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“I don’t know why you felt the need to question me.” I folded my arms and leant back in the chair. “You could see what happened from the security footage.” The two detectives had been nice enough to give me a lift back to Sector Six. Well, back to their damned little cage, the interrogation room in the police station, where they’d quizzed me for hours on what had happened on the roof with the shooter. “You’ve kept me here all night with only a brief bathroom break to clean myself up. I’m hungry. I’m goddamned tired. And you haven’t even arrested me, so I don’t know exactly what’s compelling me to stay.”
“Surely, Mr Gemini,” said Suede, “you’re here because of a sense of civic duty.”
The room stank, mainly because of me, but not entirely. “I didn’t push her off the roof.” The enclosed space was stale and lacked any sort of air conditioning or filtration system. Musty. Dank.
The cop cleared his throat and stood. “So you say.” He walked to the fake mirror taking up one wall, the one used to spy on interrogations, and admired his round face.
“What in goddamned hell is wrong with you?” I said. “I did nothing wrong.”
Suede sighed and faced me. “That’s not wholly why you’re here.”
“Oh? Why exactly am I here? You’ve taken my statement.”
“I don’t know how to put this... and I really can’t believe I’m about to ask this... but we need your help.”
“We?”
I watched as cogs turned, slowly, in the detective’s head; he was taking his time to come up with an answer. “Myself. Er... and Johnson, of course.”
“Really?” I didn’t bother to even try and hide my incredulity; my eyebrows rose at their own volition. I leant forward and rested my elbows on the metal table, fingers intwined beneath my chin. “There’s more going on here,” I said. “Much more than you’re letting on. This is big.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Cut the bullshit, Suede; you need to tell me what’s really going on. Why were you and Johnson in Sector Three? That’s not your usually haunt.”
“It’s not yours either.” The cop took a seat opposite me. “And she’s fine thanks for asking; only a surface wound.”
“That’s why I didn’t ask.” I needed a goddamned drink. And I was craving a smoke, even though I’d quit. And at least the smell of cigarettes would dull my sense of smell and pollute the musty air of this little stink hole they called an interview room. “You weren’t in Sector Three just for me, were you?”
“We saved your life.”
“And I’m grateful,” I said, “but you need to tell me what’s going on.” I felt a grin creep along my cheeks; it was time to pull an ace from up my sleeve, one of many. “Or do I need to talk to your boss about that bakery you like to frequent in Sector Seven? You don’t just go there for the freshly baked baps, do you? You and I know why you really go there. Maybe Johnson needs to know?”
The look of shock and surprise on the detective’s face was sublime. “How...? How do you know about...?”
“Let’s just say I have my sources.”
“Listen Gemini,” his voice lowered, “the less people know about that bakery, the better.”
“There’s at least three of us that know. For now.” I let that last sentence hang in the air. I let it stew, let Suede think about exactly what it meant. It wasn’t the only card I could play but I needed to save the better stuff for the more important leverage. Some things could only be useful once. I continued: “I’m not saying I’ve told other people, trusted confidantes, but I could... I could become very talkative about your dirty little secret.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” I said. “I’ve had one hell of a week so far and my patience is running low. Goddamned rooftop escapades are exhausting! And did I mention that I’ve been up all night?”
“Haven’t we all.” The man opposite me took a deep breath and sighed. “You’ll find out soon enough anyway; I may as well be the one to tell you, rather than the press conference later today.” His voice lowered again, and he leant in close. “You’ve got to promise me to keep this under wraps.”
I held up my crossed fingers, a promise, and waved them in front of his face. I couldn’t stop thinking how easy it was to pull this information from the cop; Suede was one of those people who couldn’t keep secrets and quite how he’d kept the secret of that bakery away from his partner, Johnson, was beyond me.
“Promise me,” said the detective. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I promise,” I said. I planned to keep the secret until I had a use for it.
“We were there for Dionne Bex. Personally requested if you must know.”
“What?” Ms Bex was the CEO of Tribeca Systems, the company that had been behind my accident and the events of last year. She’d screwed me over.
