The Pandora Directive: A Tex Murphy Novel (10 page)

“Do you like ginger?”

“Sure. But I always preferred Mary Ann.”

Chelsee stuck her head into the doorway. “Not the girl, the spice… you dope.”

“Oh… I’m not sure. I don’t eat a lot of Chinese food.”

She walked out with two steaming cups. “Have a sip of this. And try to keep an open mind. It’s really good.”

I took the mug and held it under my nose. It smelled like the parlour in an old lady’s house. I took a drink; it was terrible. “Mmmm… This is good.” I’d just swallowed more sugar than my body usually had in a month. I was certain that another sip would induce a seizure. I set the cup on the end table.

“So what’s in the box?” the metal box had been resting in my lap for the past few minutes. Chelsee had eyed it curiously when she invited me in. I was impressed that she had kept from asking about it until now.

“A piece of a jigsaw puzzle.”

“Must be a big puzzle.”

I lifted the box and looked it over. “It’s tied to the case I’m working on.”

Chelsee lifted her cup toward her mouth and spoke through the sugary mist. “The same case that got you the bump on the head?”

“Yeah.”

Chelsee took a luxurious sip of instant ambrosia. “So why did you bring it here? I have a feeling you’re about to ask me to do something for you.”

Damn women’s intuition. They were always one step ahead of me. I set the box down and nervously adjusted my tie. “Well, now that you mention it…”

I told Chelsee I’d been tailing a guy who’d stolen the box. I said he panicked and dropped it, but that he’d be back looking for it. Soon.

“So what’s the big deal? He stole it. Tell him he can’t have it.”

“It’s not that simple. This guy was, er… has, a lot of big friends. They’ll do nasty things to me if I don’t give it back to them.”

“So you want to leave it here?”

Suddenly I realised I was asking too much. I was getting Chelsee involved in something so big that even I was a little nervous. “No… forget it. I shouldn’t have even considered it. I’ll… find some place else to hide it.”

Chelsee looked at me the way my mum used to. No other woman had ever looked at me like that. It made me feel warm and stupid all the same time. “Tex, I’ll be happy to help. I know you wouldn’t come to me in a jam unless you had to. You’re a stubborn, egotistical bastard, but you also hate to lean on anyone.” She moved to the arm of the overstuffed chair I was seated in and lifted the box from my lap. “I’ll keep this safe until you come back for it, OK?”

She said it on the end table. “And I don’t need to know anything else about it.”

I was relieved, but it felt like I should tell her more, let her know what she was getting herself into. “Listen, Chelsee. These guys are resourceful. I know they didn’t follow me here, but it’s possible they could track you down. I’ve got a lot to do, and I don’t feel really good about leaving you to fend for yourself.”

Some women would have taken offence at my concern. Chelsee didn’t; she seemed flattered. She leaned down and held my stubbled face in her smooth, cool hands. “Tex, I can take care of myself. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy having you take care of me.” Her lips pressed against mine, soft and moist. I kissed her back.

I left Chelsee’s apartment, still uncomfortable about leaving the box with her. She had assured me that she would put it in a safe place, and make sure no one ever saw it or knew about it. I had to trust her, but I didn’t have to feel good about it.

The first part of my plan was finished. I’d made my bet and was ready to show my hand. I guided my speeder onto Chandler Avenue and landed at the kerb in front of the Ritz. Two of the Feds’ thugs were on the corner, huddled together over a single flame, lighting both of their cigarettes. I stepped out the speeder and walked straight toward them. “Evening, gentlemen.”

They looked up from their smokes and stared at me like I was a fanatic passing out religious pamphlets.

“It’s me! Murphy! The guy you been waiting for!”

The two goons seemed stunned for a moment, then moved simultaneously, each one grabbing an arm.

“Oh… you caught me. All right, I give up.” I was half carried, half dragged to a speeder on the far side of the street.

The two thugs shoved me into the back seat, and one of them followed me in. The other jumped into the driver’s seat and fired it up. I turned to the stone-faced Fed on my left and gave him off he a big smile. “So… where we goin’?!”

“Please, Mr Murphy, make yourself comfortable. D you smoke?” I nodded. “Would you like a Nat Sherman?”

