Night Shift

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. If you wait long enough, you'll see the meteor shower chase the clouds away with their bright falling streaks.

No one sees it, of course, unless you work the night shift. And very few leave their houses after dark where I live, much to my chagrin. It's beautiful out here in the very early morning. But my job's much closer to the mainland, so I fly into the city and land in time to relieve the second shift at my office, up the stairs of the back alley.

I could smell something in the air. A good case coming my way.

I had barely started my first pipe when the faint whiff of perfume wafted past the rich notes of tobacco, cocoa, and dried blood. That reminded me, I needed to wash the last case off my work boots later, but for now-

She came in just like they always arrive. Breathless and desperate, like it's right out of a movie. "Please, help me find my son!" she pleaded, and the door was barely open.

I raised my eyebrows, but I hid my inward flinch. I hoped this case wasn't related in any way to the last one, or I'd be delivering very bad news come morning.

She came prepared, which was unusual. A dossier held handwriting samples, recent pictures, her own notes about who he'd hung out with recently, and when. Locations, former college, known colleagues. My eyebrows went up again when I read the names. Many of them I knew, in an unsavory professional manner.

She nodded at my reaction. "I am scared. I know many of those names have turned up on the news as murder suspects. I am afraid that he's either a victim, or helped them. Either way, if you find him, I'll make sure he's completely removed from the situation."

"That's awfully drastic, lady. What do you know?"

"That he's dead, or in deep trouble, or up to his neck in collusion. Two of those three I can do something about." She dropped a heavy briefcase on the table. "A down payment. Let me know if you need more."

And she left.

Neat, tidy. Too tidy? I stored that thought away for future reference.

The thing I really needed she didn't bring, so I called my associate and met him at the usual place. After I stowed that money away in a safe spot. There was at least half a million USD in that satchel.

**************

The breeze was cold, but not as cold as the soul of my associate. He arrived, gray and gaunt as usual. I quietly brought him up to speed on what I knew as we walked to our missing kid's last known residence.

I took my time breaking in. Something wasn't adding up, and I didn't want to come down with a severe case of the deads on top of everything else. That would really mess up my day.

Not booby trapped, more's the relief. But definitely enough evidence to show where he'd been recently (not here in this apartment, if he'd ever been), what he was really up to (according to the "hidden" documents, which he didn't write), and where he was likely to be found at this moment (probably under Mumsie's watchful eye in some mansion, not having a clue this place existed). Well, it took some time for both of us to hunt down all the bits of info and add them up. When I was done, I caught my associate sniffing the socks out of the kid's hamper. I just rolled my eyes, and he dropped them as if he'd never held them. Hey, I don't kink shame in my line of work.

We both wondered if this stuff would even be here in twenty-four hours.

But time was a-wasting. I needed answers to the more pressing problem.

*****************

A good day's rest does wonders for an old body. But I'm still one of the best in the biz, and I like keeping it that way. So I hauled my carcass to a different meeting spot, and had a quiet discussion with my associate, to see what he'd dug up while I slept.

Very quiet. He signs, and is rather good at it. He's mute, not deaf. But never mention it to him in his line of sight if you want to live. He was outcast for asinine reasons, as was I. Ages ago we might have been dumb enough to try offing each other; teaming up was one of the best things we both have ever done.

I called my second shift guy and told him to get out early, and take anything he'd ever want to see again with him. I had a bad feeling, and I listen to them. I know all the places to watch for people approaching my office, of course. I've had to use them repeatedly to spot a tail. Sure enough, there were shadowy figures sneaking up soon after. They left quickly. I was disappointed. They were quiet, and I keep those stairs rickety for a reason. We were not surprised when my office exploded, closely followed by a second explosion where I'd hidden the money.

Correction: where I'd hidden only the satchel. The money I'd already removed, and deposited in a secure bank sans covering. I figured there was a tracker in the bag's lining, and I was right. There's a teller and manager that owe me a favor or five, and they'd open up way after hours when I ask nicely. I don't make it a habit. It was fun to watch their faces counting up over a half mil, and splitting it into two separate accounts. One for me, one for my associate, under assumed names. No questions asked, though you could tell they wanted to. And they checked diligently for ways to trace that money, some that even I didn't know. At my request, of course. If stuff went sideways, I didn't want anyone else caught in the crossfire. These two were much more targetable than me and my associate. Trace me, okay, you got a beef with me or my job. Trace the people who owe me favors? Now you've got some bigger problems, pal, and I collect with interest.

Sirens were getting nearer as we drifted after our shadowy friends - which led right to our favorite meeting spot, using the route I'd taken the night before. My client was playing hardball. Sure enough, It seems some people were prepared to meet us there, but packed inadequate munitions for the job. My associate got quite wet, and I took a shot or two to the Kevlar that glittered strangely in the light. My gun had proper lead bullets, like always, thank you very much. They're quite effective.

