Chapter 15

Suspicions

Ben sat in his office thinking about the phone call and warning his friend had given. He had already figured on Nightshade being a slippery character, was it possible that he was a murderer as well? What little information he had was so maddeningly vague. There was no evidence to tie him to anything because he operated so carefully. A dozen investigations and no arrests or convictions of any kind had been leveled. This spoke of a highly intelligent and resourceful criminal, a regular Moriarty of crime. And he had the upper hand in this engagement.

That last thought caused him to sit up at his desk straight. There had to be a way. To his mind, there was no criminal clever enough to keep from leaving some kind of trail. One way or the other, they all eventually get cocky, or something goes wrong, and they all get caught. The trick here was to do so in a manner that would keep the town from going under.

A sudden commotion outside interrupted his thoughts and he leaned back in his chair with a sigh. He knew he hadn't got away with it, Nightshade had made him early. A bit of chagrin came to him. Well, it served him right for going in there half-cocked with his badge at the gate. Might as well get this over with. He pressed the intercom. "Mike, go ahead and let him in. We can't keep the mayor waiting after all."

There was an unintelligible reply and his door slammed open to admit a rather angry Greg into the office. He strode over to the chair and tossed his coat on it before plopping into the seat. He wasted no time for pleasantries, a quality Ben actually liked about him, before coming straight to the point. "Ben, I thought I told you not to go snooping around Nightshade's show!" he took a deep breath and plunged on with a grimace. "The man pulled me into his office just after I had made it with a delegation from the City Council. He told me of your reckless escapade…his exact words mind you…" A brief grin crossed his face before he continued, "…and asked me to warn you not to do so, as you could have gotten hurt poking around a damaged ride. Oh, by the way, he wants to know what you were looking for as he might be able to help next time."

Ben waited for the mayor to wind down before replying casually, "I think Nightshade knows about the girls." And he leaned back to watch the results. He was not disappointed. The mayor sagged around his bones as he sat back heavily in the chair. "Damn." He whispered. "For a while there I had thought that he hadn't seen them at all." His eyes came up to Ben's with horror. "It was that street." He said woodenly. "It has to be. There's been no other chance for him to find out." Alarm suddenly gripped his face. "Ben, do you think he knows where they are?"

Ben shook his head, although inside he felt a nagging worry. What if he did find out? He made a mental note to increase his patrols out that way, and then decided against it. Extra patrols in that area would be a glaring arrow pointed right towards the girls. He couldn't take the risk. Anonymity was their best defense now. Well that, and his aggressive offense.

"Listen Greg, I got a call this evening from my old academy captain. You remember that when I took this job, I had eight years in the MPs, and another 4 from Philly?" Greg waved that away impatiently, and Ben continued on. "Well, we've kept in touch over the years, and now it looks like it's paid off. There have been a lot of disturbing rumors about that particular circus. According to the reports, when that circus comes to a city or town, its underground suddenly becomes glutted with dope, ecstacy, and a host of other illegal substances. However, there's never any proof of wrongdoing on the part of the circus. This man is clearly a shrewd operator who knows how to cover his tracks."

Greg had the look of a man seeing a gun pointed at him and waiting for the trigger to be pulled. "Is there…" he began hoarsely. Taking a quick gulp he continued a little stronger. "Is there any doubt that the circus is the cause?" Ben shook his head. Greg seemed to collapse on the far end of the chair. "Damn." He whispered. "I thought that if he had seen the girls he might have simply refused to believe his eyes, or at worst demand an explanation. This could devastate us though." His eyes seemed to lose focus as if staring at the consequences.

Ben felt no satisfaction in proving how right he was. He looked at his friend with pity. Fool or not, the mayor was a friend. And while the city council was mostly to blame, no doubt it would be Greg who would pay for it. He felt a brief stab of anger at them for that, Greg was a decent guy who wanted what was best for the city, and that they had roped him into this farce was proof that none of them had the common sense God gave a baby duck!

