Rhuarc Black's Scrolls Index Page 4 страница

Blue eyes full of remembered pain and untold regret opened to gaze deeply into pale green ones. Amanda had to clear her throat to keep the tremor from her voice. “You sure, Canon? ”

Strong fingers flexed even as green eyes blinked slowly once. “Now, Detective... First, Mr. lawyer man here will tell ‘em boys o’ yours that I ain’t saying nothing. Then they gonna hustle a tad but ain’t gonna get nothin’ out of it. And then... then, Detective, the counsellor here... he gonna get your name off my shit. And you... you, Ace... you gonna get into that rustbucket you call a ride an’ you gonna get outta here. For good. Hear me, Ace? That’s the shit that’s gonna go down. ”

Amanda sighed as her head bowed low. “It ain’t gonna have to be this way, Canon. ”

The gentle touch against her cheek made Amanda raise her eyes. “That’s the only way, Ace. I gotta do what I gotta do. And you gotta go catch some punk-ass criminal. That’s the word, Ace. That the word. ”

Amanda blinked to keep the tears from falling but she could not stop herself from leaning into the still gentle touch. A soft caress of a fingertip against her temple and then Canon’s hand withdrew to rest once more on the table.

Amanda rose to her full height slowly, her eyes steeling with each passing moment. She looked down once but Canon’s eyes were half-closed once again, her face a blank mask. The tall detective turned away with a jerk. Slowly Amanda walked to the older detective, her hand extended holding the book closed.

As the older detective hesitantly took the book, Amanda spoke, her voice cold. “The page-marker is a message, detective. You’ve been played. She told them to hit her on the head. A half-decent lawyer will throw any testimony out of court in a heartbeat. You won’t match the writing. It’s with her left hand. But it may get you an edge... for aiding and abetting... ”

Amanda’s nod to the bug-eyed detective was small, almost perfunctory, before she walked purposefully to the door. Without a word, the detective opened the door, stepped out and let it close behind her. As the latch closed with a clang, the grey-haired detective turned to look at the woman sitting stiff-backed on the chair. A pang of sadness made his heart clench at the sight of the lone tear trekking down her cheek.

He was old enough and experienced enough to know he had just witnessed something private, something that his eyes were not meant for. He was old enough to know as soon as his gaze met the blank green eyes of the woman that this was all they would get. The game was over and they had lost the big fish.

His nod was a mere jerk of the head but it was enough as the prisoner’s lips curved in a tiny sad smile. He’d been there before enough times. Roberta Carver, aka Canon, once top hitter of the Red Cats had played the game and she had won.

He could only shake his head. He just wished he knew the story of it but he knew that he would never find out. That was the way of it and all he could hope for was a conviction on aiding and abetting. Three to five at the most even with Canon’s record. The old detective sighed once. Three to five was better than nothing.

**********************

“Fuck if I know” ~Canon

       Amanda took another sip of coffee to hide the tears that flooded her eyes. Canon had done three years in jail for that. She had never said a word. Not a word. Amanda did not need Canon’s confession to know. Snow was the woman Canon had been protecting that night.





       Amanda had never found out exactly what had happened. But she knew enough. It had gone well before that. Canon had lasted a whole year out of the game. But that night. That cold November night something had happened. Something that sucked her right back in.





       Blue eyes met blue for a single moment before a bodyguard’s heavy body severed the connection. Amanda was angry. She wanted to blame Snow. In a way it was her fault after all. If she had not lured Canon back into the life, maybe Canon would still be alive.





       But Amanda couldn’t. She wished she could. Yet the evidence before her eyes gave the lie away. Snow looked lost. Angry for sure and cold as always. But still lost.





       Amanda closed her eyes. Snow was not alone. She had seen the same look half-bewilderment half-lost child in Barbie’s eyes as well. Amanda knew she would see the same look if she looked at the mirror.





       The coffee had gone cold but Amanda drank the last of it regardless. With a jerk she stood up, walking the few steps to the garbage can. Amanda let the empty cup fall in without looking.





