I didn’t get ten steps before a clap of thunder boomed overly loud in the ruined safe house. I didn’t bother looking back.
Chapter 21: Mastermind
“You look like you can barely stand, Mick.” Moe Flacco handed me a flask.
I accepted it with a nod. “Everyone keeps telling me that.”
“I’m serious. You’ve got a lot of lead in you right now. I have a guy who’s good at pulling that out.”
I downed a swig of brandy. “I’ll get better.”
He chuckled roughly. “Everyone says you’re a tough sonovabitch, Mick. Gotta say the rumors weren’t exaggerated.”
Rain dumped on us as we stood outside. The safe house was an empty shell with shattered windows that gazed accusingly at us. A couple of the wheelers still smoked from the barrage Natalie unloaded on them. Unsurprisingly no police arrived on the scene. Moe had enough cops in his pocket to keep the area clean of any inquisitive arrivals. I watched as Natalie’s body was unceremoniously dumped into the trunk of a sinister black wheeler. The corpses of the men struck down by Natalie’s rampage littered the grounds and steps of the house. The rest of the crew took care of those as well.
Moe followed my gaze. “Hell of a business.”
“Yeah.” I took another swallow of the hard juice.
“Ugly. Didn’t like it. But it had to be done.”
“Yeah.” I took another swallow of the hard juice.
“She ever say what she wanted? What her endgame was?”
I looked down. Blood spattered from my fingertips and pants leg, mixing freely with the pouring rain. “She wanted me to bring a dead man back to life.” I passed the flask back to him.
He took a swallow. “The Luzzatti girl. You let her go?”
“She let me go.”
“That’s good, Mick. It’s better that way.”
I lit a gasper. “Yeah.”
He gave me critical glance. “You sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah.”
“Not exactly articulate right now, are you?”
I gritted my teeth. “Hurts to talk.”
He did me no favors when he clapped me on the back. “All right. Get sewed up, Mick. I gotta check on Benny and Electra.”
“Give ‘em my regards.”
“I will.” He turned to go, then paused. “He’s changed, you know. Short time he’s been with you and he’s changed. You made a man out of him, Mick.”
“He was already a man. Just needed someone to believe in him.”
Moe gave a thoughtful nod. “I’ll try to remember that.” He paused again. “Let me offer you a piece of advice, Mick.”
“My ears are always open, Flacco.”
“It’s time for you to lay low. Take some time off. Things are getting a little too hot, even for this city. Capeesh?”
I exhaled a cloud of smoke. “I’ll do my best.”
The crowd of gleaming wheelers pulled off. Moe slid into the door of his personal stretch.
“Flacco.”
His window slid down.
“I’m sorry. For Sophia.”
Most of his face was shadowed, but grief still etched deep lines around his mouth. “You did what you could, Mick. Sometimes that’s all we can do. See you around. But not too soon.”
He pulled off, following the train of wheelers out of the neighborhood. I stood in the rain and watched until they were out of sight.
Then I collapsed.
I came to in a very familiar place. It was a six-by-eight concrete box with one side overlain with steel bars. I groaned as I sat up and massaged my temples. My body felt like it had been run over by a dump truck, which was an improvement over before. I fixed my bleary stare at the camera in the corner.
“This better be a joke, Flask.”
The cell door clicked and slid open. I got up and staggered out the cell and down the hallway. The bustle and commotion of the police department greeted me with force of a freight train between the eyes. Everyone did a great job of completely ignoring me as I blindly stumbled to Flask’s office.
He looked up from his console as I entered. His face looked about as weary as I felt. “Mick.”
“Flask.”
“You have to stop getting shot and passing out in the rain. It’s not doing your legendary reputation any good.”
“Tell me about it.” I dumped myself into the seat in front of his desk. “Thanks for picking me up.”
He shrugged. “Got a mysterious call from a lady who quoted some math calculations on how I needed to be at the location. You should have called me for backup, Mick. I had the medimech pull the lead out of you, but you could’ve died out there.”
“Had to handle it on my own.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t look like that went so well.”
“How’s Angel?”
His expression turned guarded. “Been better. She’s a bit miffed she missed out on the action. Said something about not needing to be treated like some china doll.”
“Women.”
“Yeah. So — it’s finally over?”
“Think so.”
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Well I guess you don’t need this forensics report, then. Thanks for wasting my time.”
I quite rubbing my temples long enough to look up. “What report?”
“You know — the one you asked for on that stiff in the Docks. The one with the cameras wired to his eyes.”
“Don’t ask.”
“Yeah, well like I said — guess you don’t need it now.”
“Shoot it to me anyway.”
I pulled it up on my holoband after he sent it. Wasn’t much to look at — just the standard DNA match of a person I’d never heard of. Cause of death was gunshot wound to the back of the head. I scanned the list of known associates.
“That’s odd. Most of his known associates are dead.”
Flask sighed. “Tell me about it. All the murders had previously been written off as standard New Haven happenstance. Now it looks like there’s an apparent serial killer on the loose. Just what I need right now.”
I continued to read the dossier. “One of these guys is listed as missing, not dead.”
“Yeah. Nelson Lucas. His disappearance is highly suspect. We’re assuming he’s dead. Just haven’t found the body yet.”
“Nelson.” I scratched the stubble on my chin. “Got a picture?”
“Gotta pull it. Here you go.”
When the visual pulled up I almost dismissed it. After all, the last time I’d seen Nelson was in a warehouse where he’d been beaten so badly he was nearly unrecognizable. But it was the same man who blew his brains out with the gun I handed to him.
Which made everything suddenly come together.
I shut my holoband down. “Well, looks like you’re right, Flask. Nothing to follow up here. Thanks again for the save. Be seeing you around.”
His eyes narrowed. “Mick.”
I paused in the act of standing up. “What?”
“You’re not fooling anybody. I know that look. You’re on to something. I want to know what it is.”
I made an exaggerated show of straightening out my tie. “Think about it, Flask. You know everything that just went down. All the murder, Mafia ties, and Secret Service interference. Do you really want to get tangled up in what this is?”
He stared at me for a long moment before dropping his head back to his console. “Nice seeing you, Mick.”
The office suite was high enough in the Uppers that the wall-length high rise windows displayed a marvelous view of the glimmering city. The suite itself was stark, barely furnished as though the occupant wanted the idea of a luxury suite without the actual luxury. The person behind the contemporary aluminum desk was immaculately dressed in a sienna grey checkered suit. His face was nothing like I’d last seen him. Instead of bland and mannequin-like, it was remarkably normal — a square-jawed, handsome face that granted a certain sophistication and imposing bearing he didn’t have before. His golden-brown hair was stylishly arranged with a perfect part on one side.