Ah, Nat Sherman. Tobacconist to the world. “I’d love a Nat Sherman, thank you.”

I leaned forward and extracted a cigarette from the case the NSA man held out to me. He was seated casually with one leg up and on the front of the desk. His face was hard, his hair cut short and severe. He produced a lighter and lit my Nat Sherman. I leaned back and looked him over. Dark blue suit, neatly pressed. Dark red tie over a starched white shirt. As he leaned back, I caught a glimpse of burgundy suspenders, which matched his brilliantly shined wing tips. I didn’t like the look of him.

“Do you know where you are?”

I drew in on my Nat Sherman and savoured the quality tobacco taste. “In your office?”

His smile said I’m going to enjoy killing you. “That’s correct. Do you know who I work for?”

“Can I have three guesses?”

The man stood up. As he walked around the chair behind the desk, I noticed the name Jackson Cross displayed on a brass nameplate. He sat down in the chair like he belonged there and looked up at the two thugs standing behind me. “This guy’s a joker, isn’t he?”

Cross shifted his gaze back to me. “Don’t dick with me, Murphy. If you don’t give me straight answers, I’m going to pull out my gun and shoot you in the face. And I’d really rather not have to bring it someone in tonight to clean my office.”

His voice was calm. My left eyelid started to twitch.

“I’d guess that you work for the NSA.”

Cross leaned back in his chair. “Give that man a cigar. Now for the big question. Do you know why you’re here?”

“No idea whatsoever.”

“Well, let me refresh your memory. Do you remember the other night? Up on the roof? The man you threw off the roof was one of our agents.”

“I didn’t throw him off the roof.”

“Your actions contributed to the death of an NSA agent. There is also the small matter of interfering in an NSA investigation. Either charge wins you an all-expenses paid, lifetime trip to Pelican Bay.”

Pelican Bay was the new and improved Alcatraz, a place I’d never cared to visit. “All I did was try to save a girl from being murdered. How was I to know that an NSA investigation was going on?”

“Tell me how and why you were involved.”

If this had been a police interrogation, I would have told them to stick it. This, however, was not the police. Everyone knew these guys were above the law and could kill people whenever they felt like it. I decided to play along, as far as they knew. “The girl at the Fuchsia Flamingo hired me to find out who had left her a couple of twisted notes. I kept an eye on her place and saw your man in her apartment. When I got to the apartment, your agent hightailed it. I followed him to the roof, and he tried to shoot me. We struggled; he went over the side.”

Cross picked up a pencil and tapped it on the desk. After a few moments, he looked up at me. “The agent was staking out the Fuchsia Flamingo. We’ve known for some time that high-level drug dealings have gone on in the club. A delivery of euphoria was brought there on the night in question. Our agent was in the girls’ apartment waiting to make a bust. The girl’s life was never in danger… at least not on our account.”

The NSA man was lying through his teeth. He sounded convincing, but his eyes and body said something else altogether. “Well, maybe what you say is true. All I know is that it didn’t appear like that, and I stand by my actions.”

Cross stared at me for what seemed like five minutes. “Tell you what you know about Thomas Malloy.”

“Who?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t know anyone named Thomas Malloy.” Well, that was true. I’d never met him.

He continued to stare me down. I’d never liked so well in my entire life. I hoped it was well enough.

“The euphoria our agent was attempting to confiscate was in a small metal container. It hasn’t turned up. I think you’ve got it. Where is it?”

“I’ve never seen anything remotely like that.”

Cross clapped his hands together and smiled. “Well, I guess that will be all, then.” he motioned to the two men behind me. “You can take him now. Make it clean. Get back here as soon as you’re finished.”

I felt four large hands on me. They were actually going to kill me. “Hold on! I’ve got the box!”

Cross waved the goons off. He folded his hands on the desk and looked at me serenely, his eyebrows raised expectantly. “So you do have it. You should have said that in the first place. Why don’t you tell us where it is?”

“Will you cut me a deal?”

“What do you have in mind? I have to warn you, I usually frown on compromises.”

I had to be careful. These guys wouldn’t hesitate to kill me. I had a decent hand; now it was time to raise the stakes. “Look, I didn’t ask to get mixed up in this business. I’m a small-time PI, living from case to case. It may not be much of a life, but I’m not ready for the Big Finish yet. All I want to do is get out of your hair and keep doing the things people do when they’re alive.”

