Fine Blue Steele (Daggers & Steele Book 4) (13 page)

“What’re you thinking?” asked Steele.

“I’m thinking this case just got a lot more complicated,” I said. “Never mind Lanky’s disappearance. We now have two murders with the same M.O., and I’m struggling to understand how our GI friends from yesterday fit into all this.”

“Yeah,” said Shay. “Me, too.”

She reached out and rifled through his pockets. I fully expected her to come away empty handed, but upon checking his right coat pocket, Shay pulled out a shiny coin.

“Oh my gosh,” I said. “Looks like Burly here was holding out on his hobo buddies. He’s rich!”

“Not quite.”

Steele handed me the coin, which upon further inspection turned out not to be legal tender, but rather a token. On its face, a geometrically-designed vortex swirled around a perfect circle. I flipped the token over. The back was blank.

“You ever seen anything like this?” I asked.

My partner shook her head as she completed her search. “Can’t say I have. But any evidence is better than no evidence, right?”

I mumbled my agreement as I stood. “I suppose. Let’s see what our concerned citizens can add to this mess.”

I pocketed the coin and gave Shay a hand before turning to the witnesses, both of whom leaned against the side of the embroidery store. They held their arms folded across their chests as they talked in hushed voices.

“Gary and Norma?” I asked.

They nodded, and Gary responded. “That’s right.”

“I’m Detective Daggers, and this is Detective Steele,” I said. “We understand you were the first ones to come across the body?”

Gary bobbed his head again as he pushed a mop of hair across his face and over to the side. A flashy suit jacket draped over his shoulders, partially concealing a shirt with far too many unbuttoned buttons. Based on his haircut and almost complete lack of chest hair, I placed him in his early twenties.

His date/girlfriend/courtesan Norma, on the other hand, probably hadn’t even made it that far in life. She wore a diaphanous yellow dress under a heavy, knee-length overcoat, and her shoes were strictly of the flattering but impractical variety. Like the soldiers from twenty-four hours ago, both she and her boy toy reeked of alcohol.

“Yeah, yeah, man,” said Gary. “We ran into the guy. I did, really. But he wasn’t dead when we found him.”

“Says you,” said Norma. “That guy was dead as a doornail.”

“If he was dead, then how did he bump into me?” he asked.

“He didn’t,” said Norma. “You ran into
him
. And if he wasn’t dead already, then you killed him when you knocked him to the ground, you stupid gump.”

Gary’s eyes widened into saucers, and his hands turned into claws.
“Norma!
Shut up! You can’t joke about that kind of thing. These are cops!”

“Whatever.” The girl rolled her eyes.

Steele glanced at me with narrowed eyes before turning the suspicious peepers onto the young couple. “Why don’t you two explain exactly what happened? Start at the beginning.”

“Ok,” said Gary. “So, Norma and I, we went out for drinks. Stopped at the Crown and Rose first, but that place was lame. So we cut out of there. Then we heard about a party over at the Flapping Gander. You know, that new jazz club? And man, it was hoppin’. The drinks were wicked strong, and the bartenders were pouring them as fast as the nozzles would let ‘em. And the band? They had this crazy guy on the horn. Best trumpet player you ever heard, man. The music was flowing through me. I could feel it in my body, man. And—”

Shay jerked her thumb at Burly. “Why don’t we skip to the part where this guy entered the picture?”

“Oh. Right, right,” said Gary. “So anyway, Norma and I leave the club late. Real late. Like early morning late. And there’s this fog everywhere. Thick as soup. Can’t see a thing. So we start walking back to our place—”

Norma huffed. “Because
apparently
there aren’t any rickshaw drivers around these parts at six or seven or whatever it was. Told you we should’ve gone to the Pearl instead.”

“What?”
said Gary. “You can’t get jazz like that in the Pearl. With that kind of flow? That kind of soul? No way.”

“Guys, focus,” said Steele.

“Right,” said Gary. “So we’re walking along, looking for a rickshaw. But we can’t find one because of the fog. Can’t see anything ‘cause of the fog. And then this guy comes out of nowhere. Barrels into me and almost knocks me over, and—”

Norma rolled her eyes again.
“Please…”

“You remember things differently?” I asked.

