Sleight (36 page)

GETTING OUR CAPTIVES down to the ground floor took two trips. I watched as Kenwoode carried Sonja’s body to the edge of the pier and dropped her into the freezing waters. Danton looked at the sky as she sank from sight.

“I’ve got a problem with stuffing people in my trunk no matter what they did,” said Danton, obviously trying to forget what he’d just refused to witness.

We were standing by his SPD issue Crown Victoria. Weller and Griff, blindfolded and unconscious, lay on top of each other in the sedan’s trunk.

“The bald guy shot Justine. The woman
ordered
him to shoot
me
. They’re both dangerous on so many different levels that it’s crazy to think about letting them go,” I said. “We don’t have time to screw around Danton, we need to get Justine some help fast.”

Danton looked at me while Brock gently put Justine into the back seat of a big gray SUV.

“I wasn’t talking about letting them go Benny. But there’s a process. I’m here off the record which is a problem all by itself. I engaged people involved in criminal activity. Thank God I didn’t discharge my weapon again. So what’s the plan here?”

“I’m better suited to explain that Detective,” said Kenwoode as he closed the trunk lid.

Danton lit up another cigarette. “So go ahead and explain.”

It was strange seeing Kenwoode as his full blown knack-self, and hearing his monster voice coming out of that face.

“You can’t put these people in custody. They’ll escape. More importantly, they’ll inform another cell about us. When you agreed to be a part of our activity here in Seattle you were told that there would be extraordinary circumstances that would require you to adapt. This is such an instance,” he said.

Danton dropped his cigarette and crushed it with his shoe. “What about the others? The kid you said was as good as dead. Regardless, I need to get him some medical attention, for my conscience if nothing else. The girl that can fly? Other than as an accessory to or a misdemeanor assault charge, I have no reason to hold her.”

“Detective, we will transport all of them to Harald. He’ll be able to erase their memory of these events, and any knowledge about their own supernatural differences. That not only protects us but it also protects countless innocents they might hurt if left to their own devices,” said Kenwoode. “The damaged young man I will dispose of with your permission.” Seeing Danton’s reaction to the word ‘dispose’ he added, “I’ll leave the boy near a hospital.”

Cracking his neck, Danton scowled. “Benny, I know you better than anyone else in this sideshow. Tell me you think this is legit.”

I shrugged. “Danton, all I can tell you is...I trust these people.” Not one hundred percent true but I reasoned that a little hedging was not dishonest. My bias against Kenwoode’s motivation didn’t really figure into Danton’s question.

“Alright. We cart the whole lot over to Goodturn? He wipes their memories? We dump them on the street? We leave
them
in front of a hospital? Have you thought this through?” asked Danton, looking over at Brock, who had just finished loading Ethan and Brin into the SUV.

Brock shut the rear gate of the SUV. “We’re improvising. There’s no hard and fast plan. But yeah, we drop them off somewhere. Different locations, so that they’re split up, random.”

Danton looked at Kenwoode for confirmation. He nodded.

Shaking his head, Danton pulled his keys from a pocket. “Deeper and deeper. Fine. I’ll follow you.” He got into his car, with Kenwoode folding himself into the passenger seat. There was a bizarre image for passersby. It was a good thing it was dark. I could just imagine the looks they would get if anyone noticed the giant freak riding shotgun.

I rode in the backseat of the SUV with Justine while Brock drove. Brin, and Ethan were in the rear payload area. It didn’t look comfortable and I can’t say that it bothered me. Ethan was beyond caring, and Brin had been ready to bash my skull in when Brock had decked her.

With Justine lying down, her head in my lap, Brock drove as quickly as he could without jostling her too much.

“How did you find us?” I asked.

Looking out the windshield without glancing back at me he shook his head and grunted.

“I’ll tell you. But I don’t like talking about my aberrations. Understood?” he said

I nodded.

Gripping the steering wheel he blew out a breath and said, “I’ve got two. The one I used is an ability to sense trouble. It isn’t strong but I can pick up a sort of vibration if there’s violence being committed or getting ready to taking place close by. Has to do with picking up on the emotions that are associated with violence. That got us to the building you were in. We saw some girl in a costume leave. Then you all came pouring out into the alley. We lost you because you weren’t visible so we followed Sawyer and his group. They had a tail that we had to neutralize. When we figured out that you weren’t with them we doubled back. There were two more goons following you. We took them out too.”

I remembered the noise we’d heard, and decided not to ask for details.

“We were backtracking when you reentered the underground. We saw you before you manifested your camouflage. Followed you back to the building. Then we waited.”

I looked down at Justine and watched until I could see her chest rise and fall. It didn’t look normal. The beginning of a headache tapped away at my skull.

“Why did you guys wait so long to intervene?”

Brock let out another sigh of frustration. “Since you guys left the door open to the alley we thought we had a good read on what was happening. The gunshot surprised us.”

I nodded, “Yeah, I caused that, and then things went bad.”

He swore. He didn’t make an effort to keep the conversation going, obviously okay with riding in silence.

When we arrived at Mr. Goodturn’s we pulled into the garage behind the pawnshop. The heavy commercial grade rolling door was open, waiting for us. Bright fluorescent light spilled out onto the gravel that led to it.

The term ‘garage’ really didn’t do the room justice. It was pristine: an epoxy finished floor, metal storage cabinets along two walls and room enough for half a dozen cars. A forty foot long workbench ran across the wall at the back. Tools of every possible description hung on the wall above the work surface. Each tool grouped by type with a small label above each one.

Mr. G’s old land yacht from Detroit, Danton’s car and the massive SUV didn’t even fill half the space.