       She turned slowly, her jaw clenched. As she started walking, Amanda could see both the Kats and the Russians tensing. Carefully she let her hands stay limp at her sides but she did not stop walking.





       The Kats looked at her as she passed by them heading for the Russians. The lead Russian, a tall man with a drooping moustache stepped in front of Amanda blocking her way. Amanda looked at him impatiently for long moments.





       Snow’s voice was loud in the hospital’s corridor. “упустил ее”





       Amanda tensed at the sound of the order. It could mean anything as far as she knew.





       The tall man slowly stepped aside. Amanda watched him carefully. His gesture was clear as he motioned her on.





       Amanda nodded at the guard once as she walked through the Russians. They were watching her but Amanda did not look at them. She had eyes only for the white blue-eyed woman waiting for her to come.





       Barbie was standing at Snow’s side, her eyes darting between Snow and Amanda.





       Amanda refused to meet the Kat’s gaze. There was too much history there. And even after all this time, Amanda could still not face the unanswered questions in Barbie’s eyes.

       She cleared her throat waiting for an acknowledgement. Yet Snow remained cold, seemingly unconcerned, her eyes lazily roaming the corridor but never coming near to Amanda.





       Amanda took a breath. There would be no acknowledgement from Snow, that much was clear. She kept her voice low. “Thanks for calling me. ”





       Snow was slow in replying. “Canon would have asked for you. ”





       Amanda nodded carefully. She could not dispute that. As she could not dispute what Snow left unsaid. If it were up to her, Amanda would never have set foot in this hospital.

       Amanda shook her head. She would not get into that now. There was no point. “If anything changes call me... please. ”





       A curt nod from Snow was her only answer and Amanda closed her eyes to keep the anger from exploding. With a grimace she turned on her heel to leave.





       Barbie’s hand on her shoulder was heavy. “You’re going? ”





       Amanda turned slightly until she faced Barbie. “Yeah. I’m going to the scene. Make certain there are no... ”





       Amanda paused for a moment. “... complications, ” she finished.





       Barbie looked at her, her face hard, her eyes unyielding. “As you wish, ” she said with a shake of her head.





       Amanda spared Barbie a glance before walking away.















       Barbie kept her voice low. “I’m sorry, man. ”





       Snow’s lips creased in a small bitter smile. She just shook her head silently.





       Barbie nodded slowly. “Look. I’m gonna go have a smoke. The doctors come out, send one of ma girls. Right? ”





       Barbie turned to leave when Snow’s low voice stopped her. “Canon said you quit. ”





       Barbie turned back to Snow slowly. “Ain’t no biggie. ”





       Snow stood up abruptly. “Don’t. ”





       Barbie’s eyes narrowed. “What you say? ”





       A slim pale white hand gripped her arm. “Don’t. Please. ”





       Barbie shook off Snow’s grip as gently as she could. She hated people handling her. Yet Snow’s pale blue eyes held no compunction. “Why? ” Barbie asked hoarsely.





       Snow blinked, tears shining in her eyes. “She was so proud of you, you know. I think she told me like ten times. ”





       Barbie sighed, her breath catching in her chest. Snow’s voice was so sad it felt like a blow against her gut. “She hated it, you know. That she couldn’t quit. When you did it... ”





       Snow looked away abruptly. “ебать” she whispered.





       When she turned back to look at Barbie, her eyes were dry, her gaze hard. “Do what you will. No big deal, ” she said harshly, her accent hard.





       Snow did not watch as Barbie moved through the guards on her way outside the hospital.



       Her gaze seemed welded to the doors of the ER, hoping for a glimpse of something, anything.















       The pigs had lost her, Natalya was certain of that, there were no sirens in the distance and no heavy footfalls following her. Another time she would laugh in the darkness but not now. Now all she could do was walk on toward the sound of the waves she could not hear and the tall shadows of the cranes on the docks that she could not see, blood dripping off her nerveless fingers.





