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A Hard Rain Page 13


  Glass smashed, one man screamed in pain.

  Dix could see that Detective Bell was more than busy and very pinned down behind his car, both by the fire from Benny’s men and the stray shots from the other cops down the road. There was no chance he could pay them the slightest bit of attention. And since they had stopped and surrendered, there was no point that he should.

  Dix eased them all away from the fight, step by step along the dark side street.

  Slowly the gunfire started to decrease. It was clear that Benny and his men had stood no chance in the middle of that road. And why Benny had even tried was beyond Dix. This world was just making no sense at all anymore.

  “Okay, hands down,” Dix said as they reached the middle of the block. “Let’s go. Follow me.”

  With that he picked up speed, expecting to hear shouts to stop behind them at any moment, but the fight was still going on.

  Another man screamed in pain, and more bullets bounced off stone.

  The front window of one of the cop cars exploded. But the sound of the gunfire was now like a thunderstorm echoing in the distance, sometimes a full second of quiet between shots.

  Clearly some of Benny’s men had found cover along the middle of the block and were holding off the cops from both sides far longer than Dix would have thought possible. But he didn’t want to see the blood running in that street right now. The gutters would have to be full of it.

  Dix, with Bev right beside him, reached the corner, crossed the street, and turned away from the fight, going in the opposite direction from the one they had been headed in the first time.

  The last of the gunfire still echoed behind them, but it was amazing how turning one corner could dim it, make it less intrusive and pounding.

  At the next corner Dix turned again, the sounds of his, Bev’s, and the others’ footsteps now louder than the last few shots of the fight.

  Finally the shooting stopped.

  Dix halted right in the middle of the block, right in front of an alley opening.

  The silence of the city clamped down on them like a vise. All of them were breathing hard.

  “Everyone all right?” Dix asked.

  “Shaken,” Bev said.

  The rest nodded they were fine as they brushed glass out of their hair or off their coats and hats.

  “Okay,” Dix said, “they’re going to wonder what happened to us right about now.”

  Dix studied the faces of his people. Bev looked flushed, even in the dark street light, Whelan had lost his hat somewhere, and Carter’s face was pale and he was breathing hard. The others were staring at him, taking deep breaths of the cold night air, their breath white clouds in front of their faces.

  “We’re running out of time,” Bev said.

  Dix knew that as well as anyone. “I want everyone to spread out and work their way back to my office. If you are stopped by the police, say nothing about where you are headed.”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Bev, you and I are going to go see if we can just talk to Harvey Upstairs Benton. Who knows, maybe he’s willing to cut a deal.”

  “At this point anything is worth a try,” Bev said.

  Dix couldn’t agree more.

  “If we don’t return in half an hour everyone report to Mr. Riker.”

  Again everyone nodded.

  “Let’s go, people,” Dix said.

  With that, they turned and started off, a few heading back toward the intersection they had just come through, others starting across the street toward the next intersection, their footsteps the only sound on the silent, dark street.

  Dix and Bev stayed on the sidewalk, walking as fast as Bev’s high heels would allow them to go.

  And with each step more time passed, time they couldn’t afford to lose or waste.

  Section Two: Dealing with the Devil

  Dix hovered over Bev, his back to the street, his coat spread out for cover as the two of them crouched inside a deep doorway, hiding as a cop car passed, slowly, looking for them. The sound of the car’s engine was loud in the street, echoing off the dark windows and empty pavement. Dix held his breath until the car turned the corner and the sound faded, then he exhaled and stood. It had been very lucky for them that they had heard it coming.

  He reached down and helped Bev up. “You all right?”

  She nodded, brushing off her skirt and straightening her hair and coat.

  Dix eased carefully to the edge of the arched doorway and looked out at the street.

  Deserted.

  “Too close,” Bev said as they stepped out of the doorway and started again toward Harvey Upstairs Benton’s headquarters.

  “With a little more than a few hours left, I think everything is too close,” Dix said.

