Steele-Faced (Daggers & Steele Book 6)

by Alex P. Berg

  “Howdy, Jimmy,” I said. “Feeling any better?”

  The big man had remained unconscious while we’d transported him to the brig. I wasn’t sure how much he remembered.

  “Sod off,” he growled.

  “Now, now, Jimmy,” said Shay, joining me. “That’s really no way to talk to officers of the law.”

  Jimmy’s brows furrowed. “You’re cops?”

  “More than that,” I said. “Detectives—Jake Daggers and Shay Steele. Yes, I know Steele here with her disarming smile and sultry beauty doesn’t look it, especially not in that dress, but she’s one of the best investigators in the city. And me? Well, with a face like mine, I’m surprised you didn’t suspect anything, but I’ll take the compliment. If nothing else, it makes me feel better about my undercover skills.”

  “Fine. Whatever,” said Jimmy. “What do you want?”

  “We were hoping we could chat,” said Shay.

  Jimmy snorted. He stared at the floor. “Yeah? Well, keep hoping.”

  “It might be in your best interests, Jimmy,” I said. “If we chat, perhaps you can shed light on the events of the past few days. If not…well, then Shay and I are forced to come to our own conclusions. You’re not particularly going to like them.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Jimmy.

  “Why don’t you break it down for him, Detective Steele.”

  Shay nodded. “First off, we caught you red-handed attacking Ghorza in her stateroom. That alone gets you an aggravated assault charge, although depending on how we prosecute it, we might be able to elevate it to attempted murder. And you might as well make those charges double, because based on Detective Daggers’ testimony, we know it was you who attacked him in the ship’s engine room last night. Of course, none of those charges hold a candle to actual murder, and, well…let’s just say a guy your size could’ve snapped Verona’s neck like a twig. The fact that you were snooping around in the engine room will help convince a jury you’re the snooping sort. The kind of guy who pokes around people’s baggage in a luggage compartment and wouldn’t hesitate to drive a knife into one of Johann’s thugs’ backs.”

  Jimmy’s head snapped up. “Wait, what? Luggage compartment? Thugs? What the heck are you talking about? I did not murder anyone in a baggage hold.”

  “So you’re admitting to killing Verona, then,” I said.

  “What? No! I did not say that. I mean, I admit I attacked Ghorza. At least…I think I did.”

  “You think?” I said. “What the hell do you mean you think you did?”

  “I…well…” Jimmy shook his head and averted his eyes. “I mean…look, I just—”

  “Spit it out, man!”

  “I don’t remember, okay!” shouted Jimmy, spittle flying from his lips. “There? Are you happy? I don’t know!”

  “Oh, come off it. You weren’t that drunk.” I breathed in deeply to confirm my own suspicions, but I didn’t get any whiff of alcohol from him. I didn’t remember smelling any on his breath during our fight in Ghorza’s quarters, either.

  “I didn’t black out from drinking,” said Jimmy. “At least…not from the booze.”

  “Maybe you should elaborate on that,” said Shay.

  Jimmy shook his head again. “As if you’d believe me.”

  Shay glanced at me. “We might.”

  “It’s…well…gods this sounds crazy.” Jimmy sighed. “I think somebody drugged me. More than once. Look, it’s no secret I enjoy a few stiff drinks every now and then. I’ve probably had more than my fair share over the last few days, but I know how liquor hits me. And messing with my mind? Making me sweat and setting my head on fire? Playing with my memories? Nuh-uh. That’s something else. Someone’s been feeding me something. I don’t know who, and I don’t know what, but they have.”

  I returned Shay’s glance. “Jimmy, I’m not normally the type to buy into stories about magical fairies and alien encounters, but in this instance, I believe you. Not only because it matches the hints you dropped when we chatted in the lounge a couple nights back, but because someone spiked my drink yesterday afternoon, too. I think I experienced some of the same symptoms as you. But here’s one of our problems. That evening two nights back when we met in the lounge? That’s the night Verona was killed. And you went missing right around the time she was murdered.”

  “What?” said Jimmy. “You can’t be serious. I didn’t kill her!”

