Read The Man Who Crossed Worlds (Miles Franco #1) Page 11

CHAPTER TEN

  For once I was on the other side of the interrogation table, and it made a refreshing change. This table was just Spencer’s kitchen table—far less impressive than the interview room at the police station—but I was still enjoying myself. Let someone else see what it felt like.

  “Why’d you run, Mr. Davies?” Vivian had given up all pretense of not being a cop as soon as we sat down around the tiny square table. For a place that let in no natural light, the kitchen was cozy, I guess, though it had a strange smell to it. I kept glancing toward his kitchen refrigerator, wondering if he kept his chemicals next to his lettuce.

  Spencer, for his part, was a wreck. Not from the crash; he’d come out of that with no more than the scratch on his head. But his eyes flicked around the room constantly, and he tapped out an agitated rhythm on the table. He ran a long tongue across his shark-like teeth and twisted in his chair. He looked old, older even than he usually did.

  “Mr. Davies,” Vivian repeated.

  “You know how much danger I’m putting myself in if I say anything?”

  “You’re in danger from me if you don’t talk,” I said.

  His eyes stopped on me for a moment, before continuing their surveillance of the room. “Stop pretending to be tough, Franco. You can’t pull it off.”

  I’d been beaten half to hell, and he didn’t think I was tough. Typical. I tried to loom over the table, but it didn’t really work from a sitting position, so I settled for scowling instead. Spencer didn’t take any notice.

  “Look at me, Mr. Davies,” Vivian said. “Am I tough enough for you? Or would you like me to take you downtown and introduce you to some of the guys we’ve got locked up in holding? In fact, I think we’ve got a gang enforcer in there right now. You could make a new friend.”

  Spencer’s face paled further—something I didn’t know was possible—and ceased sweeping the room with his eyes, though his fingers continued to fidget. “All right, all right.”

  “Why did you run?”

  He tapped his fingers on the table a few more times. Jesus, he was scared. Did I really want to hear what he had to say?

  “I’ve been getting visits,” he said.

  Vivian leaned forward. “Visits? From who?”

  “I don’t know. First one came yesterday afternoon, when I was just getting out of the lab. All sorts of banging on my door, not the right knock. I was going to leave it, but it didn’t stop. I finally checked it out, and they started right in with the threats before I’d even let them inside.”

  “Man? Woman?”

  “Both. Two men, one Vei and one human. The human was big and fat. And there was a human woman with them. Don’t recall her name, but something about her face seemed familiar. A Tunneler, I think.”

  That could be Shirley O’Neil and John Andrews’ men. No matter what Andrews claimed, the bastard was caught up in this somehow.

  “Okay,” Vivian said, studying Spencer’s face, “and why did they threaten you?”

  “They wanted information, same as you. But they weren’t quite as nice about asking for it.” He shot me a look that could have melted steel. “Though I note that none of them destroyed any cars to get to me.”

  Being the bigger man, I chose to ignore that jab. Vivian pulled a notebook from some hidden pocket and was scribbling notes in handwriting that would have required a team of cryptographers to decipher. “Did they tell you who they worked for? And did you give them what they wanted?”

  “They weren’t people you play around with. They were obviously gangsters, from one of the gangs that didn’t mind mixing species.” That narrowed it down to about three of the major gangs, though Andrews was still my pick for first place. Spencer absentmindedly touched his neck, and I caught a tremble in his fingers. “The big one held a knife to my throat while the Vei asked questions. The woman didn’t say anything, she just went around examining my chemicals and reading my notes.”

  “Did she find anything?” I asked.

  “There wasn’t anything to find.”

  He was getting agitated again, squirming in his chair. I didn’t know if he was holding something back, or just nervous. I wanted to trust him, but the old bastard hadn’t made it easy.

  “And the questions the other one asked you,” Vivian said. “What did he want to know?”

  “Drugs. New drugs, specifically. It sounded like they were going around chemists and shaking them down. See what information they could shake out about this doctor.”

  “You know about Doctor Dee?” Vivian asked.

  “I’ve heard the rumors. I sell my chemicals to many people, Miss Detective. None of them are completely innocent. Many have gang ties. Some of them like to talk.” He shrugged. “So yes, I know a little.”

  “Do you know who he is?” I asked, feeling a thrill of excitement run through me.

  He looked at me like I was the biggest idiot in Bluegate. “If I knew that, I would’ve told those bastard gangsters so they’d leave me alone.”

  My heart sunk a little. I should have known that’d be too easy. “So what’d they want with you after you told them that?”

  “They were careful to ensure I wasn’t lying. Very careful.” His finger increased the tempo of its tapping. “Then they wanted to know more about this Chroma you were so excited about. Possibilities, what it might be able to do.”

