Blaze Tuesday and the Case of the Knight Surgeon (Special Edition)

Chapter Fifteen

  Leroy got us to the halfway house in the Kitchen in record time. It was late already and I really just wanted to get back to my apartment and invite Kali in for a drink and forget work for the rest of the night. I knew that wouldn't happen until we had at least a reasonable lead in this case though, and I was feeling the pang of jealousy knowing that Trixie and Kali were hanging out back at the apartments.

  “Stay here,” I told Leroy as I climbed out of the cab.

  “Sorry,” Jackson muttered as I walked to the door. “He's in work mode.”

  Jackson caught up to me easily and I opened the door to the halfway house. It was one of three older apartment buildings that Doctor Jones had bought in the Kitchen. The lobby was clean and had a desk like a hotel. I couldn't help but smile at the sight. The Doctor certainly had tried to make it as comfortable here as he could for these kids.

  A skinny young girl with no visible clockwork sat behind the desk and she eyed us skeptically as we approached. “You cops?” she asked immediately.

  “Private investigators,” I replied, pulling out my credentials and showing them to her. “I'm Blaze Tuesday, this is Jackson Early,” I added, as if she would know our names.

  “You're the ones Rose was talking to earlier?” the girl asked.

  I nodded. So word got around after all.

  “Yeah, Rose said you two were good guys,” the girl continued. “She said that you were actually interested in helping us all out here.”

  “As much as we can by finding the killer,” I admitted. There wasn't much else that we could do, if we were gonna be honest, but I wasn't gonna admit that to this kid. “Is Rose around?”

  “Yeah, I'll call her for you,” the girl assured me with a nod. She picked up the phone on the desk and pressed an extension and waited. “Yeah, Rose? Those detectives you talked to earlier are here.”

  There was a long pause. “No no no, not that Stringer guy, Tuesday and Early.”

  Another pause and a smile crept across the skinny girl's face. “Okay, I'll send 'em up,” she hung up the phone and grinned up at us. “Take the elevator, up to the top floor. Room five oh five.”

  “Thank you,” I said brightly. “You've been very helpful, miss.”

  The girl didn't offer her name, but she smiled and waggled her fingers at us as we went to the elevator.

  The door opened immediately as I pressed the 'up' button and we clambered inside. As soon as the thick metal doors closed Jackson grinned cheekily at me.

  “Oh, she likes you, Blaze,” he teased. “Maybe you oughta ask for her number?”

  “Shut it,” I snapped. “Or I'll hafta make some pretty chin music with you.”

  Jackson laughed. “You ain't got the chops, boss.”

  I grinned. “Try me,” I muttered as the elevator doors opened.

  Rose was standing in the hallway waiting for us. She smiled brightly as we stepped out of the elevator and shook us each warmly by the hand. She looked a lot better. Less pale. Whatever they'd done to her seemed to have worked.

  “How are you feeling?” Jackson asked immediately.

  “Better, thanks,” Rose said brightly.

  “What was wrong with you?” I asked.

  “Just an infected incision,” Rose replied. “They gave me some painkillers and some antibiotics and I'm already feeling a thousand times better,” she smiled. “Come on, my apartment is at the end of the hallway.”

  We followed her down the hall. The walls were painted a neutral brown colour and the floors were carpeted with some kind of industrial carpet, the kind that you see in restaurants and libraries. The doors were all shut and it was remarkably quiet in the building.

  “You live here?” I asked.

  “When I'm working, yeah,” Rose explained. “I work two weeks, take a week off, rinse and repeat.”

  “Where do you live when you're not working?”

  “With my parents,” Rose informed us as we reached apartment 505.

  “And they're okay with you working here?” I pressed.

  “Why wouldn't they be?” Rose asked, opening the door and allowing Jackson and I to go inside first. “I get credit for what I do and I’m making the world a better place. They’re just happy I’m not a Gearhead and that I’m doing something I’m passionate about, even if they’re disappointed that I’m not a doctor or engineer.”