       Her good hand clutched the 9mm in a sweaty grip, her eyes feverishly looking around for people, it would not do to be seen. Anyone in this saint-forsaken country of law-abiding vicious drunks would report a bleeding staggering woman to the police. She walked on through the sparse cover next to the empty road, trying not to trip and fall over the slightly uneven ground.





       Natalya watched carefully as a woman stood, the wind flapping her unbuttoned jacket, her eyes lost in the darkness of the waves on the horizon, her breathing even. There was no one around, wherever this around was. Something whispered in the back of her mind about docks and Pollacks but the voice seemed too far away for comfort.





       She approached carefully, as silently as she could. “Don’t move, ” Natalya ordered digging the barrel of her gun into the woman’s back.





       As soon as the words registered, the woman stood stock-still except for the nervous narrowing of one eye.





       “Give me the keys, ” Natalya ordered and the woman complied with slow careful movements.





       Natalya snatched the keys from her hand.





       “Get in the car and don’t do anything stupid, ” Natalya ordered once again.





       The woman’s movements were smooth as she opened the car door and sat on the driver’s seat. No jerky trembling hands, even as a trace of a smile played on her lips. She stayed immobile, as Natalya staggered to the other side of the car and jerkily opened the door.



       As soon as Natalya closed the passenger door, the woman turned slightly towards her. Natalya did not wait for her to speak. The hoarse voice sounded odd in the closed confines of the car. “Drive! ”





       Natalya jerkily threw the keys at the hostage. Her hand snaked out and caught them in the air. Another trace of a smile appeared on her lips.





       The hostage turned on the engine and without a word or sound reversed and headed toward the road. She did not ask and Natalya gave her no instruction so she just turned left toward the highway and pressed down on the gas.





       The waves of pain threatened to drown her every time the car hit the slightest bump on the road. Still Natalya gritted her teeth against the pain and the waves of nausea that rose in her gut. Taking a hostage was never a good idea and she had to keep alert, especially since the woman she had found in the empty roadside behaved too strangely for her comfort.





       Even through the numbing effect of pain her mind had detected the strange reactions of the woman. When she had taken the decision to take her hostage after watching her look toward the dark water for long minutes, Natalya had expected panic, possibly even screaming. She certainly did not expect the calm and collected acceptance of her terse orders.





       Still that was not what had rattled Natalya, sometimes shock made people shut down instead of sending them into a panic. What had set her teeth on edge was her hostage’s fast reflexes in catching the keys out of the air and the shadow of a smile that seemed to play across the woman’s face every few moments. The suspicion was too strong to deny, it would be just her luck this night to take hostage a cop.





       For a moment Natalya debated asking her hostage outright but she rejected the idea immediately. If the woman was a cop, she would deny it for certain and, more importantly, it gave her an advantage if the woman did not know Natalya was on to her identity.





       The even voice brought a shiver down her spine. “Where to? ”





       “East. Go east, ” she replied with a hushed gasp.





       A nod was her answer. The car sped on, just inside the speed limit.





       A bump on the road made her breath catch as the pain cascaded.





       “Ya got to take care of that, ” her hostage said calmly.





       “Drive, ” she hissed in reply.





       The hostage barked a laugh. “Fine. Ya keel over dead, it ain’t on me. ”





       “Drive! ” she said through clenched teeth, the pain making the hand holding the gun tremble.





       The car sped on as Natalya tried in vain to fight the pain and the blood loss.















       Natalya woke with a gasp of pain. The voice against her ear made her pause in sudden fear. “Don’t move. ”





       Natalya’s hands tightened instinctively. It took her a moment to realise she was still holding the gun.





       The voice, finally Natalya recognised her hostage’s hushed tones, continued conversationally. “I’m cleaning ya up. Stay still. ”





       Natalya nodded against the bedspread. Her mind felt sluggish and nausea roiled in her gut. Her side sent hot lances of pain to her brain and it was all she could do to keep from screaming.





       “What are you doing? ” Natalya asked hoarsely.