  His stomach was tied in a knot, and he didn’t know if that was from worry or from not eating for so long. He pushed the discomfort away and focused on what he had to do coming up.

  And if he had missed anything.

  Bev said nothing, her heels clicking on the sidewalk, sharp offbeats to his footsteps.

  Dix had a strong feeling they weren’t going to find the Heart of the Adjuster at Harvey’s place. Yet it was the only logical thing he could think of to try at the moment, so they had to do it. Nothing after this made any sense at all.

  Suddenly, as if someone had tossed a switch, the weather shifted. On one block it had seemed like a normal night, with the fog swirling over them, threatening rain at any moment; on the next block it got bitingly cold and snow drifted down in between the buildings.

  “Snow in the city by the bay,” Bev said, holding out her hand and catching a few flakes as they walked. “Now that is something you don’t see very often.”

  “Along the lines of people coming back to life,” Dix said.

  “Yeah, along those lines.”

  In front of them Dix could see the corner of Harvey’s car dealership. “Hands up.”

  Bev did as he said without missing a stride or dropping her purse.

  Holding their hands in the air, they stepped out into the intersection and headed for the front door of Harvey Upstairs Benton’s headquarters.

  A very large man, with a smashed-in nose and a gun impossibly large, stepped toward them. Snow, like a bad case of dandruff, covered his shoulders and hair.

  “We came to see your boss,” Dix said. “We have an offer he’s going to want to hear.”

  “He knows you was comin’,” the guy said.

  Dix glanced at Bev, then shrugged. At this point nothing was surprising him.

  With the big gun the guy with the damaged nose waved them toward the front door of the car dealership. Inside the heat was on and the snow melted off them almost instantly. Two other men came forward, also pointing guns at them.

  “Armed?” one of them asked.

  “Of course,” Dix said, opening up his coat and showing them the gun.

  “That’s where it stays,” one man said.

  “I understand,” Dix said. “I’m here to deal, not fight.”

  “Smart move,” the guy said. “Healthy.”

  He pointed the way toward a door in the back, leaving the big guy with the smashed nose to move back out into the snow to stand guard.

  Dix and Bev went through the door and down a long hall to an office filled with pictures of cars, a large desk, and not much else. A man in an expensive pinstriped suit sat behind the desk doing paperwork. He glanced up as they entered and the two goons took up positions on both sides of the door behind them.

  Harvey Upstairs Benton looked just like a car dealer. The minute he looked up at them he flashed a smile that was about as phony and put-on as smiles came. His hair was slicked back and thinning, and he wore too many rings.

  “Mr. Hill,” Harvey said, “I hear you are looking for me.”

  “Actually,” Dix said, “I’m looking for a small ball, about so big.” Dix showed him the size, then went on. “Painted gold.”

  “And this ball is worth
waltzing in here in the middle of the night to ask me about?”

  “It is,” Dix said.

  “Must be a valuable ball,” Harvey said.

  “To a few people, it is,” Dix said. “To everyone else, it is worthless.”

  “And if I had this ball,” Harvey said, “you’d be willing to pay for it? Am I right?”

  Dix could feel his stomach twist. Was it possible this man actually had the Heart of the Adjuster? “I would.”

  Harvey laughed. “And just what might you have that I could use?”

  “First,” Dix said, staring into Harvey’s cold eyes, “to show my good faith, I’ll give you some information you can use right now.”

  Harvey stopped smiling and leaned back in his chair. “I’m waiting.”

  “In the wall safe behind an ugly picture, in the back room of Benny the Banger’s hardware store, is Slippery Stan Hand’s ledger book. And I would imagine Benny’s as well.”

  “You mean the book that records all Stan’s deals?” Harvey asked, clearly testing Dix.

  “That’s the one, with names and times and amounts and everything.”

  “So what makes you think I can get in there now?” Harvey asked.