  The apartment was nice. Doctor Jones had done a great job making sure that the kids who ended up here would be comfortable. If every apartment looked like this, I wouldn't blame these kids for wanting to stay. Beige carpets covered all the floors, except for the open kitchen, where it was linoleum. The walls were the same neutral colour and the furniture was all some sort of brown material that wasn't quite suede and definitely not velvet. Whatever, it looked comfy.

  “Nice place,” I said, impressed. “Do all the apartments look like this?”

  “Yeah, Doctor Jones wanted the kids who end up here to have nice things that they could be proud of despite living in a commune like this.”

  “You call it a commune?” Jackson asked.

  “Better than a halfway house,” Rose insisted. “Kind of gives the kids something to work toward, y'know? Gives them a sense of responsibility.”

  “Does it work?” I asked, settling myself on the couch.

  “Most of the time,” Rose admitted, closing the door but not locking it. “It at least helps with the sense of community and belonging. We get kids coming and going all the time. When they feel they've reached a level of health that allows them to get back out there, they go and reintegrate themselves.”

  “Just like that?”

  Rose shrugged. “There's a process and a support system, but it's probably not interesting to you.”

  “You'd be surprised,” Jackson piped in.

  Rose smiled again and crossed her arms. “I'm sorry if I'm being curt with you,” she explained. “It's been a long day for me. I'm really not in the mood to jaw with you all night.”

  “Your medical treatment didn't seem to take too long,” I pointed out.

  “I still don't feel a hundred percent,” Rose sniped back. “And since Doctor Jones has passed away I've been dealing with fifty terrified kids who are all whacked out and worried that they're gonna be tossed back onto the streets.”

  “There's fifty kids living here?” Jackson interrupted.

  “Yeah. There's twenty-five apartments and we house two kids in each. There's three halfway houses and all are filled to capacity right now.”

  A hundred and fifty kids all afraid that they're about to lose their homes because of one man's death. I felt my stomach drop.

  “That's not even counting the vagrants who pass through and sometimes crash here. Or the kids who only get treatment from the clinic and live elsewhere,” Rose added. “So you can see why I'm a little bit out of sorts and not terribly interested in chatting all night if I can avoid it. I have a lot of damage control to try to do.”

  “I'm sorry,” I admitted. “We didn't realize how many kids were actually counting on these communes of yours.”

  “No one really does,” Rose complained, her clockwork fingers clinking as she balled them into a fist of disappointment and anger. “It's an undocumented plague, no one pays attention to the kids in the slums who are addicted to having metal fused to their skeletons and are willing to risk their lives to get the next fix.”

  I nodded sympathetically.

  “Why are you in charge of damage control?” Jackson asked.

  “The other workers are jumping ship faster than vermin at the first sign of a leak,” Rose explained. “No one wants to be left holding the bag when this all comes crumbling down, and no one is willing to put in the effort that Doctor Jones had been to keep it all running.”

  “That blows,” I grumbled. This only reinforced my theories that people in general sucked. One good guy gets whacked and the other so-called good guys take off, proving that they were only there to take what credit they could get
for someone else doing all the hard work.

  “Why are the halfway houses under threat of being shut down?” Jackson asked. “Aren't the buildings bought and paid for?”

  “Yeah, as far as I know,” Rose replied. “But there's no one left to sign the pay cheques.”

  “I thought you were volunteering?” I interjected.

  “I volunteer,” Rose told me. “I'm one of the few,” she shrugged and I noticed that she didn't wince. The painkillers must have been working. “Doctor Jones always paid me anyway, but I would still have stayed on even if that wasn't an option.”

  “And your parents are okay with this?” I asked, getting back to our original topic.

  “That's the second time you've asked me that,” Rose pointed out. “Is there a reason?”

  “You said you're a Tekla, right?” I asked, getting right to brass tacks. “As in the Tekla family, major investors in Five Points Engineering?”