  “If you expect us to believe that, then you’d better start talking,” said Shay. “We saw you at the opera that night, seated next to Ghorza. You had a fight and left. What were you arguing about?”

  “The same thing we are,” said Jimmy. “I thought I’d been drugged before I got kicked out of the poker tournament. I’d seen Ghorza that morning, looking like she’d been trampled by a horse. I wanted to see if she’d been drugged, too. I danced around the issue, ‘cause I didn’t want to tip her off that I knew, but she got sore with me and I left.”

  “Where’d you go?” I asked.

  “Down to the lounge. I got a drink from the bartender. Probably wasn’t the best idea, seeing as I still wasn’t feeling too good at that point, and darn it if that drink wasn’t spiked, too.”

  “You blacked out?” asked Shay.

  Jimmy nodded and pointed at me. “Next thing I remember, you showed up. I tried to play it cool, but I honestly had no idea what was going on.”

  “Why didn’t you mention anything?” I asked.

  “Why would I?” said Jimmy. “I didn’t know you were cops. And like I said, I was out of it. I was trying my best to stay upright.”

  I did some mental math. “From the point you left the opera to the point I met you in the lounge was maybe an hour and a half. Plenty of time for you to head down to the pool and kill Verona.”

  “What?” said Jimmy. “I’m telling you, I didn’t kill her. I blacked out in the lounge. I couldn’t have gone anywhere. I must’ve been there the whole time.”

  “Must’ve?” I said. “So you’re saying you don’t remember if you stayed there or not?”

  Jimmy started to stammer. “Well…no. But…look, I know how you cops think. You think I had an opportunity to kill her. But I had no reason to want her dead.”

  Shay snorted. “Verona knocked you out of the poker tournament, Jimmy. A tournament with a twenty thousand crown buy in. You must’ve been pretty angry about that.”

  “Angry, yes. At myself. For playing like a fool. I told your pal here the same thing in the lounge. And yeah, I was pissed about losing the money, but killing Verona wouldn’t have helped me in that regard. It’s not like she had my money with her. The ship held that, in escrow, right? I’m assuming they still do.”

  “Anger alone can be a pretty good motivator,” said Shay.

  Jimmy waved a hand. “Oh, come on. I know I come across as tough, but that’s just my persona. I don’t lash out in anger.”

  “Seriously?” I said. “You expect me to believe that? You attacked me without warning in the engine room, and you tried to choke out Ghorza in a fit of rage. And those aren’t guesses. We know you did it. There’s not even a shadow of a doubt in the latter case. Motive is irrelevant, if still a point of curiosity.”

  Jimmy stared at the floor again. “I… I…”

  “Admit it, Jimmy,” I said. “You’re a loose cannon. A raging menace. You have a serious drinking problem. Verona, an old, snooty elf spinster, took you for a ride for more coin than most people see in their entire lives, and it pissed you off. You whacked her out of spite, didn’t you? Is that why you murdered Johann’s man, too? Unadulterated rage?”

  Jimmy shook his head and gritted his teeth. “No. No way. I may not remember everything that’s happened over the last couple days, but I know myself. I’m not a killer. I was angry, yes, but I didn’t murder Verona, or anyone else for that matter. And I’m sure as hell not going to admit to anything I have no memory of, not when all
you have to go on is speculation.”

  “You’re sure that’s how you want to play this?” asked Shay.

  Jimmy nodded, still refusing to make eye contact. “Yes. Now get me a lawyer. I still get one at sea, right?”

  “You’ll get one,” I grumbled. “But you might have to wait a while. In the meantime, enjoy your stay.”

  I motioned to Shay. We exited the cell, past the brig door, and into the waiting area outside. Our sailor friend James was there, more to watch Jimmy than for any other reason. I waved for him to head back in.

  “Jimmy’s right, you know,” said Shay.

  “About what?” I asked.

  “His motives.”

  I frowned. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who pointed out Verona knocked him from the tourney.”

  “Yes, but we need to look beyond Verona,” said Shay. “We’re assuming he killed her, because he had the strength, motive, and opportunity to do so—assuming his story about being in the lounge all evening doesn’t check out. But what about his attack on you? Or his attack on Ghorza? What are his motives for going after either of you?”

