Canyons of Night

Chapter 27

“LEAVE THE AUTOMATON IN THE BATHTUB,” MARLOWE Jones ordered over the phone. “Don’t touch it. Don’t let anyone else touch it. Sounds like you deactivated it successfully but the tub will provide some additional protection in case it’s still capable of generating energy. You’re sure it’s facedown?”

“I’m sure,” Slade said. He was standing in the bathroom, the phone clamped to his ear, looking down at the Sylvester doll in the tub. “But I think it’s safe to handle as long as the key is out.”

“Pay attention, Attridge. You are not to take any more chances with that device.”

“Well, it sure as hell can’t remain here in my tub for long. I need to shower occasionally.”

“My assistant is on the phone to the lab people at the museum now. The removal-and-transport specialists should be there sometime tomorrow afternoon. The experts have ways of dealing with paranormal artifacts. They’ve got a specially equipped van.”

“Good to know,” Slade said. “But we’ve got a big storm coming in tonight. We’re bracing for wind and rain damage. If there’s a lot of it the ferry dock may be out of commission for a couple of days. Your lab people may have to wait until the following day to get here.”

“I’ll let them know. You say the automaton was made to resemble Sylvester?”

“The Old Bastard, himself.” Slade walked out of the bathroom into the hall. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget that he’s one of your ancestors.”

“Believe me when I tell you that no one in the Jones family ever forgets that,” Marlowe said. There was great depth of feeling in her tone.

“Give me some background on this clockwork weapon.”

“The original clockwork curiosities were created by a brilliant clockmaker named Millicent Bridewell back in the late Nineteenth Century, Old World date. Mrs. Bridewell sold the devices to special customers who were in the market for a discreet assassination machine that would not leave any hard evidence at the scene. I gather from my ancestor, Caleb Jones’s notes, that the toys caused a lot of trouble for J&J at the time.”

“What happened to them?”

“Most disappeared after J&J worked a case that came to be known in the records as the Quicksilver affair. But a few showed up a couple hundred years later in the twenty-first century. That was back when Fallon Jones was running J&J.”

“Which Jones?”

“Never mind, take my word for it, he was one of the legendary directors of J&J. He got all sorts of interesting cases. Rogue psychics, Nightshade, Mrs. Bridewell’s curiosities.”

Marlowe sounded wistful, Slade thought. He smiled. “Well, it’s not like you and your fiancé haven’t been busy lately. According to the press the two of you saved the whole Underworld.”

“Yes, that was quite exciting,” Marlowe said, brightening. “You say the device in your bathtub is still in working order?”

Slade thought about the cold energy that had almost iced his heart. “No doubt about it.”

“Does the mechanism look like Old World technology?”

“No, the escapement and the other parts are all new,” he said. “So is the costume. Everything about it was obviously constructed here on Harmony.”

“Except for the eyes. I’ll bet they’re original. They are the source of the killing energy and no one has ever figured out how to re-create Mrs. Bridewell’s brilliant work.”

“Not that you know of.”

“True. But there is absolutely no record of her work having been duplicated. Bridewell found a way to infuse powerful energy in glass and hold it in stasis until it is released by mechanical means. Her weapons-grade automatons could be used again and again, like guns. Quite unique.”

“The question now is, how the hell did this thing end up on my island?”

There was the faintest of pauses on the other end of the connection.

“Your island?” Marlowe repeated neutrally. “Adam told me that as far as you were concerned, the job on Rainshadow was strictly temporary. He said you were planning to quit in a few months.”

“Right,” Slade said. “But I’m here now and I’ve got a job to do. So for the time being, this is my town and my island. Any idea how that curiosity got here?”

“No,” Marlowe said. “But believe me, J&J will be looking into the matter.”

“Start with a dealer who worked the paranormal artifacts black market. The name is Jeremy Gaines.”

“Okay. Tell me about Gaines.”

“The first thing you should know is that he’s dead,” Slade said. “Murdered by paranormal means. He was in the para-arms business and it looks like he may have been killed by the two smugglers I just arrested but I’m not sure about that. I’ll see what I can get out of them but they’re obviously low-level muscle, not players.”

“What else do you know about them?”

