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We’d all retired for the night with hardly a word.
‘We’ wasn’t exactly the truth.
Queenie had taken my bed, which she’d refused to share with me, and I’d lain the drunken and unconscious Regan on the sofa to sleep off the buzz.
I’d had no such luxury.
I’d been forced to use, barely sleep in, my goddamned bathtub with only a couple of cushions for comfort. Comfort. Ha! It was at times like this that I regretted giving absolutely no thought to the interior design of my apartment. Maybe I should’ve gotten a pull-out sofa bed; a bed to share with Regan. No. That would’ve been wrong. But comfortable.
Damn it.
I’d tossed and turned all night, snapping in and out of deep dreams of green circles and blood, past loves and death. I’d dreamt of Augustus Smith, the Emerald Killer, and I’d dreamt of Sam and Jill.
I woke, or rather become so uncomfortable that I could no longer stay curled against the hard ceramic of the tub, with a yawn and a groan. Everything hurt. My back, every muscle in my body, my head, my heart. The wounds in my shoulder and side felt like the crossbow bolt and knife had stabbed me once more, fresh. I hurt. I felt like I’d been put through the wringer. And I couldn’t work out whether it was from the alcohol or the lack of sleep. Either way, I still hadn’t recovered from the hitman’s attack a couple of days ago.
Some pain meds would do the trick and I was, thankfully, in the room where I kept them.
I clambered to my feet and out of the bath. Every part of me clicked and creaked. It was not pleasant. I opened the cabinet and reached inside for a bottle of pills.
I paused.
A long time I ago I used to keep something precious in here. It was gone now. My wedding ring had been lost along with the other me, the other Jack Gemini. I think it was in an evidence locker somewhere. Or a landfill.
His death, as well as Jill and Sam’s, had been the cost of taking this life, taking his life as my own. And I needed to live with that. I needed to live with this fake life. I sighed to myself. I needed to get over it, get over myself.
Live.
I’d moved on.
Or tried to.
I grabbed the bottle of pills and an injector pod the hospital had given me. I’d managed without them the last couple of days, moved through any pain, but now, I really needed them. I tipped a couple of pills into my throat and ducked down to the tap to wash them down with some water. I jammed the injector into my arm and sighed as the strong analgesic flooded my bloodstream.
I should’ve taken some of the drugs last night, to knock me unconscious. At least I would’ve slept somewhat.
And not dreamt.
I relieved myself and exited into the office space, which I needed to cross to get to the rest of the apartment, the kitchen and the bedroom.
I needed coffee and lots of it.
I was greeted with an empty sofa; Regan had gone.
There was a message from him on my SmartBoy telling me he’d be back later today; he was going to get his credentials from his own place and sort out a few other errands.
There was no sign of Queenie either, at least not an awake Queenie; she was still asleep in the bedroom. I snuck into the kitchen and brewed myself an extra strong coffee.
It didn’t have a chance to hit the sides, so I brewed another.
I took some time to enjoy this one, moving back to the office and my desk. I sat, easing my aching muscles as the painkillers and caffeine kicked in. Smoke. I could smell smoke and stale alcohol. My senses were returning to normal, and the evidence of my habit was all over my clothing; it stank. And now, I craved more. I reached into the jacket pocket. Yes. I pulled out the rectangular packet to much internal fanfare and retrieved a cigarette from the pack.
Caffeine, nicotine and pills were the perfect mix to kick start my morning.
I took a deep drag and blew out a large cloud into the office.
“You told me you’d quit,” said Queenie. She was standing in the doorway between the office and living space, holding her own cup of coffee. “Another thing you lied about.”
I didn’t respond. I’d known I wouldn’t be able to hide it; I was smoking in my own home, and she was here.
“What was the name of that trollop you brought home?”
“Edward,” I said. It was probably for the best that I didn’t tell her who he actually was, or who his mother was. “He’s helping with the case.”
“And that involves drinking?” She slunk further into the office. Queenie had wrapped herself in a padded dressing gown, but I could still see her curves through it. Or at least the impression of her curves. Exaggerated. And fluffy. Like a sexy sheep. The woman curled herself into the chair opposite. She hugged her cup in her hands and took a sip. “Quite a lot of drinking.”
“Stressful night. We were just blowing off some steam.”
“I hope that was all you were blowing.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d be giving me more grief than this.” I exhaled a plume of smoke to my right, away from the woman opposite. “You’d don’t usually approve of my lifestyle.”
“I don’t.” She tucked her legs up under herself. “And the grief is coming. Just delayed. I’m too tired; I was up most of the night sorting out invoices for Flare.”
“Oh.” That explained why she was outside the apartment at that time of night.
“So, what were you doing last night? Are you actually going to tell me?”
“Making progress with your case, believe it or not,” I said. I downed the last bit of my coffee and wanted more, but my gut told me that if I moved from this spot, I’d be in trouble. Queenie looked like a predator, coiled and tense, ready to pounce; the cute and downy fur of her gown was a guise to trick me. “I think I know who’s behind the theft of your statue.”
“You mean the Delartes.”
“Yeah, that.” A sudden image of the detestable, tentacled monstrosity flashed in my memory. I’d almost forgotten how disturbing the thing was. “Rumour has it that a high-profile con artist came to the station about nine or ten months ago. Got themselves a face change.” I took another drag of my cigarette and directed the lungful of toxins to my right again.
“Face change?” Her face scrunched up in confusion. Face changing was something I’d have thought she’d be familiar with, given the hoity toity art circles she’d ingratiated herself with.
