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A Hard Rain Page 10


  Nothing.

  Only the sounds of their steps and the heavy silence of the city traveled with them to the building listed on Jessica Daniels’ bills. It looked like any of the other three-story buildings along the street, with concrete steps up to a wide entrance. Dix knew that her apartment was on the second floor. There were no lights in any of the windows.

  “We go in slow and carefully,” Dix said, indicating Mr. Data should lead.

  Gun in hand, Mr. Data started up, moving like a cat, slowly, cautiously.

  The front door of the building had a slight squeak that echoed down the street, and the wooden stairs just inside the second door creaked far too loudly under all their weight.

  They had no choice but to keep moving.

  The second floor landing was lit with a single, faint bulb hanging from a cord. The stairs going up to the third floor seemed to disappear into blackness.

  There were two wooden doors, Jessica’s on the right with the number 202 in brass.

  As quietly as he could, Dix unlocked the door with her key and then, indicating that Mr. Data and Bev should stand back, he swung the door open, staying out of the line of fire from anyone who might be inside.

  Silence and darkness greeted them.

  And perfume. A wave of it covered them, flowing out of the apartment like water released from a dam.

  Dix held his breath and remained still for a five count.

  Nothing.

  Mr. Data shook his head meaning that he could hear nothing inside.

  Dix nodded, then indicated he would go in first.

  Slowly, staying low, Dix eased through the door into the thick smell and felt for a switch on the wall. It was where it should be and the lights blinded him for a moment as he flipped them on with a sharp click.

  “Wow,” Bev said when it became clear there was no one inside, “she didn’t believe in straightening up.”

  “I think she had some help in making the mess,” Dix said, glancing around at the clutter that filled Jessica Daniels’ apartment.

  Someone had done a search just recently, and not a neat search. Jessica’s clothes were pulled out of the closet and scattered on the floor, her furniture, including a large couch and love seat, had been turned over, and her bed in a second open room had been pulled apart. The entire place reeked of her perfume, as if it had covered everything and the search had shaken it loose.

  “Whoever did this,” Bev said, “clearly thinks Jessica has something of value to hide.”

  “Maybe it’s the Heart, boss,” Data said.

  “Well, let’s look around,” Dix said, easing the apartment door closed. “Maybe they missed whatever it was they were searching for.”

  “Do you have to close the door?” Bev asked, waving a hand in front of her face. “We might die of perfume poisoning before we finish this.”

  He didn’t move to open the door.

  “A window then?”

  Dix shook his head. “Just search and we can get out of here.”

  Bev shook her head and turned to work.

  Dix honestly didn’t believe Jessica Daniels had the Heart of the Adjuster, or that it was still in this apartment if she somehow had managed to get her hands on it. But there might be a clue here to give them another place to go.

  Another lead.

  Anything to find out who was behind all of the abductions and killings. And who had what Dixon Hill needed to save everything, and everyone.

  Two hours before the Heart of the Adjuster is ripped off

  Captain’s Log.

  I have given, with great hesitation, Mr. Data and Chief Engineer La Forge permission to set up a test of the device they are calling the Adjuster on the holodeck. Due to the subspace distortions coming from the four singularities forming the Blackness, all ship’s systems are unstable, the holodeck among them. I have been informed that it has flashed through ten different programs in the last hour, including two Klingon training scenarios and a Dixon Hill case. The safety devices in the holodeck are going off and on like a flashing light.

  Chief Engineer La Forge has assured me that he will set up a screen using a small portion of the Auriferite mineral around the controlling systems of the holodeck to make sure the holodeck functions within a safe range. He tells me there may still be some fluctuations, but not enough to make a difference in their tests.

  I am not assured, since the mineral does not screen a large percentage of the subspace disturbances. My officers both feel they need to adjust their device before a full-scale attempt is made to shield the impulse engines and restart them. Otherwise they risk the entire device and all the mineral needed to make it work.