  “Well, Ghorza won the tournament.”

  “And his plan was what? To strangle the cash out of her? Ghorza hadn’t received her money from the ship’s escrow account yet, though she may have by now. And Jimmy got knocked out two days ago. If anger were his motivation, why go after Ghorza? And why go after you last night? Of all the competitors, you actually showed him some compassion.”

  I rubbed my chin and chewed on my thoughts.

  “There’s more than that, though,” said Shay. “You pressed Jimmy about Lumpty’s murder, but Jimmy, along with Theo and Verona, were the only ones who couldn’t have murdered him. The waitstaff confirmed their presence in the bar area. And what about Wanda? She’s the one Steck initially tracked to the engine room.”

  “You need to stop bringing up important points of information, because the more you do, the less certain I become that Jimmy was involved in anything but the attack on Ghorza. I’m even doubting if he’s the one I hit with the rebar.”

  Steele knew I was joking, but she still gave me time to process my thoughts. For a minute, anyway. “What’s the other problem you hinted to Jimmy about?”

  “Pardon?”

  “While talking to Jimmy about Verona’s murder, you mentioned we had a number of problems. You only mentioned Jimmy’s lack of an alibi for the time of her death.”

  I sighed. “Right. Well, the problem I had in mind is more one for us than him.”

  “Being?”

  “Being that people who are drugged don’t behave the way we’re supposing Jimmy did,” I said. “Suffer from dizziness and sweating and headaches like I did? Check. Black out so they can be taken advantage of? Check. Get sloppy and aggressive and get into fights if provoked? Check. But lurk around, tracking people, and murdering them in secluded areas? No check. Anti-check. X. Whatever the opposite of a check is.”

  “It could be Jimmy is simply lying about the drugs,” said Shay.

  “Except we didn’t volunteer that possibility. He offered it himself. And it matches the behavior I observed out of him as he got knocked from the tournament and when I talked to him in the lounge.”

  Shay crossed her arms and frowned. “So what do you want to do?”

  I smiled. “Same thing we always do. Keep investigating until we’re convinced we know the truth beyond a shadow of a doubt. We’ll start in Jimmy’s stateroom. If we can find the knife he used to kill Lumpty, I’ll change my tone. And we should send word to Steck. We need to check Jimmy’s story about being in the lounge all evening two nights ago against the waitstaff’s accounts.”

  “I’m sure he’ll love the extra work,” said Shay.

  “It’s the curse of being a cop.” I waved toward the exit. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  36

  I closed a dresser drawer and threw up my hands. “Well, I give up. There’s nothing here.”

  Shay stepped from Jimmy’s bathroom. His stateroom largely mirrored our own, except his had only a single bedroom and the living area was smaller and less ornate.

  “Agreed,” said Shay. “I didn’t find any knives or weapons of any kind. No drugs, either, unless you include the booze—and that doesn’t really count because it’s all gone.” She shook an empty bottle at me as evidence.

  “None of which means anything,” I said. “He wouldn’t have drugged himself, and if he did murder Lumpty, he could’ve thrown the knife overboard or into a maintenance hatch. Therefore, we keep digging.”

  “So where should we place the next hole?”

  “I was thinking I’d get your input,” I said. “I’m not the only one with ideas worth paying attention to.”

  Shay smiled. “I know, but I’m willing to let you take the reins more often than not. With that said, though, I think either Wanda or Johann should be our next targets for interrogation.”

  I pursed my lips. “The nice thing about being on a ship is the suspects can’t disappear on you. Why don’t we start with Johann? He clearly suspected Verona’s death, he was in the general vicinity of the pool the night she was murdered, and he knew about his own man’s demise.”

  “Works for me.”

  We headed back to the promenade deck and in the direction of Johann’s stateroom. Before heading to Jimmy’s, we’d rendezvoused with Steck. To his credit, he’d stayed true to his word and hadn’t balked at the additional task of talking to the waitstaff again. While there, he’d given us a list of all our competitor’s room numbers, and we’d liberated the skeleton key from his clutches. Steck hadn’t been sure if Boatswain Olaugh would approve of the transfer, but he and his captain had thrown us their full support, so I didn’t see why he wouldn’t.