  “What it can do? I thought it was just an enhanced version of Ink.” I glanced at Vivian, but she didn’t quite meet my eyes.

  The look that crossed Spencer’s face could almost have passed for a smile, if I thought he was capable of such an expression. “Is that what they told you? You don’t think the city would be wild as a ganuck if that’s all it is, do you?”

  The son of a bitch had a point. Drugs had been flooding Bluegate’s streets for decades, and the cops had barely got the tips of their fingers dirty dealing with it. What had changed? Why was Chroma so important?

  Vivian stared at Spencer with bloody murder in her eyes, and he just stared back smugly, though his fidgeting ruined the effect. I fought the urge to clench my fists. What had the cops been keeping from me now?

  “That’s it?” Vivian asked. “That’s all you’ve got? Some rumors and a few gangsters paying you a visit.”

  “I’m risking my life talking to you. What more do you want?”

  Vivian stood up. “Come on, Miles. We’re wasting our time.”

  I stayed seated. I wasn’t so eager to jump at her command. Not when I could be on the edge of a cliff. I’d taken a goddamn beating for this thing, stared down gun barrels, and Vivian had been hiding information from me this whole time?

  “What could this drug do?” I asked, barely keeping the anger from my tone. “Is it poisonous? Hallucinogenic?”

  Spencer answered first. He wanted us gone. “You’re not thinking big enough, Franco. That was always your problem. If Doctor Dee is a half-decent chemist, almost anything is possible. And possibilities, as you well know, can be very dangerous.”

  “Tunnels?” I said. “You’re talking about Tunnels, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe something worse. I’m just repeating what I’ve heard. I can tell you one thing, though. The gangs want it, and they want it bad. Violence is coming, violence like you’ve never seen. I’d leave this city if I were you. And I’d do it soon.”

  “How soon?” I asked. “When’s this thing hitting the streets?”

  “That’s one thing everyone agrees on. The first shipment will be here Friday.”

  “Friday?” I asked, my voice rising like a goddamn castrato. “This Friday? As in tomorrow?”

  The look on his face confirmed it. Hell. That’s why Andrews wasn’t hanging around. If he was going to act against Doctor Dee, he had to act now.

  I met Vivian’s eyes, and she had the same “Oh, shit” look on her face. It was clear now that neither of us had a goddamn idea what was going on. We were groping around in the dark, and not in the fun way.

  Whatever th
is Chroma was, it had scared Spencer and the underworld half to hell. Scaring Spencer wasn’t hard, but anything that scared Andrews enough to have him forming an underworld alliance and going to war was enough to scare me. We’d long since ceased to be in over our heads; the sharks were already nibbling our toes.

  “Miles,” Vivian said. “You still with us?”

  I shook myself free of my thoughts. Vivian stood, hands tight on her hips so I couldn’t see if they were trembling, her hair smooth and perfect as if she hadn’t just been running around and firing guns. My mouth went dry for a moment, a sudden rush of nervous energy running through me.

  Why couldn’t they pair me with an ugly cop?

  “Christ, you still mean to go after Andrews, don’t you?”

  “He’s the only lead we’ve got to Dee.”

  I sighed. “And you still want my help getting to Heaven.”

  “Yes.”

  I deluded myself for a few more moments that I had a choice, even though I already knew what I was going to say. I’ve always been a sucker for punishment. “Hell. Let’s not waste any more time, then.”

  She nodded briskly, a slight upturning of her lips her only offer of thanks. It was enough, for now. I’d be having words with her about whatever information she’d been keeping from me, but we had a long Tunnel journey ahead of us for me to practice my interrogation skills. I stood, leaving Spencer at the table, and made for the door.

  “Hey,” Spencer said. “The Kemia you took. You haven’t paid for it.”

  I’d completely forgotten about that. The bottle was in my jacket pocket, nearly full apart from the splash I’d used to take out the car. I glanced at Vivian and jerked my head toward Spencer. “You heard him. Pay the man.”

  Her smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. “I’ve half a mind to take it. Evidence. Obstructing the case.”

  “You’re a cop, Vivian. You don’t have it in you. Come on. We’re on a timer now.”

  She gave me a look that told me I was going to regret this later, then slammed a wad of bills down on the table in front of Spencer. “If I find out you withheld information from us, I’m going to see you in a cell.”

  She spun away and strode out the door without giving him a chance to respond. Spencer put his head in his hands, and a shiver ran through his frail body.

  I couldn’t muster much sympathy for him. He wasn’t the one about to throw himself into the middle of a gang war.

  That fun was saved all for me.