Chapter Sixteen
I was, surprisingly, the first person into the office the next morning. I'd gotten up and gotten dressed quickly, pulling on the first outfit I could find. Kali was already awake by the time I rolled out of bed and she offered to make breakfast, but I declined, telling her I wanted to get to work as fast as I could.
She didn't seem terribly impressed, but Kali had given me the envelope with the sub-dermal photos anyway. I told her to help herself to whatever, kissed her cheek and headed downstairs. Envelope in hand, I set about turning on the lights and getting the office ready for business for the day, although I had a sneaking suspicion that Trixie had been turning away all potential clients in the past two days. Once we were “open” I spent an ungodly amount of time fiddling with the coffee machine in an attempt to create the life-giving beverage. I nodded in satisfaction as the coffee began to percolate and I retreated into my personal office to wait.
We'd left all of the files spread out on my desk in our haste to leave the day before, but I noticed that the take out containers had been cleared away. Whether that had been Kali or Trixie, I couldn't say, but I appreciated the attention to detail that having girls around brought.
I flicked the lights on in my office, grinning to myself as the pleasant hum of the electricity filled the room and I sat down behind my desk. I resisted the urge to put my feet up, this was serious business. Carefully, I opened the envelope Kali had given me, afraid that I would somehow manage to ruin the pictures inside. I was pleased to discover that the sub-dermal images had been printed on thick photo paper and that, unless I took a pair of scissors to them, I likely wouldn't be able to ruin them. Kali knew me far too well. I had been expecting flimsy X-rays or something, not crime scene photos.
I flipped through the pictures, almost unsure at what I was looking at. I could see the gears clearly in the imprints, but just because they were there didn't mean that I was looking at the same victim. Before I could toss the pictures aside in frustration, Kali appeared in the doorway, knocking gently on the door jamb.
“Hey,” I said simply, looking up at her. She'd stolen a navy pair of my slacks and a belt instead of wearing the skirt she'd had on last night. I was a little disappointed, the skirt was just short enough to leave everything to my imagination, but I had to admit that she filled the slacks out much nicer than I did. She was still wearing her own black shirt from the night before, but it was unbuttoned and the lacy camisole she'd worn underneath was fully visible.
“I brought you breakfast,” Kali replied, holding out a plate from my kitchen laden with toast and eggs and a set of cutlery wrapped in a napkin.
“Thanks,” I took the plate awkwardly, still holding the pictures. I stared at the plate for a long moment. I hadn't realized that I'd even had eggs in my fridge.
“You figure out anything with the sub-dermal images yet?” Kali asked, moving around the desk to stand next to me.
“Not yet,” I admitted, setting the pictures and the plate down on the limited space on my desk. “I'm actually pretty glad that you're here to help me make sense of what I'm looking at.”
Kali leaned over to point at the pictures I'd placed on the table.
“Well, this is an image of the marks on the Doctor's neck,” she explained. “They're all bruises made from the killer's hands around the victim's neck.”
“Okay, so how will this help me?” I asked, trying very hard not to look down Kali's shirt. I was a professional, after all.
“If you bring me someone with a robotic hand, I can match the gears up with the marks on the corpse.”
“Actually?” Jackson asked from his spot in the doorway.
Neither of us had even heard him arrive.
Kali smiled up at Jacks. “Definitely!” she assured him. “I'd have to have the implant in front of me to position properly and match up with the marks on the body, but it's easily done.”
“So like, you can prove that it wasn't me just by matching up the marks on the body with my implant?” Jackson asked.
Kali nodded. “Yeah, it's pretty simple,” she explained, moving behind me. “So basically, the killer did this,” she spun my chair so that I was facing away from her and she placed her hands against my neck. “And then snapped his neck,” she gently motioned a neck snapping motion, turning my head to make her point. “So where the killer's hands were placed on our victim's neck, there were imprints, bruises basically, that give me a clear image of what the implants looked like.”
Jackson nodded. “Cool.”
“Yeah!” Kali agreed, ruffling my hair as she let my neck go. “So I can see that your hand isn't entirely mechanical, so you're automatically ruled out,” she continued, returning to the pictures on the desk and spreading them out as she leaned over again. “See here? This is the heel of the killer's hand. You can see that it's mechanical, not solid. And the gear imprints here?” she pointed out another picture. “Definitely not the same as your hand, Jacks.”
