Dane Curse (17 page)

Chapter 32

I bolted from Mrs. Freeman’s place, letting her know that I’d be in contact. I took the steps down, opened the door, and saw Jane right where I left her. Then I got a bad feeling, and froze in place. I leaned out. Five SPEC Agents flew overhead in a V formation with Pixius, the world’s handsomest hero, at their head. A handful of dames were on the other side of the block. They were looking up with me, but none of them made a sound.

Once the flying force passed by I hopped into my car, and called Widow on the comms.

“Hey Dane, how’d it go?”

“Fine, did anyone call?”

“Nope.”

Patience isn’t something I value, or naturally possess, and I didn’t like not knowing where Lynx was. Maybe she was snooping. Maybe she was meeting with the Sindicate Board. Or maybe she was with most holy death. “Great. Now do me a favor and go into my filing cabinet. Look up Mindgame, and read me his last known address.”

Widow didn’t answer right away. In fact, I would’ve checked if she was still there, but I could hear her breathing. Finally she said, “Excuse me?”

“Relax, it’s not-”

“Not what? The dumbest idea you’ve ever had? I ask you to keep your head down, and you want to swing by the one place every SPEC in the city’s looking for? Why precisely? You want to see if Impenetron’s brunch is as good as the Michelin guide says?”

“Knock that noise. It’s for Mrs. Freeman.”

“Oh Really?”

“Yes really. Now get me that address or I’ll swing by and do it myself.”

“Fine, but I want to go on the record as to how dumb this is.”

“Widow...”

“Yeah yeah, give me a second.” She read me Mindgame’s address along with another warning. I took it in stride. There was an excellent chance I’d be there and gone way before any lawmen showed up. Plus it might give me the opportunity to rule out his involvement in Pinnacle’s murder. I would handle two leads at once, a rare luxury.

Traffic was light, and I made it to Mindgame’s without incident. I parked, and took the steps down to the basement unit. His lock was extremely simple to pick, and when I walked into his pad I could see why. The single room efficiency was run down and cheap. The floor was covered in dust, and dirty dishes were stacked in the sink. The only two windows in the apartment were high up and caked with so much muck I could barely see the pedestrians’ feet as they walked by.

The place screamed long vacated.

I turned to go, but noticed a clean swath of wall. I walked over to it, and pulled out my hand scanner. When I read the display I smiled. The whole thing was hollow. Mindgame may be smart as a whip, but his place didn’t have the same level of protection Pinnacle’s did, and it took less than a minute to find the trigger for his secret door. It slid out of the way silently, and I walked in slow, letting Rico lead the way.

The room was bright, very clean, and vast enough to extend under half the block. I moved past a dozen rows of shining machinery, and while what I saw wasn’t nearly as impressive as the goodies at Professor Varius’s, they weren’t half bad either. When I got to the back wall I ran into a collection of video monitors, stacked five by five, each showing different scenes from inside the lab and outside the building.

Sitting in front of them, slumped over the desk, was Mindgame.

“Wake up, bright boy. I got some questions for you,” I said.

He didn’t move.

“Hey, Popular Pete, rise and shine.” I grabbed the nearest piece of scrap, and tossed it at him. The hunk of metal hit his back, and fell to the ground, but he still didn’t move.

That wasn’t right.

Keeping Rico steady, I walked closer and nudged him with my free hand. His flesh was too firm, too cold. Holstering my pistol I circled around and looked at his face. Mindgame’s eyes were unblinking and glazed over. His mouth was wide open. Grabbing a handful of hair I pulled his head up and checked his noggin. It was undamaged. I gave the rest of his body a thorough once over, but there were no bullet holes, no puncture wounds, and no bloodstains.

I didn’t care he was cadaverous, but I was interested in who killed him and how he died, so I searched his jacket and pants pockets, then pulled off both shoes to see if he had anything hidden. My search provided no answers. So I turned my attention to the room, starting with the desk. The only things there were schematics. They were technical and too complex for me, but they were also soaked and smeared illegible by an overturned cup of coffee so I let them be, and took a loop around the lab. About halfway through my search I ran into a wall safe. It was open, and empty except for one thing: a broken Kapowitzer. With a smile I shoved it in my pocket, then finished up the search, but there was nothing else amiss as far as I could tell.

