Rex 03 The Face Read online

  When he arrives at his office door he is more than relieved to see his quarry is still waiting there patiently, though the figure in question is checking the time too, on a clock-face that hangs on a pendant round her neck. She drops the timepiece back under her crisp, thin blouse and straightens out her hugging skirt-suit before her hands come to preen her smooth blonde hair. As his footsteps approach, the figure turns with a perfect white smile and glossy pink lips, her reflective eyes almost white as they brighten and focus upon him.

  “Detective Rex,” welcomes Angelica Lane. “And there was me thinking you’d stood me up.”

  4.

  “Thank you for coming Angelica,” Cae says as he takes a seat. “Shut the door, would you?”

  The pretty blonde obliges before occupying the chair opposite Cae. She crosses her legs elegantly. “Am I to understand this conversation is off the record?” She enquires.

  “It is,” Cae nods. “It’s about that favour I mentioned some time ago,” he continues. The gloved man pulls out his suspect list, handing it to her across the table. “Can you arrange for me to speak to any of the criminals left on this list?”

  Angelica’s glassy eyes scan the roster rapidly. “I have a few of them under my care at Dartley Prison, and one or two report to me via the Parole Board.” Her blonde eyebrows furrow at the list. “Why am I on here?” She asks accusingly.

  “These people might be connected to a criminal magnate I’ve been made aware of,” Cae explains. “His name is The Face, and apparently he’s been around for quite some time.”

  “And you aim to bring him to justice?” Angelica says with a raised brow. Cae nods solemnly, his cobalt blue eyes falling to look at the desk. “Then why are we off the record?” The blonde continues. “Surely it’s in the station’s best interests to work together to track this guy down?”

  “The Face killed my mother,” Cae answers with his head hung low. “I want my own justice before I let the authorities get their hands on him.”

  “Is that so?” Angelica asks, but when Cae looks up she is studying the list again. “And your chief, she’s okay with this personal vendetta?”

  “Of course. Kendra’s my friend first, and my chief second,” Cae states firmly.

  “I hope you’re right about that,” Angelica answers darkly. She sets the list down on the desk between them and points to a circled name in the middle. “You’ve got Lady Locke on here,” she starts again. “What do you know about her?”

  “Very little apart from her penchant for sequins and glitter,” Cae replies. “Why?”

  “I remember shadowing her brother’s case a few years ago when I was training,” Angelica reveals. “He went down for eighteen months for illegal trafficking.”

  “What was the cargo?” The detective presses.

  “Acids,” Angelica responds simply.

  Cae’s eyes brighten, and he sits up a little straighter in his seat. “What kind of acids?” He asks.

  Angelica chuckles. “The illegal kind of course,” she says. “The highest content sulphurics and the superacids.”

  “Like HCX?” Cae questions.

  Angelica nods, her look changing to one of concern. But Cae can hardly see her watching him as his mind flashes back to the Atomic Circus, to an acid trading woman with a bald scalp who had shown him the chemical by that very name. It had glowed green, the brightest green he had ever seen, and he knew its destructive hue all too well.

  “I think I’m going to need to talk to Lady Locke again,” he supposes.

  “Good luck,” the blonde scoffs with a wave of her petite hand. “Breaking into her social circle’s apparently not an easy feat.”

  “Really?” Cae answers with a quirked brow. “She offered me employment when I was there last night.”

  Angelica breaks into a smile. “Now that is curious.” She looks Cae over with her pale, mirror-like eyes. “She must fancy you,” she adds as the smile widens into a gleaming grin.

  Cae shifts uncomfortably in his seat, half at Angelica’s comment and half at the burning under his skin. Withdrawal flares into his senses and rears its ugly head for the tiniest of moments, but it’s enough to force him to consider temptation.

  “Do you think I should take the job, then?” He asks, the spirit of addiction praying for a “Yes” to befall Angelica’s glossy lips.

