Dane Curse (4 page)

Chapter 6

“Ok, so Pinnacle is a sexy hero, there’s no denying it. But the thing is he’s not just sexy, he’s thee sexy. Nobody can compare, he’s the total package; the body, the face, the attitude, the intellect, the sense of right and wrong… all wrapped up in that white bread Americana that gets a girl purring. Seriously, every vibrator I own is named Pinnacle.”

“I named my pistols.”

“Not the same thing. My point is that Pinnacle worship goes way deeper than just a casual crush, every girl loves him, and yet we can’t have him. He’s the ultimate spoonful of forbidden fruit cocktail.”

“What about-”

“No.”

“I was about to say-”

“Fuck whoever you’re about to say. It’s Pinnacle. But even though we know it’ll never happen it’s alright, because how does a guy like that have sex anyway? Part of the thrill of squishing is losing control, and just giving yourself over to the lizard monkey brain that likes what it feels and wants all of it now, and if Pinnacle did that he’d crush your pelvis. I’m sure it would be worth it, but seriously, we’re talking crushed to powder here.”

I looked for a clock. “This is going somewhere, right?”

“Yep, and we’ll arrive faster without detours. Where was I?”

“Powdered pelvis.”

“Yeah. And that’s just with power in his thrusts. He could move so fast that the friction would give you two ovaries full of hardboiled eggs. The initial warmth would be nice, but…” She shuddered. “But that’s not really an impediment to the fantasy because you know he’d be so gentle and caring, and when he gave it to you rough it would be just what you needed.”

Fangirl breathed in through her nose like she was savoring wine, and sighed in a high-pitched way. Then she snapped back. “But it’ll never happen. He never has, in his long storied history, been romantically linked to a single woman, and most say he never will, either because he’s married to the job or doesn’t want to make her a target. So sorry girls, the showerhead’s as close as you come. Pardon the pun. Anyway, that’s the way it is, and that’s the way it’ll stay, but see, here’s the thing, here’s the story you’re looking for: A few weeks ago, from a reliable source, I heard that the Red Wonder has, are you ready for this, he’s went and got himself a steady.” She looked very pleased with herself.

“You’re telling me Pinnacle had a girlfriend?”

“Not had, has. There’s someone he’s regularly seeing, and it’s gotten so serious that we’re talking love here. We’re talking secret marriage.” She wore a bittersweet smile and looked straight through me. “Lucky girl.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, a girlfriend? How would you know? Check the undercarriage of the cow you’re selling me sweetheart. I get the impression it might be bull.”

“Bull? I know bull. Bull’s my thing and I don’t smell it, but you’re right to be suspicious, I know I was. I mean who would take that story at face value and all? It has to be verified, right? So I ran it up the flagpole. I checked his regular meeting with the SPECs, and then with the fan club to see when and where his patrol sightings have changed, and it checked out. Everything I heard leads me to the conclusion that Pinnacle’s disappearance has something to do with a woman he’s seeing.”

I shook my head. “This is nonsense.”

“Dane, this is the goods. Hell, it’s the greats. I’m telling you flatfoot, it’s the God’s honest.” She sat back and folded her arms. “Now, about my payment…”

“For that? You want me to tell you a tale that, best case scenario, gets me tossed in Impenetron and your insides pulled out, for that? Let me ask you kiddo, this mystery woman got a name?”

Suddenly Fangirl found her feet real interesting. “I don’t know.”

“Oh,” I said, “Ida No. Never heard of her. She got an address? Hair color? There anything in your bag of holding that looks or sounds like something other than girls’ room gossip?”

No answer.

“That’s what I thought,” I said, “I got to beat feet.”

“Hey, you owe me.”

I was midstride, but that stopped me dead. “Do I? Do I owe you? The ‘fi’ in ‘sci-fi’ may stand for fiction, but I live in a world of fact, fair maiden, and nothing you said is going to help me in my quest, so no, I don’t owe you. Not one gold dragon, not one thin doubloon.”

I turned to resume my exit, but Fangirl rounded the counter, and jumped in my path. “Tell you what, no payment is necessary.”

“Thanks.” I threw my coat on. “You spoil me.”

“Unless that nugget pans out.”

I wanted to give her arm such a pinch. “If this, what I graciously call ‘a tip’, pans out then maybe. Maybe I’ll talk about Top Tower.”

“If it pans out then you find our man. If you find our man then you solve your case. That means the shine on that nugget is twenty-four carat. If all that happens then I get my answers.”

“We’ll see.”

“Hey, maybe someday you need me again, and maybe on that day I won’t be in the answering mood.”

I grabbed her by both arms and hoisted her to my level. “You got a point,” I said, “it’s a dull one, but it’s a point, so I’ll tell you what Rumpelstiltskin, if you just spun straw into gold, and I run into a fictional girl who’s impossible to find on what little you’ve given me, I swear that I’ll talk.”

She cut a smile from one ear to the other. “Is it possible you’ll make payment this week?”

