’m putting you on speakerphone. Be nice, and tell her what she wants, yeah?”
Charlie places her phone on the table and taps the speaker icon, and L3G3ND’s voice immediately cuts in with, “Can’t be serious, c’mon, Chazza.”
“Hi, Legend,” I say.
“Aww, damn it,” he snaps abruptly. “Hello, Cassie. It’s L-3-G-3ND, remember?”
“Bit of a mouthful, don’t’cha think?”
“Yeah, well, that’s what she said. Whadda ya want?”
“I think I preferred you when you were being more cooperative. It’s like Chazza said,” I reply, responding to Charlie’s wince at her nickname with a knowing grin. “I have a few questions about the Pauline Mensche deal. Nothing incriminating. It’s more about Pauline herself.”
The Dealers’ only jumble of numbers and inappropriate capitalisation goes silent for a moment, seemingly thinking it over, then says, “Okay, yeah. I can work with that. But I ain’t gonna answer anything that could land me in it.
“No problem. When Pauline came to you, had she arranged the deal in advance?”
“She’d checked I had stock, but that was the same day. Next question.”
“Welcome to the lightning round,” I grumble to myself. “Okay, when she came by, did she seem paranoid at all?”
/> “Paranoid in what way?”
“Glancing over her shoulder a lot, staring out the window, that sort of thing. Or did she maybe mention someone following her?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Lots of checking out the window. That ain’t unusual, though. You know what Delta-S is, right? It’s a hallucinogen. For most people, it’s a pretty nice trip, but the comedown’s weird. First day or so is nothing more than a hangover, if you get anything at all. The paranoia kicks in after that. Unless they’ve got foresight, most people don’t buy more until they hit the worst part of the comedown. That’s the beauty of it, right? That paranoia makes them crave more so they can relax.”
“Okay, but did she mention someone following her? Or watching her?”
“A couple of times, yeah, but like I said, it’s normal for D-S users. Next question.”
I roll my eyes and ask, “Has she bought from you before?”
L3G3ND harrumphs to himself then answers, “A couple of times, yeah.”
“And is she normally someone who buys when the aftereffects have already kicked in?”
“No. But you gotta understand, she’s not a long-time user. Just ’cause she got it right at the start don’t mean she can’t screw up. All this means is the powder’s got its claws into her properly now. Next question.”
“Nah, you’ve given me enough,” I say, then reach out and hang up before he can say anything else to annoy me. I smile at Charlie and start, “Thanks, Chaz—”
“Don’t you dare,” she interjects, cutting me off before I can use her new nickname.
My phone beeps in my pocket, and I pull it out. I take one look at the screen, and say, “I gotta go.”
“Already?”
“Yeah, give me a moment.” I quick dial Donal and as soon as he answers, I say, “Bert just let me know there’s an emergency at the apartment. You better get over there.”
“We’re one block away from you, on Taunston. Want us to wait for you?”
“Yeah, that’d be good.” I hang up and start to make a move for the door. “Sorry to cut this short, but it sounds like the repeat attack is starting.”
“No, no. You better get going or Bert won’t leave enough of them to question. You need a ride?”
“Thanks, but no. I’ve got a shadow from the PD out on Taunston Street, just in case I got attacked here. They’ll get me there. Oh, and sorry about that. I told them to hold back rather than come across like they were checking up on you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Charlie opens the door for me, and adds, “Stay safe.”
“Will do. And congratulations again. We’ll have to set up a double date sometime.”
“Sure, sounds fun.”
I give a quick wave and take off towards Taunston. When I get there, Donal swings the back door of the van open and says, “Cab for Miss Tam?”
“Sounds good to me,” I reply and jump in.
The van takes off down the street, and I start to check over both the Glock and the HK45. Glancing up, I can see Donal flex-testing his claws and snout. He’s been suited up for a long time. He must be glad to finally see some action.
By the time we reach my floor on the apartment block, there are already a couple of people standing around and staring at my door, listening to the angry “Caw, caw,” of the Familiar inside. Given the noise, it’s safe to say we don’t have the element of surprise, so I brace myself and charge shoulder first at the door, forcing it open. I immediately draw the HK45 and step to the side, making room for Donal to enter behind me while I try to take in what I’m seeing.
The kitchen sink is running on full power, the water pouring out with force from the remnants of the nozzle. The rest of it? Trapped between the beak of the little metal gargoyle that seems intent on telling it off for making a mess.
I walk calmly through the mass of water soaking my floor and turn the faucet off, noting not only the slight indentations caused by metal claws, but the plug that has slid into place. Once the water stops, Bert drops the chunk of metal from his mouth, and gives a triumphant, “Caw.”
“Sorry, excuse me,” comes a voice from the doorway, and an elderly man pushes past Donal without batting an eyelid. “Ah, you’ve sorted it then.”
“Sorted what?” I ask, recognising our block’s handyman, Mr. Thorne.
