Angelique Harper gave me everything she had on her brother, mostly what I expected, a lot of paperwork and some personal information about his routines and habits. I reviewed the police report a few times and placed some calls into my contacts on the force, the ones that were still talking to me at least. It was probably a good thing that I told her this was going to take a while because this was bothering me a little bit.
That realization hit as I poured myself the fourth scotch of the morning. Marion’s life was sprawled out on the bar in paperwork. Our dear Marion was quite the character actually, the Harpers were full of them with Angelique being the most normal out of all. A rich family from up North with fingers spread out into more pies than you could imagine and a flare for showing their wealth and influence off. Angelique and Marion’s parents though made some bad investments and perhaps some not-so-legal decisions that fell on their heads in their twilight years, leaving the kids with considerably less money and nothing but their educations and good looks to empires off of.
Wait, does she have enough money to pay more or does she intend not to…oh well, have to wait and find out. She better be glad she’s a little more than easy on the eyes. I can’t afford too many dud jobs right now. I sighed and downed the scotch as I heard sirens passing by the outside of the bar.
Marion didn’t have an arrest record. That made me nervous too, people who are too clean often shoot you in the back in dark alleyways with “Lucy in the sky with diamonds” playing in the background. No, I’m not bitter.
The few things my sources did find on Marion’s past were really small or swept under the rug by friends. He looked like a politician in the making until he spent a few years traveling the world and fell off the grid. The only pictures I could find of him from that time period were with a bottle in one hand and a topless model on the other. Sure must be nice. Maybe he was just having mid-life crisis or something.
It looks like he settled down when he got back though, spent some time with his dying father and got a real job at some small firm as an analyst. He tried to open up his own firm but got head-hunted by Siredyne a few years back. This was interesting and all but it meant shit if I couldn’t find the motive. I needed to figure out what Marion saw that put him in the line of fire. My only options now were to take the address he has on file and check out his place, or march my happy ass into Siredyne and see if they’ll be kind enough to tell me, right.
The wooden double-doors moved and let bright white into the room that was lit only by red and blue Christmas lights. Amanda stepped into the bar with sunglasses on and a piss poor disposition. Her jeans hung low on her hips and her face possibly hung lower.
“You’re here early.”
“Yeah,” she said with a defensive eyebrow raise.
“You’re usually at least twenty minutes late.”
She threw her bag up on the bar and lifted the old grey hoodie up over her head, revealing her work attire.
“Wait, sunglasses but no hangover,” I was perceptive when I wanted to be.”You’re early to work and wearing the extra low-cut white top, could this be about a girl?”
“No,” she shot back as she checked the cash register.
“So a guy? A cat? Are you just on your-“
“Dammit,” the word never held so much frustration. “Yes, it’s about a girl okay.” She threw one of the dirtied bar rags at me. “I got stood up last night by a hot professional type, think she was a doctor or something.”
“Think she might not be a lesbian?”
“Oh screw you,” she said pulling a cigarette from the pack behind the register. I only saw her smoke when she was really agitated. “I could have had a sugar-momma, woman like that could make a wife out of me.”
“Right, I’ll remember that.” I reached for my coat. The old brown duster was cool to the touch and a personal favorite of mine. Not only did it make me look like a bad-ass, it worked wonders for concealing my gun. I had a license and all but the old silver Colt .45 seemed to make people nervous, especially when you’re waving it around threatening someone’s bits. “I need to go out and check a lead, hoping it’ll get us some money in.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she said wiping down the bar as the first two customers we had seen in several nights came in.
“Welcome folks,” I said tipping a non-existing hat to them as I caught the closing door with my elbow and headed out to the street. Fuel exhaust and the smell of old baked goods hit my nose and I paused, looking up at the mid-day sun with a squint.
I turned down the alleyway between the bar and the arts complex with my head down and hands in my pockets. My mind was on Marion Harper and what kind of Pandora’s Box I could possibly be opening up by asking some tough questions at Siredyne, if it came to that. I almost dropped a brick as my heels skidded to a halt.
“Mr. M,” that little toad scared the shit out of me. “You snuck up on me; I guess I was looking right over you.”
“Always the comedian when rent is do, aren’t you Mars?”
He was a short little imp with a permanent snarl and a rather large nose. The brown suit he wore was most likely bought from the cheapest store he could find, along with the fake hair piece that looked like it was put on wrong this morning. He was a sneaky little creep though, I guess because of his height, and he was quiet too. What really bothered me were times like these though when he was just staring at me with that lazy brown left eye that looked like it was just hanging limply waiting for someone to give it a lift back home.