I dropped her. “Sure. Why not?” By then the city will probably be burnt to the ground anyway.

Chapter 7

Morning was in full swing when I pulled into traffic, and I got to my office a little after nine. It’s located on the fourth floor of a fairly busy building, but the door to my suite is nearly impossible to find because just above it, hidden in a smoke alarm, is a holographic projector. Thanks to that beautiful piece of technology when you take a good long look down my hall all you’ll see is a dead end. But it’s only effective in the long range. If you come within five feet it’ll stop working on you, and as if by magic a door will appear that reads: Dane Curse – Detective Agency.

I walked through it to find my four-armed secretary, Widow, at her desk typing away with both pairs of hands. She had on a sharp blue suit, black-rimmed glasses, and a tight bun that contained more dusky-hued hair than you would believe. Like me she once wore the black cape. Back then she ran with the Spinnerettes, and went by The Widow, and while I personally think it shows a lack of creativity when a cape of either shade puts ‘The’ in front of their name I don’t hold it against her. She was a sharp operator, and could’ve been a player for a long time, but then her brother died on the job. She came to me for answers, and I untwisted the whole sorry tale for her. Shortly after she joined the business. “You look like hell. New case, or did you lose a fight?”

“A little bit of both.” I hung my overcoat on the rack. “And how come it’s never a ‘good morning boss’ with you, huh? There are lots of gals out there who’d love your job.”

“Find just one and you’re a better sleuth than I thought.”

“Let’s hope that’s the case.”

Widow leaned her head into one hand as the other three kept typing. “Oh, so it’s a job. Anything I should know about?”

“All you need to know is that if I can pull this off we’ll be in the soy sauce for a long, long time.”

“We’re not that deep in ketchup now.” She had on her big sister smile. “But la dee da, doesn’t it sound exciting?”

“Maybe a little,” I said. “Hold my calls.”

“What calls?” she asked. “Who calls you?”

I opened the door that led from the waiting room into my office, and was halfway through it when Widow called out. “Hey Dane, hold up.”

I turned around, and poked my head out. “Yeah?”

“Good morning, boss.”

#

I closed the door, took a seat behind my desk, and reflected on Fangirl’s news. If Pinnacle had a girlfriend how did that fit into the puzzle? Was she missing him, or did she lure him to his fate? Was she a cape, or some reg? There are over twenty million people in this city, and more than half of them are dames, so if Ms. Ida No really existed she wouldn’t be easy to find. I needed something else to go on, but so far in every other area from weapons to suspects I had come up empty, which meant after five hours on the case I was no closer to where I needed to be.

I was too tired to improve my situation though. I needed some Z’s. So I grabbed a glass, along with a bottle of whiskey from the desk, and medicated myself. Then I laid down on the couch, tipped my hat over my eyes, and slipped into a nice, deep slumber.

Until…

“Hey Dane, you’re sleeping.”

“Thank you Widow. Did you think I was unaware?” I said through my hat.

“Just wanted to tell you I’m going to lunch now, I’ll be back in thirty.”

“Hmmm? Yeah, ok. If anything else that important comes up be sure to let me know.”

“Ha ha, you want something to eat?”

“Nah, I’m ok.”

Widow lifted the hat off my face. “Let me rephrase that: You want something to eat?”

Looking up at her brown beauties I knew the right answer. “Yeah, whatever you’re getting sounds good.”

She replaced the hat. “Sure thing hon. Hey, Pinnacle come home yet?”

Ugh
. I sat up. There was no getting back to sleep now. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. It’s been what, three days now.”

“Four.”

“Right, four. Always seems kind of strange not having him around.”

“I know what you mean,” I said. “Hey, can you grab me a paper while you’re out? The Chronicle.”

“Can do. I’ll tell you, four days… I wish I had a job like that,” Widow said, and closed the door behind her.

I don’t know why I asked for the paper. I didn’t put much faith in the Chronicle, but I liked the funny pages and who knows, maybe there would be something interesting to… 

Wait.

I jumped to my feet and bolted from the office at full speed, catching the elevator before it closed. “What did you mean by that?”

“Mean by what?” Widow said.

“What you said before, how you wished you had a job like that?”

“Well, most bosses don’t like it when you disappear for four straight shifts, so I’m thinking I wish I could do that too, you know, just take off without a word and not get fired. Actually, come to think of it, I kind of do have a job like that.”

“Don’t even joke, kid. You’d come back to disaster or nothing at all. Remember the paper.” I let the door close and ran back to my office. I hadn’t thought of it, I bet nobody did, but Widow was right; somewhere in town there was probably a pissed-off boss wondering where the hell his employee was. Assuming Pinnacle had a job, which I think he did.

See, there were a lot of white capes who couldn’t, or wouldn’t work a day-to-day gig. Team Supreme was full of them. Heroes like Glory Anna, Boy Mercury, and Doctor Velocity could hide their identities, but they wouldn’t bother. Their class of cape punched villains, not clocks. Working a day job would be beneath them. But Pinnacle, he was just the type to do something so human. I could see him working with people, helping in some other way than swinging his fists. You don’t act like him unless you were raised right, and that means work, and work means schedules, shifts, and attendance sheets.