  “My family invests, yes,” Rose said slowly. “And my dad works directly for the company. Why?”

  “Did you know that you're technically working for Wayside Firms?”

  Rose's face contorted in confusion. “What?”

  “All of the Doctor's funding came from Wayside,” I explained carefully, watching her reaction. Five Points loyalty would make her react undesirably. “He had left the company when he started this whole operation and Wayside decided that yes, it was worthwhile to help him help these kids. They never announced it publicly, but they made sure that he had everything that he needed to make sure these kids were taken care of.”

  Rose frowned and sat on the edge of the coffee table, and I noticed that she was shaking. I wondered if it was shock, or anger.

  “So what's gonna happen now?” Rose asked after a moment, her voice was heavy with betrayal. She'd been lied to by omission. That had to hurt.

  I shook my head. “I honestly don't know,” I told her. “There was a big announcement made that both Five Points and Wayside have made some excellent strides in updating the implants procedures and stuff.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Rose admitted. “Dad is on the research and development team.”

  “The thing about that is that Wayside had offered Doctor Jones a contract to help them make sure that their new procedures were less complicated, less painful and more safe,” I informed Rose. “They wanted to make their products better. Once they were finished testing and approved, they were offering upgrades to all of the Doctor's patients for free. Every single kid who had ever walked through the clinic's doors would have gotten their illegal implants upgraded, everything would have been paid for. They were offering free medical care for the kids Doctor Jones was helping. Including surgery and medicine and if there were any complications or rejections, that would have been covered and taken care of, too,” I paused for a moment, watching Rose's reaction.

  Rose had gotten very quiet. She stared at her feet, frowning deeply. This hurt her. She cared for these kids. She cared about what happened to them. I decided that I would drive the nail home.

  “I think that this was information that got leaked to someone in a position of power at Five Points and that they didn't like it, so they hired someone to kill the Doctor.”

  Rose shook her head. “Impossible,” She mumbled.

  Loyalty. I sighed.

  “We have proof that the murderer was someone with an implanted arm,” I continued, pushing a little harder. “We know that Doctor Jones had his neck broken. We have a way to match the implant that is forensically sound. We also have proof that the Doctor didn't fight back against his attacker,” I told her. “This suggests that he knew who killed him. Rose, we have this evidence now. We can start looking at all of these kids, at least the ones with mechanical arms and hands. We're going to find out who did it.”

  Rose's head snapped up and she glared at me through narrowed eyes. “What are you suggesting?” She demanded.

  I shrugged coolly. “You have a mechanical arm,” I pointed out. “You worked for the Doctor. And you don't have a solid alibi for the day of the murder.”

  “You're accusing me?” Rose growled. “After all I've done to help you so far?”

  I waggled my head in a noncommittal manner. “If the glove fits, so to speak.”

  “How dare you accuse me! This is because of my family name, isn't it?”

  “The thought hadn't crossed my mind until you mentioned it,” I lied. “I was hoping that maybe you would be able to help us, maybe get us a chance to talk with someone at Five Points to get their take on the whole thing, but obviously you're too busy covering your own ass to help us,” I stood from my spot. “That's all right,” I said, nodding. “We'll be able to figure things out without your help. It's what we do,” I smiled. “But for future reference, covering your ass the way you are, doesn't really help your case of being innocent, does it, Jacks?”

  Jackson shook his head. “Not really,” he admitted. “Kinda makes one wonder why you can't remember your doctor's name, or why you won't share it anyway,” he shrugged and turned towards the door. “Thank you for the help you've given us so far, though,” he added as he walked across the room.

  I nodded my agreement. “We'll be back when we have a list compiled of all the patients who have clockwork arms and hands,” I assured Rose. “You'll be on the top of that list, too. So don't go running away now.”

  I followed Jackson toward the door, counting under my breath.

  One. I followed Jackson across the room.

