Dane Curse (27 page)

Chapter 52

Temper slumped over, and Rush went to help him, the kid moving slower than I thought he could. Skip crawled to Lynchpin, and tended to him. I stood my ground, and looked out over the city. Gold Coast was quiet. It was over.

Finally.

Then we were bathed in bright light.

I looked up to see a floating ship. It was solid and smooth with SPECs hovering on both sides. As it descended the bottom slid open, and a plank dropped to the floor. Then wouldn’t you know it, out walked the Romanesque woman of might herself.

“Glory Anna,” I said.

She was joined by the entire starting line-up of Team Supreme. There was Doctor Velocity in black, Boy Mercury looking muscular and futuristic, Blastema with her silver segmented arms, and Hayflick in all yellow.

“So, what do we have here?” Glory said. I could feel her voice.

“Why?” I said. “What have you heard?”

The entire Team Supreme stared at me.

“Lynx. I stopped her, and…” I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“And what?” Glory Anna said.

And what? I saved the day. And the city? 
“Nothing. She did it.” I pointed at Lynx. She was still in a heap, but her chest, or what was left of it, was rising and falling slowly. “She’s the one who killed Pinnacle.”

Glory shook her head. “That was Mindgame, and Sledge, and some-”

“No. Have the cops check Humphries’ story more closely and you’ll see that he’s wrong. Lynx fed that bunk to you as the anonymous source. It was all her. Mindgame built the nullifier, but she’s the one who murdered Benjamin.”

Team Supreme stood silent.

I holstered Lois.

“We’ll check up on that story,” Glory Anna said, “but until then…” She motioned toward Lynx and a dozen or so SPEC Agents and medics ran to her. One had a collar.

“If it’s all the same, I’ll do that.” I walked over and took it from him. The Agent gave Glory a quick glance, but I didn’t care about her response. I picked Lynx up with one hand and slapped the collar on. Her eyes opened and she shuddered, then she passed out again. I dragged her to the heroes.

“Do I know you?” Glory Anna said, taking Lynx off my hands.

I looked up into her eyes. “Nope. I’m just a PI.”

An Agent came over, and handed both pieces of the nullifier to Glory Anna. She took them, and asked, “This is what killed Pinnacle?”

“Yeah, that’s what Mindgame built,” I said.

She looked down at it. A large portion was gone, vaporized by Lois. And without undamaged blueprints, it could never be fixed. I had to smile. In the battle of the brains it was Varius, not Mindgame, who built them to last.

Some call him old fashioned.

I prefer the term classic.

“So,” I said. “If you have any other questions about the case ask Lynx, otherwise I think I’ll be going.” I waited a moment for an answer. Blastema’s mouth was gaping. Boy Mercury motioned toward me as he quietly jabbered to Doctor Velocity. Hayflick pulled back, just watching it happen.

They knew I was involved, but couldn’t prove anything. I smiled. They didn’t realize, but it was the siege of Top Tower all over again.

I turned to go, but stopped. There was something caught on the ledge. It was my hat. I walked over, picked it up, and put it on, then nodded to Rush and Temper. I was about a foot away from the door when Glory Anna called out. “I don’t care what really happened, the original story stands. The public will never know that Mindgame didn’t kill Pinnacle. Humphries and us, we’re the heroes, we get the glory, not you.”

I stopped, and turned around. “You know, not everyone’s in it for the glory.”

Chapter 53

And that was that.

I figured I’d catch up with Temper and Rush sometime down the line. For now my friendship would probably be something neither of them wanted to broadcast. And speaking of broadcasts, I made it back home in time to catch the news doing a special report on the explosion at Ultar Tower. They blamed it on a gas leak. I caught a glimpse of Monday working in the background and was real glad to see that he was still on the force.

Then I turned off the tube and slept.

For twenty-six hours I stayed in bed and brother, it was just what I needed. The whole thing was mostly dreamless, but I do remember seeing Pinnacle in there somewhere, and he seemed happy. If there’s a heaven, and that’s a pretty big if, then that’s where he is. But if not, and he goes to that other place, well, I doubt the devil’s got anything that can hurt him.

When I finally woke I had a solid breakfast of eggs, toast, and bacon, then headed to the office in the back of a taxi. I opened the door to find Widow hacking away on her keyboard doing the work of three as usual. I smiled at her. “It’s good to see you.”

She looked up without emotion.

