Boxing the Octopus, page 26
“There,” said Cragg, close enough that Eva started. “See those seams where the walls meet the ceiling? Barely visible until Oscar moves, and totally invisible unless the main lighting is off, as it is now.” He gestured at various points above. “We check those from time to time—though this is the Aquarium By the Bay, we don’t want the bay inside the aquarium.”
Eva tore her eyes from the ceiling. “You mean we’re not inside a giant fish tank?”
“We’re under the bay,” replied Cragg. “That’s why there’s so much kelp, and the fish move so fast.” He waved at the walls of the chamber. “Just like a tunnel for cars that runs under a river, this is a tunnel for people. The only difference is you can see through the walls.”
Directly before them was a conveyor that moved visitors the length of the chamber, right to left from Eva’s perspective. It was currently motionless, but she noticed green and red Start-Stop buttons at either end.
To their left was the exit where the people-mover would flow into the main hall of the aquarium. On their right, the on-ramp from the street entrance, where gaggles of school children streamed daily into the grotto for the first time. Directly across the room was another fire door like the one they’d come through.
Eva made a mental note that there were four ways in and hopefully at least one way out for her. She looked up at Oscar.
“Why doesn’t he escape?”
“Some man-made barriers connected to the ceiling structure, just the right configuration to let fish in but keep Oscar here at home.”
“So, he’s trapped,” said Eva, thinking she knew just how that felt.
“He got too big, and that was his undoing.” Cragg slipped his hand into his pocket and removed the small semiautomatic he’d stolen from Eva. “Wouldn’t you agree, Doctor?”
As the Doctor opened his mouth to respond, Cragg sidestepped Eva and backhanded him across the face with the gun.
“Cragg, what the shit—” The Doctor staggered but remained on his feet. A trickle of blood emerged from the corner of his mouth. He started to raise a hand to his face, but Cragg wagged a finger like a warning metronome.
With a nonchalance that belied the speed of his hands, Cragg worked the slide on the pistol to feed a cartridge into the chamber, then aimed at the Doctor’s forehead. “Your sidearm. I’d be obliged if you dropped it.”
Not wanting to get caught in the crossfire, Eva stepped to the side, but she stumbled and fell to one knee as the Doctor’s pistol fell to the floor. Cragg kicked it out of reach before Eva could even think about making a grab. It skidded across the conveyor to the opposite side of the room.
Eva stayed down, hands on the floor—as submissive a pose as she could manage.
“Relax, lass,” said Cragg. “We’re just going to talk.” Eyes on the Doctor, he added, “Nothing personal, Doc, just feels better being the only one holding a gun.”
“We had an agreement,” said the Doctor, dabbing at the edge of his lip.
“We still do,” said Cragg evenly. “And I intend to honor it. But since we don’t know what this young lady is about to tell us, I’m just hedging my bets.”
The Doctor looked past the barrel of the pistol and smiled cynically. “You took the money?”
“Not exactly.”
“Reckless bastard.” The Doctor spat blood. “Double dipping son of a—”
“Mind your tongue, Doctor,” said Cragg soothingly. “After all, it’s an optional piece of equipment.”
Eva felt the tension building, as if the two men were succumbing to the water pressure outside the chamber.
The Doctor was beyond indignant. “You put this whole operation in jeopardy for a robbery?”
“This was before our new arrangement,” said Cragg defensively.
Eva smirked but kept her head down. “Never trust a pirate.”
“You got that right!” An unfamiliar voice echoed across the grotto, and all eyes jumped to the street entrance.
At the edge of the conveyor was a man in tattered clothes, standing next to a woman with auburn hair who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else.
The tattered man was holding her left arm at the elbow, but as soon as he had the room’s attention, he released her and brought both hands to bear on a formidable weapon.
The man was pointing a spear gun at Cragg’s heart.
The pirate didn’t lower his gun or shift his stance away from the Doctor. He stayed motionless, reluctant to be impaled. It was obvious that Cragg knew his uninvited guest.
“Lou,” he almost whispered. “Thought we’d lost you, lad.”
“You salty sociopath.” Lou moved the spear gun up and down suggestively. “Hope you don’t mind I borrowed this—took it off the wall of your holding tank—remember that place? Where you dunked me in the pool?”
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “This the guy you fed to a shark?”
“Afraid so,” muttered Cragg.
“No wonder he’s pissed.”
“You’ve got no idea,” said Lou. He took a step closer and sighted down the spear gun like a rifle. To his right, the woman scanned the room nervously. Eva noticed her eyes landed on the gun at the far side of the room.
All three men were staring at the tip of the spear.
Eva saw her opening. Keeping her left hand on the floor, Eva snaked her right hand into her boot and found the switchblade. In a seamless arc, she whipped her arm over her head and pressed the release button.
The blade snapped into place as she lunged sideways at Cragg.
The knife penetrated the leg of his pants just above the knee. Cragg howled as the point scraped along his patella until half the blade disappeared into his thigh. Eva felt herself losing her grip and twisted the knife clockwise like an angry watchmaker.
Cragg spasmed as if electrocuted, arms shooting upward, hands clenching in agony. The pistol discharged once, before it slipped from his contorted grip. A spiderweb of luminous cracks appeared under Oscar.
