A Hard Rain Read online

  Still rubbing his jaw, the guy nodded.

  Dix turned and headed down the dark, wet street toward where he was to meet the Luscious Bev and Mr. Data on their stakeout.

  Behind him he could hear a soft cussing sound as Benny’s goon picked his gun from the dirty water and held it up like a day old fish. Swimmin’ in the gutter couldn’t be good on a piece.

  Twenty-seven hours before the Heart of the Adjuster is heisted

  Captain’s Log. Personal.

  The Enterprise is still four hours from the Blackness and none of the crew seems to have any more information about what it is than they did four hours ago. It seems we have a major mystery facing us.

  As Dr. Crusher has ordered for my mental health, I spent the hours relaxing on the holodeck as Dixon Hill. I have just returned from a very interesting chat with Cyrus Redblock, the crime boss of the city. He had paced in his plush office on the second floor of a warehouse, his coat off, his hat on the hat rack, his face red from the movement of his solid frame back and forth. He had told me, in no uncertain terms, that he had nothing to do with the murder of the actress Marci Andrews. And he didn’t know who did.

  Period. End of story, is exactly what he said.

  But he let slip one important detail. Just as I had enjoyed Mrs. Andrew’s shows, so had he. I have the gut feeling, from his comments, that he had cared for her more than as just a member of her audience.

  But if that is the case, I have even less reason to suspect that he was involved with her death.

  The case of “Murder at the Stage Door” is turning out to be a fascinating case that may take until after our exploration of the Blackness to solve.

  One mystery at a time.

  Section Three: War Ain’t Pretty

  The fog rolled in like an unwanted visitor demanding to be noticed. Dixon Hill turned off the brighter main thoroughfare onto a dark and narrow side street. The gray mist closed in around him, making the nearest building seem impossibly distant. It was as if he’d stepped into another world.

  He felt alone.

  The swirling fog blocked even the traffic sounds behind him. One streetlight fought against the black shadows and lost.

  He kept moving, not letting his pace change. His steps now sounded like they were coming from someone else a long distance away. His face was wet from the mist, and the smell of the fish houses on the docks clogged his nose.

  He couldn’t see it, but he knew that ahead on his right was a warehouse that up until a few minutes ago he thought had housed Cyrus Redblock’s gang. Dix had been in the plush office on the second floor of that warehouse a number of times, the most recent while working on the murder of the actress.

  After the Heart of the Adjuster had been taken, Dix had ordered Mr. Data, Mr. Whelan, and two others to go to a location across from this warehouse to watch and wait. Bev had joined them with even more help a short time later.

  But if Redblock had been snatched, as the goon working for Benny the Banger had claimed, it was going to throw a monkey wrench into all of Dix’s plans. And they didn’t have much time for too many delays.

  A shape appeared out of the fog just in front of Dix, drifting through the mist as if his feet didn’t touch the ground. The man’s white hat and pale skin seemed to glow in the faint light as he moved silently forward.

  “Sir,” Mr. Data said, “No one has left or entered the building.”

  “Thank you,” Dix said. “And Mr. Data, address me as Dix, or Dixon Hill while we are in here. No sirs. Understand? No point in causing any confusion.”

  “Yes, s—, uhh, Dix.”

  “Get the others,” Dix said. “We’re going in.”

  Without a sound Mr. Data turned and vanished into the fog like a ghost moving through a wall.

  Dix walked on down the street toward the side door of the warehouse, his heels doing a distant drum roll on the pavement, muffled, without an echo.

  Normally one of Redblock’s men would be outside the door, leaning against the wall, smoking one cig after another. But as the door appeared through the fog, Dix could tell something was very wrong. There was no guard, and the door stood open, a black, yawning hole no doubt leading to more problems.

  Dix paused and waited until Data and the others appeared out of the swirling mist, moving across the street toward him. Data and the Luscious Bev led the way, followed by Whelan, Carter, Stanley, and Douglas.