And then I realized, 
the monitors
.

Mindgame’s last moments would be recorded on them, along with who had killed him. I ran back to where they hung, and looked for the drive that kept the data, but there was nothing. To find it I’d have to follow the cords, and since the screens were set into the wall I’d need to rip them out.

Oh well, not like Mindgame’ll care.

I punched through the wall to the right of the console. A few seconds of feeling around and I had a handful of wires. I was about to rip them out when I saw, on the middle screen, two SPEC Agents standing right outside the apartment.

They pounded on the door. I heard the knocking behind me. If they caught me here, with stolen property in one hand and a dead man in the other, I was cooked. I dropped the wires and ran back into the apartment proper. The only way out was straight through the shining boys on the other side of the door.

They knocked a second time, then jiggled the knob. “Mr. Mull, are you in there?” the voice outside said. “We represent the Special Powers Extraction Commission. We are entering your domicile.”

I looked around. The windows that led to the street were too small. So was the cupboard under the sink. But there was a large chair in the center of the room. It was just big enough to hide behind. I dove for it, and hunkered down as the door exploded off its hinges.

The duo leapt into the room. “Mr. Mull, identify yourself if you are on the premises,” one of them said. “Cress, weapons hot.”

I heard the unmistakable sound of a hand cannon powering up. “Weapons hot, sir.”

“Begin the search.”

I pulled Rico out. His hammer was already cocked.

“How about we start there.”

“Holy crap.”

The Agent’s footfalls got quieter. I waited a few seconds, then peeked over the chair. The lawmen were in the lab. I was alone. Ever so quietly I tiptoed through the open door, up the stairs, and out of the building.

#

When I got to the office Widow greeted me with a “How did it go?”

I pulled out the busted Kapowitzer, and held it up. “Better than alright.”

“Thank God, I’ve been worried sick. Monday called. He wants to meet at Eggs Am in one hour.”

“Did you tell him I’ll be there?”

“Yes I did.”

“Outstanding.” I retired to the back office and called Lynx again. And again there was no answer. I tried to stay calm. She was probably just keeping a low profile, and would contact me when she had something. At least that’s what I told myself. In the meantime I’d talk to Monday, see what he knew about Mindgame and the anonymous informant.

And once that’s out of the way maybe I’d enlist his help in taking down the most powerful black cape alive.

Chapter 33

While I waited for my appointment with Monday I exchanged my suit and shirt with one of the spares I keep in the office. As I slipped on my tie the outer door flung open, and a large outline of a man burst into the office and rushed past Widow.

The SPEC alarm on my wall lit up bright red.

I ran to the door and threw it open. A pair of silver hands snatched my lapels. They belonged to an Agent. He pulled me in close so that all I could see was my reflection in his faceplate. I grabbed his wrists, then spun him onto the couch. With my left I pinned both his hands down, and raised my right up high like a wrecking ball.

“Stop!” It was Widow. The pistol she held was hanging at her side. The other three hands were pointing at the Agent.

I turned back to the lawman and read his badge. “What’s the big idea Monday, you feeling suicidal?”

Monday jumped off the couch and into my personal space. He pressed the release switch on the side of his helmet, and the faceplate flicked up revealing a pair of angry cop eyes, colored Swedish blue. “Tell me you aren’t involved in this.”

“With what? What’re you babbling about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” He pointed a finger in my face. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“Wish I did, sheriff, but you’re making less sense than a busted cash register.”

Monday stared into my eyes. “Dane, shoot me straight. Are you involved in Pinnacle’s death?”

“How could you know that?”

“You are? How could you-” He grabbed my lapels again.

And again I pushed them away. “Paws off the merchandise, grabby. Now shut up and sit down. In that order.” I motioned to the couch. Monday looked at it, then at me, and to his credit he sat. “Now listen, here’s…” I turned around. “Widow. Sorry, you mind closing that?”

She surveyed the scene. “You sure, boss?”

I nodded, and she closed the door. Then I turned back to Monday. “I didn’t kill Pinnacle, genius. I’m investigating his murder. Been on the case for a couple of days now.”