I got to my computer and ran Sandworm, a brilliant piece of software that could access all sorts of protected information over the net. It had its limitations of course, but I wasn’t looking for Pentagon secrets, just some HR files from businesses all over the city, which was a piece of pie for Sandworm. My search would focus on men who shared Pinnacle’s height, weight, eye and hair color, and who’d been AWOL from work for the past four days.

I typed it all in and pressed enter, then sat back down on the couch with another tumbler of whiskey. It would take at least an hour for Sandworm to come back with anything, if there actually was anything to come back with.

Chapter 8

I was still waiting when the outer door to my office opened, and someone walked in. It wasn’t Widow. The dark outline on the opaque glass that separated the rooms was too big, too much a man’s. I put my drink down, pulled Rico, and clicked the safety off. Then I crept to the door.

Whoever it was stopped at Widow’s desk, and bent over it. Then the silent alarm on my wall, the one that reads ‘SPEC’, lit up bright red.

I relaxed, holstered my piece, and opened the door. “TGIM.”

“That’s what they say.” Laars Monday stood over six feet tall. He had eyes like sea ice a Viking ship might crash though, curly blond hair, and a smile that all the girls loved. As a SPEC Agent his standard getup was bright silver battle armor, but today he sported a dark suit and tie.

“So Detective Monday,” I said, and motioned him into my office, “you got a warrant?”

“Those rules don’t apply to the Special Powers Extraction Commission. And it’s Agent Monday.”

I finished my drink in one gulp. “I know. I preferred you back when it was detective.”

“Yeah, simpler times.” Monday took a seat in the chair while I resumed my spot on the couch.

“So, what’s this about copper? I’m not used to getting rousted by the bulls in my own office.”

“A man can’t drop by to say hi to an old pal?”

“A man, sure. But a SPEC? That would be a first.”

Monday was fidgeting some, which was way more than usual. “I just wanted to drop you a warning. Seems your name’s come across as someone of interest. There’s a BOLO on you.”

“What?”

“That’s right chief. All SPEC Agents will be on the lookout for a black cape by the name of Dane Curse. Height unknown, hair color unknown, yadda yadda.”

I poured myself another and downed it. “Why now? Who put a finger on me?”

“Don’t know the answer to either of those questions. There wasn’t even a misdemeanor attached.”

“Still, should I be worried?”

“Not worried. Careful. We get black cape BOLO’s all the time from local law enforcement or concerned citizens, and they usually don’t mean anything. So long as we don’t pick you up on something else you’ll be fine, but if we do it’s straight into indefinite holding so my advice is hug the grass for the next week or so.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“Well then keep in touch at least. I’d hate to lose the only pair of ears I got on the wrong side of the law,” Monday said.

I smiled. “I will. For the exact same reason.”

He laughed. “Cute.”

“It’s the dimples.” I leaned back into the couch as casually as I could, and said, “Hey Monday, before you go let me ask, how come Humphries doesn’t know where Pinnacle is?”

“The director? Who says he doesn’t?”

I poked a thumb into my chest. “Me. I says that.”

“Assuming you’re correct, I’d tell you that white capes and SPECs aren’t the same thing. Pinnacle doesn’t work for us so he doesn’t need to check in.”

“Yeah,” I said, “but you fight the same fight. Don’t you guys partner?”

“Sometimes, but not always.”

“Really? I’ve always figured what’s good for one is good for the other.”

“Well, it’s not a flag the Commission likes to fly, but the capes… they’re friendly competition. After all, we do the same job.”

“Only they do it for free.”

“And we do it better,” Monday said. “Why are you asking?”

“Something I heard about Pinnacle. Black capes have been trying to ice him for years, figure maybe something finally happened and the SPECs and Team Supreme are keeping it quiet. He’s been gone for four days and didn’t even say goodbye.”

Monday shooed my words away like they were gnats. “No, he’s fine. That guy’s impervious to everything.”

“Not everything,” I said, “no one’s ever tried one of your collars.”

He stared straight at me. “Are you working a case?”

“Nope, there’s nothing cooking at the moment. I’m just musing.”

“I hope so, otherwise I’d say you’re losing your touch. There’s no way a black cape could lay their hands on a collar. The technology is too sensitive. Heck, I can’t even requisition one without executive permission, and a whole lot of paperwork.”

“Maybe the technology could be duplicated.”

“Not with the safeguards we have in place. But don’t take my word for it, go ask Director Humphries.”

“Yeah.” I looked at the back of my computer. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

Monday got up, and opened the door. “Any other dumb questions before I go?”

“That’s all of them. And thanks for the heads up on my BOLO. I owe you.”

We shook, and he left. I liked seeing Monday, and I respected the hell out of him, but white capes and SPECs are more alike than he thinks, neither one ever delivers good news.