The young lady—if, indeed, that word applied—flicked an idle hand. “Gary’s embellishing everything. He was drunk as a skunk. Couldn’t walk straight. Lost his balance and fell into the side of the building. ’Cept there was a guy standing there. That homeless man. Knocked him over.”

“I didn’t knock him over,” said Gary. “The guy bounced off me.”

“Alright,” said Steele. “So what happened after he fell or was knocked over?”

“Well,” said Gary. “I think I knocked the wind out of the guy, and—”

“Wait,” I said. “I thought he bumped into you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Gary. “Same difference. So he careens into me, losing his wind, and he grunts—”

“He did not grunt,” said Norma.

Gary tossed his hands in the air. “Is anybody going to let me finish this story?”

Norma ignored her beau and eyed Steele and me. “He didn’t grunt. Just fell over like a log.
Splat.”

“He
grunted,”
said Gary. “I heard him. Anyway, I bend over to help him. See if he’s ok, right?”

“Really?” I eyed the kid’s expensive jacket and considered how much money he must’ve blown on drinks through the course of the night.
“You
stopped to help a homeless guy?”

Gary tried his best to look offended. “Hey…what’s that supposed to mean?”

“He didn’t realize the guy was a hobo,” said Norma. “Couldn’t see in the fog.”

Steele rolled her hand in the air. “Can we wrap this up? Preferably before lunch.”

The tension in Gary’s jaw was a clear sign of his annoyance, but I couldn’t tell if it was due to our line of questioning or Norma’s constant undermining of his story.

“Yeah,” he said. “So I kneel down to help him. And that’s when I notice this glimmer. On his head. Like blood. And I think, holy crap, somebody must’ve mugged this poor bastard. And at that point, I start to freak out. I’m not even sure if the guy’s breathing any more. So Norma and I, we call out for help. Eventually find these two cops here and bring them back. But by that point the guy was dead.”

I glanced at Norma to see if she felt the need to contradict any of that last part. She shrugged in acquiescence.

“I’m assuming neither of you know who this is?” said Steele, pointing at Burly.

“No idea,” said Gary.

“Do you remember hearing any shouts or yells or screams before you stumbled across this man?” asked Steele.

Gary and Norma shook their heads.

“Did you see anyone suspicious either before or after the incident?” I asked. “Anyone carrying a weapon?”

Norma gave me a mocking glance. “How many times do we have to tell you it was foggy?”

“A simple
no
would suffice.” I dug the coin out of my pocket and showed the young couple the face. “This ring any bells in either of your belfries?”

“Belfries?” said Gary.

“What is that thing?” asked Norma, squinting as she gazed upon it.

“I’m guessing that’s another no,” said Steele.

Norma stifled a yawn. “So…like, can we go now?”

I pocketed the coin and held up a finger. “Just a moment.”

I pulled Steele back out of earshot. “So…what do you think?”

“About these two?” She glanced at Gary and Norma. “I don’t think they could be any more clueless if they tried.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I think they might be able to give Officer Peabody over there some competition for his title. So we’re in agreement they’re not involved in the murder?”

“Correct.”

“What about their stories?” I said. “Who do you believe?”

“Both. Neither?” said Steele. “It’s probably somewhere in the middle.”

I grunted in agreement and pursed my lips.

“Detectives Daggers? Steele?”

I turned to find the runner who’d burst into the precinct this morning tugging at the hem of my jacket.

“That’s us,” I said. “What’s new?”

“I’m relaying a message that arrived at the police station not long after you left,” said the kid. “An Agent Blue at the New Welwic Main army base has requested a meeting with you. He said it’s urgent.”

I snorted. “I rather doubt that. I’m not allowed to play over at his house anymore.”

The kid got the gist of my turn of phrase. “No. The other runner was very specific. He said Agent Blue requested to meet with Detectives Steele
and
Daggers. Right away.”

Steele raised her eyebrows at me. “Well?”

“Well, what?” I said.

“Can you maintain your composure if we go back?” she asked.