“What? You’ve known for a couple of days? I was here a couple of days ago… ugh, the collar.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know what? Just tell me everything.”

Monday’s a pal, and an honest one at that, so I did, with a focus on who and the why, but I left out the Kaos and the Bleach. He listened, and I watched his cop mind working it all over.

When I finished he said, “But if Lynchpin’s behind it then why hire you?”

“That’s a good question. Another one is why couldn’t this wait? Aren’t we meeting at Eggs Am?”

“There’s no way I’d be seen with you.”

“Why’s that?”

“You don’t know.” He sighed, and shook his head. “Because you’re the Commission’s new number one suspect. They think you killed Pinnacle.”

They say when your blood drops below a certain temperature it can kill you, and far be it for me to question years of medical wisdom, but I wasn’t so sure. After all, what Monday just told me froze my veins solid, and I was still upright. “What? Me? Why?”

Monday leaned forward. “Well let me ask you this: did you do anything interesting this morning?”

“No. I solved a case for a very sweet old…” I felt my face slide an inch closer to the floor. “The monitors.”

“Uh huh.” Monday nodded. “We got you on tape at a murder scene, breaking in and stealing evidence. A pistol from the looks of it.”

“What?” 
That was bad. Real bad. But,
 “Shouldn’t there be tape on the actual kill?”

“There’s not a single black cape who would record everything they did, though I wish they would. No, the tapes run on an eight hour loop before they reset and start recording over what’s already there.”

“Damn it. So you guys just have him lying there dead for a while, then me coming in and tossing the place right before I sneak out with a pistol.”

“That’s correct, and the theory is that pistol is the one that killed Pinnacle,” Monday said. “What were you doing there anyway?”

“It was a busted Kapowitzer. Mindgame stole it, and I was picking it up for the owner.” I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and took a long pull from it. “So they got a shot of my face now?”

“Negative pal. Thanks to your hat. And the angle of the cameras.”

“They didn’t get my grill? Then how’d you know to come here?”

“Because you got a certain way about you, and because I’m me. But don’t go getting all candy and roses just yet. We got your prints. And a general description.”

“Damn it. But they didn’t put it together with my name, so I’m still clean so long as I don’t get picked up on something else.”

“That’s correct,” Monday said, “and the fact that we found the schematics for the other murder weapon might take some of the heat off you.”

“The ones on the desk? Those things were destroyed, how can you-”

“They weren’t in great shape, but our tech’s best guess is they’re for an advanced nullifier. Something capable of working on Pinnacle.”

“So your prevailing theory is that Mindgame used it on Pinnacle, then gut shot him with a pistol I snatched?”

“No, they think it was the both of you. Working together. Or maybe you hired him. At least that’s what Humphries is telling the team.”

“And pretty soon the press…” I took another pull off the bottle. “But wait, if that really was the case then why was Pinnacle found in street clothes? And where are the burn marks on the body? Or the bullet and its casing? Your guys went over that room, what actual evidence do you have to support Humphries’ theory?”

Monday’s eyes darted back and forth. His mouth opened then closed without making a sound. “I didn’t… how could you-”

“And another thing, how did your boys find Mindgame’s digs so fast? I had his address. Was this another anonymous call to the Team Supreme tip line?”

“No idea.”

I paced the room twice. It helped me think. And I came to only one conclusion. “Lynchpin’s behind it, and I can guess why. Mindgame’s a patsy.”

“A patsy?”

“You’re familiar with the term?”

“I am.”

“Good, that’ll save me some time. I think from the very beginning Lynchpin planned on feeding you Mindgame to cover himself. Probably offered the kid a promotion within the Sindicate to keep him close, then whacked him and left his corpse next to some illegible nullifier schematics knowing that Humphries would be more than happy to swallow it all, and take credit for solving the crime of the century.”

I let Monday decide for himself whether what I was telling him had more weight than what he was hearing from his boss. After he finished with the scales he said, “I think you’re right, that evidence doesn’t add up. And there wasn’t a mark on Mindgame’s body so I guess Lynchpin could’ve used his TK to stop the kid’s heart without leaving any evidence,” Monday said. “And sure, Humphries wants this solved on the double, but is it even possible? To build a nullifier that powerful?”