Jackson nodded again, a frown tugging at his lips. “Can you identify the implant based on what's available on the market right now?”
“Not really,” Kali admitted. “I'd have to see it in front of me to be a hundred percent sure, but based on the imprints, I would guess that it's an older model, three years old, maybe? No flesh covering and no after-market upgrades that I can see.”
“That narrows it down considerably,” I mused.
“Oh, and your killer has had both hands replaced,” Kali added as she stood up again a self-satisfied grin on her face. “Blaze, you want a cup of coffee?” she asked me as Jackson and I exchanged impressed looks.
“I'd love one, thanks,” I replied.
Kali nodded and went back into the main room to get coffee.
Jackson closed the door and stared at me, crossing his arms over his chest as he did.
“What?” I asked, taking a bite of my toast.
“Kali is wearing your slacks,” Jackson pointed out smugly.
“Yeah,” I replied, my mouth full. “She spent the night last night.”
A slow grin made its way across Jackson's face. “Oh really?” he drawled.
“Yeah.”
“Did you tell her that you love her?” Jackson teased.
“In not so many words.”
“Please tell me you got lucky at least,” Jackson begged, flopping down into what I had come to think of as his chair. “You've been so uptight lately it would do you a world of good.”
I didn't say anything, instead I focused on my eggs and piled them onto the other piece of toast Kali had brought me.
“Oh my God, Blaze,” Jackson sighed. “You've been dizzy with her for years and you had her up in your apartment and you didn't do anything?”
I shovelled my toast and eggs into my face to keep from saying something that I would regret – or that would most likely be overheard by Kali and result in me getting slapped. I offered a one shouldered shrug in Jackson's direction instead and finished my breakfast in silence.
“You are the master of self control,” Jackson teased, clearly trying to get a rise out of me. “I mean, seriously, you've had a crush on Kali for as long as I've known you and you finally tell her, and nothing? Wow. I'm impressed.”
“Just because you are a slave to your hormones, Jackson, doesn't mean that I need to be,” I muttered, glaring daggers at him.
Jackson gave me a sarcastic little salute. “You're getting too old for romance, aren't you?”
“Shut it,” I warned, tossing toast crust at him. “It's not like that.”
“Not like what?” Kali asked, returning at a most inopportune time with coffee for both of us.
I waved my hand dismissing the question as Jackson picked toast crumbs from his black suit. We'd unintentionally dressed all in black today and I was considering changing, but figured it didn't matter that much.
“So what's your next step?” Kali asked, handing me a mug of coffee.
“We're gonna go through all of these files and find all
of the patients who had been treated by Doctor Jones who have two mechanical hands,” I said with a sigh.
“And then we have to go track them all down,” Jackson added, unhappily.
“At least Rose is officially ruled out,” I said smugly. “Told you she was innocent.”
“Who the hell is Rose?” Kali asked, defensively.
“One of the kids who works for Doctor Jones and his operation,” I explained quickly. “She's been volunteering for a while, we had to put the screws on her yesterday. She's basically running one of his halfway houses since most of the staff are bailing. And she's the daughter of Five Points Engineering's very own Doctor Arthur Tekla. ”
“Poor kid,” Kali sympathized. “That can't be easy. On any front.”
“Poor kids,” Jackson corrected. “Without Doctor Jones, it's looking like the whole thing he'd set up is on the verge of collapse.”
“Can't you go talk to Wayside?” Kali suggested. “You said that he was on their payroll, right? Obviously they think what he was doing is useful and worthwhile. So maybe they won't cut funding and find someone to replace him?”
“You sound interested,” Jackson pointed out.
Kali shrugged. “I'm a coroner. I'm basically a failed surgeon.”
Jackson barked a laugh. “You know that's not true.”
Kali grinned and shrugged again. “I don't have the bedside manner to deal with living people,” she explained. “Besides, working with kids? Not my thing. I make too many necrophilia jokes to be healthy.”
“It's something to consider,” Jackson pushed. “You know, get you out of the corrupt system, get you the hell away from Stringer, get you out and about and doing something helpful?”
“You're one hell of a salesman, Jacks,” I muttered.