“Officer Willis called just before I phoned you. He did a quick background check and confirmed that they are a couple of small-time career-criminals. They’re brothers, incidentally. Not the hottest amber in the drawer but they apparently had just enough hunter-talent to make them well-qualified for a life of crime. There are warrants out for their arrest from Frequency City. Most of it B and E. My next call will be to the Frequency cops. They can have both of them. I don’t want them on my island.”

“You said they’re hunter-talents.” Marlowe spoke deliberately. “Probably going to be hard to hold in a jail cell.”

“Very low-rent hunters,” Slade said, putting equally strong emphasis on his own words. “I don’t think it will be necessary for J&J to make any special arrangements for those two.”

“You’re sure the system can handle them?”

Slade thought about the zones of energy that he had extinguished in the auras of the two men. Psychic canyons of night, he thought. The two men who had dared to put their hands on Charlotte would never recover their talent. He had made sure of it. But he wasn’t about to explain that to the new director of the Frequency City office of J&J.

“If they get out of jail,” he said, “it won’t be because of their talent. Can’t guarantee what a jury will do. That’s always a crapshoot.”

“Okay,” Marlowe said. “I’ll take your word for it. Any idea why that pair of smugglers murdered Jeremy Gaines?”

“I haven’t questioned them yet but I’ve got one scenario that fits. We know there’s a market for para-weapons.”

“Nobody ever went broke selling guns, paranormal or otherwise,” Marlowe agreed. “It’s like the drug business. There are always plenty of buyers.”

“If I’m right about Jeremy Gaines being involved in the psi-arms trade, he probably needed a couple of tough guys to handle shipping and receiving. That’s a rough market.”

“True.”

“The pair I picked up knows how to operate a boat and they know enough about Rainshadow to figure out where on the island they could conceal illicit artifacts between shipments. It’s obvious they’ve been using the island as a staging point for their products for some time.”

“You’re thinking this is a falling-out-among-thieves situation? The two smugglers quarreled with Gaines and decided they didn’t need him anymore?”

“Maybe.” But it didn’t feel quite right, he thought. “I’ll have more for you after they wake up and I’ve had a chance to question them.”

“Wake up?” Marlowe’s voice sharpened. “They’re both asleep? You said they just got locked up. How many criminals take a nap shortly after being arrested? They should be busy calling their bail bondsmen and their lawyers.”

“Turns out we don’t have a lot of bail bondsmen and lawyers on the island. There was a bit of a scuffle when I took the bad guys down. I’m going to have to let you go. I’ve got a lot to do here between trying to close out my case and prepare for the storm.”

“What does this have to do with a storm?” Marlowe demanded.

“Big one coming in tonight. Tomorrow there will be a lot of downed trees blocking roads and causing power outages. Probably a fair amount of wind damage.”

“So?”

“The local police department is the closest thing Rainshadow has to an emergency response agency. I’ve got one officer and a secretary. Come dawn, we’re all going to be busy doing damage assessment and checking on some of the folks who live in the more remote sections of the island. Lots of our residents tend to be a bit eccentric and reclusive. Some of them don’t even have phones. I’ll call you when I have more information.”

“I see.” Marlowe cleared her throat. “How are you doing there on Rainshadow? Is the new job working out for you?”

“Working out fine,” Slade said.

“Good. That’s good. Glad to hear it.” She paused delicately. “Are you feeling all right?”

“If you’re asking me about my para-senses, which I assume is your real question, they haven’t deteriorated any further.”

“I’m so glad. Adam told me about what the explosion did to your senses. I’m so very sorry.”

She meant well, Slade thought, but the sympathy in her voice was annoying.

“My talent has stabilized, at least for now,” he said. He kept his own voice cool and even, making it clear he was not inviting any more conversation on the topic. Good-bye, Marlowe. Give my best to Adam. I’ll see you both at the wedding.”

“Wait, don’t hang up—”

Slade closed the phone.

ADAM WINTERS TURNED AWAY FROM THE WINDOW and watched Marlowe put down the phone. He could tell from the tightness at the edges of her eyes that she was annoyed. He loved looking at her, he thought, regardless of her mood. She never ceased to fascinate him. Her energy worked magic.

