Our signal.
The building in front of us looked like it had been bombed out: busted windows, holes in the roof, one entire wall torn out.
“Wait here.” I threw the half-smoked cigarette on the ground and stepped on it, then walked toward the source of the sound.
I grasped the handle of the rotting wooden door and pushed. The sound of creaking hinges filled the space. Inside, it was dark; the other end of the room was almost pitch black. I closed the door behind me.
Seconds later, a blinding light pierced the darkness, causing me to recoil. I raised a hand to shield my eyes. Once my eyes had adjusted, I tried to focus. Squinting, I made out a lone figure sitting in a chair with hands folded, one leg resting on the other. The chair was a luxurious one, with dark wood and red cushions, a real antique far older than either of us. The industrial lights shining in my direction made the darkness even darker, obscuring her face and upper body, but I could see the legs of several of her people hiding behind her.
She must have been waiting for some time, or perhaps she’d had other clients earlier.
“We never have these talks anymore, Elias. I’ve missed you terribly.” Her voice was throaty but still unmistakably feminine. She could have been a singer, but she’d had greater aspirations than that.
“Afraid I can’t say the same for you, darling. I do appreciate the tip you gave me, though.”
“I’m the Eye of New York for a reason. I see everything.” She huffed with laughter, amused by her own name. “It was the only information we could find, unfortunately. Our reach extends far, but we have our limitations. And intelligence sometimes works against us. Our sentries are afraid to skulk by the 5th. One buzzer and they panic.”
“Then get better men … or whatever you use.” I pulled out another dart and bit onto it.
A shadowy figure emerged, blue lights in its eyes shining as it raised a match to light the cigarette for me. “Thanks, bud.”
“Smoking again? You only smoke when you’re nervous.”
I didn’t answer, puffing away to prevent myself from instinctually throwing it down. “What do you want?”
“You have yet to deliver, Elias. This shouldn’t be hard for you. You’ve done jobs far harder than this one so many times before, and far quicker. Perhaps you’re getting old?” I couldn’t see her face, of course, but I had a feeling she’d smirked.
“I’m fine, darling.”
“Or maybe you’ve been emotionally compromised? I’ve heard that you’re quite obsessed with the other Redeye killer being a Swinger model. We both know how you take coincidences.”
“Don’t start.” I paused when I heard her chuckle, but she allowed me to continue. “We met one of the perps, but the other two are supposedly in hiding. They’d formed another racketeering ring deeper than the one Stern was running. They split from him in ’27, so as far as association goes, it’s as dead an end as we can get.”
“And the only reason you know that is because of me.” She tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair impatiently. Her patient tone wavered a bit. She must have taken my last comment as an insult. Now I felt a cold sweat creeping over my body.
“Look, I’m not here to make excuses. I’m here to say that if you want this solved cleanly, I need more time and more information. Besides, I didn’t factor you of all people into this case. I thought this would be easy, open and shut. Pop a few rounds and everyone goes home laughing. But when I saw the Red-eye’s empty head, I got suspicious. As soon as I saw Jaeger, my gut didn’t like it one bit. And then, when you decided to give me some charity finding Stern, I knew this started and ended with you and your ragtag group of Brunos.”
She stood up and walked past one of the lights. Her silhouette dragged across my field of vision. Long hair worn down, sharp chin, broad forehead, lips like the best of dames’. She could kill you with looks and guns alike. In the dark she leaned over and whispered something to one of her associates, and the scurrying sound of shoes against concrete echoed as they ran out of the room. I caught the hint of a shimmer on her arm. Perhaps it was a bracelet, or maybe she’d decided to do some Aug-ing. She’d never give me the satisfaction of knowing.
She returned to her chair, resting one elbow against her knee and leaning her head in her hand. “Did you dispose of Stern?”
I hesitated. There was no hiding things from her, though, so I might as well save her the trouble of looking. “I let him go. He’s out of the city by now.”
A loud crack rocked the room, and I nearly jumped out of my britches. One of the arms of her chair was reduced to a misshapen twig. I stared as her hand relaxed and released the tangled mess of wood.
“You had explicit instructions,” she said through clenched teeth.
“And I told you I’d take care of it. But not everyone has to die to solve a problem.”
“Maybe in your line of work. Not in mine.” My calm responses were beginning to make her voice rise in volume and harden in tone.
“Maybe if you stopped putting hits out on every poor bastard that gave you a mean look on the street you might see that this could be a setup. Those two dirty cops might be innocent.”
“Innocent? Of the murder? Or of cutting in on my business?”
“Maybe both.” I dropped the cigarette, my backbone returning. “This has the scent of G-men all over it. This Masters guy … he knows how Automatics work, forced some poor guy to modify the towers at GE, and his name has been
