The Art of Madness

by A. J. Mayall

  “Nothing we can’t mitigate, Mr. Gemini. If you want improvements, Phoenix McGee is your man.”

  “What do you mean, ‘daughter’?” Phoenix stared dumbfounded at O’Halloran, then at Donatello.

  Bellacino snapped, “Bullshit! You kidnapped one of my girls: Emma!”

  Phoenix held up both hands, yelling for them to stop and calm down. “Listen, before we go any further here, I need to know one thing. Which of you fucks kidnapped the Bentons?”

  Douglas balled a thick meaty fist.

  Phoenix stood and pointed at him. “Don’t you fucking dare. Where I’m standing, I’m seeing two people and one of them is guilty of kidnapping two of my clients. If the two of you want to end this, cut the bullshit. This GoodFellas asshattery doesn’t fly anymore.”

  Douglas stood and snarled at McGee and Bellacino. “Return my daughter to me, Don, or I’ll send any of your people I catch in my turf to you in twenty different take away boxes.”

  Donatello leaned back. “I don’t have her, Douglas. I don’t even know what she looks like. You have her locked in your mansion to keep her safe, remember? You didn’t even let Mr. Quick see her when he asked!”

  Phoenix slammed his hands on the table. “Both of you!” He looked to Donatello. “If you have his daughter, release her.” He turned to hiss at Douglas. “If you have his girl, release her.” He looked between the two of them, sweat on his brow from anger and frustration. “Whoever kidnapped the Bentons, release them. You have 24 hours before I start getting more closely involved in both your damn families.”

  Silence descended on the room, the two Mafiosi staring at the detective and then to each other.

  It was Donatello who broke the silence: “Who the fuck are the Bentons?”

  Phoenix looked at Donatello intently, the detective taking in every small detail of the man’s face. He took a step back, shaking his head a bit, and then looking at O’Halloran who looked equally perplexed at the accusation.

  “Donatello, when I came to Harley’s we talked about how I was looking for people and you got defensive pretty damn quickly.”

  Bellacino glared at Douglas, then to Phoenix. “Because this man kidnapped someone important to my operations, and told me that if I went to the police, things wouldn’t go too well.”

  Douglas screamed back. “You filthy liar! That’s what you did with my Caroline! Told me if I went to the cops, you go and kill my men!”

  “I killed your damn men because this one,” Bellacino snarled, thumbing at Phoenix, “went to the fucking cops and got them involved in looking for Emma!”

  Phoenix pulled at his hair, trying to keep his temper down. The lights flickered as the hints of the white blue energy pulled at the edges of his body.

  “I came to you to find out what happened to Margaret and Jeremy Benton. They used to work for you at Prescott Electronics. They vanished and no one is saying a word. Their house was sold by Palatine within minutes of going on the market, and the current owners were told to move in immediately. Right now, I’m trusting Mr. O’Halloran a lot more than I am you.”

  Douglas sneered and looked at McGee. “I’m starting to like this new Mr. Quick more and more.”

  Phoenix turned to look at O’Halloran. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, my job is to make sure you two don’t go to war. Sit!”

  Douglas adjusted his tie and reclaimed his seat, looking across the table at Donatello.

  “Mr. Quick came to you looking for some people. He’s gotten the police involved, the same police sitting outside those doors right now. You decided the best way to handle this is to take some of my men off the street and split them stomach to sternum and dump them on my properties. The issues with my daughter aside,” he said, anger dripping from each syllable, “he’s brought retaliation on himself.”

  Douglas stood and strode to the door, Phoenix reached for the man’s wrist and O’Halloran smacked the younger man’s arm away. “You do not touch me, Mr. Quick. I’m declaring war as of this moment. He has three days to return my daughter to me. If he doesn’t, I’ll grab people in his neighborhoods, instead of anyone foolish enough to enter mine.”

  With that, O’Halloran left the room, Donatello groaning out a low laugh.

  “You dumb son of a bitch…”

  “Bellacino, I’m in no mood.”

  “You let him fucking get the better of you, and now Emma and fuck knows who else are gonna fucking die.”