“No, Mindgame’s not bright enough on his own.” I could almost feel the heat from the light bulb over my head. “Which is why you’ll be hearing that he took some Black Bleach.”

“What?” Monday’s eyes nearly jumped to their doom. “Black Bleach? That stuff’s not around anymore.”

“Yes it is. If you know where to find it. And I bet your anonymous source does. I’ll bet that in a few days he’ll tell you the exact location of a chemical plant that has a hundred vials full of the stuff, and what do you know? There’s one missing. Then Humphries will claim that Mindgame was the one who took it, which not only explains how he could build the impossible, missing nullifier, but also how he died, and nobody will say a thing to the contrary because who doesn’t want this case solved? But that means Lynchpin will get away with murder, and I can’t let that happen.”

“Then how do we stop it?”

“First, we’ll need to prove there’s no Bleach in Mindgame’s body.”

“There’ll be an autopsy.”

“They won’t test for Bleach, though. You have to make sure they do.”

“I can do that.” He stood up. “But that still doesn’t answer how Pinnacle was killed. What do you know about that?”

“I got a vague impression.”

“Want to share it?”

“Not yet. First find out about that tox report. Then check into who your anonymous source is. Once we’ve got that I’ll spill what I know about the murder weapons, and we’ll deal with Lynchpin together.” I showed Monday to the front door.

“I’ll get back to you tonight. And sorry about the entrance Widow,” Monday said as he walked by her desk. “As for you, and I’m saying this in front of our lady here, despite your intact anonymity stay put. The Commission is tearing the city apart looking for you, so keep your head down, and don’t go out.”

“Okay,” I said, and opened the door for him. “Shalom.”

I went to my office to watch Monday walk out of the building and take flight.

“So what was all that about?” Widow was in the doorway with all four hands on her hips.

“They got tape of me at Mindgame’s, though they can’t place me there. Except…”

Widow looked at me. “Except what?”

“Except one person can.” I fetched the Kapowitzer, and handed it to Widow. “Here. I want this gone. You know the address, take it to her, and tell her the job’s on the house. Tell her I owed Agent Dreadful a debt from way back and we won’t accept payment.”

Widow took the gun, and we walked to the front door. “Is that true?”

“Who cares? Just tell her. And remind her that possessing this piece is illegal, and that she should ignore anything she sees on the news about Mindgame. If anyone finds out that the guy suspected of killing Pinnacle was in possession of her property then the SPECs will no doubt arrest her before coming straight here.”

“Right.” Widow nodded. “I got it.”

“Make sure she got it, too. Then head home. I want you as far away from me as possible. At least for tonight.”

“Will do. In the meantime, and I hate asking, are you planning on going out?”

I shrugged. I didn’t see why I would. The sun was still high in the sky, and I really had nowhere to go. Besides, I was expecting some phone calls. “Don’t plan on it.”

“That’s what I thought.” Widow reached into her top drawer and held out something.

“What’s that?”

“What’s it look like?”

I took it and smiled. “My old mask. I haven’t worn this in ages.” It wasn’t made from Wonder Weave, and didn’t cover my whole face, but it could protect my identity from regular pictures, the human eye, and facial recognition software since it distorted the key points used for matching.

“Yeah, well when you told me about this case I went over to storage and grabbed it. Figured it might come in handy.” Her brown eyes looked stern, but she sounded caring. “If you go out, like you say you won’t, bring that with you.”

“Can do.” I turned around and walked back to my office with my mask in hand.

“Dane.”

I stopped. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you put it in your pocket right now?”

I called Lynx again after Widow left, and didn’t get an answer. So I poured myself a shot. Then another. And since the first two didn’t put a dent in my worry I had a third. Me involved in Pinnacle’s death, tied up with a guy like Mindgame… sometimes I think that the SPECs couldn’t find dark at night.

It wasn’t surprising they’d want this wrapped up as quickly as possible though. With Pinnacle’s killer in the ground the people of Gold Coast would sleep soundly knowing justice had been served, and Humphries would get his shiny new nation-wide organization. Who cares if they got a patsy while the real murderer’s still walking around free?

Me actually, I do.