Page 68 of Fortune's Ashes
I thought about the open window I’d discovered at Supe Squad only a few hours hours before Alan Cobain was killed. Stubman’s job meant that he’d have been in the perfect position to know about the window. He could have climbed in during his break and picked off a few strands of hair from the brush I kept in my desk drawer. He’d also have known when the Supe Squad office was empty because he could watch all our comings and goings. And his uniform was a top hat and tails – just like the café owner had described when he’d mentioned the human who’d been seen with Quincy.
I told myself that I was clutching at straws; there was no actual evidence of anything illegal. All the same, when I looked out of the shopping centre window at the disgust Stubman was displaying towards Tallulah, a chill shuddered through me. If nothing else, his presence merited further investigation.
I ran out of the shopping centre and thudded along the same path I’d looped around before. When I reached the front of the block of flats, I paused at the main door and studied the labelled row of buzzers to the right of it. The entrance was supposed to be blocked to anyone who didn’t have a key or who wasn’t buzzed through, but the wooden wedge propping the door open suggested that security wasn’t taken very seriously. Anybody could stroll in.
I ran my eyes down the buzzers again. There were only flat numbers, not residents’ names, so it was impossible to learn if Stubman actually lived here. I nudged open the door slightly so I could slip inside and immediately saw the slim letterboxes along one side of the tiny lobby. Stubman’s name was third from the bottom. Flat 2D.
I set my mouth in a grim line, then I spun away from the tiny lift and headed for the stairs.
Nobody was in the stairwell. Instead of going directly to Stubman’s flat, I took the time to go up and down the whole staircase to make sure nobody was lurking behind any of the exit doors. Despite the large windows and the clean floors, the air smelled stale – it appeared that the residents of this building usually opted for the lift. But there was a good view of Tallulah. She was sitting in the same spot where I’d left her and there was no sign yet of Devereau Webb. I reckoned the view from flat 2D would be even better.
I returned to the second floor, just as my phone rang. Lukas. He’d probably found Candace and was calling to update me with the information she’d provided. Instead of answering, I sent him a quick text; my burner phone possessed a message function, if nothing else.Can’t talk now. Will call back in 15 mins.Then,Love you.
I opened the door and walked down the corridor until I found 2D. My phone buzzed as Lukas texted back.Love you more.I smiled, pocketed the phone and rapped sharply on the door to Stubman’s flat. Come out, come out, wherever you are.
There was no answer. I frowned and knocked again. Still nothing. Irritated, I pressed my ear against the wood and listened. Had Stubman somehow seen me coming? Was he hiding inside? I strained my ears but I couldn’t hear so much as a whisper from beyond the door.
I pulled back and gazed at the lock. I could break the door down. Once upon a time, I wouldn’t have possessed the strength to manage such a feat without the right equipment to hand, but my phoenix powers meant that now I had more than enough power to kick it open. But I didn’t have a warrant, I was suspended from my job, and without anything other than coincidental circumstance, there was nothing to tie Stubman to anything illegal.
I hissed under my breath and padded back down the corridor to the stairwell, then peered out of the large window to see if I could glimpse Stubman still glaring out at Tallulah.
He wasn’t in his flat any longer – he was outside on ground level in the car park itself. I could see the top of his shiny head from here. I grimaced. While I’d been checking the stairs and taking my time, Stubman must have exited his flat and used the lift. I’d missed him by minutes.
My stomach churned at the thought that he was deliberately avoiding me. I watched as he trudged along the pavement and paused to pick up something from the ground. He hefted it in his hand and then his stance changed. He turned, drew back his hand and threw the object towards Tallulah. A stone – the bastard was throwing a stone at my little car. He knew too much about her to get too close but there was no denying what he’d done.
The stone smacked into Tallulah’s rear windscreen. I couldn’t see if it had done any damage but I no longer cared. I stopped wasting time turning over my suspicious thoughts and took off, hurtling down the stairs to catch up with him.
I ran at full pelt, taking several steps at a leap more than once. When I finally reached the ground floor, I threw myself at the entrance door. Unfortunately, I was too focused on my target and not what was immediately in front of me, and I collided with a woman carrying two heavy bags of shopping. She let out a surprised oof and dropped the bags. Apples and oranges rolled down the narrow pavement outside the building. Shit.
‘Sorry!’ I darted for the escaping fruit, scooped it up and returned it to one of her bags.
‘You should bloody watch where you’re going!’
‘You’re right. I’m sorry,’ I said again, handing her a tin of tomatoes. She snatched it from me and I splayed my hands out in contrition. Then, before she could berate me some more, I wheeled around her stiff, angry body and started running again.
Stubman was no longer in the car park. I left Tallulah where she was and darted to the main road, emerging through the narrow street until I had a clear view. I glanced up and down. There were bobbing heads and passing cars everywhere, but then I saw Stubman walking briskly across the road with his hands in his pockets. From the pace he was maintaining, he was in a hurry. I wasn’t going to let him run away. I inhaled deeply and ran after him.
He disappeared down a side street as I reached the crossing. Reminding myself that I no longer had only myself to look after, and that getting hit by a passing car wasn’t a good idea, I waited with growing frustration for a break in the traffic. It seemed to take forever but finally the lights changed. I sprinted across the road and turned into the same street Stubman had disappeared down moments earlier.
There was no sign of him. My feet came to a stuttering halt.
There were several small businesses lining the street: a tattoo artist with some intriguing designs displayed in the window; a swanky hotel called the Bell Plaza; a barber’s, and a dusty-looking antique shop. Small roads branched off to the left and right. I wove in and out of the passers-by, glancing through the shop windows and peering down the streets, but I couldn’t see Stubman anywhere.
The more time passed, the more convinced I was that he was trying to hide from me. Naturally, that only increased my determination to find him. I paused to peer down one of the wider streets and pushed myself onto my toes to get a better view over the heads of the passers-by. As I did so, I heard a loud crash from somewhere behind me.
I spun around to look. Directly in front of me was a dark alleyway. Of course there was. It was squeezed between two buildings and barely a metre wide. Rubbish bins and discarded piles of wooden pallets blocked some of the view. I pursed my lips; it was an ideal hiding place. I’d probably have walked right past it if I hadn’t heard the crash.
I started moving down it, stepping carefully over the litter and shimmying past the pallets that almost blocked my path. The alleyway seemed to be blocked off by a wall, a dead end. If Stubman had swung down here because he wanted to hide from me, I’d find him. And soon.
As I began to march more quickly, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I ignored it and kept my focus on what was ahead. That supe-hating bastard couldn’t run forever.
There was even more rubbish near the end of the alleyway and I had to squeeze around it to avoid snagging my trousers on rusty nails and sharp spikes of wood that jutted out dangerously. Suddenly my foot landed in a grubby puddle, soaking my shoe. Cursing, I glanced down – and spotted an old leather wallet nestled against a pile of discarded aluminium tins.
I bent down to scoop it up and take a closer look. When my fingers brushed against the leather, I sensed movement behind me – and I knew with sinking horror that I’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book. A split second later, before I could tense my body in preparation, something swung down on the back of my head. A flash of bright, white, blinding pain pierced my skull before the world spun and everything went black.
* * *
Damp was seepingthrough my trousers and chilling my skin, and the throbbing pain in my head was almost unbearable. I groaned aloud, turned on my back and opened my eyes. I sucked in a breath at the sight of a blurry face peering down at me. So I hadn’t been shot yet, then and this wasn’t the Cassandra vision I’d seen earlier. Relief flooded through me.