  “Of course you should,” the blonde answers, and a little part of Cae’s mind leaps for joy. “Show her that she can trust you outside of this place, and she might even introduce you to the rest of this list. All the boys inside know Lady Locke.” Angelica leans forward at the table with a little smirk. “So long as Sergeant Nai doesn’t mind you moonlighting, of course.”

  And Cae knows full well that Kendra will mind if he takes another job, particularly at the same venue that she has just specifically told him to stay away from. But there is so much to gain from taking up the offer at the House of Cards, and what will he really lose in comparison? She might be angry at him for a while, but Kendra will let him off when he tells her that he has tracked down The Face, he’s sure of that.

  “Well you know the phrase,” Cae begins, a small smile creeping into the corners of his pale lips. “It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.”

  “You know Caecilius,” Angelica replies. “The more I get to know you, the more I like you.” She rises from the desk slowly and picks up the list. “I’ll see if I can arrange some private conversations for you,” she adds. “You don’t mind if I take this for now?”

  “Help yourself,” Cae says with a shrug, knowing that his primary efforts will only be concerned with one name from now on.

  5.

  The atmosphere at the House of Cards this evening is somehow less frivolous than it was the night before. The coat check girl is not quite as smiley when she takes in Cae’s gas mask, and Andre is less than pleased to see the detective approaching his desk again.

  “We’ve already had your kind in here all day long,” Andre says with a swat of his tanned hand. “Get lost before the lady of the house sees you.”

  “I’m not here as an officer,” Cae assures with a stern look. “Lady Locke made me an offer yesterday, and I intend to take her up on it.”

  “Wonderful!” Exclaims a silky voice behind him, and the young man turns to find the woman in question is eavesdropping on his conversation. Tonight Lady Locke’s bouncing blonde curls have been replaced by an elegant sweep full of black feathers, and her gown is violet to match the glittering purple gems hiding the crows-feet around her eyes. “Do come this way, Caecilius,” she beckons with a gloved hand.

  The luxurious lady leads him through the throng of casino-goers on the gaming floor, and though it is just as busy as yesterday night, the conversation is considerably more muted. Some anxious patrons give the gloved man dressed all in black their most suspicious looks as Cae passes them by. At the end of the casino hall stand two thickset bodyguards in front of a set of golden double doors that have been added since the refurbishment. Cae remembers with a shudder seeing Jack Lacroix pass through the previous version of this exit when he left the detective here to die some six months ago.

  The guards move aside cordially for Lady Locke, who opens the door for Cae and invites him to step through before her. His keen blue eyes take in a room coated in silk and velvet, more of a boudoir than a reception suite. A collection of comfortable sofas and coffee tables are gathered around a large square structure in the centre of the private little room. The cube is covered in a lacy cloth that obscures his view of whatever is lurking underneath.

  “This is my precious attraction,” Lady Locke invites as she runs a gloved hand along the lace covering the cube. “It’s going to make the VIP membership package sales soar.” She grins with perfect teeth, her eyes glittering at the young detective. “Do you want to see what you’ll be guarding?”

  Cae nods with little expectation. No doubt the object will be some ludicrously priced piece of art that is totally meaningless
to the beholder, or a collection of jewels from some far off continent that he’s never likely to visit. The older woman strikes a fantastic pose ready to pull away the lace, and when she does Cae even surprises himself when his mouth falls open in an instant. The cube is a tank. And there is something moving inside it.

  “What…” Cae begins unsteadily. “What is it?”

  The creature is black and furry, no bigger than the size of a briefcase, and it glares out of its little home with horrible green eyes that narrow on Cae and his agog face. Little claws stretch from its front limbs as it puts them up against the plastic; it makes a screeching sound as it stretches and contorts its small body.

  “Have you never seen a cat before?” Lady Locke enquires with a gloating grin.

  “Oh, this is a cat?” Cae confirms with fascination. “I always get them mixed up with dogs.” In the toxic climate of Europa, and indeed the rest of the planet, such creatures are incredibly few and far between. “Shouldn’t this thing be in a bio-dome somewhere?” He continues.