“He has a point,” Kali interrupted. “I could see myself doing something helpful, kind of. I just don't think that I'd be qualified to tell kids that it's all right that they've messed themselves up in the first place. I don't agree with body modification for the sake of body modification. Although, I do have a soft spot for charity work,” she grinned again. “I will consider it, if the option becomes available.”
“That is really all that I can ask,” Jackson replied sincerely. “I'd do it myself, but I wouldn't know your anterior from my posterior.”
“That's probably because your head is so firmly shoved up your posterior,” Kali teased with a wink in Jackson's direction. She waved a hand over the front of her body. “That's anterior, roughly.”
“Ah, thanks,” Jackson replied, nodding, “I feel that I'm now fully qualified to take over in Doctor Jones' wake.”
I shook my head and sipped the coffee I'd made. It wasn't as bad as I had expected. “Okay,” I announced, setting my caffeinated lifeblood aside begrudgingly. “Let's look through these files and get this case put to rest!”
Jackson got up from his place and pulled the other chair that I'd left in the corner over so that Kali had a place to sit. We divided up the patient files and tucked in, each looking through our own stack and putting the ones that didn't match back into a pile on the desk. We worked in tortured silence. The air was tense between the three of us, we were all praying for something to jump out of those files and slap us in the face. We needed to find the killer fast. There was too much riding on this to let us relax more than we already had. I was almost wishing for a good old fashioned car chase or something, just to break up monotony of sitting behind my desk.
I wasn't sure how long we sat there in silence, flipping through pages upon pages of medical records and implant logs. We managed to make a huge dent in the suspect pool, though. The pile of potential suspects dropped from over a hundred, to a handful of thirty.
“That makes things easier,” I admitted aloud as I counted the files. “Then, ten each if you wanna help us, Kali?”
Kali stretched her arms over her head, yawning widely. “I dunno, Blaze. I should really consider heading home and enjoying my day off for a few hours.”
Jackson chuckled, shaking his head and giving me a look that said that I was an idiot for not giving Kali a better reason to stick around.
Whatever. I wasn't worried. After all, I had a proper date with her on Friday, assuming that I didn't die of boredom while investigating this case.
“When we find the guy can I call you for confirmation?” I asked.
Kali nodded. “Yeah. If you find this guy you'll be taking him into the precinct anyway, right?”
I shrugged. “Assuming that I don't have to shoot him on sight? Yeah, I guess so,” I hated the idea of Stringer getting the credit for my arrest and my progress on this case. Just the thought of his smug face made me want to punch something. And I still owed him one for the now healing bruise on my face, and an even bigger one for the scratch on Nadia.
“Are you absolutely sure that don't wanna stay and help us?” Jackson asked as I wandered off into the abyss of my hatred for Stringer.
“I'd love to, but I think you've got most of this covered now, haven't you?” Kali replied, hedging the question. “You're now qualified to be a surgeon, you have a contact to seek out at Five Points and I'm just a distraction. I mean, really, if it gets dangerous I'd rather not get in the way of you two strapping detectives. I don't even own a gun.”
“I'm sure Jackson has a spare if you want,” I said, snapping out of my miserable thoughts at the mention of guns.
Kali snorted a laugh. “Thanks, but I really will pass on this. I'm pretty sure that can live my life comfortably without following you guys on one of your insane missions.”
“Suit yourself,” I replied, upset by the fact that she didn't want to come with us. I wouldn't have let her go anywhere alone anyway. I was feeling mighty protective of her, and this case was getting weirder by the minute. I didn't need any innocent blood getting spilled on my watch.
“Can we keep these photos for reference?” I asked, as Jackson started picking up the files that matched what we were looking for.
“Yeah, those are copies. I have the originals in my office back at the precinct,” Kali assured me.
“You have an office?” Jackson chimed in. “I thought you just lived in that laboratory of yours.”
“That's my office,” Kali admitted. “And the morgue is my lunch room. I tend to keep my perishables in an empty drawer. It's a perfect temperature in there for cold cuts.”
Jackson's face curled into a look of disgust and mild horror at the thought of Kali keeping her lunch next to dead bodies. I chuckled under my breath as I slid the photos back into their envelope.
“So you think you have this all under control?” Kali asked me, standing slowly and stretching her arms over her head again.