Evidently sensing that she was irritated, Gibson, Marlowe’s dust bunny companion, vaulted up onto the desk and offered her a High-Rez Energy Bar from his precious stash. Gibson was a member of the High-Rez Energy Bar of the Month Club. He received a box of the treats every four weeks, courtesy of the Frequency City Ghost Hunters Guild. Gibson had helped save the Underworld but figuring out how to thank a dust bunny for service above and beyond the call of duty was no easy task. He seemed thrilled with his monthly energy bar shipments, though.

“Thanks, Gibson,” Marlowe said. Her expression lightened with affection. She accepted the energy bar and switched her attention back to Adam as she started to unwrap the snack. “Slade said to give you his best. Said he’d see us at the wedding.”

Adam raised his brows. “He said he would be coming to our wedding?”

“Uh-huh.” Marlowe took a bite of the energy bar. “Seemed in pretty good spirits for a guy who is supposed to be going psiblind.”

“Is that so?”

“Said he was busy there on Rainshadow. Thinks he’s got the clockwork curiosities case almost closed at his end. Of course, I’ve still got a lot of work to do. I need to find out if there are any more of those Bridewell toys floating around. One of the real problems is that none of the Arcane museums have accurate records of what artifacts were brought through the Curtain legally, let alone what collectors might have smuggled.”

“You said Slade sounded good?”

“Yes.”

“Did he mention the status of his talent?”

Marlowe munched reflectively for a time. “Said his talent had stabilized.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“He said a couple of other things, too. He referred to Rainshadow as his island.”

Adam nodded. “He’s taking his job seriously. That’s Slade. He’s a lawman to the bone.”

Marlowe gave the foil wrapper from the energy bar to Gibson, who chortled and raced off to add it to his collection of wrappers.

“Slade said something else, too,” Marlowe volunteered.

“What?”

“He told me that the two hunter-talents he has in jail won’t be a problem for regular law enforcement after they wake up.”

“They’re asleep?”

“From what I can gather they fell asleep during what Slade referred to as a scuffle that occurred when he took them down.”

“That would have been when they were holding Charlotte Enright hostage with the intent to kill her.”

“Yes.”

Adam smiled slowly. “And now he’s not the least bit concerned that they may be able to use their talent to escape jail.”

“Nope.” Marlowe ate the last of the energy bar. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That Slade’s talent has not only stabilized but that it may be of a slightly different nature than it was before he was caught in that explosion? Yes, that is exactly what I’m thinking.”

“Think it’s going to be a problem?”

“No,” Adam said. “I know him. He got the protect-and-defend gene. It’s encoded in his DNA.”

“The ability to psiblind another talent is heavy-duty stuff.”

“No more heavy duty than our ability to work the Burning Lamp.”

“Okay,” Marlowe allowed. “I’ll give you that.”

“For obvious reasons we will not be making our speculations known to others,” Adam said.

“Absolutely not. People would freak. I wonder if those two hunter-talents will ever figure out why they both went blind.”

“If they’ve got any sense they’ll realize they got off lightly.”

Marlowe frowned. “Think so?”

“I know what I’d do to anyone who threatened to murder you,” Adam said simply.

“Oh.” She smiled. “Right. They’re lucky to be alive, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Adam said. “But, then, there’s probably a reason for that, as well.”

“What reason would that be?”

“Slade wants information from them.”

“Ah, yes.” Marlowe nodded. “Of course.”

“Like I said, he’s a natural-born crime fighter.”

The office door opened. Rick Pratt, Marlowe’s administrative assistant, put his head around the corner.

“Don’t forget your appointment with the wedding planner, boss,” Rick said. “You and Mr. Winters are due in her office in twenty minutes. Big decision today regarding the flowers.”

Adam groaned. “You know, this would be so much simpler if we just eloped.”

Rick gave him a stern look. “You can’t elope. You’re a Guild boss and this is a full Covenant Marriage ceremony. Your wedding to Marlowe is going to be the social event of the season here in Frequency.”

“I’ve heard that,” Adam said.

Marlowe laughed. “Come on, how hard can it be to choose a few flowers?”

Adam looked at her and fell in love all over again, just as he had the first time she rode into his life on the back of a motorcycle. Marlowe’s love for him glowed in her eyes. He knew it would be like this all the days of their lives.

“I will do whatever it takes to marry you,” he vowed. “Bring on the flowers.”