  They have assured me that the only way is to set up a test on the holodeck. They feel the risk of losing the device in the holodeck is worth the greater risk of not having a test and failing on the restart of the impulse engines. So I have reluctantly agreed.

  I am continuing to keep other personnel following other possible means of solving our problem, but so far this device is our most promising lead.

  Section Two: I Wouldn’t Go Down There

  With Dixon Hill, Mr. Data, and Bev all searching Jessica Daniels’ apartment, the mess just got worse. If poor Jessica did recover from her sudden death, she was going to find an apartment that would take some time to make livable again. Normally Dix would have cared, but if they didn’t find the Heart of the Adjuster soon, Jessica and the rest of them would have no home to come back to. So at the moment he was beyond worrying about being neat.

  “Dix,” Bev called out. “Take a look at these.”

  Dix moved over to where she stood by an end table. There was a big glass ashtray on the ground and scattered around it were a dozen or so books of matches. The matchbooks all had writing on them.

  She handed one to Dix.

  Printed clearly on the pack was “Hand’s Garage and Service.”

  There was an address on it that was only about three blocks away. He glanced at Bev. “Seems to me like you found the address of Slippery Stan Hand’s business.”

  “Would seem that way,” Bev said, giving him her best smile. Even after walking in the rain, she still looked great as far as Dix was concerned. After this was all over, he owed her a big dinner and a night on the town.

  “Boss,” Mr. Data called out from across the room. “Come and give a gander at dis.”

  Dix pocketed the book of matches and he and Bev moved to where Mr. Data stood behind an overturned love seat.

  “What did you find?” Dix asked.

  Mr. Data pointed at the lower edge of the love seat.

  At first Dix could see nothing out of the ordinary. The bottom of the piece of furniture had four wooden legs and was covered with a burlap-type cloth. There was some manufacturing writing on the cloth, but nothing else.

  Then, just as he was going to ask Mr. Data what he was pointing at, Dix saw along the seam on the back side of the chair a flap of cloth. He reached down and eased the flap back to expose a zipper.

  “The bottom of a chair with a zipper in it?” Bev asked. “That makes no sense.”

  Dix had to agree. A zipper wasn’t something any normal manufacturer would put in a bottom of a chair, and it was so hidden as to be overlooked by the person who did the first search.

  Dix slowly opened the zipper and exposed a large, black notebook. He pulled it out, made sure there was nothing else in the hidden pocket, then stood and opened the book.

  Handwritten dates, times, and money amounts greeted him. It took Dix a moment of study and flipping through the book to understand what he was holding. This book was full of detailed records of bribes to cops and city officials, hundreds of them, at all levels.

  Bribes by Cyrus Redblock.

  But what was it doing hidden in the couch of the girlfriend of Slippery Stan Hand?

  Suddenly Dix understood part of what had gone on.

  Somehow Slippery Stan Hand copped this book from Cyrus Redblock. That must have really taken some pl
anning and guts.

  But then Redblock discovered who had taken it, and went and put the snatch on Hand, killing his men and taking him, but not finding the book, because Hand had hidden the book here. No wonder this apartment had been searched.

  That still didn’t answer the question of who then snatched Redblock.

  Or who had the Heart.

  “Amazing,” Bev said, looking over Dix’s right shoulder. “Whoever controlled this book would control the city.”

  “I would imagine it was how Redblock kept such a tight hold on everything for so long,” Dix said.

  Mr. Data went into his tough-guy stance. “As O’Mallery said, ‘A guy slips a cop a ten-dollar bill they call it a bribe, but a waiter just takes it and says thank you.’ ”

  “I think the money in the bribe is for a different service,” Bev said.

  Mr. Data just shrugged. “I just quote ’em, toots.”

  Dix did a quick flip-through to make sure his friend Detective Bell wasn’t on the take, then closed the book. Dix was glad to see he wasn’t. At least not from Cyrus Redblock.