I took off my hat, and stood in the doorway. “Listen, I’m real sorry-”

“Don’t,” the thin line across her face turned into a beautiful smile. “It’s nothing we got to worry about.”

I winked at her. “You really are the tops, kid.”

She returned to her work, and I closed the door behind me. “And you boss, you don’t look half bad yourself considering. How’s the hide?”

“Not as pretty as it should be. Scorched in some places. Frostbitten in others. Couple of holes I wasn’t born with, but otherwise still intact.” I hung up my coat and hat and made for the back office.

“FYI you just got paid for that hush-hush thing you’ve been doing.”

“Really?” I hadn’t anticipated payment at all, let alone so soon. In fact I was just happy to be breathing the sweet and salty Gold Coast air. Kind of strange, a man can do a lot with the dough I had coming. “Guess it’s time to retire.”

“Well, there’s not enough for that, but it’s not too shabby.”

“What do you mean? Ten million’s not enough?”

“Ten million?” Widow squinted at her screen. “Something must have happened to a few zeroes during the transfer because you got less than that.”

“How much less than that?” I rounded the desk, and looked over her shoulder. “Twenty-five G’s, that’s all?”

“Not too shabby, right? This’ll cover costs for months on end with plenty left over for a new Jalopy.”

“Ugh…” Over the years I’d put more than a hundred grand into Jane.

“You don’t look so hot.”

“Which is weird considering how often I was on fire this week. Hold my calls.” I walked back into my office.

Widow laughed. “What calls? Who calls you?”             

I closed the door and took a seat. Widow had left a copy of the Gold Coast Chronicle on my desk. The headline read: PINNACLE - A Retrospective. I tossed it aside, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out my last bottle of whiskey. I was going to need more. I was going to drink enough to stock an Irish wake. Then the phone rang, and Widow poked her head in.

“I know you said no calls, but there’s a guy on the line about a job he gave you. I tried to tell him you were out, but before I could he sort of… read my mind.”

Cogs. I just hate them. “Put him through.” I picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Hello, Mr. Curse.”

“Am I going to need a pen, slick?” I said, and picked one up off my desk.

“Not this time. How are you feeling?”

“Never better. Thanks for asking.”

“Really, I get the sense that you’re being less than honest.”

“Well, I’d be a lot happier if I got the fee I was promised in our original agreement.”

“That’s why I’m calling. My employer, you know the gentleman, would have been much happier too if you had stayed within its prescribed parameters.”

I leaned back in my chair. “How do you mean?”

“I believe there were conditions regarding this project. You were to find the responsible party-”

“Which I did.”

“Within five days.”

“Which I also did.”

“And to deliver them to the Sindicate. Not the SPECs, and not Team Supreme.”

“Now wait a minute-”

“And that you did not. I believe you instead turned the culprit over to Glory Anna herself.”

“Pal, if I didn’t pass Lynx over we’d all be breaking bricks at Impenetron. And it’s not like your boss-”

“Be that as it may you violated the terms of our agreement, therefore payment was forfeit. Your services were found to be somewhat satisfactory though, despite your willful manner, and thus a deposit was made into your account. We feel our business has now been concluded, and I wanted to call and thank you for your efforts.

“I’d also like to remind you to keep what has happened to yourself. We understand you provided Team Supreme with some information last night—another slight breach, but not unforgivable. However you cannot discuss this with reporters, the police, or any heroes or you’ll forfeit your fee. Is that clear Mr. Curse? Mr. Curse?”

I hung up the phone and poured myself just under a pint of booze. So that was it. The Sindicate was back to business as usual, Glory Anna was running Top Tower, and the nationwide SPECs would be busier than ever. Meanwhile no one would hear the truth. They tossed me some crumbs to keep quiet, and I had no choice but to choke on them.

But the city was safe. And I got justice for the greatest hero the world has ever known.

That’s all that mattered.

I finished half the glass in a single tug, taking some solace in the fact that whatever case I was going to take on next would be a whole lot easier than this one.

Then the phone rang again.

“Dane.” Widow poked her head in. “I thought you might want to know, that girl’s on the line.”

“What girl?” I finished my drink and poured some more.

“Fangirl. Should I tell her you’ll call her back?”

“No, put her through.” I picked up the phone again. “Hey kiddo, how’s things?”

“As good as can be expected. You ready to pay up? I got some questions about the siege of Top Tower.”

I thought about it for a second. “Yeah, I always pay my debts. But are you sure? I’d rather not have you post it. I’m already in enough hot water with Team Supreme as it is.”