  A small gang for the moment. Others were getting ready to join them. Dix hoped he wasn’t going to need the help.

  He had no doubt he was.

  “I’ve been told that Redblock’s been snatched,” Dix said. “But let’s not take any chances. Go in slow and easy.”

  “Snatched by who?” Bev asked, her voice low and sultry as she moved to stand beside him. She was as beautiful as ever, even with the moisture pushing her hair against her head under the wide brim of her hat.

  “We find that out,” Dix whispered, “I suspect we find what we are looking for.”

  “Ready, s—, uh, boss,” Data said.

  Dix nodded. “Mr. Data, go to the right, Mr. Stanley and Mr. Carter, you go left. Mr. Douglas and Mr. Whelan, you remain out here on guard. I don’t want to be surprised in there.”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Find some lights and get them on,” Dix said. “And let’s be careful. These bullets can kill us just as fast, and just as completely, as any weapon we’ve ever seen.”

  “Gotcha, boss,” Data said. Then he hitched up his pants and stood in his gangster posture. “As Mack Bolen once said, ‘I can only die one death at a time.’ ”

  Dixon Hill just stared at his friend until finally Mr. Data nodded and stepped silently through the door, followed at once by Stanley and Carter, their guns drawn.

  The mist swirled between Dix and Bev as they waited, mixing the sound of his own breathing with the silence of the narrow street. The fog so dampened the sound that it seemed impossible that they were standing in the middle of a major city.

  Suddenly the yellow of a faint light framed the doorway, casting a square of light into the street.

  Dix nodded to Whelan, then stepped through into the high-ceilinged warehouse.

  And into a bloodbath.

  The space was stacked with wooden crates, all sealed. A half dozen cars were scattered around, all pointed at the closed main door of the warehouse, as if poised for a quick getaway that clearly hadn’t happened.

  Dix recognized the cream and white of Redblock’s car. The man never went anywhere in the city without that car. Yet there it sat.

  Dix took his time as he studied the large room. Bodies were everywhere, scattered around like dolls thrown by an angry child. From the looks of them, all had been Redblock’s men, gunned down in what appeared to be a very intense fight.

  Bullets had torn up everything, including the side of Redblock’s car. The place smelled of gunpowder and blood.

  Too much blood.

  Dix studied the scene, noting the details and where some of the men must have made a stand against a large force coming in from the back of the building. This hadn’t happened that long ago. Maybe two to four hours at most.

  Maybe right after someone had taken the Heart of the Adjuster.

  Mr. Data stood in the doorway leading to a flight of stairs. Stanley had taken up a position to the right of the door behind a crate. Dix motioned that Stanley stay in position. “Carter, check out the back area.”

  “Oh, my,” Bev said, moving toward one of the closest bodies. She bent over the man in a black suit, then turned to Dix and shook her head. “Looks like we’re in a full war. Someone shot this man a few extra times to make sure he was dead.”

  In all the cases Dix had worked in this city, he had never seen or heard of such carnage. Clearly the reality of this city had changed.

  No one was safe.

  He had known that. The blood splattered everywhere, like a mad child had gotten into red paint, just put a very clear exclamation point on the sen
tence.

  “Stay alert,” Dix said.

  He and Bev stepped over one twisted body and headed toward Mr. Data. He wasn’t sure what they were going to find in Redblock’s office, but they had to look.

  And after that? What was next?

  Dixon Hill had no idea. Somehow, they needed to find the Heart of the Adjuster and find it fast. But from the looks of what had happened to Redblock’s men, that task had just gotten harder.

  And far, far more dangerous.

  Twenty-five hours before the Heart of the Adjuster is snatched

  Captain’s Log. Personal.

  The Enterprise is two hours from the Blackness and still none of my crew can tell me exactly what is causing it. Mr. Data believes it may be an area of space influenced by a nearby quantum singularity, but we have studied thousands of black holes and none have caused this type of dampening of all sensors and twisting of light in such a large area. No one is even sure exactly where the effects start, only that light seems to vanish at a certain point ahead of us, and no sensors can get through that point.

