Poison City (27 page)

I look out the back window. One of the attackers is back in the street, his rifle aimed at us. I fire a couple more shots at him and he dives to the side.

I flop down in the seat, my heart hammering brutally in my chest.

So who the hell were they? Who the hell have we pissed off now?

When we get back to Division I phone a contact in the Albert Park police station. I tell him Armitage and I were attacked while pursuing inquiries and that if they hadn’t already, they should head out to clear the body and debris.

He tells me they’d already had a call out for gunfire. Major damage to shops and cars, but no bodies.

Armitage and I decide to sleep at the Division. There’s no telling how much our attackers know about us so we can’t risk going home.

I wonder briefly if our attackers tonight are linked to Lilith, but I dismiss the thought. It didn’t seem like Kincaid’s style. He would have just sent another pack of biters after me.

No, this was someone else who wants us dead.

Chapter 13

At nine o’ clock the next morning I take my coffee and stumble into our operations room on the eighth floor. The whiteboard wall is filling up with photographs. The ramanga, the kraal where he was killed, Armitage’s body, her lounge, the killer’s face.

Down one side of the board are notes written in Parker’s neat handwriting. Red lines drawn between the photographs detail definite connections, while blue lines denote possible connections we haven’t managed to confirm yet.

Parker is already here, adding the photographs of the second sin-eater from the Oyster Box Hotel. I sit down and yawn as Armitage strolls in and glances at the board.

‘Bloody hell, people. A little empathy wouldn’t go amiss. Do I have to be on the board?’

‘You’re part of the case,’ Parker points out.

‘Well . . . cover my face or something, will you? I don’t want to stare into my own dead eyes first thing in the morning.’

‘I suppose you got enough of that looking in the mirror when you were alive,’ I say.

Armitage throws a whiteboard marker at me. I dodge but I’m not quick enough. It hits me in the ear.

She’s not upset, though. Armitage is old school. Laughter is the best medicine. Stiff upper lip. Grimace painfully and carry on, that kind of thing. I’m just doing my bit to stop her dwelling on everything. It’s a public service, really.

She approaches the board, scans it quickly, then turns to me. ‘Our attackers last night. Human?’

I nod. ‘There’s blood at the scene. Definitely human.’

Parker frowns. ‘What attack is this?’

I quickly tell her everything that happened yesterday, ending with our night-time ambush.

‘They sound like pros,’ she says.

‘They were. It was a hit squad.’

‘We don’t know that,’ snaps Armitage.

‘Of course it was. How else do you explain it? Mistaken identity?’

Armitage sighs, a habit more than anything else. It’s not as if she needs air. She waves at the board.

‘OK, fine. But let’s put a pin in the mysterious assassins for now. Let’s go back to the beginning. Start with the ramanga. Our dead sin-eater. Talk to me as if I don’t have a clue what’s going on.’ She points at me without even looking. ‘And no smart arse comments.’

‘We think he was new,’ I say. ‘Going on what the fae told us, he must have recently followed on from his own teacher. Master. Whatever they call it. Else he wouldn’t still be a local ramanga. He’d be living it up somewhere else.’

‘They don’t inherit anything from their master? Belongings?’ asks Parker.

‘No. I reckon this . . . corporation or whatever it is takes everything. The sin-eaters get to enjoy the money while they’re alive, but after that it’s sucked into the company coffers.’

Armitage nods thoughtfully. ‘Follow that up with the second victim’s records. Check her will, her bank statements that kind of thing. Where’s her laptop?’

Parker nods at the table up against the wall. A new MacBook Air and a cell phone sit there.

‘Good. What else do we know about her?’

‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘That’s on the agenda for this morning.’

‘Get on it. Search for any links between her and the ramanga. Maybe we can use them to trace more of these sin-eaters. If there
are
more, they’re in danger from Lilith and her attack dog.’ She’s silent for a while, then makes a tutting sound. ‘All this stuff about the first sin – I don’t like it. It stinks of religion.’