While revenge against the city council would be wonderful, it would not help Greg out in the long run. Regretfully, he put the visions of revenge out of his head and reached into his drawer. Inside was a bottle of Jack Daniel's No. 7 Malt Whiskey. The bottle was still sealed, despite having been bought months ago. Everyone knew that he never drank while on duty, but today would be a special case. Taking out two shot glasses from the back of the drawer, he poured a generous splash in each.  Re-corking the bottle, he returned it to the drawer. He offered one glass to his friend and held the other close. "Here Greg," he said kindly. "Have a shot of this. It'll pick you up and get you moving again." Greg gratefully accepted the drink and tossed it back. Ben leaned back as Greg gasped out his thanks. Taking his drink, he gently drank it down. The smooth whiskey tingled his tastebuds and gave him a warm feeling from the pit of his stomach. Taking the glass back from Greg, he set both on the table next to him. He would go to the bathroom and wash them after the meeting.

The whiskey appeared to have done the trick. Color began to bloom back in the mayor's cheeks, and he offered a wan smile to Ben. "Okay. This is a serious problem. What are we going to do now?" He asked. He began ticking points off on his fingers. "First, we know that Nightshade appear to have spotted the kids. That's very bad. Second, we know he has the town over the barrel with the deal made prior to his arrival. Failure to recoup his losses means that the town will have to pay, and we don't have that kind of money at all. Third, he could use the kids as blackmail to make us pay regardless, and the Council will most likely find out. Though that begs the question." His eyes shot up from his fingers to meet Ben's level gaze. "Why hasn't he already asked for blackmail? Why hold off?"

Ben worried at the question for a while in his mind, but could come up with no satisfactory answer. "Perhaps," he said reluctantly, "He is simply waiting until the time for his departure comes due. IF he thinks he can get a better deal by waiting, he might take the opportunity to do so." Greg nodded slowly as he thought about the answer. Ben thought the reasoning was flawless; Nightshade struck him as the type to wait until the time when he could get the biggest payoff. If he waited until the mayor had more money in the town treasury from the carnival, then he could extort more. Still, something was nagging that this wasn't quite right, but he couldn't think of what it could be. Whatever the nagging voice was saying, it simply wasn't getting through. He filed the worry away to look at more closely at a later date. Now he had to reassure the mayor as the Chief.

Leaning back in his chair, he folded his hands over his belly and tried to project an air of confidence to the mayor. "Listen, I think there might be a chance for all of this to turn out all right, if we're careful." Greg looked at him hopefully. All right, you moron. You have his attention, now prove how smart you are." He took a deep breath. Now it was his turn to count off points. "First, we keep his circus monitored. That should be easy, half my department has already made plans to visit, and the rest are simply waiting for the others to get back to take their turns. I'll have a private word with a few of them and tell them to keep their eyes peeled for any signs of wrongdoing. I'll enforce that they are not to investigate anything they do find, just report it to me. It's obvious that Nightshade has electronic surveillance of his circus, I spotted at least three cameras on the way in. With the footage of all my people wandering around his show, this means he's going to be more careful in the way he does business. If we're lucky, I'll be able to keep him off balance that the most he's going to be able to do is ask you to get me off his back. I'll respond by simply saying my guys want to view the circus and that off-duty I have no more control over them then the next man. That should hopefully keep mischief down to a minimum while he's here."

Greg looked thoughtful. "That might work." He said slowly. He cocked his head slightly, as if struck by something. "What about drug deliveries to our local thugs? Has there been any sign or word?"

Ben grimaced. He knew that had turned up negative so far, but it had to be only a matter of time before it happened. "Not yet." He said. "I've tried picking up extra patrols to intercept any shipments, but the gangs are acting smart. We can't even find half of them, though I suspect they're all "visiting" the good ringmaster in his show."

Greg nodded thoughtfully. "Listen Ben, do what you gotta do. Just keep those drugs off our streets, and that creep away from the girls." Ben nodded grimly. Oh, yeah. He was going to do that all right, the question was, how?

As soon as the mayor had left, he leaned back in his stuffed desk chair. He pulled out a leopard-print bean bag he used as practice for hand-eye coordination. Absently, he began tossing it into the air and catching it, before tossing it into the air again. What were the major obstacles to investigating Nightshade? The bloody fact he had the entire city under his thumb! That was a serious sore point for him. How could those idiots agree to the conditions that scum had dictated? Oh yes, he mimicked to himself, the town was dying, it needed funds desperately enough that they would have bargained with the devil for cash. Idiots!