  I have ordered the ship to approach slowly and with shields up, just to add a level of caution. But I want answers before we even think of getting much closer.

  For the moment my adventures in the City by the Bay will have to wait. I felt I was close to solving the case of “Murder at the Stage Door” and finding out who killed the actress Marci Andrews. But that world can be put on hold until we discover what faces us. The real world demands to come first.

  Section Four: Reality Ain’t What It’s Cracked Up to Be

  The narrow, wooden stairs leading up to Cyrus Redblock’s second story office creaked under Mr. Data’s weight, no matter how silently he tried to move. He kept stopping with each step, clearly bothered by the alarm sounds.

  “Go on,” Dix said. “If someone is up there, they know we’re here. A few loose boards will make no difference.”

  Mr. Data nodded.

  Dix doubted from what he had seen in the warehouse that they would find anyone alive upstairs. And he doubted if they would just find the Adjuster sitting on Redblock’s desk, or in a drawer. But they had to look.

  The smell of blood got stronger as they neared the top, pushing at them, warning them to go back. Bev covered her mouth and nose with a white-gloved hand.

  Mr. Data reached the landing.

  Dix nodded to him.

  With his big revolver drawn, Mr. Data twisted around the corner and stepped out of sight into the dark office.

  Bev took a deep breath and held it. Dix kept his gun leveled on the landing above them as the seconds seemed to stretch into an eternity.

  “Clear, boss,” Mr. Data said.

  A light came on in the office, filling the top of the staircase with a yellow glow.

  Dix had expected the worst inside the office, and that was what greeted him. Three were dead, with dried blood splattered everywhere, as if some kid had gone crazy with dark brown paint. The walls were smashed and pockmarked with bullet holes, the desk overturned, the couch ripped apart. Two streams of blood had formed a small pool on the hardwood floor.

  “None of them are Cyrus Redblock,” Mr. Data said.

  “Well, it seems my information was correct,” Dix said. “Redblock has been snatched, and his gang is wiped out.”

  “Why?” Bev said, moving up to stand beside Dix as they studied the carnage.

  “Power and control,” Dix said. “It has become a war. Whoever did this is out to take over the city, and until that is accomplished, there’s going to be a lot of killing.”

  “The Heart?” Bev asked.

  “More den likely,” Mr. Data said, “snatched by da same person who did da killin’ here.”

  Mr. Data hitched up his pants and tucked his gun back in its holster under his arm.

  Dix just shook his head. Mr. Data might be right. And he might not be. They needed a lot more information before jumping to that conclusion.

  “So what do we do next?” Bev asked.

  “We do a quick search of the office,” Dix said. “Just to make sure the Heart wasn’t brought here before this happened.”

  Two minutes later they were convinced it wasn’t in the office anywhere. Data had even opened the safe hidden behind the picture of a sunset.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Dix said. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be disappointed. That would blur his thinking too much. For the next few hours he needed to be thinking as clearly as any private detective had ever thought.

  At that moment something bounced on the hardwood floor near the wall.

  Mr. Data spun around, his gun back in his hand faster than any quick-draw fighter in the old West.

  A moment later something else dropped to the floor and bounced.

  Dix stared at it, not believing what he was seeing. A spent bullet had just popped out of the wall.

  Twenty-four hours before the Heart of the Adjuster is grabbed

  Captain’s Log.

  The Enterprise is drifting in space. We have managed to maintain most internal systems and environmental controls, but warp core went unstable and Engineer La Forge managed to get it shut down before it had to be jettisoned. The magnetic constraints of the impulse drive have also become unstable, leaving us only with docking thrusters.

