Steele-Faced (Daggers & Steele Book 6)

by Alex P. Berg

  “I never claimed to be,” said Zander. “I’m the ship’s medic. Technically, I’m a registered nurse.”

  I ran a hand through my hair. “Oh, wonderful.”

  “Please tell me you at least have a scalpel and some tweezers on hand,” said Shay.

  “Well, of course I do,” said Zander, hefting his bag. “I have a whole host of medial supplies and equipment.”

  “You just don’t know how to use any of it,” I said.

  Zander glared at me. “Hey, now. That’s uncalled for. Slicing up bodies wasn’t part of the job requirement.”

  “He’s right, Daggers. No need to get snippy. Now Zander, the scalpel and tweezers, if you please. Daggers, give me a hand.”

  Now it was my turn for surprise. “Are you suggesting we perform the autopsy?”

  “When I hang out with Cairny, we don’t just giggle and talk about shoes,” said Shay. “I’ve learned a lot from her, and while I may not possess her level of expertise, I know what I’m looking for. We can do this. It’s not like we have any better options.”

  I glanced at Verona. Lumpty’s death was one thing, but her? The memory of her sitting at the table, laughing idly, teasing people and blowing smoke in their faces was fresh in my mind. Now I found myself in the position of having to drive a sharpened steel blade into her not yet cool flesh.

  As for Shay? I shook my head. “You know, it feels like yesterday that you wandered into the Captain’s office and he sent us to investigate that dark elf with the hole burned through his chest. I razzed you mercilessly, calling you green and trying to make you queasy. Now look at you.”

  “It doesn’t feel like yesterday to me,” said Shay. “It feels more like a lifetime ago. I’ve grown a lot since then. And I dare say you have, too.”

  Wasn’t that the truth. So many things had changed, and so many of them for the better. But those changes still didn’t make me excited for what we had to do.

  I sighed and held out a hand. “Zander? Scalpel me. Shay and I have work to do.”

  24

  With Shay at my side, I trudged back toward our stateroom, exhausted, emotionally spent, and even a little hungry despite the grisly nature of the work we’d completed. While I’d anticipated how challenging the dissection of Verona’s body would be on a psychological level, I hadn’t guessed how physically taxing it would be. My fingers and forearms ached, and I couldn’t wait to get them some rest—but not before washing them. I had enough dried blood, skin, and bits of assorted gore under my fingernails to create my very own Verona voodoo doll.

  I stopped in front of our door and dug in my pocket for the keys.

  Shay put a hand on my arm. “Wait.” She nodded at the frame.

  “Huh?”

  It took me second to figure out what had drawn her eye, but then it dawned on me. My hair was gone.

  I growled under my breath. “Will this day never end? Alright, stay behind me. Keep your eyes peeled. No guarantee they’ll be gone or won’t have left any nasty surprises for us just because that was the case the last two times.”

  I turned the key in the lock and pushed on through.

  I was right. The intruder hadn’t left. They’d chosen to hang out in our living room in plain sight. And take a nap, apparently.

  Luckily for Shay and me, the intruder was Steck. He startled awake as I slammed shut the door.

  “Good gods, Steck,” I said. “You would’ve given me a heart attack if I hadn’t already known you were in here.”

  He stood quickly and shook his head. He blinked several times. “Oh, I, uh…sorry. I must’ve fallen asleep. It’s been a long day, and—wait, you knew I was here? Who told you?”

  “No one,” said Shay. “We have our ways. But what are you doing here? How did you get in?”

  “Ah, well…” Steck reached into his pocket and produced a thin, notched piece of metal. “Skeleton key. Olaugh lent it to me. You see, after I roused the ship’s medic, I met back up with the Boatswain and James in the former’s quarters. I had some matters I wanted to discuss, and I also needed to pick up that list of guests with items in the luggage hold which Olaugh had promised me was ready. With that in hand, I thought I’d deliver it to you, but to be perfectly honest, I didn’t want to come by and watch you perform an autopsy. I, uh…get queasy.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Hey, I’m a vice cop for a reason,” he said. “I figured I’d wait for you here, but waiting outside your quarters in the hall would look suspicious if anyone were watching. So Olaugh lent me the skeleton key. I guess I fell asleep. That couch is more comfortable than it looks, and that’s saying something.”