“You know who she is, don’t play dumb.”
“I know,” I said. I’d been suspicious of their appearance in Sector Three, but that suspicion was now just the tip of the iceberg. Suede and Johnson... weren’t exactly the cream of the crop; Bex must’ve picked them for a damned good reason. It couldn’t be something to do with last year, could it? “I just can’t believe you would have anything to do with her after...”
“Johnson and I... we’re still cops. We go where we’re needed, and it just so happens that Ms Bex formed a task force of cops from across Space Station Delta.”
“A task force? And what goddamned crap has that snake Bex dragged you into now?”
“That doesn’t matter right now; someone tried to kill her. She’s in a coma.”
I found myself lost for words; my mouth was moving but nothing was coming out and my brain had shut down. I felt like a fish, blubbing on the stale air in the interview room. Ums and ahs escaped from the back my throat as I tried to find sentences, even words, letters, sounds, to respond to that. Someone tried to goddamned kill her.
“Don’t worry,” said Suede. He winked; it seemed unnatural and forced. “You’re not a suspect.” My gut told me he wasn’t being sincere.
“I should hope not!”
“We know who did it,” he said. “At least we’re almost certain of the who; we just need to find them...” His voice trailed off, and he leant back in his chair.
“Who was it?”
“What?”
“Who tried to kill her?”
“Oh, just someone we’ve been after for a while.”
I was tempted to ask Suede for a cigarette, but I knew he didn’t smoke. Neither did I. Not anymore. “It still doesn’t add up,” I said. I needed to get drunk after all this; I hadn’t slept all night and gallons of whiskey would, thankfully, put me into a coma. “I still don’t understand why you and Johnson were in Sector Three. And how someone managed to get so close to Ms Bex? She’s rich and powerful; her security would’ve been damned tight. Did your killer come all the way from Sector Six to Sector Three just to try and kill the CEO of Tribeca Systems? It’s all very suspicious.”
“Just as suspicious as finding you hanging from a ledge in Sector Three?” He folded his arms and huffed. “Your home turf is Sector Six, just like ours.”
“I’m also suspicious of how you goddamned found me.”
The portly cop shrugged. “We were heading back home when someone put the call in. Strange man crawling along a ledge in Sector Three. The fact that it was you was only a coincidence.”
“Still doesn’t add up.”
The chair scraped its metal legs across the floor as Suede stood. “I don’t know exactly how much I can tell you, Mr Gemini.” He peered down at me, a look of concern washing over his features, if only for a moment. “Suffice to say that Detective Johnson, and myself, are part of the taskforce searching for a serial killer; we’ve been put in charge of the Sector Six division. The details of which are not public.” I’d never seen the police officer look more serious than he did right now. This killer, whoever or whatever they were, had rattled him, deeply. “We were called over to this sector because it seems that Ms Bex, was attacked by this murderer.” I opened my mouth to speak but Suede held up a finger to silence me. “Before you ask, I don’t know how they got so close to Ms Bex, or if there’s any connection between the killer and her.”
“When and where?”
“Yesterday morning, it seems. At Tribeca’s headquarters. In her office.”
“That’s troubling.” I’d been there once, maybe twice. There was one elevator, as far as I knew, that connected her office both to the foyer of the building and to an exit round the back. One way in. One way out. And she had that formidable bodyguard who kept watch. Tony, I think his name was. He helped me crack a case wide open one drunken night; I fought against a grin thinking about it. “She’s not exactly a public person,” I said. “Not many people know who she is.”
“But you and I do.”
“After last year. That stuff with Subject B.” I scratched my stubbled chin. “He’s not the killer, is he? I mean, he’s definitely dead. He was fried, I saw it.” And so, was Sam, I thought. “Or could it be Augustus Smith?” I said with some sarcasm in my voice. “The mysterious Emerald Killer who disappeared completely around the same time as my accident?”
“It’s not either one of them,” said Suede in a serious tone.