  Two. Jackson opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

  Three. I had barely put my hand on the doorknob to pull the door closed behind me.

  “Wait?”

  We both stopped in our tracks and turned to look back at Rose inside the apartment.

  “Come back inside,” Rose pleaded. “I'll tell you what I can.”

  I glanced at Jackson and he nodded subtly in return. We both stepped back into the apartment and closed the door behind us.

  Rose heaved a sigh and ran her mechanical hand through her hair. “I didn't have anything to do with the murder,” she said quickly. “I was actually at a Greaser's place. That part wasn't a lie. It's a shitty garage on the South side of the Kitchen, attached to a tattoo parlour called the 'Poison Rose',” she bit her lower lip and wrapped her mechanical arm around herself, grasping her normal arm in her hesitation and embarrassment. “I wasn't having any pain when I went. I wanted to get some adjustments made to my arm,” she admitted.

  “Some after market upgrades?” Jackson asked.

  Rose nodded.

  “What did you want them to do?” Jackson pressed.

  “I wanted them to make me steadier. I wanted to get the upgrades so that I could help Doctor Jones in the operating room.”

  “Why didn't you just get the legal upgrades done?” Jackson asked. “Your parents work for Five Points, you wouldn't have had to wait.”

  “They didn't want me to get the upgrade done at all,” Rose explained. “They don't want me to go into medicine and they don't like the fact that I'm working here to start with. I didn't understand why, they're all for helping the Gearheads get off the streets and back into society, but now that I know this is all funded by Wayside, it makes a lot more sense.”

  “So you went to get the illegal upgrades,” I sighed. “And then it got infected?”

  “They didn't do anything to me,” Rose said with a sigh. “They ran a diagnostic and said that they didn't have the parts to make my implant steadier. They said that since mine was legal and top of the line, there was nothing they could do.”

  “So how did it get infected?” Jackson asked.

  “No idea,” Rose admitted. “I think it was just happenstance.”

  Jackson and I exchanged a look. Jackson nodded, he was taking the story at face value.

  “Well, we will be back to have a look at your hand anyway,” I said slowly. “We believe you, if that makes any difference,” I added. “But we need to completely rule you ou
t as a suspect.”

  Rose nodded.

  “And if there's any way that you could maybe...”

  “I'll get you an appointment with someone at Five Points,” Rose interrupted.

  “I appreciate that,” Jackson told her. “Thank you.”

  Rose forced a smile. “No, thank you,” she replied. “You two are the only people who have ever given a damn about this place, aside from us who are already here.”

  Jackson nodded. “It's too important to let fall apart,” he explained. “We'll do what we can to keep you afloat.”

  Rose nodded wordlessly and wiped tears from her eyes with her normal hand.

  I nudged Jackson with my elbow and we turned to get out of there before we made more promises that we couldn't guarantee that we could keep.

  We rode the elevator down to the lobby in silence. I felt like an ass. I made myself the bad cop this time. I was no better than Stringer, picking on innocent kids. I stole a glance at Jackson. He was frowning to himself. I think he was wondering just how much of the promise we'd made to Rose we would be able to keep. It wasn't up to us whether the halfway houses shut down, we didn't control the money and we certainly had to sway at Wayside.

  But we would find the murderer and get justice for Doctor Jones at least.

  I smiled at the girl at the front desk as we left, but didn't say anything. She didn't try to stop us, either, so that was good. Leroy was waiting for us right where we'd left him and we piled into the back seat.

  “Take us back to the office, please, Leroy,” Jackson said quietly.

  “Everything okay?” Leroy asked as he cranked the steam engine to life and started down the street.

  “Sort of,” Jackson replied. “But we can't talk about it just now.”

  “Okay, boss,” Leroy agreed with a nod. “You mind if I turn on some music then?”

  “Not in the least,” Jackson agreed.

  We fell into silence as the music filled the car. Jackson and I both stared out our respective windows, both wrapped up in our own thoughts.