  “So…the list?” I said.

  “Oh. Right.” Steck patted himself down before eventually finding what he was after in his interior vest pocket. He produced a sheaf of papers and held them forth.

  I stilled him with a hand. “Just give us the highlights.”

  “Oh. Sure. Well, let’s see. Four of your competitors actually have bags in the hold. Theo, Johann, Ghorza, and Jimmy.”

  “And what does each of them have down there?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Bags,” said Steck. “I mean, I can tell you their approximate sizes and colors, but I have no idea what’s in them. We can’t crack them open without probable cause, and as far as we can tell, none of the bags owned by the stated parties were forced open by Johann’s man.”

  “So Johann has a bag in the hold?” said Shay. “That means Lumpty might’ve been down there accessing Johann’s own possessions. I wonder if his death stemmed from a robbery. That might explain why none of the bags were forced.”

  “I suppose, but that’s pure speculation.” I rubbed my chin and started to pace around the living room. “Okay, look. I know it’s late. We’re all tired, and we need sleep. But we’re also all here, and we’ve had two murders in the past two nights. Clearly something major is afoot, so let’s go over what we know. Shay and I just completed a rudimentary autopsy on Verona. Her lungs had a bit of water in them, and we found a rotational fracture in two of her vertebrae, meaning someone broke her neck and tossed her in the pool as she was sucking her last gasps. Verona’s skinny, but she’s no pixie. Someone strong must’ve killed her. Jimmy, Ghorza, Orrin, or one of Johann’s thugs, maybe. Possibly Johann himself, depending on how much muscle still lingers under those suits of his.”

  “But given the timing of her death, we have to eliminate Ghorza and Orrin,” said Shay. “We saw both of them at the opera, and they stayed throughout.”

  “Which leaves Jimmy and Johann,” I said. “But neither of those feels quite right to me. When we bumped into Johann, he seemed downright chipper. And I talked with Jimmy at the bar following the end of the opera. While he was surly and drunken, he was more concerned about the results of the day’s card game than anything else.”

  “A card game he lost to Verona,” said Shay.

  “True,” I said. “But what’s his motive for murder? He can’t steal Verona’s poker earnings. The house still holds those. So what then? Revenge? For losing a hand he admitted he probably shouldn’t have gone all in on in the first place? I didn’t get that vibe from him.”

  Steck tapped his chin. “You know, if you narrow your suspect pool to Jimmy and Johann, only one of those wasn’t accounted for at last night’s mixer. Johann.”

  “But you’re assuming the same individual committed both murders,” I said. “And we’ve already gone over this. Why would Johann murder one of his own men?”

  “One of our problems,” said Shay, “is that while we have a plausible motive for the murder of Verona—that being revenge or anger due to the results of the poker tournament—we have nothing of the sort with regards to Lumpty’s death. We need to figure out why someone would want to kill him. If I’m right about my robbery theory, it could’ve been anyone.”

  “Which means we need a better idea of who had the opportunity to off him. Or the
means.” I snapped my fingers. “Steck. That skeleton key. It can get you into any of the staterooms?”

  “I don’t think I like where you’re going with this,” he said.

  “We need to find the knife that was used to murder Lumpty,” I said. “If we find that, we find our killer.”

  Steck wiped a hand across his face. “Look, Daggers, you know as well as I do I can’t go around breaking into people’s rooms. Never mind all of our covers would be blown if anyone chanced across me, but even if I did find a knife, we couldn’t do anything about it. It would be inadmissible evidence.”

  “But would it really be breaking in?” I said. “You have a skeleton key, and the approval of the boatswain—not to mention we’re in international waters. And you’re not really looking for the knife. You’re looking for the knowledge of who has knives in their possession. The knowledge is all we’re after at this juncture.”

  Shay crossed her arms. “Daggers, you’re toeing a thin line with that reasoning, and it’s a line were not supposed to be anywhere near.”