“Sorry sport, I want my coin. Unless you got something better,” she said. “Do you got something better?”

I cleared my throat. There was no avoiding it, it was time to make good. Unless… “Hey, you’re not a cop, right?”

“No more than you are.”

“Or a reporter?”

“Negative.”

I smiled. “You know what, I think I might have something you want more. Do you still doubt the official story about Pinnacle’s death?”

Her voice dropped an octave. “Yeah, I do. But my sources say it’s as solved as it’s going to be.”

“You want to know a secret?”

There was a pause on her end. “About what really happened to Pinnacle?”

“Yep.”

“Is it accurate?” she asked. “Is it the goods?”

I leaned back and took another sip. Above Bittenbach Bay the sun was shining bright and strong. I could see Ayers Hill out in the distance, green and beautiful against the blue sky. In City Center Humbart’s Department store had a brand new window, and Four Corners was, without a doubt, pumping along as fast as ever.

Outside my window the city, my city, was waking up. “Yeah kid,” I said. “It’s golden.”

-THE END-

Dear Reader,

Thanks so much for taking this trip with me and the denizens of Gold Coast City, I hope you enjoyed the ride. Before you leave though, I’m afraid I have to ask for a favor. Indie authors rely heavily on reviews from readers like you. If they’re positive it helps drive sales, if they’re critical it offers an opportunity to improve the next book, but mostly this feedback lets others know if the story’s right for them. So please, however you felt about your time with Dane I would appreciate it if you’d share your opinion on Amazon.com, and thanks again. We hope to see you back in Gold Coast City soon.

The following is an excerpt from The Coconut Swindle…

“So fill me in,” Monday said as we pulled into traffic. “What exactly are we looking for?” 

“Accelerant,” I said.

“Accelerant?”

“Yeah. Thermite was a pyrokinetic, and blasting flames from your hands isn’t an asset if your body can’t handle a whole lot of Fahrenheit.”

“But his corpse was scorched black when we found it.”

“Exactly, so the fire’s temp had to be boosted with a chemical accelerant. Probably industrial grade.”

“Which leaves a residue. Nice,” Monday said. “You think we can find its origin?”

“If we do it might lead us to the black cape who bought it, and by extension the killer.”

A few minutes later we were parked in front of Gold Coast General Hospital. I got out of the car and we headed to the basement where they kept the morgue that cuts apart the powered corpses. The guard at the entrance was one I’d never seen. He was small, wore glasses, and his chestnut hair had a part on the left that Moses would be proud of. “Hi guys, can I help you?”

Monday flashed his shield. “We’re here to inspect the bodies from the museum heist. They still here?”

The guy shrugged. “No clue, the staff’s at lunch and I’m just covering, but feel free to check, officer.”

Monday and I walked through the double doors into the morgue proper. The cold air was sticky with the smell of mentholated antiseptic. White tile, the type that doesn’t stain, covered the floor as well as the walls, and on both sides of the room ran a row of gurneys topped with dead bodies. Each one was covered with a black sheet while a single tagged toe poked out the bottom like a flag at half-mast.

“You take that side,” Monday said, and headed to the right.

I walked down the left, reading the tags as I went. The names were familiar. There was Landslide, Slugfest, and Dinky Dee, but I finished without finding the two I was looking for. “Any luck on your side?”

“Nope,” Monday said. He turned to the door and called out, “Hey doc, get in here.”

The guy from outside entered, clipboard in hand, and strolled up to us. “What’s the problem?”

“The two guys from the jewel heist,” Monday said, “where are they?”

“Sorry, I’m not authorized to give out specifics. You’ll have to wait until the coroner gets back. It shouldn’t be more than an hour or two, but don’t worry, she can tell you where those meat bags are.”

I snatched his attention, along with some jacket, and lifted both a foot off the ground. “Hey pal, every last one of these ‘meat bags’ is somebody’s somebody, so show some respect before I fist fuck your mouth free of teeth, okay?”

His eyes got wider than his glasses. “I’m sorry I-”

“As incredible as it sounds I don’t care if you’re sorry, just answer the Aryan’s question, chop chop.”

“Officer?” He looked at Monday. “Some help please?”

The badge didn’t twitch.              

“Ok, so that’s how we’re doing this.” The guy turned his attention to the clipboard. He flipped through the pages and said, “Here they are, uh oh… It says they were sent to Ayers Hill. This morning. They’re pro-”

I dropped him and ran towards the door.

