Gray Night (28 page)

Read Gray Night Online

Authors: Gregory Colt

Tags: #private investigator, #pulp, #fbi, #female protagonist, #thriller, #Action, #nyc, #dark

 “What time?” Argento asked.

 Jack seemed just as surprised the man spoke as I did.

 “Between seven-thirty and eight am,” I said.

 “What is it?” Jack asked, turning to Argento.

 “End of the month accounting was this morning. Lewis was an hour late,” Argento said.

 Jack considered that for a moment. “Well, seems there’s a simple solution to be had. Let’s see what Lewis has to say for himself and then we’ll settle matters. One way or the other.”

 “If I were him, I’d be long gone by now,” I said.

 “Argento, please check on Carson and Lewis. Fetch them back here would you,” he said, keeping his .45 on me. It still bothered me that he seemed to know a good deal about me. He knew enough to stay prepared to kill me in an instant if it came to it. Smart. I took it as a compliment.

 Argento walked to the back offices. I noticed when he opened the door he raised his machine gun to his shoulder and slowed down.

 “Interesting choice,” Jack said after a minute. He indicated the hammer. “I want to say I’m disappointed to see you without a gun again, but the hammer was quick. Clean. Efficient.”

 “I’m happy you approve.”

 He gave the ghost of a grin, then Argento came back without Carson or Lewis.

 “Carson’s dead. Throat slit. No sign of Lewis. His car’s gone,” said Argento.

 “Ah, Lewis,” Jack shook his head.

 “Any idea who he’s working for?” I asked.

 “Vitale, of course. Everything not mine will eventually be traced to him,” Jack said, before looking back at me. “Did he truly take the doctor?” He sounded sincere. Argento shook with rage. I hated thinking of a criminal with genuine concern and compassion for anything. Of course, that might be misdirected. Pot, kettle, black.

 “This morning outside the diner just like I said. Pointed me straight at you.”

 He lowered his weapon and nodded. “I would never act so overt and ham-handed, but from your perspective I suppose I see the logic.”

 “That’s real good of you,” I said. “So where do I find Vitale?”

 Jack screwed up his face in disgust. “I don’t know. Believe me, he wouldn’t be a problem if I knew where to find him whenever I wanted. For anyone. Ever.”

 I did believe him. For all the good it did.

 “What about finding Lewis? Where he lives, where he shops, friends, family…no. No one betraying you for so long would leave any evidence of what they were doing without being found out before now,” I thought out loud.

 “Aye,” agreed Jack.

 “What about your people in the police department? Could they find his vehicle?”

 “Oh my, Mr. Knight, aren’t we becoming cavalier with the law,” Jack said.

 “Yeah, well, I’m already illegally parked, so what the hell.”

 Jack leaned back, steepling his fingers in front of him, thinking.

 “No. That could take days and I don’t like to involve anyone else with internal business.”

 How the hell was I going to find him? Again? Damn it! I had him and let him go for Jack because I thought Jack was pulling his strings. He wasn’t. Vitale was. Somehow, it all fit together. Connections. Connections to the cold—increasingly warm—war between Jack and Vitale. I’d thought Lewis had taken Claire for Jack. It made sense in a way because of our connection to Jack. He’d spoken to us just yesterday. Kidnapping Claire instead of killing her outright was a message or maybe some way of taking me out of the game. Vitale couldn’t send a message if I didn’t know it was him to begin with. I suppose he could take me out of play by making me spend time looking for Claire. Maybe hoping I’d go to Jack and they’d take care of me for him. But it was a big risk because if Jack didn’t kill me I’d end up pointed right at Vitale. Which is what happened. Major crime bosses didn’t stay in power long by taking those kinds of risks. He could have easily killed me and Claire with no witnesses to point anyone anywhere. For that matter, Jack could have done it that way too. So, what was I missing? What didn’t I know yet? What didn’t fit yet?

 “If I said,
Gray Night
, what would that mean to you?” I asked Jack.

 “Gray knight says to me someone with questionable morals or ethics employed to whatever they see as a good end. A damaged hero perhaps. A gray knight is also a business term for an individual, or other entity, that enters a hostile takeover as a third party, at the last second, to undercut the two main rivals. Gray night is also one of the many names I have heard concerning a new synthetic drug becoming popular in our fair city.”

