Screwball waited until Mary left. She’d gotten fed up with the admittedly kinda nutty schemes they were dreaming up, read her grandfather the riot act over their finances, and then left in a huff, leaving them both behind, neither the wiser for having had their “thinking caps” on. With the old man in his cups, sunk into the big chair behind his desk like he wanted to be swallowed up, Screwball figured now was as good a time as any to come up with something brilliant. Or fake it.
“It seems to me,” he tried again, “that time’s against us here. You’ve got a lot of money, but it sounds like maybe not a lot of income. Does Angelica have much from the casino, though?”
Feeney snorted. “She’s run the damn place into the ground, she has. But she’s got the chop shop, too, remember. Makes some decent cash off that, a chunk at a time.”
Screwball considered that, and a dim little light lit in the back of his head. “If she had something big down there, she wouldn’t want McMasters sniffing around, would she?”
Feeney shook his head in a loose motion, the exaggerated gesture of a drunk man. “No. We always paid the law pretty damned well to push off. Officially the mechanic’s bay is...” He snapped his fingers a couple times.
“Out of service?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, boy. Out of service.”
“So, if Ditz shot some of her people near the mechanic’s bay, she might just sit on it?”
Feeney’s eyes focused on him hard, and for a moment he thought the old man’s drunkenness had just been a put-on. “That’s what I’d have done. Unfortunate, but cost of doing business.”
Screwball frowned. “So... if she’s got something big, she’s going to want to hold out until she can make some money on it. How long’s that take?”
“Depends,” Feeney said, and shrugged. “If she knew she was coming into some treasure – and I usually didn’t, back in my day – she would have arranged a scrap trader well ahead of time. Wouldn’t make it a rush job, though. Getting through that,” and here he stumbled a few times to get out the words, “ablative plating – God – that takes a while.”
“What if we got word to McMasters?”
The white eyebrows went up. “Are you seriously asking me, what if we told Tom McMasters that one of the sides he’s been soaking for cash is about to come into a lot more money than the other? Good God, boy, are you trying to get me run out of here? Don’t think of him as the law, son. He’s not. I’ve dealt with the law all my life, mostly crooked, some honest. He’s neither. He’s just a craven son of a bitch with a borrowed badge, and his job’s to keep a lid on things.”
“What about the real law, then?”
Feeney waved a hand dismissively. “The real law doesn’t give a splattering shit what goes on in this station, not unless it makes them look bad.”
“What if we can fix it so it makes them look bad, though?” Screwball leaned in. “Look, this is basically piracy, right?”
“That’s debatable...”
“Angelica’s doing it, not you.”
“Oh. Yes, good old-fashioned piracy and no mistake.”
“What if we got proof and sent it off? If it’s juicy enough, they’ll come, right?”
“Surely, but they won’t limit themselves to just her. Once they’re here, they’ll burrow in like a tick. They’ll be on my case, too.”
Screwball shrugged, smiling. “You’ve dealt with the law all your life. And you’ll know they’re coming.”
The old man leaned back in his chair, elbows on the arms, fingers laced. He stared at his knobby knuckles. “There’s something to that, my boy. You’d have to get in there, though, and you’d have to make sure Angelica never knew. If she thinks the jig is up, she’ll have plans to hide the loot.”
“I can get in there. Ditz knows that place like the back of his hand. Him and Nuke used to go down and smoke up with Sparks.”
“Him and Wilfred, eh?” His eyes went unfocused for a moment, and took on an odd look. It lasted only a moment, and he shook his head. “A more dimwitted, dangerous pair, I’ve never known. Their pal Raj went with them, you know. Good boy, Raj. Shame he was loyal to his sister after all. Only really loyal man in the whole goddamned station, I think.”
Screwball was surprised when the old man came out of his chair fast. He walked across the office, steadying himself against the furniture and muttering that he’d had more to drink than he thought, good stuff, and first he locked the door. Then he strode to the side wall, and at his touch a wood-grain panel at chest height slid open. The dull gray box inside looked like an old-fashioned safe, and even had an old-fashioned dial.
“I don’t mind you seeing my little toy box,” he said absently. “But you ought to know that I’ve made damned sure that anyone who tries to force this open will have one hell of a bad day.”
It came open with a click, and he started to reach for something near him, then stopped. He got a sly smile on his face, then reached his forearms all the way into the cavity in the wall. He stepped back and cradled in both hands a small metal box. Slowly, he carried it to his desk and made a great show of setting it down with a surprising thump despite the care he showed.
“If Mary knew I had this, she’d pitch it into space.” He chuckled. “Maybe me with it.”
Screwball started to chuckle along with him, but Feeney silenced him with a glare. He struggled a little with the four mechanical catches, but persistence won out and the top half of the box came open like a clamshell.
Inside a soft gray lining that fit it exactly lay a conical metal object. Feeney stood and stared at it, almost in awe. Screwball could smell the strong alcohol on his breath still.
“What is it?”
The old man didn’t look at him. “It’s the black box from a police deep space cruiser. Very sensitive, and it can defend itself, I’m led to believe. I’ve hung onto this for a very long time, yes.”
Screwball just gazed at it. It didn’t look like much, but it seemed like he ought to be impressed.
“When they say that one is bringing out the big guns, this is what they mean,” Feeney said in a low, almost reverent voice. “Do you know what wasps are? They’re stinging insects, little flying things, a great deal like police, really. Nasty enough little things on their own, but if you crush one, they swarm. Police are like that, too, only armed a lot better, and meaner. Once you activate this, they’ll come flying, and only a copper can deactivate it.”
“Won’t McMasters do that?”
“If he’s stupid. They watch for these signals in their big telescopes. If he turns it off, he’ll have some explaining to do.”
Screwball started to feel excited, but he tried to tamp it down. Something about the whole thing felt off. “Aren’t they like indestructible?”
“I don’t care about destroying it, boy, I care about setting it off. The minute it goes off, it starts scanning and broadcasting. I couldn’t get rid of it fast enough if that happened – literally. I don’t know what it would find out about me, and I don’t want to know. But if this were to find its way into the chop shop... Well, the mechanic’s bay is well away from anything else. I made sure the surrounding areas were rented up. Angelica’s cleared them out even more. Nowhere else the signal could have come from, understand?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Now, it’s easy to activate manually. A good thump might do it if you have to throw it and run, but otherwise if you, ah… hmm… if you pinch these two plates at the top, I’m told that will put it on a countdown timer. If thirty minutes go by and nobody pinches it again, off it goes. Got it?” He flipped the lid back down with a snap, and Screwball jumped.
“Yes, sir.” He frowned. He was pretty drunk, but he didn’t understand why a police black box would need a countdown timer.
“I don’t think I need to tell you that you want to be very far away from that thing when it activates. God knows what it’ll, ah, scan.”
“What are its defensive measures?”
“Eh? Oh. No idea. Don’t stick around and find out, though.”
“No, sir.”
A look of brief annoyance flashed across Feeney’s face, until he realized that Screwball was agreeing not to stick around. Feeney put his hand on the box and looked Screwball in the eye.
“Do not let Mary see this, under any circumstances.”
“Right, sir.” He swelled with slightly alcohol-enhanced pride at the trust he was being given.
“Go alone. If you get caught with this, we’re all in a heap of shit. That means especially,” and he pointed with a swaying finger when he said: “Don’t bring Ditz.”