Monday was already halfway there.

#

“Doesn’t this thing go any faster?” I said.

“Yeah, much, but I want to conserve gas.” Monday laid on his horn as we ran a red light. A fruit delivery truck turned to miss us, jumping the curb and spilling mangoes in our wake.

“Cute,” I said. “You know if those bodies get buried we got nothing.”

“I’m aware.”

“So why aren’t you hitting the roof?”

“There is no roof. This is an undercover job.”

“You’re telling me there’s no siren in this thing?”

Monday shook his head.

“Jesus, where do my tax dollars go?”

We were at least fifteen minutes away, but thanks to Monday’s swift wheelwork we turned on to the road that ran up to Ayers Hill in less than five. That put us just under a mile away. I looked out my window. The sun was still high. It was pretty early, but that didn’t mean much, it’s not like gravediggers keep strict hours.

I started bobbing my knee. “Come on come on come on.”

Monday said, “We’re almost there. Look.”

I followed his gaze and saw the bone yard’s green grass at the top of the hill. I smiled. “We’re going to make it.” 

We skidded to a stop in the middle of the next intersection. “Maybe not,” Monday pointed ahead. “Road work.”

He was right. Halfway up the next block, in the middle of the street, was a team of four workmen. They were busy snaking a manhole, gumming up traffic in both directions.

“Damn it,” I said. “Go left.”

“That’s Red Forge Road, it doesn’t run to Ayers.”

I turned to the right. That way was worse. We were at the top of Hillymanjaro, Gold Coast City’s most treacherous incline. I looked down it. The road was like a ski jump. It was long and steep, and emptied right into Bittenbach Bay.

“To hell with this,” I said, “let’s ditch the boat, we might make it if we run.” 

“Really? And what do I do with the car?”

“I’ll shove it off the road.”

“Great idea, while we’re at it why don’t we-”

An explosion from Monday’s door sent glass flying like buckshot. I turned away, and covered my eyes. The impact sent our car onto its side. A second later we rolled onto our roof.

I was still in my seat, thanks to the belt, but was hanging ass up like a side of beef in a butcher’s shop. I looked out my window. A few feet above me was the dented bumper of the massive black truck that hit us. Its loud engine was still idling.

I turned to Monday, and shook his shoulder. Gently. “Hey Monday,” I said, “you alright? I think we got T-boned.” 

He just hung there limp while a thick line of blood wormed its way from behind his collar. It slithered down the side of his face and dripped onto the roof.

“That looks serious,” I said. “Come on, we got to-”

The truck’s engine roared, filling our car with smoke and the smell of gas. Then it leapt off the line and struck us broadside for a second time. My door crumpled in. The sound of metal biting metal cut the air. We slid sideways, our roof grinding loud against the asphalt as we went.

I reached out the window and jabbed the truck’s bumper. “What the hell you doing, Jack?” 

The black beast ignored me. It pushed us over the top of the hill and Monday and I started our descent, sliding like a greased toboggan with the truck close on our heels. One block flew by. Then another. After the third the truck slowed down. No. He wasn’t slowing down. We were speeding up.

Our roof starting spitting sparks. Reaching through them, I dug my fingers into the asphalt to slow our descent. I got all five knuckles in, but the street may as well have been chocolate cake for all the good it did. At this pace we’d be at the bottom in seconds.

But I had an idea.

If I could just get ahold of the truck I could tether us to it, and use his weight like an anchor. I reached out the window as far as possible. My fingers grazed its front bumper. Just another inch, that’s all I needed. With my free hand I grabbed the side of the door and pushed myself further out. I was almost there.   

Right on cue the beast hit the brakes. It screeched to a halt, and disappeared down a side street.

Then our car shook again.

I looked over at Monday. We had reached the bottom of the hill.

We jumped the curb and skidded across the pier. Then we were airborne, flying over the bay. For a peaceful moment we hung in the sky, as weightless as maple leaf on an Autumn breeze.

Then the car plunged into the waves below.

Water rushed in from all sides. I tried to yell, but the ocean, cold and brackish, filled my mouth and nostrils. I reached out for Monday, scrambling for his belt. But the world had gone dark. I couldn’t find it. The icy pressure built around me.

In the movies a half submerged car will politely float just long enough for the people inside to escape, but Monday and I sank thirty feet straight down into the silt of Bittenbach Bay in absolutely no time at all.

Other Black Cape Case Files

The Coconut Swindle

Old Iron

Grace Killer

Gangland