  “Alright, fine,” I said. “We’ll save that as a last resort. But we need to keep it on the table. Lives are on the line.”

  Steck nodded, as did Shay, reluctantly. After a moment of silence, Steck spoke up.

  “Look, guys, you know I’m willing and able to help with this investigation in any way possible, but as you already said, Daggers, it’s late, and I’m tired. I’ve already crashed once.”

  “I hear you,” I said. “We all need sleep. Our minds will function better in the morning.”

  “Thanks.” Steck took a step toward the door.

  “One last thing, though,” I said.

  He paused, his face sagging. “Yes?”

  “Can you keep an eye on Wanda for me? I don’t trust her. She’s always missing at crucial points in our timelines, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure it was her who broke into our apartment this afternoon. I want to know what she’s up to.”

  Steck nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  He left, and I locked the door tight behind him. Steele lingered in the living room.

  “Well,” she said as I returned. “I think I’m going to take a quick bath before turning in. I feel like I have corpse stink all over me. With any luck, it won’t linger on the dress. That would be a tragedy.”

  “Likewise,” I said. “Hopefully I won’t have to wear this tux again tomorrow night. Then again, maybe the smell will fade if I hang it up. Or maybe it’s all in our minds and the smell will fade along with the memory.”

  “Perhaps.” Shay smiled. “You know, despite it all, I had a nice time tonight. Again.”

  “Me, too,” I said. “Two nights in a row. That must be some sort of record.”

  Shay pshawed. “For you, perhaps.”

  “I meant for us.”

  Shay’s smile widened. “Good night, Daggers.”

  I bobbed my head, and she closed her bedroom door. Again, it wasn’t the end to the night I’d hoped for, but considering the circumstances, it could’ve been far worse.

  I glanced at my fingernails, grimaced, and headed to my bathroom.

  25

  I escorted Shay back into the high stakes poker room at the back of the ship’s casino, my belly full of sausage and eggs and my eyes surprisingly wide open thanks to the restorative efforts of three cups of coffee. Even Shay had forced down a cup, more out of necessity than desire—or so she claimed. I’d make a convert of her eventually.

  Despite our late night, we’d beaten some of the others to the room. The gallery was oddly empty, but Theo sat on a stool in a corner, dangling his toes in the air. I spotted Orrin at the bar, and surprisingly enough, Johann had arrived as well. The latter sat at one of the corner tables with a deep scowl embedded into a granite visage. His two toughs, Humpty and Dumpty, stood at his chair’s back, their arms crossed and their chests puffed. They practically dared anyone to come within swinging range.

  “Well, he doesn’t look anywhere near as chipper as he did last night,” I said under my breath.

  “And so the mystery deepens,” replied Shay in kind.

  She turned to stand in front of me, straightened the lapels of my jacket—today a warm chocolate brown with cinnamon pinstripes—and adjusted the knot of my cream-colored tie. “So…should we mingle?”

  I took a second to admire my partner’s own attire—a light grey and black cocktail dress that hugged her torso before poofing out at the waist. She looked spectacular as usual, which was both a blessing and a curse: a blessing for obvious reasons, a curse because it would make focusing on the cards that much more difficult. I could only hope it would distract the others equally.

  “We could try,” I said. “But it doesn’t look as if Johann is in much of a mood to chat.”

  “Oh, trust me, he’s not.” Theo approached, having descended from his throne. “I already tried. His goons almost tore me in half, and Mr. Preiss himself said not a word.”

  “Good to see you again, Theo,” said Shay. “So…any idea why he’s here, then? I can’t imagine he’d want to watch the rest of the game without having a stake in the result.”

  I wasn’t sure if that last line was meant to be so lucid, but if Theo picked up on it, he didn’t reveal it.

  “Your guess is as good as mine, my lady,” he said. “He’s been here the whole morning, as far as I can tell. At least he beat me here, and I was the next earliest to arrive, which made for conversational awkwardness, as you might imagine. It didn’t get any better when Orrin arrived. I get the feeling most of our fellow competitors are getting annoyed by my talkative nature.”

  “And who says we’re not?” I smiled.