We also stashed the bodies so as not to raise awkward questions. Not that anyone cared much, since the other side of town was filling up with fire trucks and squad cars. We'd clean up smaller details later.

I wasn't about to confront the black widow in her lair, that was lunacy. Not that she'd left me her address in that dossier, mind you. Or her phone number. Interesting omissions, they were. But my associate knew this town like the back of his hand, so he texted a few of his pals from the gang he used to run. Once he'd explained who and what, they were more than eager to help set up an ambush for any we'd missed.

Some people can't live and let live. Some can't let go of the past.

Oh, I knew her name. She probably knew one of mine, too, from a while ago. But, hey, ya gotta go with the times. Civilization means everyone's gotta follow most of the rules, not ignore 'em if it's convenient. I only kill now when I have to. Same as my associate. I let my contacts in the detective bureau know, so they can keep a quiet count in a secret file. But killing for the sake of money, well, that's a hard no. She, like her father and grandfather, thought that money should talk louder than common decency. It didn't go well with them either, when I had to take them down. I didn't have my associate way back then, though her goons now knew something. Silver bullets aren't de rigueur for an ordinary contract hit.

Once his gang was ready, they told us where to show up. I made a call to my delightful client from a burner phone at the place they chose to have their fun. Someone owned an old bar, and it could stand to have a rough remodel, it seems. Too bad a gang fight would break out. Meet me here, I said. She took the bait, of course. She thought she could bring enough manpower to deal with the situation.

I have other connections, and I may have made some calls myself.

Like always, my pals took out my associate's enemies, and his buddies took out mine. It's a neat arrangement, that has suited us for a long, long time.

And I caught her alone, watching from a distance. I was wearing gloves and a lot of latex, so it didn't take long to disarm her and make sure she couldn't move a muscle. I move quite fast when I want to, and have access to some powerful paralyzing agents. I'd warned my associate, and he was nowhere. Her perfume's distinctive - heavy on the wolfsbane overtones. Quite disgusting. And I'm sure she was properly hydrated by drinking plenty of priest-blessed water.

She blinked from behind the spit mask and body suit I'd slipped her into, watching both gangs take out what was left of her soldiers. I helpfully propped her up to see the action. She almost cried when she saw their bodies divvied up between both groups. A good body cleanse at a spa that we use a lot, and they'd be good as new. Most of them weren't even dead yet.

I made sure she could use her voice a little, then asked, "So, did the kid even exist? Or is he at home, under lock and key?"

She sniffed. Her voice was muffled, but I could hear it quite well. "I would never allow him to be used as bait. He's at home. The apartment was all my idea."

"Nice setup. Too bad you missed quite a few things."

"What? Tell me!"

"Ha, not a chance. Wonderment is good for the soul." If she has one. There were still things she didn't know, then. Good. So she still didn't know about our keen senses of smell, both mine and my associate's. Finely tuned, to different frequencies. His is more like a bloodhound's, and mine's more like a forensic specialist. Both of us could detect the stale scents of clothing and sweat and - well, other young man stuff - that hadn't been touched in months, but the documents were made to look like he'd been living there all along. The musty odor from the bedsheets alone meant she'd set it up eight to ten months ago, when our previous case was quite active. "Did you instigate the other murders to set us up?"

Her silence was all I needed to know.

"I'll be having a word with my detective friends on that score." She was really crying now, I'd have to be careful how I moved her. I didn't want to know what it would do to me, but no way I was letting her get away after all this. I should be moving soon anyway, to get to a safe house before dawn. I always have a few bolt holes all over the city. I could pop her in one for a few days, see if anyone comes for her, while I rested up somewhere else. I'd have to find someone else to search her and check for trackers.

I wondered if we'd finally broken the chain. I wondered if her kid knew about any of this. And if he did, would tonight's work finally make them realize that enough was enough?

A little later, I was kicking my work shoes off in the corner of a small, clean, blessedly windowless closet. My associate had already texted me that he and his former gang were safe. A few had been wounded, but in such a way that they would heal. Same with my old family, they were fixed up and resting for the coming celebratory feast. Another enemy routed, and no one the wiser. My box awaited.

My associate once described what happens at dawn, how a mackerel sky interlaces like a lattice, then draws back and scatters to make room for a rising sun. He tried describing the sun as well, but no way. For the thousandth time, I just don't need to know some things. I'll stick to purple clouds and meteor showers, thanks all the same. That's all the sky lights I need. I don't need to mention the moon, my associate doesn't like having that thing mentioned.

I really needed to clean my shoes. They were making me hungry.