 “Let me guess, Vitale’s introduced something new and so popular it’s hedging you out of business. I’ve heard traditional dealers are going missing. I’m guessing it’s the reason your cold war has gotten hotter and territorial lines are changing hands faster than ever.”

 “So it would seem. Par for the course, Mr. Knight,” Jack said.

 “I assume you spoke with the medical examiner about Reenan?”

 Jack nodded.

 I told him what I knew of how Gray Night worked and about the bodies being found. I even told him about the attacks, both in the abandoned warehouse and at the office, by something different.

 None of it phased him.

 “I’ve heard things. Things about how the addicts attacked people on the streets at night. Vitale’s numbers have grown of late and I have men disappearing. The ones we find have been injured as you described. It’s not a coincidence.”

 “What was Reenan working on when he disappeared?” I asked.

 “Looking for the traitor. He and Argento were the only two I trusted. While Argento looked internally, Reenan took it from the other direction.”

 “Investigating Vitale’s organization for links back to one of your own,” I said nodding.

 “Just so. Last week he came to me. Didn’t have anything concrete, but wanted to check out a lead on his own. Said he didn’t want to say anything and cause suspicion and distrust amongst us until he was certain. As I said, I trusted him. He knew what he was about. Could take care of himself. I never thought twice about it until his body washed ashore.”

 “No idea what he was working on?” I asked.

 “No, but whatever it was brought him into contact with Gray Night addicts.”

 “Or one of the others. One under more control.”

 “You think it would only take one of them to handle a professional like Reenan?” he asked.

 “Yes,” I said without hesitation. “They’re dangerous, Jack. I had help during both of my encounters and still barely escaped. Escaped, Jack. As in trying to run away,” I said putting as much meaning into it as I could.

 Jack and Argento took a slow look at the men against the wall where more than half were still hobbling and moaning. “That,” Jack finally said, “is not good.”

 “You think?”

 “Either way, Vitale is responsible,” Jack said, replacing concern with anger.

 “Damn straight,” I said. “Vitale, you know him better than I do. What will he do with Claire?”

 “If she was taken then there must be a reason. I don’t know what that is, but he’s dramatic. A real showman. He likes to do everything with an audience. The bigger the stage the bett—” Jack stopped and dug an envelope out of his pocket.

 “I have a proposition for you, Mr. Knight,” said Jack in a brighter voice.

 “Going to make me an offer I can’t refuse?”

 He rolled his eyes. “You held out longer than I thought.”

 “I was hoping to catch you at lunch, but it was a long shot you’d be having cannoli,” I said. “What is it you propose?”

 “As payment for services rendered, I offer in exchange my knowledge of Vitale’s schedule for the day.”

 “What happened to not knowing where he was? And what’s this services rendered business?”

 “I don’t know where he is, but,” he tapped the envelope, “I know where he’ll be this evening.”

 “And you just now remembered? Don’t play games with me, Jack.”

 “No, I figured him out. It’s a clever plan. Probably means it wasn’t even his idea,” said Jack with a wicked grin. “As for the other, well, you are due payment for succeeding in identifying and flushing out the traitor in my organization.” Diamond Jack took one step closer and leaned in. “Just like I hired you to do yesterday at the examiner’s office.”

 I understood then. He couldn’t just give me the help I wanted, even if it benefited him, since I came in trashing the place and making demands in front of everyone. Criminal organizations are like packs of wild animals. The clever and strong rule while the others wait for a sign of weakness to pounce and take over. That’s how Diamond Jack and Joe Vitale got to where they were to begin with. And, at least Jack, knew it was always one of the ways he could go out as well. Therefore, I had to be seen playing ball. What Jack proposed was my actions being said to have been part of a ruse to get Lewis. Then I barged in when no one knew where to find Diamond Jack and no one who wanted to would attack with less than lethal force. It was believable and clever enough Jack might even have actually planned it. Which I guess he had sort of. That was quick thinking on his part. He now had a reason to give me the information I needed—finding Vitale to save Claire—and he got an ally to go against Vitale. All while saving face in front of his men. Note to self, Diamond Jack’s intelligence now upgraded from clever to scary.

 I hated the idea of him spreading it around that I worked for him, but it’s not like my reputation was sterling anyway.

 “I accept under one condition,” I said, trying to think if there was anything I was missing.

 “Yes?”