  “Oh she’s not a zoological specimen,” Lady Locke answers proudly. “She came from a private breeder in a lab in the Wildlands.” The elegant lady comes closer to Cae, her voice dropping into a low whisper. “And what’s more,” she adds, “She’s pregnant!”

  “How much would one of her babies be worth?” Cae questions as the little creature curls itself into a ball on a soft cushion inside its tank.

  “To the right bidder?” Lady Locke begins with a grin. “Upwards of sixty grand apiece, and this little beauty could birth three or four kittens, perhaps even more.” The gloating proprietor lowers herself level with the clear cube and makes a kissy face at her valuable prize. “This is the only feline of its kind in the whole of North Europa; that’s why I need someone on the right side of the law to protect her.”

  “Someone who wouldn’t want to steal her for himself?” Cae confirms.

  Lady Locke nods proudly. “As we both know, detective, money is not your vice of choice.” That little ashamed feeling creeps into Cae’s pale cheeks with an invading pink hue, but Lady Locke is too busy fussing with the cat to notice it. “That reminds me,” she adds casually. “There is the matter of your fee to discuss.”

  “Right,” Cae begins awkwardly. “I need whatever information you can procure for me on The Face. Facts, mind you, not just gossip.”

  Lady Locke rises from the side of the tank and puts herself level with Cae’s avoiding eyes. “Yes, yes, I know that part,” she hurries. “And I’ll do my best for you. ‘I meant your other fee. The more fun one.’

  Her brown eyes sparkle wickedly, and Cae knows that this is his real moment of truth. Lady Locke puts an elegant arm on her curving hip and waits.

  “Well,” she starts again impatiently. “What’s your poison? I’m fascinated to know what a special detective ingests.”

  Cae feels the words emerge from his mouth before any sense of decency can stop him, and admitting them out loud gives him a bitter taste on his pale lips.

  “RESISTANCE, THRUST…and sometimes a little HOPE,” he says sourly.

  “I’ll ask my chemist to do you a blend,” the older woman replies, and he can see the amusement all over her glossy lips at the obvious amount of shame in his voice. “One powder for all three. Three parts RESISTANCE, two parts THRUST and one part HOPE. Does that sound alright for you dear?”

  It sounds horrifically perfect, and Cae nods with a head giddy with greed and a stomach weighed down with guilt.

  6.

  When the deal is struck and shaken on Cae is thoroughly disgusted with himself, but much of that feeling goes away when Lady Locke procures a little bottle of RESISTANCE for him to tide him over until the first proper blend comes in. The bottle comes from a safe hidden behind a fabric-coated wall in the VIP room, which Cae hardly notices as he becomes rapidly preoccupied with taking a tongueful of the powder he has been given. Twelve hours of hell without the drug is over at last, and Cae feels instantly improved both in body and mind.

  When Lady Locke asks him if he would like to meet the senior staff that he’ll be working with, he replies with enthusiasm and a whole new vigour for the post, which pleases the lady of the house to no end. She leads the detective back out into the gaming hall, where the lights have dimmed at one end of the space and a small crowd is gathering in anticipation of some event. Lady Locke waves her purple-gloved hands at Andre, who comes over to her and receives an order that he doesn’t seem to like.

  “What’s going on here?” Cae asks as he takes in a small round stage hardly an inch off the ground. The area is draped in black curtains that sparkle with glitter, and he is surprised to find that a lot of the gamblers have come away from their tables to wait beside it, particularly the men.

  “You’ll see in a few minutes,” Lady Locke answers. “But for now, meet my most indispensable team members.”

  Andre has returned with two other people, and they now stand in a little clump waiting to meet Cae with about as much enthusiasm as one would have meeting a traffic cop or an expert on soil.

  “You’ve met Andre Lutz, of course,” the opulent lady introduces.

  Cae shakes Andre’s tanned hand with his right gloved hand, finding the man’s grip insatiably firm. Andre’s dark eyes give him an unimpressed glare, but he doesn’t say a word in welcome.

  “And this is Croop, my head croupier bot,” Lady Locke continues, apparently oblivious to the building animosity.