‘Which one?’

‘Lucifer. God. All that stuff. Wasn’t Lucifer the first being to sin? Pride, wasn’t it? That’s what’s supposed to have kicked the whole thing off.’

‘What – you think that’s what Lilith is after?’

‘You tell me.’

‘That doesn’t make any sense,’ I say. ‘Even if the sin-eaters
have
been around for that long – and we have no way of verifying that – what could they do with Lucifer’s pride? And it’s not as if a sin-eater took his sins from him anyway. He’s still reigning down below, isn’t he?’

Armitage shrugs. ‘No idea. That’s Level ultra-alpha-tip-top-super-duper-secret security clearance. They don’t let the likes of me into those files.’

‘Don’t forget that archangel you both saw,’ says Parker. ‘He’s involved somehow. That kind of implies it’s a Christian thing.’

‘Or Jewish,’ said Armitage. ‘They have angels too. So does Buddhism, Islam, and Hinduism.’

‘Yeah, but he said he was Michael, remember?’ I say.

‘Good point,’ says Armitage. She claps her hands together. ‘Righto. I see we’ve got a busy day ahead of us. I’m going to have a chat with Jaeger to see if she can do something about this hole in my chest. Her stitching’s come loose.’

Armitage pulls her shirt open to reveal the wound. Parker and I both cry out in protest and turn our heads away.

‘Oh, that’s very nice, that is,’ says Armitage. ‘And just how do you think that makes me feel, eh? Just be thankful Parker’s spell stops me decaying. Then you’d all be in the shit.’

She storms off in a huff, buttoning up her shirt as she goes.

I sigh and grab Long’s laptop while Parker focuses on the cell phone, plugging it into her own PC so she can clone the entire system before fiddling around with it.

I boot up the computer. No password. Very careless. There’s a photograph as a desktop wallpaper. The victim and two kids. I swing the laptop around to show Parker.

‘Has anyone notified next of kin?’

‘Don’t think so.’

I swivel the computer back. I’m not doing it. I hate breaking that kind of news to anyone. It brings everything back. Becca’s face when I told her about Cally. The way her features just seemed to . . . collapse with grief. I tried to hold her, but she wouldn’t let me. I could see it in her face. The blame.
Why couldn’t you save her? Your own daughter. What good are you to anyone if you can’t even protect your family?

I frown and shake my head, loading up the computer’s calendar. Lots and lots of bookings. She was a busy girl, our Caitlyn Long. Only problem is, all the appointments are marked with just the initials.

I check yesterday’s date, when she arrived in Durban. Nothing there. But there
is
an entry for tonight at eight o’clock, Marked with the initials, MD.

I check through her emails, but there’s nothing of interest. Certainly nothing from someone with the initials MD. Family stuff. Friends getting in touch, that kind of thing. Her internet history is just as boring. Hollywood gossip sites, Facebook (logged out, can’t access it), local news sites.

No smoking gun. No emails from the head of this mysterious corporation detailing who they are and where they’re based. Typical.

‘Here’s something,’ says Parker.

I look up.

‘SMS messages,’ says Parker. ‘The first came through Wednesday night. “Can you come to me Friday?” Her response, “Why? Will see you Sat.” Next SMS, “Need you sooner. Have a feeling I might be a naughty boy.” Her response. “Double the last price.” Then he texts back, “Not a problem. See you Friday night.” ’

‘No name?’

‘Just a number.’

‘You think whoever this person is wanted her services as a sin-eater?’ I ask.

‘Either that or she’s a hooker on the side.’

-Hey, London.-

I look around but can’t see the dog anywhere.

-What’s up?-

-You’ve got some problems down here, man. Serious ones.-

-What problems?-

-I think you’re about to get arrested for murder.-

I blink. That wasn’t something I expected to hear.