       The hostage answered quietly in the odd lilting speech that Natalya recognised as belonging to the inhabitants of the city’s supposedly non-existent ghettoes. “I’m cleaning ya up. Looks to me like a through ‘n through. ‘Twas a clean shoot. Stitched ya right up. No biggie. ”





       Natalya felt the pat against her back as the woman slowly stood up, making the rickety bed move.





       “Where are we? ” Natalya asked, her breathing laboured.





       A short laugh answered her. “Some fucking town. Who the fuck knows? ”





       Natalya tried to sit up but the pain made her gasp, her head swimming. The flat of a hand against her back pushed her back down to the bed. “Get some fucking rest. Ya need to go to a doctor. I ain’t no surgeon. Patched ya up but that all I can do. ”





       Natalya’s grip on the gun tightened. She swallowed forcing the nausea down. “Why? ”





       Silence greeted her hissed question. Natalya took a deep breath, hissing with the pain. “Why are you doing this? ”





       The hand returned against her back, this time just lying there. The voice that answered her sounded odd. There was no teasing undertone in it, no sign of the even calmness she had heard from the woman before. “Fuck if I know. ”





       There were questions that need to be asked. Things she needed to take care of. Natalya panted against the scratchy bed spread. Only a few moments passed before she lost the battle with the darkness.

















       Snow blinked away the tears that seemed to spring to her eyes without her consent. Her eyes returned to the end of the corridor and the door to the ER. She watched the door for a few moments, before she turned away.





       She never looked at her men, guarding her. Nor did she spare a glance for Barbie standing with the rest of the Kats.





       Without thought her fist clenched. Snow moved her fingers, rubbing them with each other. Unthinkingly her hand opened, her thumb rubbing her ring finger.





       There was no ring there. It was foolish for people in her line of work to get married, even more foolish to have any visible signs of their associations.





       Snow blinked away the tears that sprang to her eyes once again. Snow wished she had been foolish. When there had still been time.





       ***********************





       “Nope. Not a citizen. ” ~Ace





       Detective Miles Edwards looked up from the filthy uneven pavement of the alley he was in. The hubbub of the officers and the CSIs around him faded over the thousand sounds of the city all around him.





       He sighed once. Slowly he turned toward the tall black woman standing just a step outside the police tape. He did not meet her eyes, instead letting his gaze roam beyond the tight confines of the alley.





       They were there, as they had been since before he had arrived. Too many years on these streets had taught him to see beyond the obvious. The two Kats sitting on a porch just opposite the mouth of the alley were obvious. There for all to see, black and red amongst the citizens.





       Yet Miles’ gaze was drawn to the two well-dressed white men standing seemingly unconcerned further away. In this mixed neighbourhood they should have been indistinguishable but Miles could tell they were players. He did not know for whom yet but he would find out.





       It was an open-and-shut case this one. Two good eyewitnesses, the evidence as he could see it supporting their statements. Even the two uniformed officers that had responded to the 911 call corroborated the witnesses’ statements. An open-and-shut case.





       The victim’s name had not rang any bells when he heard it. After all there were many Carvers in the city. The Kats gave him a clue. The appearance of Detective Amanda Lewis in his crime scene made him certain.





       She had not passed the police tape. She had been waiting for him patiently, clearly unwilling or unable to get involved. Miles sighed deeply. This was bound to become more complicated than he had wanted. An open-and-shut case, more like an open-and-shit case.





       Miles walked slowly toward Amanda Lewis, absently taking a cigarette pack out of his jacket pocket. By the time he ducked underneath the yellow police tape and stood before Amanda, he was already puffing on a lit cigarette.





       “Lewis, ” he greeted quietly.





       “Edwards, ” Amanda replied evenly.





       Miles flicked some ash from his cigarette. “Something I can help you with? ”





       Amanda looked towards the crime scene, white chalk clearly delineating where bodies had lain just hours before. Her voice was hoarse. “Give me a heads-up, Miles? ”





       Miles stayed quiet for a moment. It was only professional courtesy to give Amanda information. She had helped him with a few cases over the years. And he still owed her. It had been his mistake after all. Still, it rubbed oddly on him.