“They completely changed everything about themselves,” I said. “Complete restructuring of the face, even down to the bone. Microsurgery on the skin and features, eye colour changed. Ears. You name it, it can be changed. A cosmetic procedure so nuanced that you wouldn’t even be able to tell anything had been done.” I took a final puff on my cigarette and stubbed out the filter on the desk. “The next big step up from a face lift. And with none of the tell-tale signs.”
“Sounds expensive.”
“It is, but the credits they’d get for the Delartes on the black market would dwarf the cost of that sort of procedure.”
She sipped at her coffee. “Anything else?”
“It’s not even been a week, Queenie,” I said as I lit up another cigarette. “This case is goddamned bad news! I’m lucky to be alive!” I took a small drag. “At least two people have tried to kill me since the day I took this on. And so far, there’s one dead assassin and another in custody.”
“You mean they got one of them?”
I nodded.
“And?”
“Just confirmed my suspicions on the perpetrator. It seems it might be a con artist called ‘The Victor.’ That’s all I know.” There was more I hadn’t mentioned, such as the apparent connection with Tribeca and the Church of the Third Encounter.
“Is that all?” The woman glared at me.
“Is that all? Is that all?!”
“Yes, is that all?” Her legs dropped to the floor, and she sat forward, placed her cup on my desk. “There’s more going on with this Edward guy. You told me he was helping with your case, but you’ve never had a sidekick before. And you’re against having a partner; you’ve told me that so many times. Since you took on my case, I’ve caught you smoking and drinking more than once! That was something you promised me you’d stopped!” Queenie got to her feet. “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?! Fucking about, like you did with Sam, and with Jill. You’re despicable, Jack.” She picked up the empty cup, screamed, and threw it to the floor. It bounced, rather pathetically, before hitting the ground again and smashing to bits. This was the grief she’d been holding off on, the shitstorm I’d caused with not treating her as I should. “Tell me, Jack. Tell me the truth; don’t lie.”
Something clicked in my head, something I’d been told. “Lie? Do you really want to talk about lying, Queenie?”
“What...?” Her face and chest were red, eyes watering, a little breathless.
“When you left, I’d wanted to apologise, wanted to tell you how sorry I was. And do you know what I found out instead?”
“Don’t start with your empty platitudes and,” she waved her arm in the air at me, “your inane intentions. You didn’t apologise. You...”
“You were at your sister’s place, yes?” I leant back in chair and took a long hard drag of my cigarette. I tried not to grin.
“I don’t see what that has to...”
“You don’t have a sister, Queenie!” I sat forward. “You lied. You lied, Queenie! You told me you were staying at your sister’s, and you weren’t. You lied! Where were you? Were you fucking someone else? Cheating? Drinking and smoking? Being a goddamned hypocrite?!”
“Fine!” she said. “I lied! I don’t have a sister!”
“Where were you?”
“I don’t have to tell you anything.” She took a step back and returned to her seat. “You know, Jack, sometimes one needs a bit of time alone.”
“Alone, ha.” I blew out some smoke, not caring to redirect it away from her. Not anymore.
“I wasn’t cheating. Trust me.”
“Trust? You want to talk about trust? Then tell me where you were.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“We’re in a relationship, Queenie,” I said. “It’s all about give and take.”
“Are we, Jack?” She sighed. “Are we really in a relationship anymore? You spend so much time working that I sometimes feel like we’re merely acquaintances. We never see each other.”
My jaw dropped. “I’ve been working... for you!”
“You’ve barely found out anything, Jack.” She folded her arms. “I honestly thought you’d put your all into this case. It was meant to be a favour. To me. The woman you’re seeing. But no, you couldn’t do it, could you? You couldn’t put your all into it, just like you couldn’t put your all into our relationship.” She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Jack, I don’t know what we’re doing together. Instead of going off galivanting with handsome young men, how about you focus on me, for a change? Pull your finger out of your arse and find my missing statue!”
“What do you think I’ve been doing?!” My cigarette had burnt out. I relit the tip and took a drag. “Yes, I’ll admit that it hasn’t had my complete attention but there’s a good reason for that!”
“What good reason?”
“I can’t tell you,” I said. “It’s none of your business.”
“Ha! You talk about trust, but you refuse to let me on your little secrets.”
“It’s called client confidentially.” I realised my voice was condescending, but I really didn’t care anymore. “A trusting relationship, just like you and I had.”
She shook her head. “There’s no need for sarcasm.”
“Listen, I’ll find that goddamned hideous statue if it kills me. I promised, didn’t I?”
She huffed. “I’m going to stay another night at the hotel.” The woman unfurled herself. “I need some space.”
“Not staying at your sister’s?”
“Shut up, Jack.”
And with that, she left me. Again. She didn’t even bother to get dressed; she just packed up some clothes, put on some shoes and left. No more words, no more arguing. She didn’t even look at me as she slammed the door. And I didn’t try to stop her.
I stayed where I sat, enjoying a cigarette and waiting for her to leave so I could make myself another coffee without any awkwardness.
I stared at my closed front door, thinking.
Queenie had been right about one thing; I really didn’t know what we were doing together. We needed to call it a day. End things. But not yet; it wasn’t the right time. There were crimes to solve and bad guys to catch. I’d tell her I was done with the relationship when we were done with her damned case. Then I’d hand her an invoice for all the work.
I stood and stretched, catching a whiff of myself and the olfactory evidence of a night of drinking and smoking; I needed a shower and some fresh clothes.
And another coffee.