  “Bullshit, the way I see it, this has you written all over it.”

  Donatello sank his face into his hands and muttered again. “You dumb son of a bitch.”

  “What?” Phoenix snapped, pounding his fist on the table a few times. The whole ordeal got out of control far too fast.

  “You weren’t even looking for Emma. Just some damn couple who used to work for one of my old companies. Fucking Prescott.”

  Phoenix took the seat across from Donatello, grabbing the man by the arms and looking him dead in the eyes. Bellacino pulled at his arms, but Phoenix held firm.

  “I don’t trust you, Donatello. But right now you’re the only shot I have at stopping more people getting hurt. Your people, might I add. Do you have his daughter?”

  “No. I may hate that son of a bitch, but I don’t go after kids. Anyways, he’s got her locked in his estate to keep her safe. Paranoid father.”

  “Do you have the Bentons?”

  “Will you get off that already?! No! I don’t even know who the fuck you’re talking about. You need to find Emma for me.”

  “I’ll try my damnedest; I’m new to this arbitration.”

  “Well, you suck at it.”

  “Excuse the hell out of me!”

  “Oh, get over yourself, kid. I have enough to worry about and O’Halloran’s fucking war isn’t going to make matters easier.”

  “Donatello, listen I…”

  “Fuck off, already.” Bellacino stood and turned to exit the room. “Get the real Mr. Quick next time.”

  “He’s gone missing.”

  “Seems to be the trend these days, huh?” he said, shaking his head and leaving the room. Phoenix held his face in his hands as Dorian and The Pack strode in after a few minutes.

  “The hell did you do, McGee?”

  “Started war.” He looked up at the officers, holding his arms out. “What the hell did you expect?! I’m not a damn negotiator! I didn’t ask to be a part of this, I went to Donatello looking for the Bentons, you remember them, right?!”

  The Pack growled in unison, and looked amongst each other.

  “I went and pissed off Bellacino, because some stupid fuckers didn’t want to do their damn job and locate a pair of people who have gone missing.”

  “Don’t you pin this on us, McGee. Right now, we’re all you have keeping you from ending up in the damn river. O’Halloran is pissed. We’ll discuss this further in the car.”

  “I’ll fly, thank you.”

  “Get up and into the goddamn car, Phoenix.” Dorian rumbled and grabbed Phoenix by the lapel, lifting him with ease by only one hand. “Give me a reason to get you for resisting an officer.”

  Phoenix spat on Dorian, who then slammed him onto the table, lifting him and slamming him again. Then again, and again. McGee took the beating, knowing a flagrant use of his powers now would only make things worse in the long run, and a member of The Pack was with Suzette still. What little he knew of Jack led to trusting him, but he knew pack bonds in the lycanthrope community could surpass even family bonds.

  He was in over his head and, without help and backup, couldn’t get out of this one, not without others getting hurt.

  He’d have to go to The Cloister.

  CHAPTER 15

  Phoenix entered the front doors of McGee Investigations, his nose bloodied and his eye swollen shut. He grinned to Suzette who dropped a coffee cup on the floor, running to catch him as he collapsed.

  “The fuck did they do to you?”

  It was rare she showed this concerned
, friendly side. Jack ran over to help him up, before looking at the doorway where Dorian stood.

  “Jack, we’re leaving.”

  “He needs an ambulance.”

  “We’re leaving.”

  “Dorian!”

  “In the car. Now!”

  Jack looked at Dorian, then Phoenix and finally Suzette. “Will he be okay?”

  She nodded, moving under the detective and walking him to the waiting area, “I got this, see you later, Jack.”

  “Okay…I’m sorry, Suzette.”

  “Me too…”

  Jack left and Phoenix moaned, turning his head a bit to watch the car leave.

  “He hits like a bitch, that Dorian.”

  “Phoenix, seriously, don’t move; I need to make sure you don’t have a broken socket.”

  “I’m fine, anyways, I can’t waste time. I got places to go.”

  “You’re not going anywhere like this.”

  “One place, I am. It’ll heal me right up, too.”

  Suzette stepped back, shaking her head and pointing at the detective. “Something real bad must have happened. You wouldn’t go there unless the shit hit the fan.”