  Dix looked at him with surprise. He had known that Dix and Bev were coming to talk to him, but he hadn’t known about the gunfight just six blocks away. That didn’t make sense, but he couldn’t tell if Harvey was playing him along or not.

  “The cops are cleaning up what is left of Benny and his gang in the middle of the street about six blocks from here,” Dix said. “He was headed this way to take you on, but the police got there first.”

  Harvey smiled, and then laughed, deep and low, and very, very mean. But neither the laugh, nor the smile, got to his eyes. “I know,” Harvey said. “I was the one that tipped the cops off to Benny’s and your plan.”

  Dix knew they were in trouble. This guy was a long ways in front of them on many fronts.

  Harvey reached into the drawer and pulled out a ledger book and flipped it onto the desk. “I assume you are talking about this book,” Harvey said. “I had my boys pick it up before you and your mob was two blocks from Benny’s place.”

  Dix said nothing. Clearly this man knew far, far more than he was letting on. And until Dix knew exactly what this man wanted and what he didn’t, anything Dix might say could get him and Bev killed.

  “So Mr. Hill, what is it you can offer me?”

  “I would assume you know,” Dix said, staring into the depths of those dark, evil eyes.

  Again Harvey laughed, like a salesman laughing at a joke from a customer, even though he’d heard it a thousand times. “Very good, Mr. Hill. I know why you have such a reputation.”

  Dix said nothing.

  “How about Redblock’s ledger?” Harvey asked. “Are you willing to give me Redblock’s ledger, assuming you have it, for this gold ball of yours?”

  “I am,” Dix said. He had no doubt that Harvey knew he had it.

  Harvey again leaned back. “Too bad I don’t have your little ball. If I did, I honestly would give it to you. But I don’t, I’m afraid to say.”

  Dix kept quiet. He had guessed and felt, deep in his gut, almost from the moment they had started talking, that Harvey didn’t have the ball and had just been playing them. Now it was a matter of getting out of here alive and trying to look somewhere else in what little time they had left.

  “So,” Harvey said, smiling at Dix and then winking at Bev, “how about I trade you your lives for Redblock’s book instead? That sound like a fair trade?”

  “I assume you keep your deals and are an honorable man,” Dix said.

  Harvey laughed. “Of course I’m not honorable. I sell used cars. But you have to know that I have some honor, since you’re still standing there, alive.”

  Dix kept his mouth shut and Harvey went on.

  “In this case, I will give you my word that you can leave alive and well if I have Redblock’s ledger. And when I say you can trust my word, you can trust it.”

  “Besides,” Dix said, “if you have the ledger, you have no reason to bother killing us.”

  “Well,” Harvey said, “you do have a good point there. Who knows when I might need a detective on my side down the road, especially someone as good as you are.”

  Dix nodded, reached into his coat.

  Guns cocked behind them and Dix froze. Harvey put up his hand for his men to hold it. “Can’t you see that Mr. Hill here is an honorable man who wouldn’t want this beautiful woman friend of his hurt.”

  Dix didn’t bother to look around at the guns pointed at him. Instead he pulled out the ledger from the back of his belt, then flipped it onto the desk in front of Harvey Upstairs Benton. It landed with a thud that felt very, very final.

  Harvey quickly glanced through it, then nodded and closed the book. “Escort Mr. Hill and his lovely date out. And Mr. Hill, if you ever need a car, I’ll give you a deal.”

  “Thanks,” Dix said.

  Harvey tapped the ledger and smiled. “For bringing me this, I owe you that much.”

  “Just let me know if you find that ball in the next few hours,” Dix said. “After that it’s not going to matter.”

  Harvey frowned as Dix turned and, with one hand on Bev’s elbow, went out the door, down the hallway, and back out into the gently falling snow as the two goons with guns followed them.

  They turned and at a fast walk headed for Dix’s office.

  If the situation wasn’t so desperate, the snow might actually have been beautiful to walk in. It didn’t snow that often in the city by the bay.