I took a deep breath and let it out through my nose. “I’ll manage. I promise.” And I’d have to, unless I wanted to risk alienating Shay again. I could do better than I had yesterday. I knew I could. “Besides, I’m curious to know what Blue has to say. I’m having a hard time believing his summons and Burly’s presence here are coincidental.”

Before we left, I engaged myself in a stern chat with Peabody and Carter. I made doubly sure they knew to deliver the fresh corpse directly to Cairny at the station, and to make sure she accepted the body before they left, otherwise they’d learn the origins of the phrase ‘holding one’s feet to the fire.’

I’d already lost one dead hobo. I didn’t plan on having it become a habit.

21

I repeated a mantra to myself as we walked to the army base.
Stay calm. Be polite. He’s not a threat.
And after some thought and reflection, both overnight and during the walk, I’d come to the realization that Agent Blue, in all honesty, probably wasn’t the monster I’d made him out to be.

Shay was right. He’d acted professionally in all our interactions, even if he had lavished my partner with a little more attention and good cheer than she otherwise deserved. While he
had
interfered in our investigation, he’d done so as a duty of his profession, and he hadn’t insulted me or belittled me or looked at me the way businessmen eye gum on the soles of their shoes. I, on the other hand, had behaved like a petulant child whose favorite toy had been taken away, screaming and crying and kicking my feet in the direction of anyone dumb enough to get within striking distance—even the people I cared about. That must’ve been what set Shay off…

I was a bigger man than that, even if I didn’t always show it. So what if Agent Blue had a fancy college degree and multiple commendations? So what if he wore a crisp uniform that accentuated the best portions of his lithe frame instead of a worn leather jacket that made him look like a walking sack of potatoes? So what if his elven ancestry had blessed him with immaculate features, a full crop of dark hair, and a smile that could make panties suddenly lose their elastic properties? Neither Shay nor the Captain had said I had to
like
the guy. I merely had to behave myself in a civil manner, and I could do that…so long as his advances toward Shay didn’t progress beyond the cordial.

He met us at the door to the MP building and ushered us into his office, his face more drawn than I remembered it. He pointed us toward his guest chairs as he took his own.

“Detectives,” he said. “Thank you for coming over on such short notice.”

A couple beads of sweat dotted his temples, which I initially took as a sign of anxiety but soon realized might’ve been environmental in origin. His office was
hot.
Whichever janitor or maintenance engineer whose job it was to stoke the building’s central fires must’ve fallen asleep on the bellows.

Shay took note of the unseasonable warmth, as well. She loosened and removed her scarf, setting it on the army sleuth’s desk as she took a seat. “Not a problem, Agent Blue. Detective Daggers was both awake and alert when we received your missive, which is a rarity at this time of morning.”

“And I’m on my best behavior.” I splayed open my jacket, hoping the extra air would help, as I showed the agent my crossed fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

Blue nodded, a
slight
amount of the tension draining from his face. But only a little. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“We would’ve arrived sooner,” continued Steele, “but another matter drew our attention. So what is it you wished to discuss, Agent Blue?”

The elf took a deep breath and sighed. “No point in beating around the bush, detectives. Privates Chavez and Delvesdeep are gone.”

I leaned forward in my chair reflexively.
“What?”

“They deserted?” asked Steele.

“How did that happen?” I asked. “Didn’t you have them locked up?”

Blue held up his hands to stem the tide of questions. “The pair were under supervision, but not under lock and key. Somehow they slipped their guard detail, or perhaps convinced them to look the other way for a few minutes.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Blue stopped me before I could. “Trust me. I’m as upset about this as you are. More, in all likelihood. Not only is it a poor reflection on me as the lead investigator in this inquiry, but it now adds a whole new pile of unsavory work onto my plate. I’ll have to examine if there was a breach in conduct that allowed the two privates to escape and determine who precisely was involved. And I can assure you, there
will
be consequences, regardless of whether my new investigation unearths any actual malice or merely rote incompetence. The important piece of information for you is that they’re gone. We suspect they deserted around an hour before dawn, give or take thirty minutes. And while such an action is far from a tacit admission of guilt in yesterday’s murder, it doesn’t look good.”

Shay turned to face me, tilting her head and lifting her eyebrows. Based on the blank look I responded with, I think she realized I had no clue what she meant.