  “I don’t need an ‘I told you so’ right now,” he groaned, holding his side. He knew The Pack was on the take from someone. He couldn’t be certain if Jack was part of it yet; Suzette’s relationship with him made it more important to get to the bottom of this as soon as he could.

  “Damn it, McGee. You’re dragged off to God knows where, and you come back beaten to a pulp.”

  “I had to. I had the puzzle all wrong; the Bentons are just a piece. Now I don’t know what the picture I’m looking to build even looks like.”

  Suzette drew the blinds to the waiting area and propped Phoenix up on the couch, letting him gather strength as she got him a glass of water. She placed it in front of him and grabbed his cheeks, looking in his eyes and checking his pupils.

  “Jack couldn’t say what they were doing with you. This is where you tell me, so I can get angry at you for agreeing to do it.”

  McGee chuckled, which made him wince. “One of my ribs might be cracked; stop making me laugh.” He sighed, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. “They had me act as an arbiter between Bellacino and O’Halloran.”

  A breeze from the air conditioner made the curtains drift in the silence that followed. A stray sunbeam struck Suzette, snapping her out of her silence.

  “The police…made you act as a negotiator…between two Mafia families.”

  “After I fucked it up, they beat me up.”

  “Wait, how did you fuck it up? No. Don’t tell me, I’m still dealing with the police working with the Mafia. I need a moment to process that.”

  “Suzette, I don’t think your boyfriend’s involved. At least, not yet.”

  She pulled at her hair and turned away, growling, “I fucking hope not, and he’s not my boyfriend…”

  “He’s your boyfriend, admit it.”

  She pulled her hair back into a bun,. “Okay, how bad a fuck-up are we talking? Bad enough to go to the Cloister, I know, but what does that mean?”

  “I kinda…triggered the next turf war.”

  “What did you…?” She paused and inhaled slowly, putting her hands out and lowering them on the exhale. “You know what, I don’t care. It’s done.”

  “Thanks, I don’t need you beating me up, too.”

  “I like beating you up when you’re at 100%. It’s too easy if you’re pre-tenderized.”

  “Listen, help me up, I want to get upstairs so I can jet off.”

  “Just open the portal here, I’ll look away.”

  Phoenix shook his head; opening the gateway to the Cloister required privacy. It was the first lesson his former mentor, Jeremiah, had taught him as a teenager. Opening the door involved opening a fissure in time, space, and causality. To Phoenix, it looked like a silvery violet swirl on the edges of his vision. As a GearWitch, it didn’t affect him; anyone else would go insane.

  “No. Not risking it. Help me upstairs.”

  “Phoenix, you’re in no condition…”

  He kicked the coffee table and winced, trying his best to keep his cool. “Not now. Okay? Give me attitude later! Help me up there or I’ll drag myself up.”

  She balled her fists and slugged him in the shoulder, making him curl up, but acquiesced and got under him, helping him up the narrow stairway to his room. They’d just reached the room when the bell above the door rang.

  Suzette groaned, “When it rains it pours. I’ll be right back, okay?” She closed the bedroom door and returned to the main office.

  Phoenix grunted in response. He held out his hand and concentrated again on the spin of atoms, the pull of gravity. He used his pain as a focus, watching the silvery violet light spill from cracks in the air in front of him. The energy pulsed before and through him. Just being this close to the Cloister was helping his wounds to heal, the pain dulling, his ribs reknitting their bruised areas back together.

  “Phoenix…we have company.”

  He paused, closing his hand and whimpering a bit.

  “Can I have a minute, please?” he moaned and whined, trying to soak in as much of the energies as possible before slowly closing the rift. He felt buzzed from the exposure, his wounds aching but no longer impeding function. He knew the Cloister wouldn’t be happy with two attempted entries with nothing to show for it, but he’d explain it. He looked onto the bed and hugged Bouncer once more before walking downstairs, finding two large men in suits.

  “Oh hell,” Phoenix thought, “O’Halloran doesn’t wait…” He paused, waiting for someone to pull a gun, too exhausted to summon any power. After recent events, having a pair of hitmen end it all seemed like the perfect punctuation.