The pirate fell onto his side, desperate to wrench the knife from his leg. Blood was pumping thickly through his fingers.
Thank God he didn’t have a wooden leg. Eva rolled to her right but careened into the Doctor, who fell heavily on top of her. She tried to shove him off but their legs tangled, and he was pulling in the opposite direction. Eva twisted and tried to wriggle free, elbowing him in the side of the head for good measure.
The smelly lunatic with the spear gun was getting closer, but his eyes were solely on Cragg. Eva’s pistol was diagonally across from the pirate, so she turned her attention to the Doctor’s gun that Cragg had kicked across the room.
The auburn woman was already halfway there.
With a final heave, Eva rolled clear of the Doctor and they both scrambled to their feet. Their eyes met—he clearly had the same idea.
Whoever got to a gun first would control the room.
They had reached the conveyor belt, the midpoint of the race, when the fire door on the far wall slammed open. A man holding a massive revolver in his right hand stepped into the room.
Not quite six feet tall, with sandy hair and bluish eyes, he assessed the scene quickly and pointed his gun at Lou, since the spear gun was the only weapon in play. Eva thought the stranger took in the chaos with admirable calm until he caught sight of the woman heading for the gun near his feet.
“Vera.”
“Cape.” The woman looked relieved. “Thank God.”
Lou lowered the spear gun to half-mast but didn’t drop it. He was looking at the woman named Vera, but she was staring at the man with the gun. Eva and the Doctor stood side by side on the conveyor.
Nobody moved except Cragg, who writhed and cursed in guttural tones as he tried to staunch the bleeding. It was a frozen tableau of unfulfilled anarchy, just waiting for another catalyst to arrive.
The sound of pounding footsteps from the main hall came out of nowhere. Everyone turned as the beats grew louder and faster. A lone runner, heading in their direction, someone without care for the hazards of inertia.
Eva recognized those footsteps.
Sergey burst into the room and slid across the floor like a bear on ice skates. He was holding two nesting dolls as if they were grenades.
“What did I miss?” he asked breathlessly.
“Who the hell is he?” asked the Doctor.
“That’s my brother,” said Eva proudly.
“Privet sestrenka,” said Sergey. “Are you hurt?”
Eva shook her head and smiled. She had never loved her brother so much.
The man called Cape tracked Sergey’s heroic slide like everyone else, so he hadn’t noticed when Vera bent down and grabbed the Doctor’s gun. Neither had Eva, who only realized what was happening when she heard the click of a hammer.
Now she and everyone else saw that Vera was pointing a gun at Cape.
70
Cape was disappointed but not surprised to see a gun pointing at his chest.
Vera looked at him apologetically as he lowered his revolver and let it drop to the floor.
“You knew,” she said simply.
“I suspected.” Cape let his gaze drift to her gun hand. “And now I know.”
Vera nodded. “What was it?”
“You left enough breadcrumbs to start a bakery,” said Cape.
He scanned the room, trying to sort friendlies from accomplices. The only person Cape recognized was Lou, the other missing driver, and he didn’t seem friendly at all.
Vera sidestepped so no one was in her blind spot. Sergey put his nesting dolls back in his pockets but stayed where he was. Cragg seemed to have passed out.
Everyone sensed that what happened next would depend entirely on the outcome of this conversation. Vera turned her attention back to Cape.
“Tell me.”
“There are three crimes,” said Cape. “The armored car. The drug trade. And the money laundering. Two of them are perfect.”
“Damn straight,” muttered the Doctor.
“The money laundering operation is a work of art,” said Cape. “It’s so fully baked into the local economy that it’s invisible.”
Vera half smiled. “You’re a lot smarter than you seem at first.”
“I get that a lot,” said Cape. “If someone is laundering hundreds of millions of dollars, why steal a few million? The armored car is small potatoes.”
“Because they’re morons,” said the Doctor. Vera looked at him without shifting the gun from Cape, but her eyes made it clear the Doctor was in her sights.
“No,” said Cape. “This wasn’t stupid, it was deliberate.” He looked at Vera without acrimony. “You wanted to blow it all up.”
“It wasn’t about the money,” said Vera.
“The hell it wasn’t,” said Lou.
“That’s what threw me,” said Cape. “You turned me on to money laundering by sending me to Harkness and his conspiracy theories. You even made it clear you resented being cut out of the pier’s underground economy. So why hire me in the first place if you stole the money?”
“I was told that you’d never quit,” said Vera.
“But you still gave me a push,” said Cape. “When things weren’t moving fast enough, you had someone take a shot at me.”
“Sorry about that.”
“It was my own fault.” Cape touched the cut on his cheek. “I was sitting next to you, but the shot was taken at eye level. If I hadn’t stood up when I did, they would’ve missed by three feet. The only sniper who misses at that distance is one trying to miss, and the only person who knew I’d be at your place was, well…you.”
“I knew you were the right man—”
“—for the wrong job,” said Cape. “Your cell phone was glowing when I came into your office, before the shot. Could’ve been someone texting you, or maybe you texted someone to say I’d arrived.” Cape patted his jacket pocket. “Oh, before I came here, I found your phone on your desk—you often get calls from the aquarium, or just today?”