  The young detective is surprised to find that he is looking at the robot from the previous evening, still dressed in its best formalwear. Croop extends its hand and nods its shiny white head, the cameras in its eyes turning with a whirr to focus in on the detective.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Caecilius,” says the robot’s programmed voice, a smooth male tone with a pleasant lift. Cae is far more impressed with Croop’s manners than with Andre’s.

  “And my chief cashier,” Lady Locke adds as the final person steps forward. “Maigret Zeus, but we all call her Mai.”

  “Mai,” Cae repeats politely as he takes her hand.

  The woman is brown haired and pushing fifty with an electronic cigarette hanging from her lip. She doesn’t seem to like Cae’s gloved hand as she shakes it and retrieves her own hand very quickly.

  “So you’re the guard for Cara?” She asks with a drawling tone.

  “Cara?” Cae repeats.

  “That’s the name of my precious little pet,” Lady Locke adds in a whisper. “Once we make the announcement tomorrow night, Cara and the House of Cards will be household names! We’ll have visitors from all over the nation coming to see such a rare creature.”

  “The lady has great vision,” Croop’s digital voice observes. “It is to be commended.”

  “What are you, programmed to be a suck up?” Andre croaks bitterly.

  At that moment the gathered people at the stage side begin a round of polite applause as the lights dim further. Music starts up from behind the black curtains, and Lady Locke leans her elegant head towards Cae’s ear.

  “And this,” she adds quietly. “Is Miss Zerafina Xiao, my head of entertainment.”

  The applause grows into a raucous fray as the woman appears from behind the curtains. She sweeps away a black tablecloth to reveal a stand that bears the legend: ZERAFINA THE MAGNIFICENT - CONJURER AND CONTORTIONIST. The woman has sienna coloured skin and narrow eyes that suggest an oriental descent. She wears a skintight leotard in a fleshy shade that would make her appear nude from the other side of the room, and she climbs up onto the stand bearing her name to survey her crowd of admirers with a thin-lipped smile.

  Cae looks around to find there are suddenly a lot more people watching her than before, the croupiers and dealers at the tables are taking a well-deserved break to clean their velvet counters. Zerafina’s pretty face is prominent against her jet black hair, which is collected into a smooth bun that sits perfectly on the top of her head. As the woman bends to touch her toes, she grins at her
spectators and drops her dark gaze to the floor of the stand.

  A double handstand earns her a round of applause, which is shortly followed by another ovation as Zerafina takes the weight of her tiny frame into just one hand, her legs bending back at an impossible angle to counteract the balance and keep her body steady. She bends her feet until they bear their soles to the audience and then stretches until the tips of her toes touch her forehead. Even Cae finds himself applauding in the throng of people, and wondering idly why anyone in their right mind would want to look at a cat when they could see a woman like Zerafina perform.

  “Fabulous, isn’t she?” Lady Locke purrs into his ear.

  “Definitely,” Cae answers with a nod.

  7.

  “You want to hear the morning report on the Flash Hunt?” Kendra asks, and Cae jumps in his seat at his desk.

  “Sorry…what?” He murmurs, his face flustered and his blue eyes sticky with the remnants of sleep.

  “Did you have a late night or something?” Asks the police chief as she comes to sit down opposite her detective. Kendra throws her booted feet up onto his desk and crosses them over with a grin.

  “Or something,” Cae answers gingerly.

  He had stayed at the House of Cards to watch the whole of Zerafina Xiao’s performance, but the intense contortionist had vanished in a puff of theatrical smoke at its end, leaving Lady Locke to tell Cae that he would have to be properly introduced to her tonight at the grand unveiling of Cara. Cae is to arrive at eight o’clock precisely to preside over the reveal and keep his keen eyes peeled for crooks and conspirators who might want to take the rare feline away.

  Cae struggles to drag his mind away from his new duties, and also from the blended bottle of white powder that will be waiting for him as his reward. He pulls his gloved hand up through his black hair and shakes his face a little.