  Suzette gestured to him and smacked his elbow to shake the man’s hand. He paused and looked at his assistant, perplexed.

  Suzette grinned nervously, but not in a fearful way.

  “Phoenix, these men are from AGI.” She smiled, putting on her Sunday Best face, reserved for the big clients.

  “Mr. McGee, if you would come with us, Mr. Reginald Gemini would like to speak to you about a long-term contract. A limousine is waiting outside.”

  Phoenix’s lips curled at the corners slowly upward. Maybe his luck was starting to turn.

  The drive hadn’t taken long, a scenic ride of twenty-five minutes. The two gentlemen explained their department head, Mr. Bennington, had disappeared. McGee focused on the passing landscape, trying to figure out how this was going to work itself out. He knew Gemini wanted to help the city, and frankly, he could help Phoenix with his own predicament.

  Phoenix stared at AGI Tower as they pulled in. Taking the time to appreciate the sheer size of something was something you rarely did when you could fly. He and Suzette walked in, flanked by the security guards. Inside was a spectacle of modern architectural design; reinforced glass and steel polished to a chrome finish, like an amphitheater lined with elevators on the sides. A small sign hung behind the information liaison at the front desk. It bore a man with arms outstretched, over a cloud, with a red circle and a line though it, the international sign for no unauthorized flying.

  The two guards showed their badges, then ushered Suzette and Phoenix to sign in before taking them to an elevator. A guard inserted his access card into a slot above the various floor buttons. The doors immediately closed and the elevator ascended through the many, many floors of AGI Tower.

  The elevator chimed and the doors opened to a large open area. A woman in black with a blonde asymmetrical haircut, right eye covered by a fringe, sat behind a desk. She tapped furiously at the keyboard on her desktop, swiping, focused entirely on her tasks. Phoenix and Suzette stepped forward, the guards staying in the elevator as the doors closed. The detective smiled as he walked toward the woman, finding a nameplate on her desk.

  Ms. G. Levicia – Corporate Executive Assistant

  “Miss, we’re here for a meeting with
Mr. Gemini? Phoenix McGee.”

  She didn’t look up, didn’t even acknowledge the words, and just kept working. Phoenix looked to Suzette, who shrugged.

  Phoenix rocked back and forth on his heels a few times, before whispering, “Miss?”

  “I heard you, I was told you were coming from the front desk. You need special access to get here. Please sit, Mr. McGee. I’ll inform you when Mr. Gemini is ready.”

  She looked at him, faking a smile, and not doing it very well. Suzette gave her an approving nod. Phoenix held up his hands, feeling like a kid caught shooting spitballs in class.

  “I’ll…sit. Thank you.”

  Five minutes passed in silence, barring the tapping and slight squeak of fingers being swiped across the desktop. Suzette sat in the silence comfortably, Phoenix not so much. Attempts at charm were made, less successful than Ms. Levicia’s smile.

  “Ms. G. Levicia, what’s the G stand for?”

  Ms. Levicia stopped, her neck and shoulders seizing in frustration. She relaxed, putting on that false smile once more, and faced the detective. Her arms rested on the desk, her hands forming a plateau for her chin.

  “Guess.”

  He paused and looked to Suzette, who gave him the same deadpan stare of frustration and embarrassment to be in proximity with him.

  “Um, I don’t know…Gwen? Gabrielle? Gail?” he said in a nervous tone.

  Ms. Levicia took on a countenance similar to that of Suzette, saying nothing and returning to her work.

  “Genevieve?” he mused, looking to Suzette perplexed. “Georgia?”

  “Phoenix, shut up…”

  “I’m only trying to…”

  “We’re about to meet with possibly the most influential man in Rouge Mal, and you want to play games with his assistant?”

  “I…”

  “Phoenix, shut up and wait.”

  He crossed his arms, pouting like a child, looking at the large double doors to the right of Ms. Levicia, looking around the sparse office. There was sharp, angular furniture, two small doors off to the other side, and a filing system in a glass room with card access. McGee drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair when Ms. Levicia paused and checked her desk screen.