-Where are you?-

-Under your desk. I wouldn’t come down here, though. Not unless you want to get taken in by the SSA.-

SSA? The State Security Agency? Those guys are our answer to the CIA and MI6. What the hell are they doing here?

I hurry to the door and open it a crack. Look both ways. Nothing. I can hear shouting from the main office on the ground floor. I move forward and peer over the balcony.

I see them straight away. Men in suits. Five of them. And one, the leader, arguing with Armitage. He looks familiar. Cold face. Lined. Experienced.

Their voices rise up towards me from where I’m watching a few floors above.

‘You and Tau will just have to go quietly,’ snaps Ranson. He’s standing next to the lead spook and looking like he’s enjoying every minute of this.

‘We have to do no such thing,’ snaps Armitage. ‘We’re both employees of the Crime Intelligence Division. Any problems you have need to be taken up with the Divisional Commissioner—’

‘–And a warrant issued in your names,’ finishes the SSA guy. ‘We know that.’ He hands over a folded piece of paper. Armitage snatches it from him and scans it, then looks at him in amazement.

‘Murder of State Security Agency personnel? What the hell are you talking about?’

And then I realize where I’ve seen the man before. Last night. The guys shooting at us. He was the one whose face I saw when he ripped off his night-vision goggles in the street. Shit. They were SSA?

‘Last night, you and your officer Gideon Tau interfered in an operation being conducted by the SSA. You both opened fire after I clearly identified myself, killing four of my men. I’m sure the ballistics retrieved from the scene will match one of your sidearms.’

‘Clearly identified yourself?’ Armitage steps forward until she’s right in his face. ‘You and your lapdogs attacked
us
. Without any warning. In fact, I’ll be laying charges against you!’

‘You’re more than welcome to do so. But in the meantime you and Tau need to come with us. Arrest her.’

One of his men steps forward and slaps a pair of cuffs on Armitage. While he’s doing this she looks involuntarily up at our floor. The SSA guy follows her gaze.

We lock eyes.

Oh, shit.

‘There!’ shouts the spook, pointing up at me. ‘Get him!’

I run back into the room. Parker sees my face.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Last night. I killed a few SSA agents. I’m wanted for murder.’

Parker doesn’t ask questions. Just unplugs Caitlyn’s phone and tosses it to me. I dart around my desk to the police computer I was working on. I quickly scroll to the SMS messages and log into the National Police Database, typing in the code for number retrievals.

It takes a while. Our computers are ancient. I think they still operate on some version of DOS software. Supposedly unhackable. Great for security, but really crap for me.

I glance at Parker while I’m waiting. ‘Get out of here. Stay by the phone. If I get out of here I’ll be in touch.’

She doesn’t hesitate, but heads straight for the door.

‘Not the elevator!’ I call out.

‘Got it!’ Her voice trails back into the room as she sprints off around the curve of the wall in the opposite direction, heading for the stairs on the far side of the silo.

I chew my lip while I wait for the computer to do its thing. The passing of RICA – the Regulation of Interception of Communications and Provision of Communication-Related Information Act – made our jobs a whole hell of a lot easier. Everyone who buys a cell phone nowadays has to register the number against their personal ID number. Sure, it’s easy enough to fake it – false documents, fake ID books, that kind of thing – but I’m hoping our mark didn’t feel the need to do any of that.

Jesus. This is taking too long. I dart out the room, lean out over the balcony. The elevator is only two floors down. I can see SSA guy staring up at me through the glass.

I run back into the room.

The information is waiting for me.

The guy who sent the SMS messages is Menzi Dumelo.

M.D.
The initials from Caitlyn Long’s calendar.

‘Got you.’

I memorize his address and sprint from the room. I run in the opposite direction from Parker, not wanting to draw them after her. This takes me right past the elevator. I hear it
bing
as I sprint past. The doors start to open and I duck inside the closest room, watching through a crack in the door as the SSA spooks burst out of the lift and run towards the operations room, weapons drawn.