 “I assume Vitale has something already set up by how you keep waving that envelope around. I also assume you think he’s planning a trap and you want to spring it and turn the tables on him.”

 “It’s a fair assumption,” he grinned.

 “Then my condition is you help me find Claire and, if possible, help me get her out. I need your trust, for today at least, and you need mine. If we pull this off everyone gets what they want, but I even think for a second you’re considering betraying me or Claire, or cutting us loose, or abandoning us, and I’ll kill you.”

 Jack looked at Argento and the big man glared at me before giving a short nod.

 “I have nothing against Dr. Spurling and would much prefer her removed from this nasty business in an agreeable manner. We will hold you accountable to trust as well, and if you get the girl out quick and leave me or mine to the wolves, I will kill you.”

 I nodded and ran my hands through my hair. It wasn’t much of a plan, but at least I had a direction. It was something.

 Jack tapped the envelope on my shoulder for me to take. I did so and opened it. There was a large, fine printed card inside. An invitation made of vellum. It read:

Diamond Jack

You are cordially invited to

The 22
nd
Auction

To be held

Sunday evening

At 9:00pm

Location details to be provided

At 8:00pm

 Of course the Auction! I knew it was this evening and I knew Vitale ran it. How had I forgotten about it?

 “Ummm, because you’ve had a busy morning,” I said to myself. No more mistakes Knight. No more mental slips. Six hours, Adrian. Use them wisely.

 “What’s that?” Jack asked.

 “Sorry, talking to myself,” I said. Now I had a plan. “There’s someone else I need to bring. That all right?”

 “As long as you understand they are your responsibility and they are obligated to our arrangement,” he said.

 “Cool. I have an idea.” I told him what it was.

 “I assume you have things to prepare?” he asked.

 I nodded. “Back here by eight?”

 “Yes. I’ll have everything in place by then,” he said.

 The door from the hall to the front lobby opened and the two men I’d first met hobbled in still piecing together their handguns.

 Jack looked at them then arched an eyebrow at me.

 “You shouldn’t let them go around with those on them, they might get themselves hurt,” I said.

 “Well, well, what’s this?” he asked.

 I couldn’t help myself with such a straight line. “A crippled newsy took ‘em away from them. I made him give ’em back.”

 “There is hope for you yet, Mr. Knight,” said Diamond Jack.

 

Chapter Twenty-Six

 The taste of mint in my mouth clashed with the smell of bleach and urine in an endless struggle for sensory dominance. My wrists and ankles were chaffed and sweating beneath the leather straps that pinned them to the side rails of the bed I was in. Where was I? I jerked and twisted trying to get up, to get out, to simply move.

 I could move, some, but not get out of the restraints. It made me nauseated. I laid there, in the open, pinned down and exposed. Vulnerable in a way foreign and unnatural; every part of my body knew it and disapproved. The dark room limited my sight to only a few feet. The only light came from covered vents high on the wall.

 I had to get out. I had to get out right then. I growled and jerked at the straps one more time. Why couldn’t I remember anything? And what was I wearing? I lifted my head as far as I could to see. It was a hospital gown. Someone had undressed me. I dry heaved with visions of what all had transpired while I was unconscious. I laid still and closed my eyes to focus on my body for feelings of pain or discomfort that shouldn’t be there. I didn’t find any. That was something I guess.

 I wasn’t hurt. Not physically that I could tell. But, I’d been taken, hadn’t I? My head felt full of cotton balls and I couldn’t focus. I had gone out to get coffee and was attacked on the sidewalk. Why couldn’t I remember? How much time had gone by? Was I just now waking up? Had I woken before, but couldn’t remember?

 I tried sitting up again. It didn’t work. I twisted to the side and slid an elbow under me to lean on, then jerked forward to bring my other elbow under me. Ha! Yes. I could raise my head more.

 I saw a tray beside me I hadn’t noticed before. On my elbows I could see it covered in various instruments, most of them used needles and syringes and knives—oh god.
Oh god!

 I had to get out. I stretched my neck over to bite the tray and pull it close enough to get the nearest scalpel with my teeth. Once secure I spit it out beside my left hand. I stretched until it hurt again to get my fingertips around the handle. The second I grabbed hold of it I attacked the strap pinning my left wrist, stabbing and sawing at the stitches with what little force I could exert.

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