“I’m pretty sure that we can handle tracking down thirty kids in Hell's Kitchen,” I agreed with a nod. “Are you going home?”
Kali nodded. “I think so.”
“Jacks, will you call Leroy on the radio?” I asked, intending to snag a few minutes alone with Kali before she took off.
“Yeah, I think I can do that,” Jackson agreed, tucking the pile of folders under his arm as he stood.
I stood then, too, walking around my desk and falling into step beside Kali as she made her way out of my office toward the front door. Jackson slipped into his office with Trixie following behind, and I could hear him fiddling with the radio as she mumbled something incoherent. I appreciated the subtlety of the two of them giving me a moment alone. I could just imagine the conversation, though, probably laughing at my awkwardness. And somehow, I was all right with it.
“Thanks for your help,” I told Kali as she gathered up her things from the couch by the door where I assumed she'd dropped them this morning.
“Yeah, no problem,” Kali replied easily, grinning at me.
“Are we still on for tomorrow night?” I asked, feeling more awkward by the moment. It was weird and unfair that I still felt like a high school kid every time I was around her. Damn my social ineptness.
“You promised me a nice dinner,” Kali reminded me. “You aren't getting out of it unless you're dead or in jail without the option for bail.”
I nodded once, an assurance that I'd be there. “I hadn't forgotten,” I promised with a grin.
“Good,” Kali replied bluntly. “Thank you for breakfast.”
“You can come over and cook breakfast anytime.”
Smooth, Blaze. I mentally berated myself. I was beating myself up in my own head and kind of hoping that Kali would punch me in the arm for that comment, the way Jackson was so fond of punishing me for the stupid things I said.
Luckily, Kali thought it was cute or something. “Yeah, I just might,” she replied, still smiling.
Apparently, awkward crushes can transcend even well beyond your high school years, and I wasn't terribly popular in high school, either.
“I should get going,” Kali said abruptly, making the awkwardness even more pronounced. “Lots to do and I'm just burning your daylight.”
I nodded mutely, and moved aside for her to pass. Kali gave me another little smile as she reached for the doorknob, just as the door swung wide open.
“Oh hey, Rose,” I said amiably as the petite girl walked through my front door. “We were just talking about you.”
Kali gave me an unimpressed look. I wasn't sure if it was jealousy or concern, but she wasn't happy with the unannounced arrival.
Rose nodded. “I came to let you know that my father is expecting you this afternoon,” she announced. “But um... I have something else that I need to tell you I guess?” Rose stared at Kali for a long moment. “In private?”
Kali huffed a breath heavily. “Yeah, sure.”
“Rose, meet Kali, she's a consulting doctor for me,” I introduced, forcing the women to at least acknowledge one another as important to the case at hand. “She's helping us track down the owner of the mechanical hands that killed Doctor Jones.”
“Yeah, about that...” Rose said hesitantly.
“Do you need to come inside?” I asked, realizing we were all standing in the front doorway.
“In just a moment,” Rose agreed. She slipped back out the door for a moment. Kali and I exchanged worried glances. Something wasn't right about this whole thing.
“Yo! Jacks!” I called.
Jacks peered from the doorway in his office. “Leroy will be here in ten,” he told me. “Relax.”
I curled my finger, beckoning my beloved partner over sarcastically. Jackson sighed and walked across the room as Rose walked back into the office, with a boy I had never seen before in tow. The kid was taller than I was, and had more muscle on him than I'd expect for a kid who roamed the streets of the Kitchen. He was dressed in a baggy, hooded sweatshirt and dirty linen pants. He looked at me, and I noticed that his eyes were sunken and bloodshot. He was pale and sweaty, and it wasn't overly warm outside.
“Hi, Rose,” Jackson said gently, looking at me questioningly.
I shrugged.
“I'm so sorry to have to drop this off on your doorstep,” Rose began, holding the boy tightly by the arm with her clockwork hand. “I just didn't know what else to do. Taking him straight to the police didn't seem right, and I thought you might be able to help him better than that Stringer guy who's been claiming to be working on the murder investigation.”
“You've got some information that might help us find who killed Doctor Jones?” I asked the kid.
He nodded sullenly and held out his hands, both clockwork implants. “I killed Doctor Jones.”