Mr. Goodturn and Constance were waiting for us. Constance and I took Justine upstairs where Constance worked on her while I white-knuckled it. I was too worried about Justine to question what Constance’s use of her knack was costing her.

“She’s already healed a lot of the damage. She’s lucky the bullet passed through without hitting any bone or organs. She’s lost a lot of blood, but her gift will get her stable. Now you need to leave me alone so I can concentrate.”

I reluctantly went back down to the garage.

When I arrived Weller was sitting on a folding chair, her arms and legs bound with duct tape. She was still blindfolded. Kenwoode and Mr. G were talking to her while Brock stood behind her. Griff and Brin were sprawled on the floor close by, blindfolded. Danton looked on with his arms folded.

“You need to reconsider your thinking,” Weller said. “I know people in this town who can make things very difficult for you.”

Danton looked like I felt. Beat. Mr. Goodturn nodded at me as I approached and then turned back to Weller.

“We think you’re the one who will need to reorient, Irena. Yes, we know your name. We’re going to remove your blindfold. Any attempt to manifest your knack will be met with immediate action that won’t be pleasant for you, something I would like to avoid if possible. Do you understand?”

She didn’t respond immediately. Then her head dipped.

“I think I would prefer hearing you say it if you don’t mind,” said Mr. Goodturn.

“Is that really necessary, or is it just for show?” she asked snidely. When he didn’t say anything she sighed. “Yes, I understand.”

Walking over to her chair, his short-legged gait and stature looking toy-like, he placed a hand on her arm and nodded to Brock. Grabbing the blindfold, Brock roughly pulled it free.

Eyes squinting in the bright fluorescent light she looked around. Then she saw Mr. G and her entire disposition changed.

Her eyes opened wide and she tried to shrink away from his hand.

“I see my reputation has preceded me. I promise I’ll be brief, but that really depends on how cooperative you are,” he said softly.

She shook her head vigorously and strained against the tape holding her arms. Brock put a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m not who you’re looking for. I can’t hurt you. Let me go and you’ll never have to worry about me again. I’ll leave the city,” she said. Her chin wrinkled, her lips were trembling.

My arms broke out in gooseflesh. She was terrified and her fear was directly associated with Mr. Goodturn. Sawyer’s stories about The Mad Dwarf and her use of that name, like talking about the Boogey Man, made me wonder what Mr. Goodturn had done that could scare someone so badly. Brock shifted his feet nervously while Kenwoode focused intently on her. I snuck a glance at Danton. His mouth was tight.

Mr. Goodturn said, “Who is your contact? Let’s start with that please.”

“I can’t tell you that. He’ll kill me,” she said, her voice quavering.

Closing his eyes and nodding Mr. Goodturn said, “If you won’t cooperate I will have to make this very short.”

“No, no you don’t. Just let me go,” she pleaded.

It was making me feel queasy seeing her come unwound in front of Mr. Goodturn. I thought back to the conversation Kenwoode and I had shared a week ago. Mr. Goodturn’s centuries old history and the comments about his battle with Shades on the east coast chattered in the back of my mind. I couldn’t bring myself to feel any sympathy for her though. She hadn’t been worried about Justine’s health when she’d been shot and then had used her cold knack to threaten her life. She hadn’t been concerned for me either when she told Griff to shoot
me
.

Mr. Goodturn gave her a rueful smile. “My dear lady, if you don’t share it with us someone else will. Perhaps one of your cohorts, perhaps the gang member you attempted to conscript into your service. You will be blamed for their indiscretions as well.”

She was visibly shaken. “Please. I’m the only one in my pod who knows his name. He’ll know it came from me.”

Mr. Goodturn stepped to her side quickly, touching her neck. Her shaking calmed, I could still see her breathing, but her eyes bulged in their sockets.

Whispering to her, his eyes locked on hers the trembling stopped, and her eyes became droopy. We all watched while Mr. Goodturn continued working over her. It went on for quite a while and I started thinking about the girl upstairs that was in bad shape because of me. My head was fuzzy from the lack of sleep and the high stress we’d been under.

Finally Weller’s head dropped to her chest and Mr. Goodturn stepped back.

“She won’t be creating any more trouble for us,” he said.

“Is she going to be all right?” Danton asked. “Physically I mean.”

Mr. Goodturn bobbed his head. “Quite. She won’t remember tonight and she won’t have any memory of her knack either. All of her associations with the Shade network, those I could detect, are gone as well.”

Danton shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Brock placed the blindfold back over her eyes. “What about them?” he asked, chucking his chin at the two other blindfolded Shades. I noticed Griff testing his restraints.

Mr. Goodturn frowned. “The same for both of them. As to Sonja, I’m grateful for your...handling of her Preston.”

“I understand Harald,” said Kenwoode. “It was the least I could do for you.”

Shoulders sagging Mr. Goodturn hung his head. With his eyes closed he said, “Thank you for that.”

“It doesn’t even come close to repaying what I owe you. What we all owe you,” Kenwoode said hoarsely.

A year ago I had struggled with the moral implications of doing away with Sonja. Their matter of fact discussion of her passing was surreal. I’d lived in fear of her for years. In the past, not knowing the full extent of Sonja’s mental state and the threat she represented I would have felt conflicted about their playing God. Having seen firsthand what she had done to Ethan, and the fact that her hunger could still rule her even when her mind was gone I couldn’t regret her death. She’d been a monster even if she hadn’t started her life that way. But my lack of remorse bothered me. I felt another piece of my moral code getting chipped away.

Mr. Goodturn glanced at me, a small frown the only thing that communicated his grief. I figured he’d had decades to come to terms with the inevitability of where Sonja’s appetites had led her.