“I knew I forgot my phone,” said Vera, glancing at Lou. “But I left in a hurry.”
Cape regarded Lou but addressed Vera. “Your sniper?”
“No,” said Vera. “Just a partner in crime.” She flicked her eyes toward Cragg, still curled into a ball. “I had a pirate do the dirty work.”
Cape nodded. “He was your inside man?”
“We were neighbors on the pier,” said Vera, “and pirates like to tell fish stories when they’re drunk. A few bottles of rum and I knew everything he knew. And Cragg knew where all the bodies were buried.”
“The silver cross was a bit heavy-handed,” said Cape. “How many did you scatter under the marina, anyway?”
Vera smiled bitterly. “I’m not as cynical as you think.”
“I didn’t say you were,” said Cape. “But he’s dead, isn’t he?”
“I got Hank out.” Vera’s tone hardened. “Just not fast enough.”
“Buried at sea,” said Cape. “No wonder I couldn’t find him.”
“You were never supposed to,” said Vera.
“Did he know?”
Vera shook her head. “Hank wouldn’t go along with my first plan.” She jutted her chin at Lou. “So I had to go with plan B.”
“And killed Hank.”
“He died.” Vera almost spat. “There’s a fucking difference. That’s what always happens to people I care about.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Cape turned to the room full of felons. “And these are your loose ends.”
“Come again?” said Lou.
“Vot dermo,” muttered Eva.
“Hold the fucking phone, Hercule Poirot,” said the Doctor. “This has nothing to do with me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Vera. “Doctor.”
“Who the hell are you?” asked the Doctor.
Vera adjusted her grip on the gun and changed her stance so the Doctor stood within the sweep of her arm.
“Vera, I meant to ask you,” said Cape, “how your daughter died.”
Vera’s head swiveled back to Cape like a gun turret. After a pause that seemed to last a lifetime, she forced a breath and worked her jaw into a grim smile. “Something tells me you already know.”
Cape shook his head. “I just know this must be personal.”
“A doctor killed her,” said Vera, eyes back on her target. “She got sick, really sick, but she was finally getting better.” Vera pointed the gun like a finger at the Doctor’s heart. “Then some doctor decides to adjust her meds—says it just like that, like he’s a mechanic tuning an engine—and next thing you know, after one fucking pill—she’s gone.”
“I’m sorry,” said Cape.
“It wasn’t me,” said the Doctor.
“It might as well have been,” said Vera. “Guess who manufactured the drug?”
Cape didn’t have to guess. “Hopewell Pharmaceuticals.”
“Oh, shit,” said the Doctor.
Vera blinked as if wiping away a memory, then looked at Cape with an opaque expression. “What you called a work of art, this criminal cabal—”
“—it’s a consortium,” said the Doctor irritably.
Nobody moved but Cape knew everyone wanted to, all at once. He gauged the distance to Vera and considered his chances of rushing her.
“When I realized what was behind it,” said Vera, “I decided to steal from them, just like they stole from me.” She waved the gun toward the Doctor. “Because I knew money was the only thing that would get their attention. The only thing that would bring him here.”
The Doctor looked like a man invited to his own wake. “There are bigger forces at work here,” he said. “I’m trying to save the world.”
“Can my sister and I leave?” asked Sergey.
“No,” said Vera.
“I’m not kidding,” said the Doctor. “I’m about to—”
“—you’re about to die.” Vera brought her hands together around the pistol’s grip in a shooter’s stance. Cape had no illusions she could miss at this range.
The gunshot came, but the Doctor didn’t fall.
Vera rocked backward, red mist flying off her shoulder. She spun like a drunken ballerina but didn’t drop her gun. Cape felt the snap of a bullet passing within inches of his head as a second shot missed its mark. A giant snowflake of cracks appeared in the wall as aftershocks ricocheted around the room like hornets.
Cape dropped to the floor and rolled until he found the shooter.
Cragg was sitting in a pool of his own blood, propped against the translucent wall. The pirate was struggling to hold the small pistol as if it were an anchor. He steadied his hand and tried to squeeze off another shot, his face a rictus of revenge.
The concussive twang of the spear gun preceded a tiny harpoon appearing in Cragg’s chest. It was like a magic trick—a bloody pirate one moment, a skewered scallywag the next.
Cragg clawed at his chest, the pistol skittering across the floor until it hit the conveyor. A wheezing sound emanated from the wound.
Lou dropped the spear gun and took a step closer, not blinking until Cragg’s hand stopped moving and his head fell forward onto his chest.
“Aarrrgh,” said Cragg, and then he died.
“A pirate to the end,” said Eva.
Lou kicked at Cragg’s boot. “See you in Davy Jones’s locker.”
Cape realized Vera was still on her feet.
The bullet had only grazed her shoulder, and she had her bearings. Cape was three feet away from his revolver when their eyes met. Still on all fours, Cape held up a hand.
“Isn’t this the moment when you ask me to run away with you?”
“You’re a good man,” Vera said, making it sound like the biggest character flaw in the history of humanity.