  I paid Leroy well and thanked him for his services when we got back to the office. Leroy was a good kid, I was happy to have him in my employ.

  “You sure there's nothing else I can do for you tonight, boss?” Leroy asked as I handed him two hundred dollars.

  “Go home, get some sleep,” I told him with a grin. “Have something to eat and tell your girlfriend you love her.”

  Leroy nodded and tugged on the brim of his cap. “All right,” he said with a smirk. “I've got the day off tomorrow, so I'm all yours if you need me.”

  I nodded in return. “You haven't got a girlfriend, have you?”

  “No sir,” Leroy said with a laugh.

  “Go home,” I replied, patting the edge of the door where the window would have closed twice, an affectionate gesture. “You've done good today, kid.”

  “Goodnight, Mister Tuesday,” Leroy said before he pulled away.

  It was way later than I had intended. I hoped Kali was still hanging around, and that Trixie hadn't gotten her too drunk. Or vice versa.

  The office was shut down, just like Trixie had promised. I locked the front door behind me and pulled the shade over the window. I walked across the darkened office and I opened the door that led up the stairs to the apartments. Jackson had already gone upstairs. He was upset that we'd put the screws on Rose and made her cry. It was a hard thing to do and I didn't feel much better about it. I trudged up the stairs sullenly, suddenly not really caring if Kali was around or not. I wanted a drink and I wanted to go to bed and put an end to the day, hoping that tomorrow wouldn't suck as badly.

  Murder investigations were the worst.

  I arrived on my floor and ran a tired hand through my hair. The prospect of finishing that bottle of gin was sounding better and better. I stopped outside my door and hesitated. The light in my apartment was on and I frowned to myself. I was pretty sure that I hadn't left it on when I left this morning. I slipped my hand into my coat, loosening Nadia in her holster. Someone was in my apartment, I was sure of it.

  I reached out with my free hand and grasped the doorknob. Part of me considered heading back downstairs and grabbing Jackson before I went into my own apartment, just in case, but I thought better of it. It had been a long day and it wouldn't surprise me if Trixie already had Jackson out of his pants.

  “All right, Nadia, it's just you and me on this one,” I muttered, wrapping my fingers tighter around my gun. I turned the doorknob slowly and pushed open the door.

  I wasn't expecting what I saw when I opened the door. I stopped just over the threshold of my apartment with Nadia half drawn, my hand buried in my coat where I was holding her.

  My apartment was clean. All the books had been stacked neatly at the bases of my overflowing bookshelves. The newspapers were gone. My mail had been sorted and stacked on the coffee table. The kitchen was sparkling, no dishes were left on the counters and the whole room smelled of mild cleaning products. Kind of lemony.

  I slid Nadia back into place and stepped further into my house. I shut the door behind me, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

  “Hello?” I called. “Magical housekeeping fairies?” I didn't have a housekeeper and Trixie refused to clean up after me, unless I was messing up the office.

  Footsteps signalled the magical housekeeping fairy walking down the hall from my bedroom. I had to fight the urge to pull Nadia from her place at my side. People don't just break into your house and clean up for you without a reason.

  Kali appeared from around the corner, carrying the pile of folders from my bedroom.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked her, a smile unconsciously crawling across my face. I couldn't help it, just her appearance made me smile.

  “I was cleaning your apartment,” Kali said flatly. “I got tired of waiting for you and, while I love Trixie to death, making excuses to get out of her company is sometimes unavoidable. Especially when she's had a bottle of wine to herself.”

  I snorted a laugh. “What? Did you tell her that you were gonna clean yourself up and slip into something more comfortable?”

  “Something like that,” Kali admitted with a grin.

  I looked her over, I hadn't noticed what she was wearing when she'd arrived in the first place, but she was wearing a simple knee length black skirt and a black blouse that I was pretty sure was actually a man's shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She was barefoot to boot.