  We reached Johann’s room. I knocked on the door. After a moment, it cracked open.

  Humpty stood in the gap. “Yes?”

  “We’re looking for Mr. Preiss,” I said. “And chance he’s in?”

  “It depends. Who’s calling?”

  I took a gamble. “Tell him detectives Daggers and Steele are here.”

  The tough’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’ll check.”

  He closed the door. Shay glanced at me. “Sure that was wise?”

  I shrugged. “The man hasn’t been particularly chatty when he thought us simply his competitors. His mood only soured after Verona and Lumpty’s deaths. The threat of the law might loosen his lips.”

  We stood there tapping our toes for a minute. The door reopened. Humpty again. “This way, please.”

  We followed him to a living room much like our own but more opulent. More filigrees on the furniture’s arms and legs, more crystal in the bar, more flowers on the hearth, and more gold inlay on the decorations. More of everything. Apparently the police department hadn’t spent quite as much on our undercover operation as it could’ve.

  Johann stood in front of one of the sofa chairs, dressed as always in an impeccably tailored three piece suit. “So. Detectives Daggers and Steele, is it? I must admit I’m surprised by your visit, although I’m even more surprised by the information you related to my man. I’d suspected you hadn’t been entirely honest about your relationship to the rest of us, but detectives? Tell me, in what capacity do you function? Private? Municipal?”

  “We’re with the NWPD,” said Shay. “5th Street Precinct.”

  “And your specialty…?”

  “Homicide,” said Shay.

  Johann’s jaw hardened. “So…you knew? That someone would be killed? And you did nothing?”

  “No,” I said. “It’s complicated, but suffice it to say we weren’t here in our capacity as homicide detectives. We came to investigate a fraud that was supposed to take place during the poker competition. The fact that anyone died during our time aboard was simply an…unlucky coincidence.”

  Johann’s face fell. “Ah. I see. So you heard the rumors.”

 
; “You heard them, too?” asked Shay.

  “Everyone heard them.” Johann waved at the sofa. “Please, have a seat. Both of you. I’m assuming you have questions for me, so let’s have at it. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  “You will?” I helped myself to a free spot on the couch, and Shay sat next to me.

  “Well, of course. What? You expected me to stonewall you? Why?”

  “Well…”

  Johann eyed me and took note of the look on my face. “Oh. I see. You thought me a suspect. Well, I imagine you think everyone guilty until proven innocent, but I assure you, I want this solved as much as you do. I was very fond of my man Ignatius. I considered him not just a bodyguard, but a friend. And as for Verona… I suppose if you’re here, you can tell me what actually happened to her?”

  Shay cleared her throat. “She was murdered, in the ship’s pool area. Someone broke her neck. We found her floating in the water.”

  Johann’s face darkened. “And you don’t know who did it?”

  “We have our suspicions,” I said. “But for now, no.”

  Johann ground his teeth together. “The bastards. How dare they, whoever it was?”

  “You seem surprisingly bent out of shape about Verona’s death,” I said.

  “Well of course I am, you idiot,” he barked. “I loved her.”

  I glanced at Shay. She looked as surprised as I felt.

  Johann took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “My apologies. You’re here to help. I shouldn’t have exploded like that. I’m just…having a hard time dealing with the news.”

  “Mr. Preiss, I’ll admit, you’ve caught us off guard,” I said. “Perhaps you could fill us in? Specifically, could you tell us everything you know about the night Verona died?”

  The old man nodded. “Certainly. I’ll try to keep it brief. Verona and I…well, we go a long way back. Some thirty years ago we dated. At the time I suspected I would some day wed her, but I was too busy establishing my business. I spent too much time on it and not enough on her. Verona forgave me for it as best she could, but one day I lost a large sum of money on—of all things—a gamble. She left me shortly thereafter. I suspected it was because she didn’t want to marry a pauper, but over the years I realized perhaps she took more offense to my reaction to the loss than the loss itself. Perhaps it was a combination of factors.