“So you’ll trade me the box if I promise to let you go, no strings attached?”

“Yeah, that’s basically it.”

Cross was quiet for a minute. I personally didn’t think I was asking for a whole lot. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll cut you loose in exchange for the box. Where is it?”

I didn’t want to push my luck, but I wasn’t going to go soft either. “I’d prefer to deliver it on my own.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Look, you bastard, I could shoot you right where you sit,” he said more calmly than the words implied.

“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t have the box. And I guarantee you’d never find it.”

Cross sat back and assessed the situation. Apparently, getting this box was his first priority. I wondered what was in it. It sure as hell wasn’t euphoria. “How and when will you deliver it?”

I wanted to buy some time. Obviously I could get it in less than an hour, but I didn’t want to rush into anything. “It will take a little time. Give me thirty-six hours.”

“That’s too long.”

“Look, do you want it or not? I’m willing to hand it over; you’ve just gotta give me enough time.”

Cross didn’t like the idea, but I could see he was going to play along. “Okay, Murphy. In thirty-six hours, that box better be sitting on the desk in your office. If you’re there, too, I’ll have you shot. Once we’ve got the box, I’ll try to forget we ever spoke.”

He seemed to be talking straight. It was as good an offer as I was going to get. Cross got up and walked around to where I was sitting. He leaned down until his face was no more than two inches from mine. His steely eyes burned into mine. “Listen to me, Murphy. This the only time you’ll hear me say this. After I get that box, I don’t want to see your face again. If I do, I’ll put a slug in your eyeball. I’m going to have people keep an tabs on you for awhile, to make sure you stay out of our way. If you ever hear mention of the NSA, I’d advise you to turn around and run. Is that clear?

I nodded. Something told me that I was getting the deal of a lifetime. Cross motioned to the two Feds behind me.

“Get this pisshead out of my office.”

The N S A thugs were courteous enough to draw me off the back at the Ritz. Unfortunately, they have literally drop me off while the speeder had been going about 40 kilometres an hour. I leant into the lobby and up to my office. I open the door and flicked on light. It was good to be home, but God, it was a mess. The NSA boys had been impressively destructive. The Office look like the scene of an oversize gain of 52, Pickup. I have a my coat and hat. I’d clean the place up later.

After poking around for a few minutes, I was relieved to find the wrapping paper from Malloy’s package haven’t been confiscated. They probably ignored it, since Malloy his name wasn’t written on it. Lucky for me, or else my little white lie when have worked on agent cross.

Lord, I was beat. Turn down the lights made my eyes feel better. I cranked up my old phonograph, and suddenly Nat King Cole was playing piano and the back of my office. I fell into the chair behind my desk and turned on my bank Islam. After fishing out a Lucky Strike and pouring myself a tall glass of bourbon, I turned my attention to the brown-paper wrapper. Someone knocked at the door.

I just got uncomfortable and heated to get up. Briefly, I considered Britain in the norm was here but Nat. I rub my eyes. It was probably somebody important. Limping across the paper littered room, I reached the door and opened it.

It was the woman, Ms Madsen, from the police station.

“Well, hello.”

“Good evening.” She nodded and waited. “May I come in?”

I was a bit shocked and reacted a little slowly. A stepped aside and motioned for her to enter. She moved toward my desk, leaving him to dark fragrance in her wake. I close the door without taking her eyes from her. She was exquisite. Above average height, or burn hair that just touched her shoulders. Slender waist, curvy through the hips, perfectly shaped ankles. She walked through the paper trail and sat down in one of my newly upholstered guest chairs.

“nice place. Decorate it yourself?”

“Sorry about the mess. The housekeeper just started taking Prozac.”

I slid into my chair and picked up my still burning cigarette from the ashtray. A motioned toward my smoke. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“can I offer you one?”

“No. Thank you.”

I took a drag of the Lucky Strike and looked at her face. Her skin was flawless and very fair. Full, soft lips. Her large eyes were an unusual shade of hazel, close to Gordon Brown. There was a lot be read in those eyes. This when a strong, focused, determined. I decided to take an aggressive approach. “As suppose you came by to apologise for walking out to me at the police station.”