  I cleared my throat and turned away from her to avoid staring too long. I slipped off my coat and hung it up on the coat rack by my door. “Sorry I was gone so long.”

  “Don't worry about it,” Kali replied, crossing the room to the bar counter that acted as my dining room table and setting down the pile of folders. “You're busy, I get it.”

  I turned back to face her. She was leaning against the counter, a smile playing on her lips. I folded my arms across my chest awkwardly. She hadn't been to my place in months and she just spent the last hour cleaning it. I was embarrassed.

  “You really ought to hire a housekeeper,” Kali said, her eyes trained on me and dancing with mischief. “I don't think that you're qualified to clean your own place and it's my medical opinion that you might be suffering from obsession.”

  “You want a drink?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Not particularly,” Kali replied. “I was here for business.”

  Oh right.

  I still walked into the kitchen and pulled out a glass for myself. I got myself water from the tap, realizing that my mouth was dry. Kali had that effect on me. I gulped the water greedily before turning my attentions back to the woman in my kitchen.

  “Okay,” I said after a moment to regain my composure. “What did you bring me?”

  “Sub-dermal imagery,” Kali replied. “But I don't think you wanna have a look at the right now, do you?”

  I grinned. She always could read me.

  “Not really,” I admitted weakly.

>   Kali nodded and crossed the room, sitting on my sofa. She patted the leather seat next to her, an invitation for me to join her. I did without hesitation.

  “So who did you make cry?” Kali asked as I sat down next to her. “Or did you shoot someone in front of Jacks?” she asked, nodding towards my gun.

  “I made a kid cry,” I admitted sheepishly, leaning back against the couch and letting my head drop back in exhaustion. “I turned into the bad cop today.”

  Kali patted my knee. “It's all right. We all have days where we're the bad cop.”

  I grinned and lifted my head to look at Kali. “That's very nice of you to say.”

  “So, did you at least make some headway in the case?”

  “Kind of,” I admitted. “I have an audience with the big wigs at Five Points right away.”

  “You still think this was a murder caused by the Wayside rivalry with Five Points?”

  “I'm sure of it,” I said with a determined nod.

  “You can't bring Five Points down,” Kali warned me, gently. “Not alone.”

  I sighed. It wasn't about my personal dislike for the company anymore. It was about a man's death over money and technology. It wasn't even a crime of passion, it was a cold-blooded murder over money and power.

  “You're thinking too hard about it,” Kali said. “You need to relax, Blaze. You always do this to yourself.”

  “I know!” I agreed, shifting in my seat so that I could at her better. “I just can't stand to see these assholes get away with murder.”

  “You can't stop every murder. You're not a god.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “It's not about stopping them, it's about bringing them to justice,” I argued weakly.

  “And you will,” Kali replied. “But you can't be so hard on yourself. You get too involved.”

  “They killed a guy helping kids,” I pointed out. “That can't go unpunished.”

  “Do you have any proof that Five Points was behind it?” Kali asked reluctantly. She didn't want to blow holes in my theory, but she knew exactly what questions needed to be asked.

  I sighed. “Not directly.”

  Kali nodded. “Sorry.”

  I shook my head. “It's all right,” I assured her. “I need someone to keep me on track.”

  Kali laughed. “Well, as long as I'm more useful than just pretending to be your maid,” she smiled again and it was more intoxicating than the bottle of gin I'd destroyed the night before.

  “I appreciate it,” I mumbled.

  “Good,” Kali said simply. “Don't get used to it,” she added.

  “Which?” I replied lightly. “You cleaning my apartment, or you being useful?”

  “Both,” Kali teased. “I might not be around next time.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  Kali arched her eyebrow in my direction. “Oh really? And what do you have to say about it, Detective Tuesday?”

  I leaned forward and kissed her full on the mouth.

  She pulled away first and stared at me for a long moment.

  “Good Lord, Blaze,” she whispered, placing her hand against my cheek as she leaned back in toward me. “Took you long enough to finally say that.”