  Theo smiled back. “Touché, Mr. Waters. But if I do annoy you, at least you’re kind enough not to show it. Or smart enough not to. One of the two. I have my thoughts as to which.”

  I heard a swish of fabric, and Ghorza entered through the door, wearing a voluminous purple dress. Her manservant, Vlad, followed her closely. She gave our trio a nod before heading toward the bar.

  “And now the wait is down to two,” said Theo. “Tell me, who do you think will be the last to arrive? The elusive, secretive Wanda, or the lush, Verona? Unless Jimmy shows up, of course, in which case I’d have some questions about what the heck is going on.”

  It was such a simple question, and yet not one I’d prepared for. It did beg another, though. With Verona’s death, how would the tournament proceed? Would it, even?

  The gods decided I’d suffered enough over the last few days and granted me a small boon. Wanda walked in through the front door, black turtleneck hugging her chin and with her large, circular tinted glasses shadowing her face.

  “Well, that answers that,” said Shay. She delivered the line calmly, without a hint of emotion. She had come a long way.

  “And so two becomes one,” said Theo. “Can’t say I’m surprised, really. With as much as Verona had to drink yesterday? If I were in her shoes, I’d probably sleep for a week and not shake off the buzz.”

  “You would’ve keeled over by the third martini,” I said.

  “I am small, I admit,” said Theo. “But when it comes to distilled beverages, I punch heavier than my weight, trust me. And despite my size, I’ve never disappointed a woman in bed. So, you know…keep that in mind, Mrs. Waters.”

  Shay snorted and lifted an eyebrow. “Are you coming on to me, Mr. Hornshoe? And in front of my husband, no less?”

  “Hey, there’s always a chance you’ll get tired of old tall and handsome over here,” he said. “I strike out more often than not, but my strategy has always been volume.”

  Patty entered through the front and took a seat at the table. She opened a brand new deck of cards and began shuffling, but she didn’t make any announcements.

  Theo eyed the table, then us to see if we had any insight. A number of the other players behaved in a similar fashion.

  Once again, I heard the swi
sh of fabric from the drape that hung over the front door, announcing yet another arrival. Boatswain Olaugh, this time.

  “Well, that’s not Verona,” said Theo. “Not as pretty as Verona, either. And before you ask, no I didn’t hit on her, too.”

  “Seems an odd thing to mention, unprovoked,” I said.

  “Ok, fine. I did. Like I said, volume.”

  Olaugh cleared his throat. “Excuse me. Ladies and gentlemen? I’m Boatswain Olaugh, and I require your attention. As you’ve all noticed, Madam Quivven has yet to arrive. I regret to inform you she will not be joining you. There’s no easy way to say this, so I will simply say it. Madam Quivven suffered a fall last night while in the ship’s pool area. She slipped into the water, and…well, she’s no longer with us.”

  I heard several gasps and murmurs, but they were drowned by Johann’s powerful voice. “LIAR!”

  The older man had stood, his face beet red and his jaw quivering. He pointed an accusatory finger at Olaugh. “Liar, I say! You expect us to believe she simply slipped and fell? Through no malicious action? Bollocks! If that were the case, why would you hide this from us?”

  “Sir,” said Olaugh. “The event occurred late last night. This is the earliest you were all gathered, and of course, we had to enact our own investigation into the matter—”

  “Lies! If any of that were true, you would’ve also revealed that my man Ignatius has been missing since the night before last.” Johann swept his accusatory finger around the room. “That’s right! One of my men has been missing for thirty-six hours, and I don’t for a second think he’s gone rouge. He’s dead! I know it. Someone killed him, and someone killed Verona! There’s a murderer among us!”

  “Sir, I must ask you to keep these baseless accusations to yourself,” said Olaugh. “Not only are these rumors slanderous, but they risk creating a panic where none is needed. Now, seeing as you’ve already been eliminated from the tournament, I must ask that you leave. Peacefully.”

  “Oh, a panic is needed, all right,” said Johann. “But you won’t have to lay hands on me. I can see where your loyalties lie. But the rest of you need be aware of what’s going on. Watch yourselves, or you might find your head on the block next!”