  Many other of the ship’s systems are having problems, but so far we have kept the essential ones going. It would seem, although none of my people have yet to confirm my suspicion, that the Blackness, as the area of space is being called, has a wider reach than we had expected and has caused, in some fashion, both the destabilization of the warp core and the magnetic failure of the impulse drives.

  We have less than forty-eight hours until our current speed, slowed by steering thrusters, causes us to enter into the Blackness. At this point we have no idea what would happen. But it would seem imperative that we not enter that area of space without a great deal more information.

  Section Five: Ghosts with Guns

  Dixon Hill could not believe what he was seeing. And for a man who trusted his ability to see details where others would miss them, that rocked him.

  But what was happening should not be happening. Not in this world.

  Not in any world.

  Bullets, fired into the wall during the snatch of Cyrus Redblock and the wiping out of his gang, were popping back out of the wall, and the holes sealing over, as if the shot had never happened.

  So many of the bullets were coming out of the walls, the desks, and the bodies, and bouncing on the wood floor, that it sounded like he was inside a pan of popcorn popping.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Dix said.

  With a quick twist he turned the startled Bev around and headed her toward the office door and the staircase beyond.

  They were halfway down the stairs when the shout came from below. “Dix!”

  It was Mr. Carter.

  “Everyone out!” Dix shouted to his people as he and Bev reached the ground floor, followed by Mr. Data.

  The body closest to them was moving, the blood running along the cold, hard concrete and back into the man. It was like watching a movie in reverse.

  Redblock’s men were coming back to life.

  “Mr. Stanley, Mr. Carter, get out!” Dix shouted as he and Bev and Mr. Data ran across the large warehouse toward the open door.

  Carter did as he was told, followed a moment later by Stanley.

  “Not so fast!” a voice said from behind them.

  “Freeze!” another voice shouted.

  They were thirty paces from the door across the open concrete.

  Thirty paces of cold, hard death.

  Dix yanked Bev to a stop and turned to face the man who had shouted.

  Mr. Data stopped beside him.

  Five of Redblock’s men were on their feet, with no signs of the bullet holes that had riddled them a few moments before. All had guns leveled on them.

  “Reach for the heavens,” one of the goons ordered, waving
his gun at the ceiling.

  Another of the walking dead climbed to his feet and picked up his gun and joined his friends.

  “What do we do now?” Bev whispered to Dix.

  Mr. Data gave her an answer. “As Henry Gamadge said, ‘Always act as if there was going to be a murder.’ ”

  “What?” Bev asked.

  Mr. Data shrugged. “These men were killed. They cannot be happy with the situation.”

  Dix could not have agreed more. This was not a situation normally faced by a streetwise detective.

  “Just great,” Bev said as yet another dead goon came back to life and joined the party.

  “So,” Dixon Hill said, putting his hands in the air, “we do as they say. Unlike them, if we die, we stay dead. Remember?”

  The Luscious Bev had nothing else to say.

  And Mr. Data had no more quotes.

  She and Mr. Data raised their hands in the air and the three of them stood there like a picket fence, facing the walking dead.

  Outside the open door, so close and yet so far away, it started to rain again.

  Clues from Dixon Hill’s notebook in “The Case of the Missing Heart”

  • Cyrus Redblock has been snatched by an unknown party.

  • Benny the Banger wants to rule the city.

  • Reality has changed and death is only temporary to those who live in the city.

  Chapter Two

  Mobsters, Gangsters, and Thugs, Oh My!

  Section One: Dealing with the Devil’s Assistant

  THE RAIN POUNDED on the metal roof of Cyrus Redblock’s warehouse like a hundred drummers, making it almost impossible to hear any distinctive beat. It was a constant thunder, gaining in intensity, then fading back, only to come on strong again. Dixon Hill ignored the noise and worked at the binds that dug into his wrists. The rope was coarse, rough, and pulled tight, locking his arms behind his back. The goon that tied them had also wrapped the rope once around his chest and around the back of the wooden chair. Dix could stand with the chair, but at the moment that would serve no purpose.