Taking a deep breath, he almost missed catching the beanbag. Fumbling slightly, he recovered and the bag made its steady rhythm again. Okay, hating the council was nice…but it certainly wasn't going to fix the situation. The original plan he had come up with Greg was a good one. Most of his officers were heading down to the circus as soon as they got off shift. A quiet word to a few of them would have them looking around the show for suspicious activity. Well, most of them. He was none too sure he could trust them to stay out of that harem dancer tent! The mere thought of them caused him to flush in embarrassment. He had never had to work vice while in the corps, or while on the streets, so he had been unprepared for that! Perhaps a strong word or two with some of the single officers would help?

While the plan was good, he seriously doubted it would have any real effect. With all those video cameras, Nightshade was sure to keep a close eye on all his men. He would be a full step ahead of them no matter what they did. Still, it would force him to be discreet. Possibly even desperate enough to try something that would end up with him getting nailed. Ah, now wouldn't that be pleasant?

That would take care of five men of his fifteen-man force. That would leave him pretty stretched in terms of patrols. Let's see, two-man patrols into the center of town and through the low-district, especially the wharf area, would mean the gangs would have to duck their heads a little more often. If he could have them continuously looking over their shoulders for his people, they might not be as willing to buy from Nightshade and risk everything.

Now for the girls. He couldn't detail anyone really to patrol that area. For one thing it was well off the beaten path, and any patrol there would automatically raise suspicions. However, one of the main speeder patrol routes was nearby. If he came up with a slight alteration to that route…call it a shakeup to catch speeders off guard…it might work.

Catching the beanbag, he tossed it into its drawer and began bellowing orders to the desk officer. There were things that had to be done if he was going to get this show on the road!

Nightshade read the sheet of hardcopy in front of him. His fingers tapped thoughtfully on the edge of the desk as he regarded the slip of rice paper that had come in an hour earlier. Again he read the message, although he could already quote it by heart. JONES IS INTERESTED IN TRADE. ARE YOU? The message had been delivered by a scrawny, tow-headed man who looked barely old enough to shave, but already was pierced and tattooed so heavily that Nightshade doubted there was any skin left to do. While he understood the status symbols and identification marks of tattoos in gangs, he personally doubted their value. It was so much easier to move unobtrusively in one's environment if one could change his skin. Tatts and piercings had the unfortunate disadvantage of making one easy to identify. In his opinion, becoming faceless and boring is much more valuable than being showy. This Jones character was most likely just like that wharf-rat, and no doubt swimming in ink. However, this would present an opportunity.

Nightshade was well aware that the mayor and chief of police had increased their surveillance of his show. The number of "off duty" cops in his place was a good indication of that. With his electronic eyes and ears, however, he could keep an excellent tab on their movements. He suspected the chief knew about his hidden cameras, and he almost smiled It added spice to this game in a way, a chance to keep from being boring. After his silly talk with the mayor, he could almost guarantee an increase in off-duty cops in his shows. With a bit of juggling, he should be able to get most of them into the harem tent. His girls were masters at their craft, and would easily be able to keep the numb-skulls entertained. That would stretch the coverage of the others thin. He could make a couple of small deliveries, nothing more than a kilo, and demand half a million for it. No doubt the fools would distribute it and the Chief would find out and would be looking at the source. He would no doubt tear the circus apart looking for proof, and that was exactly where Nightshade wanted him looking; in the circus and away from Brodrick Farms. He shook his head sadly. What fools to assume that would not be the first place he would look for the centaurs after they had moved. He had received confirmation that Big John had found the girls and was making preparations.

Smiling slightly, he reached for the phone. "Hello Sally? Get Ginger in here for me, will you?" She acknowledged with her usual curt, "Right.", and hung up. Well, he certainly wasn't paying her for her charming personality! But she had a touch, a genuine touch, for getting information out of even the most recalcitrant people. Generally there wasn't enough left over of people form her…interrogations. But that was the price for doing business. And she trained horses wonderfully well too!

There was a brief knock at the door and then Ginger, his head bolero dancer, sashayed into the office. A petite blonde beauty, she still had knockout figure that made her a natural at this work. She plopped herself into a chair with little of her usual grace however and smiled seductively at him. "Nightshade, you old rascall. Sally here tells me you have a job for my girls?"

Nightshade put on his best smile. Ginger responded best to sugar and honey, or she would grow petulant and sulky. "That's right. I have a little chore that should be right up your alley." Her smile broadened as he explained.