“Then, who...?”
“Stop asking; that’s one of the things I can’t tell you.” He sat back down in the chair. “At least, not yet.”
“I’ll find out,” I said. “You know I will.”
“I don’t doubt it,” said the cop. “But you’re not going to find out from me. Not even under threat of revealing my secrets. If anyone found out I leaked the identity of the killer before it’s made public, and it will be made public soon, then my goose is cooked; I’d have to take up private investigation to earn a living. Chase philanderers and take naughty pics of couples from rooftops.”
“It was a cat.”
“Same difference.” He grinned. He was going to goddamned say it. I knew he was. “You were still chasing p...”
“No. No, please, no.” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “That’s something Johnson would say, not you. And even then, I’d have stopped her.”
“Fair enough.”
“Tell me, is there any connection between the shooter last night and this serial killer?”
Suede shook his head. “It doesn’t seem like it,” he said. “Your shooter was a known gun for hire, commonly referred to as Jane Doe. Rumour has it that she was a foundling, abandoned by her mother in a back alley and raised by the mob.”
“I don’t think that’s relevant; the story of her birth is a little elaborate.”
He shrugged. “She’s never struck out at the cops before, usually low-level stuff like armed robbery and protection runs. I’m guessing you hadn’t heard of her?”
“No. I’ve never had any dealings with the mob.” That was a lie, but what Suede didn’t know would hurt. It was rare that, in my cases involving organised crime, there would be dealings with any of their heavies. Best to keep out of their way if you know what’s good for you. And I did. “I don’t think she’s got any links to any past cases,” I said, “But there might be some links to Queenie’s fake statue case; it’s an expensive piece of art. I’ll look into it.”
“No, you won’t,” said Suede. “You leave Jane Doe to us. This isn’t the sort of thing private investigators are supposed to be investigating.”
“Oh? Since when did you become an expert on my job?”
“You’re a private citizen, Jack; you’re not a cop. Leave this to me and Johnson.”
“I’m still going to look into the statue thing. As a favour to my lover,” I said. “And, if there is a connection to this shooter, I’ll just pull on that goddamned thread until the case unravels, wherever it takes me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of... that it’ll lead down a path that leads to your grave.” He stood again. “Wait here,” he said. “There’s something I need to check on.”
“Can you get me drink?” I asked. “You’ve had me here for hours and I’m parched and tired. I need something to keep me going.”
“Fine,” said Suede. He walked to the door and grasped the handle. “What’ll it be?”
“Whiskey,” I said without missing a beat. “With ice.”
The detective grunted a snorty laugh, neither a confirmation or rejection of my request, and closed the door behind him.
“Or a coffee,” I called out, but I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me.
My thoughts turned to serial killers and murder, people like Augustus Smith who’d eluded justice for years. He’d disappeared a long time ago, and there were plenty of other serial killers that still hadn’t been caught. I wondered if the task force, on the behest of one of the most powerful women in the solar system, was looking into a known killer or a new one. I didn’t have the patience to wait for an answer from Suede. Or from Johnson. I could probably talk one of them round to my way of thinking, the right pressure in the right places, but it would be too much damned effort on my part, and I had other means at my disposal. I certainly had enough dirt on the incompetent pair if my other plans went awry; we seemed to have bumped into each other a lot more over the past year since the fiasco with the other me, the parallel Jack Gemini. Had they been keeping an eye on me? I wasn’t exactly their problem. I wasn’t exactly from this universe. I was a fake. Another Jack Gemini. Out of time. Out of place.
Thankfully, Suede’s return to the interview room broke me away from darker thoughts that were beginning to surface. Darker thoughts. And the fates of Jill and Sam.
The police officer placed a cardboard cup in front of me. I could smell the bittersweet aroma before I’d even lifted the thing anywhere near my lips.
“Coffee,” I said. I took a sip. I needed it; the night’s exertions were beginning to take their toll.
“We were all out of whiskey,” said Suede with a chuckle. Goddamned funny bastard.