  Dix patted the book. “Now we’ve got something to bargain with.”

  “Bargain with?” Bev asked.

  Dix stashed the book inside his raincoat by slipping the book into the top of his pants against the small of his back. His belt would hold it in place and no one would be able to see it under his jacket and raincoat.

  “Sure,” he said. “Someone has the Heart, we have Cyrus Redblock’s bribe record book. Fair trade.”

  “You’d give that book to someone besides the police?” Bev asked. She looked almost stunned.

  “I’d give a lot more than the book in exchange for the Heart right now.”

  Bev stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Good point. So to Stan’s headquarters next?”

  “You got it in one,” Dix said. He pulled out the keys to Jessica’s apartment. “Unless you might have any idea what this small key goes to.”

  The all stared at the small lockbox key as both Bev and Mr. Data shook their heads.

  “Nothing anywhere in here that comes close?” Dix asked, and got the same response.

  “All right, let’s go.” Dix led the way out of the apartment, making sure to lock the door behind them as they went.

  “Ah, fresh air,” Bev said, taking a deep breath as they went down onto the street.

  Dix did the same, but he knew the smell and taste of Jessica Daniels’ perfume was going to be with him for a long, long time.

  Ten minutes later, Mr. Whelan and the others had set up watch posts around Stan Hand’s garage, while Mr. Data and Bev followed Dix to the business.

  It looked like any other car garage in the city, filling a corner of a city block. It was one story tall with a lone gas pump sitting out near the curb, making it look like a stubby cousin to all the taller apartment buildings around it.

  Dix walked up and looked through the grease-covered window of the garage. Bev did the same to the office window. A few cars were up on lifts inside the garage, and tools were scattered on the floor. No sign of anyone, or any bodies.

  “No one in the office,” Bev said, staring in a window on the side of the shop.

  A CLOSED sign had been stuck in the window. Dix moved over and looked in beside her. He could see a desk covered with papers and a trash basket overflowing on the floor. A few car keys hung on hooks on the wall.

  To Dix it looked as if someone had just closed up for the night.

  “Boss, take a look here,” Mr. Data said.

  He was pointing at a few slips of paper tacked to the office door.

  Dix moved over and glanced at them without taking any of them down. They were from unhappy customers who had left cars here and wanted to pick them up, and were not happy the garage was closed. Clearly this business had not been open for a period of time.

  “Time to take a look inside,” Dix said.

  Mr. Data tried the front door. Locked.

  “This way,” Dix said, leading the way around to the back. One side was a three-story apartment building, much like the one that Jessica Daniels had lived in. A small wooden fence split the area between the two buildings. They made their way between some barrels filled with oil and the block garage building. The back door was locked as well, but Mr. Data put his shoulder into it and the old wood broke open like it was tissue.

  The inside was much warmer than outside and smelled of gas and oil mixed with rotting flesh. Suddenly Jessica Daniels’ perfume seemed almost inviting.

  “Oh, this isn’t going to be fun,” Bev said, waving her hand in front of her face.

  Dix could only agree. But they had no choice.

  “This way,” he said, following the stink past the cars on the lifts and into a side office behind the main office. There, an open door led to a staircase leading downward. More than likely that had been the entrance to Slippery Stan Hand’s headquarters. The reek of death coming from that door completely covered the oil and gasoline smell from the garage.

  “Jessica said Stan’s gang was starting to smell,” Dix said, putting his coat sleeve over his nose to help block the odor. “She wasn’t kidding.”

  Dix flipped a switch at the top of the stairs, exposing the room below. One man’s body lay at the foot of the stairs, as if tossed there. Dix could see others beyond, swarming with flies. It was a scene out of a bad horror movie, with dried brown blood, swarming maggots, and all.