“Oh, is it that time already?”
“Don’t be coy,” he said as he slammed his pointer finger into my chest, I winced slightly at the pain and a lot at really not wanting him to touch me. “That check better be in my box in a week or I’m kicking your ass out of that shithole you call a bar.” He jerked his thumb to the alleyway to motion where his office was, as if I could forget. That was part of what made it so hard to avoid him. His rickety little shack of an office was in the alleyway behind our bar and he owned several of the surrounding buildings.
“I wouldn’t dream of you not getting your money,” I said trying to slip around him. “I’m actually on my way to a job right now.”
“You’re a bum.”
“Right…so you’ve said.” I began walking as he talked. I didn’t have time for another one of his lectures. Next there would be a back in my day line and twenty minutes would somehow magically pass. “Have a good day Mr. M.”
“And tell your wench to stop giving me the oogley-eyes!”
I raised an eyebrow at the last part but the hell if I was going to start up a conversation. Maybe Amanda could sweet talk him, how I don’t know. It’d be like putting two angry badgers in a room with one…whatever badgers like, I don’t know. More important things to think about than badgers or metaphors right now, Marion’s apartment was up town and I’d need to catch the L-train and hot foot it up three blocks. I wanted to get there before dark.
Uptown looked like a completely different city. It’s as if the grey cloud and piss odor just decided not to cross 75th street. The buildings get higher and so do the gas prices. It’s almost as if the people are nicer and the trains run quieter along the rails above you. So, why didn’t I like it here? I’ll take my run down street and my dilapidated bar any day.
Marion’s building was on one of the corners of the high rent area with its own doorman. I knew he was loaded but this place was ridiculous. I certainly didn’t look like I belonged here. I could have probably slipped the door guy some money to get in but as I said, poor is being generous for what I am right now.
I slipped around the side instead. The building had a restaurant on the bottom floor, which to my advantage had two doors with people constantly coming in and out of them. I picked up a produce box and did my best to look like I belonged. I’ve found that confidence can get you into a lot of places, or at least convince people to not ask you why they don’t recognize you. They seemed busy in the kitchen anyway with the clanging of pots and the steam from the dish cleaners. There was an elevator just out of the side door and that was where I left the half-empty box of produce, after I took an apple from it. Free food is hard to pass up, I didn’t eat a lot mind you but why look a gift in the mouth.
The elevator doors slid open to tan walls and ornate hanging yellow lights on the hall. The wood stained trim lined the walls as I looked around and got my bearing on the apartment numbers. I took a large bite of the green orb enjoying the bitter taste against my mouth. It made me want a drink. I’m not an alcoholic; I’m sure you’re thinking it.
E2. That was Marion’s apartment. I took another bite of the apple as I looked over the door and noticed the scratched paint around the edges of the knob. It had been broken. I wasn’t the first one here and whoever came before me probably already took everything worth a shit. I sighed and tossed the apple in a near-by plant fixture. I pushed the wooden door with the peep-hole open to the left side to take a look in first.
There were two lights on, one in the kitchen and a lamp by the long windows that looked out over the city and the sun that was preparing to set. The furniture was mostly overturned with the cushions slit open and gutted. Paintings were torn off the wall and several parts of the carpet had been ripped up in the main room. This guy—or guys—were thorough. I shut the door behind me in case anyone passed by. Scratching my head as I moved into the bedroom I noticed the portrait above the bed, one of an old sea faring ship, had been tossed off and cut open but left behind it a grey wall safe that stood open.
I didn’t have to get much closer to see what I expected, cash, a jewelry box lay open with an expensive engagement ring, and some papers that were probably insurance policies and deeds of sale if I had to guess. Lots of valuables to go to the trouble of opening a safe and not take. Just more evidence that this wasn’t a robbery, Marion found something and now Siredyne, or whoever else is involved, wants it back. At least I was on the right track. Even if I wasn’t ready to walk my happy ass up in there and make a spectacle without having anything to show, I knew I was on the right track.
That’s when I heard the noise, had we not been in such a quiet room I would have been in a lot more trouble but I moved just in time as the object flew quickly past my head. The metal stuck into the wall next to the window, a six pointed star with a jagged curve in the design. Ok, so even if I had doubts this, this would have gotten rid of those.
The figure slipped from the closet in a black suit and white collared shirt with a heavy trench-coat wrapped around his shoulders, his face shrouded by one of Marion’s black scarves he had wrapped around his face. In his right hand was another silver star that reflected lightly in his brown eyes.
“Wait, are you really a ninja?”
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