I took another gulp of the hot liquid; it burned my throat, but I didn’t care. It felt good and Suede had piled in the sugar, just how I liked it. It wasn’t the first time he’d brought me coffee and it wouldn’t be the last; he must’ve known how much I needed some sweet caffeine, and alcohol would’ve only sent me off to sleep.
The cop returned to his seat opposite, placed his own coffee in front of him, and wrapped his hands around the cup. He stared at me. I could tell he was thinking; cogs spun behind his eyes, and I could tell he was coming to a decision. He had an unfortunate wheeze in his nostrils, a partial blockage. I don’t know if he noticed or not, but I did. It was goddamned annoying. A vibrato of breath. He needed to blow his damned nose.
“Out with it,” I blurted. “Whatever it is, just say it.”
His face scrunched into a grimace, taught and troubled. He sighed and the tension was released. “My superiors told me to outsource this, but it was my choice as to who; I needed a few moments to decide whether or not I could trust you.”
“I trust you,” I lied; I didn’t trust anyone. How could I? People were insincere, untrustworthy and selfish. So was I.
“Are you serious?” said Suede. “You just tried to blackmail me!”
I took another sip of the coffee. “That’s just a bit of gentle ribbing between friends. Banter.” The two cops could be useful, at least sometimes, and I needed them on my side. “I would never really reveal your secrets; we share secrets from last year, remember.” I was laying it on a little thick; I needed to dial it back before I lost him. “Besides, I’ve known you and Johnson for a while now; you know me, and I know you.”
The man opposite me raised an eyebrow. “There’s a difference between acquaintances and friends, Mr Gemini.”
“Jack,” I said. I suddenly realised I didn’t know Suede or Johnson’s first names. Maybe I’d known at some point; they might’ve told me, but I was probably drunk at the time. Almost certainly drunk.
“Fine, Jack, but that doesn’t mean we’re friends.”
“Are you going to tell me now?”
Suede nodded, slowly.
“And?”
“I’m going to ask you a favour,” he said. “You’ll get paid for it; fifty percent more than the usual contractor rate.”
“Seventy-five,” I said.
“Deal.”
“What? Really? I was pushing my luck there; I didn’t think you’d actually agree!”
“We can go back down to fifty, if you’d like?”
“No, no,” I said with a grin. “Let’s keep it at seventy-five. I’m happy with it; I’ll need to take time away from my other cases to help. Like this missing statue case for Queenie. And Mrs Lafferty’s missing cat.”
“All we want is a small favour I’m about to ask of you. That’s all. Nothing else. Nothing dangerous.” He cleared his throat. “At least, it shouldn’t be.”
“You just want to keep me out of the way,” I said. “Out of trouble.” I leant forward. “I’m a busy man so this better be good.” I drained the remnants of the sickly coffee; the cup echoed with a hollow thud as I placed it back on the metal table. “I’ll still be looking into my other cases; I’ll just shift my main focus to whatever this goddamned favour is. You still haven’t told me.”
“Understand this,” said Suede. “This favour, you can’t get yourself into any trouble, any danger while you undertake it.” He moved closer and stared right into my eyes. “It has to be low key, quiet, discreet. Do you understand me?”
“No, I don’t! You haven’t told me what you want me to do!”
“I want you to find someone and keep them safe. That’s why you can’t do anything risky. Understand? It’s vitally important that you do not put this person into any danger whatsoever!”
“Who? Who do I need to find? And how long for?”
“Just until Dionne Bex is out of her coma.” The detective finished off his own coffee. “Or until either me or Johnson take him out of your hands. The problem is we don’t know exactly where he is.”
“Who?!”
Suede ignored me and continued. “He was last seen heading into Sector Eight; caught him on security camera footage from about three weeks ago.”
“Who?” I repeated, with more urgency.
“He’s partially estranged, and no-one at the company has had any real contact with him, as far as we’re aware.”
“Goddammit!” I slammed my fist on the table. “Who?!”
“Regan Bex, son of Dionne Bex.”