  Dix tried to imagine Cyrus Redblock and his men fighting their way in here and doing this. It was possible, but it had to have been risky. Of course, if Slippery Stan Hand had been the one to take the book pressed against the small of Dix’s back, Redblock had had no choice. This killing made sense under those conditions in Redblock and Slippery Stan Hand’s world. But Redblock, in this raid, hadn’t found the book because Slippery Stan had hidden it in a chair in his girlfriend’s apartment.

  Which was why Redblock had taken Stan Hand alive. All this made sense to Dix.

  “I think we could use a few bottles of Jessica’s perfume right about now,” Bev said.

  “I’m not bothered by the smell, boss,” Mr. Data said. “You want me to go search the place?”

  Dix looked at the empty eyes of the dead man below him and decided he and Bev would be of no real service down there.

  “Yes, please,” Dix said, “and make sure you don’t miss anything. Especially a metal lockbox that Jessica’s small key might fit into.”

  “Gotcha,” Mr. Data said, moving down the stairs and into the midst of the stinking bodies.

  Dix watched him descend into the man-made hell, then he and Bev retreated through the office and out the back door into the wonderful, clear, and damp air of the city night.

  Between Jessica’s perfume, the smell coming from that basement, and not finding the Heart of the Adjuster, this night had really stunk.

  And there were no signs of it being over yet.

  Thirty minutes before the Heart of the Adjuster is removed

  Captain’s Log.

  Mr. Data and Chief Engineer La Forge are almost finished with their holodeck tests. Twice the holodeck program flickered, but quickly returned to the program they were using. For the past hour the doors to the holodeck have been stuck open as well. Otherwise, I have been told, the tests are going as well as my two officers had hoped. They will run one more test, then install the device near the impulse engines. We have just over twenty-four hours before this ship enters the Blackness. For my peace of mind, we are cutting this far too closely.

  Section Three: Another Bargaining Chip

  Dix and Bev waited, standing near the corner of the garage, looking out onto the dark, silent street corner. The air was still and cold, almost biting. Dix could see his breath in front of his face again.

  He started to pace, then forced himself to stop and remain silent, just in case anyone was coming at them. Dix knew that two of his people were hidden in doorways down the street, but he couldn’t even spot them. />
  Bev fidgeted as the waiting seemed to grow in length. To Dix if felt as if nothing existed at the moment except him and Bev and the cold, dark street corner.

  “How long has it been?” Bev finally asked, breaking the silence of the night with a whisper.

  “He’s doing a thorough search,” Dix said. “Give him a few more minutes.”

  Bev sighed, her breath a white cloud vanishing in the air in front of her face.

  Finally, Mr. Data stepped from the back door of the garage and headed toward them carrying a small metal box. He stopped a normal distance in front of Dix, but the smell of death and rotting human flesh he carried with him didn’t. It smacked into Dix’s face and nose like a hard slap, sending him a step backward.

  “Oh, my,” Bev said, as she too stepped backward.

  “Boss?” Mr. Data asked, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?”

  Again Mr. Data’s sickly smell crashed into Dix’s senses, made worse by the contrast of the clear night air around them. Dix felt his stomach twist and he forced himself to swallow.

  Again Dix and Bev both stepped back, closer to the street.

  Mr. Data was about to come closer again, chasing them with his unseen weapon, when Dix held up his hand. “Stay where you are, Mr. Data,” he said. “Tell us what you found.”

  Mr. Data looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded. “I found ten bodies. The room had been searched. None of the men carried the Heart of the Adjuster, but I did find this, hidden behind a loose stone block in the wall.”

  Mr. Data held out the metal box.

  “How did you find it when whoever killed those men didn’t?” Bev asked.

  “My question exactly,” Dix said. “Was it obvious?”

  “No,” Mr. Data said. “But I felt there had to be a hiding place of some sort down there. And the back wall made of stone seemed like a logical place.” Mr. Data went into his gangster pose. “As Merle Weir once said, ‘There’s more in most things than meets the eye.’ ”