       He pursed his lips and shook his head. He could not deny the request. Not without good reason. And when it came to Canon, there was no good reason. “Looks like a rape gone apeshit. Some citizen saw it, run in to stop it. The perp shot her. Three shots. Citizen stabbed him twice in the chest. ”





       “Fuck, ” Amanda whispered under her breath.





       Miles clicked his tongue. He kept his voice low, unconfrontational. “Seeing you here and them Kats over at the corner, I’m guessing it was no citizen. ”





       Amanda’s blue eyes seemed almost white in the streetlamps’ harsh light. She cleared her throat once. “Nope. Not a citizen. ”





       “Deal gone bad? ” Miles asked, observing Amanda closely.





       The tall detective shook her head. “No. No way. ”





       Miles nodded slowly. It was just a potshot on his part. Everyone knew that Roberta Carver, aka Canon, never did petty deals on the streets.





       Amanda looked at him. “You going to the hospital? ”





       Miles nodded quickly. “Yes. The rape victim is conscious. ”





       “Alright. Thanks for the info, ” Amanda replied, her eyes once more returning to the dark alley and the twin pools of blood gleaming under the lights of the CSI team.





       Miles nodded at her before turning to walk toward his car. Once inside he paused for a moment, his eyes following Amanda Lewis as she entered her own car. She drove off quickly. Miles wondered whether he would find her at the hospital. He bet he would.





       The officers he had talked to had been pretty clear. The man would probably live. The woman was a goner. Miles shook his head. If he was right and it was obvious he was, this was a bigger case than he had imagined.





       Miles almost laughed. For most people, even for the brass at the station, it would be just another case. A good one too. A mark up for their stats. But Miles knew better. The brass saw nothing more than numbers. Most times they weren’t wrong. But this time, numbers didn’t count. The people did.





       Canon of the Kats was dead. And Miles didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.



















       Miles ran towards the one lit interrogation room, bowling over a uniformed officer in the way. “Get the fuck outta my way! ” He yelled hoarsely.





       “Hey! Stop! ” A voice shouted from behind him but Miles paid it no mind. He opened the interrogation room door, his breathing hard. The moment he saw his target, his mind seemed to snap.





       “You fucking bitch! You’re dead! ”





       He was on the woman before the detective taking her statement had even time to move. Miles managed to get two good punches in before hands grabbed him and pulled him back. His struggles were ineffectual but Miles did not notice. His vision was consumed by pale green eyes looking at him angrily.





       The woman spit blood on the floor and looked Miles over. Her snigger was clearly audible to all. Miles lost it.





       “Stop! Stop damnit! ” The detectives holding him jerked his arms behind his back.





       “What? You protecting bangers now? Cop-killers? ” Miles shouted at them, his eyes wild.





       A roar from the woman behind him made the sergeant standing at the door shout quickly as he stepped in covering Miles. “No! Canon, no! She’s in surgery! ”





       Canon looked at the sergeant. Her voice was harsh. “Better be... ”





       Miles looked bewildered at the two detectives still standing next to him and the sergeant. “What? What the fuck? ”





       The two detectives looked at him expressionless, as the sergeant turned to Miles. “Detective, please. Calm down! ” he said commandingly.





       Miles shook his head. He could not believe this. He did not care how much clout the bitch had. She was going down for this. “Calm down? One of my own is down and you’re protecting a fucking killer? ”





       “Detective, please, ” the sergeant tried to calm him once more.





       “Please the fuck what? ” Miles shouted at him.





       The sergeant put his hands forward. His voice was calm, his eyes burning into Miles’. “Canon is not the shooter. ”





       Miles looked from the sergeant to Canon and back again. “Not the shooter? What? ” he said, his voice full of disbelief.





       “Please come with me, ” the sergeant said immediately, gesturing towards the door.