“Power surge caused some of the electronic appliances to go haywire. I’ve been working up each floor to stop anything going off where the residents were out. You’re back now, though, and you’ve stopped…ah, the faucet. Yes, two others on the third floor had the same issue. Plug slid in automatically and the water started running. I see ol’ Bert had a crack at fixing it too, didn’t he?”
I smile and stare at the damage. “Yeah. Yeah, he did.”
“Well, I’ll be off then,” says Mr. Thorne, stopping only to look Donal up and down and comment, “You’re a big fella, aren’t you?”
“This sorta thing happen often?” Donal asks.
“Sometimes,” I say and give Bert a pat. “Good try, Bert.”
Bert’s initial attempts may have stemmed the flow long enough to prevent too much water escaping the confines of the sink. Ripping the nozzle off probably didn’t help in the way he intended, but it did at least crush the remaining pipe enough to keep the spray slower than it would have been otherwise. In all, he really did more good than harm in this instance. I pull a drawer open and rummage through some random-and-far-too-small-for-my-liking tools that came with various appliances I’ve owned. The little metal rod that works as a reset tool for the sink eventually comes to hand, and I slip it into the gap at the back of the faucet set, causing the plug hole to open with a clunk. The water is draining fine, so that’s a good sign.
“I’ll see if I can find something to mop this up with,” I say, and head off to my bedroom. It’s a strange place to go, but I think I left a towel in there that would make a good starting point. I spot the blue fabric of one of the older towels slumped under the window. “No use hiding,” I tell it, and out of habit, glance out through the venetian blinds. I freeze.
“Got you…”
Slowly, I back away from the window, dropping the towel on my bed as I make my way into the main room. “Bert, stay here, unless I signal you. Donal, we need to get moving. He’s here.”
Understanding what I mean instantly, Donal nods and walks out of my apartment. I pull the door shut on my way through.
I EXPLAIN THE plan to Donal on the way down in the elevator. It all hinges on the LV having stayed around the back of the building and so not seeing Donal with me, but given Bert’s previous sentry position, that seems like a good bet.
Once we hit the ground floor, I make my way out of the building alone, turning right to head around the back where I saw my stalker. I struggle to contain a smile when I notice him waiting for me, still only half hidden in the shadows of an alley. Once he’s sure he’s got my attention, he turns and walks slowly into the dark. Like the idiot he clearly thinks I am, I follow.
Unlike the last time we met, this alley is short, and the street lights at the other end provide enough illumination to allow me to see where I’m going. It also lets me see the door swinging open towards the back of the alley, on the opposite side of the apartment block I thought Bert had been watching earlier. What is this place, again? A storage area, I think, for one of the local convenience stores. Coming up to the door, I catch a glimpse of the damaged wires and scraps of metal inside the frame, showing where my attacker has had to break in. Someone’s been busy setting this up, I note, spotting the equally damaged security camera above me.
Inside, I realise I’m right. The building is spacious enough, but the crates and boxes that have been pushed out towards the wall all bear the markings of various popular suppliers. To my right is a light switch, but of course, my casual flicking of it does nothing. I expected that, though. I sigh, and shake my head, then walk further into the room.
“Okay, I know you’re in here, and you know that I know it. Let’s
get this over with.”
I hear a shuffling to the side. Taking the bait, I walk into the middle of the room and turn to face the source of the sound. Someone steps out of the shadows. At first, he is nothing more than a shadow. As my eyes begin to adjust, I start to make out details. The shiny, visored mask looks like the sort of thing you’d see in a video game, the kind worn in sci-fi shooters. It’s covered in smooth, blackened glass that covers and hides the whole face. The side of the helmet has two stylised chunks of metal resembling ears. Or maybe antenna.
Could that be what’s picking up the signals from the trackers? My hand goes to the lump in my neck. I barely have time to recognise the long, claw-like fingers, or the dark robe he’s wearing, before the fangs at the bottom of the mask light up and start flashing. Once again, fear overwhelms me, and my legs start to shake.
“No,” I growl, trying desperately to stay upright. I unholster the HK45, but my arm is shaking too much for it to get a clear aim on the advancing… Vampire. He is a vampire. I drop the gun to the floor and grab for the Glock instead. I swing it out in front of me and squeeze the trigger, hoping that instinct has been kind. The bullet makes a loud thud as it hits a crate, several feet behind my attacker.
I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye and allow myself a slight smile as I drop to the floor, the gun sliding from my fingers. The vampire draws closer and lowers himself to one knee in front of me. I groan, and spit the slurred words, “Got you, you son of a bitch.”
A loud crash of metal cuts through the put-put-put of the flashing fangs, as Donal O’Brien barrels into my would-be attacker. They tumble to the floor and, with the light away from my face, I try to clear the cobwebs, listening intently to the sounds around me. My vision fades in and out a little, but I catch glimpses of the ensuing battle.
Donal grabs the vamp and slams him against a crate.
The vamp slams a chunk of wood between the jaws of Donal’s snapping muzzle, and barges him back, tearing his own cloak off in the process.