  Section Three: Once More Into the Breach

  About two blocks from Harvey’s car dealership, it stopped snowing; a block later it started raining; a block after that the clouds cleared and the stars came out. Dix felt almost beat up, not only by the weather, but by the night that would never end. He was cold, damp, and angry at himself. Dixon Hill and the Luscious Bev walked through the smorgasbord of weather, saying nothing. Dix didn’t even much notice the changes. Pretty soon, in a few short hours, the city would be gone, and everything else as well, and all because he couldn’t find a small golden ball.

  After eight long blocks of silence, eight long blocks of Dix going over and over every detail he could think of, they reached his office building. He was so lost in thought, he almost walked past it. Bev had to tug on his arm to get him to stop and turn in.

  “Any luck, boss?” Mr. Whelan asked from his position to the right of the stairs outside.

  “Not yet, I’m afraid,” Dix said. “You have guards set up?”

  “Both directions down the sidewalk,” Whelan said.

  “Good.” Dix wasn’t sure why he was still having them stay on guard, but better to be warned about something coming at them than not.

  Dix and Bev climbed the outside steps and went inside, then climbed up to the second floor. The smell of Jessica Daniels’ perfume still lingered faintly in the background. Her blood on the carpet was gone in the upper hallway. In both directions the hall seemed empty, almost forecasting how everything was going to be shortly.

  “Who do you think shot Jessica?” Bev asked as they got to the top.

  Dix pointed to the lack of blood spot in the carpet. “I suppose we could always go ask her. But my guess would be one of Harvey’s goons trying to get Stan Hand’s ledger.”

  Bev nodded. “So would mine.”

  Three of Dix’s men sat in the outer office. Carter, Daniels, and Williams. “Find it?” Carter asked as all three men stood.

  “No,” Dix said as Mr. Data opened the door from the inner office. He no longer smelled of death and rotting flesh, but was dressed in what looked like the same suit.

  “So where do we look next, boss?” Mr. Data asked.

  “You know,” Dix said, moving inside and hanging up his hat and coat, “I honestly don’t have a clue.”

  He moved around and dropped into his chair as the others took up positions around th
e room.

  Silence filled the office.

  The silence of death and despair.

  Dix could feel it, wanted to fight it. Yet he had nothing to hold up to stop it.

  “Well,” Bev said, “we’re not going to find it sitting around here. Why not go over what happened again?”

  “Exactly,” Mr. Data said. “Go back to the crime scene to find that one clue we missed the first time. It happens a lot in detective novels.”

  “Mr. Data,” Dix said, “this isn’t a novel. And the crime scene was just out there in the hallway, remember?”

  “Vividly,” Mr. Data said.

  “What can it hurt?” Bev said, moving over and pulling Dix up out of his chair. “Let’s run through what happened one more time, just to make sure we haven’t missed anything before we give up on this and try something else.”

  Dix let himself be pushed. She was right. Moving, acting was their only hope at this point, even though acting might solve little. At least he was doing something.

  All six of them moved out into the hallway.

  “This was where the Adjuster ended up,” Mr. Data said. He pointed to an exact spot in the middle of the hall, right at the top of the stairway.

  “And where were you, Mr. Data?” Bev asked.

  “We were working to open the door here,” Mr. Data said, taking ten steps down the hall toward the wall where Dix knew the door was. It was out of sight of both where the Adjuster sat and the staircase.

  Bev looked at where the door in the wall was, then back at the spot where the Adjuster had sat.

  “What are you thinking?” Dix asked.

  Bev motioned for him to wait, then moved down the stairs, her heels clicking on the hard stairs as everyone stood in silence and watched. She stopped on the landing and looked back up at them. “How high was the Adjuster?” she asked.

  Mr. Data held his hand about knee high.

  The Luscious Bev started back up the staircase.

  “How high was the Heart of the Adjuster?” she asked.

  Date knelt and put his right hand into a fist and put it below his left. It was a pretty good approximation of how the golden ball had sat in the small machine.