Chapter 2
1802 Words
2
“But how?” Nena persisted.
Jack opened his mouth, but a slight screech sounded over the intercom outside the room. Azazel’s voice echoed up and down the hall. “Mr. O’Kent and company, will you please report to Mr. Scratch’s office immediately. Thank you.”
“Looks like our little investigation will have to wait,” Jack mused as he straightened. His eyes flickered between his companions. “Now remember, be on your guard. If we could save our information, then I’d bet the field that old Scratch did, too, so he’s just as privy to what we know.”
The group left Peter’s room and made the trip down to the lowest floor where Scratch waited for them in his office. He sat in his chair with Azazel seated on the edge of the desk in front of him. In her hand was a large vanilla folder.
“What’s up?” Jack asked them.
“We have a job for you,” she announced as she held out the folder.
Jack took it and flipped open the front. He scanned the contents and arched an eyebrow before his eyes flickered up to the pair of bosses before them. “What do a bunch of dead businessmen have to do with the Agency’s mission?”
“They’re all board members from the same company, one we’ve been watching closely as their dealings in the Dark Market have grown exponentially over the last five years,” Azazel explained.
“The Dark Market?” Nena repeated.
“It’s where forbidden objects such as books and medallions are passed from hand-to-hand,” Azazel told her. “Those items would include books of magical spells, talismans that can revive a human body, and the like.”
“Things that Scratch gave to his pets who handed it down to their lackeys through the ages,” Jack spoke up.
A small smile slipped onto Scratch’s lips. “Yes, another positive side-effect of my dealings in the mortal world.”
“How’s that positive?” Nena questioned him.
“Commerce, my dear girl. My trinkets have created a thriving market,” he pointed out.
Jack glared at him. “Yeah, it’s a great benefit to the world to create zombies and death curses, but the Dark Market is something that the Parasquad usually manages. Why should we care?”
Scratch leaned back and pressed the tips of his fingers together as the humor fled from his face. “Because of the rather unusual way the two gentlemen were murdered.”
Azazel nodded to the folder he held. “Flip to the photographs in the back.”
Jack did as he was told and his friends gathered on either side of him. He reached the end where there were a half dozen crime scene photos. Nena gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.
Each photo showed a businessman lying on their backs with their open eyes staring lifelessly upward. Their mouths were also open, and from them poured forth a large supply of thick black tar. The liquid oozed down their chins and covered the pavement beneath them.
“The official coroner’s report is that the men died from drowning,” Azazel told them.
Nena looked up from the horrible sight and lowered her hand. “In the middle of the street?”
She folded her arms over chest and grinned. “Yes, and the liquid in which they drowned was ink. We managed to get a sample of the ink and found it was full of large quantities of Corruption material.”
“What happened to the bodies?” Jack asked her.
“They were properly disposed of via cremation to prevent complete Corruption, but our concern is that these killings will continue and an instance will arise where we won’t have the means to prevent a typical burial,” she mused.
“And I bet this is ruining that wonderful Dark Market,” Jack added.
Scratch leaned back and furrowed his brow. “There are murmurs among the more prominent dealers that there is a market-wide curse on high officials, but that is currently being squelched. We wouldn’t want a panic that would arouse the suspicion of the normal human operations.”
“Of course not,” Jack quipped as he shut the folder. “So who do we talk to first about this?”
“You have an appointment with the president of the company this evening at six,” Azazel told them. “She has been informed that you are investigators brought in from outside the police department to handle the cases, and she’s already agreed to cooperate fully.”
“Are we sure she isn’t the culprit?” he pointed out.
Azazel smiled. “We’ll leave that up to you. That will be all.”
The companions turned toward the doors, but Scratch’s voice stopped their leaving. “Oh, there is one more thing.” The group paused and half-turned to their boss. His eyes flickered between them and a strained smile stretched his lips. “It seems there’s been a few instances of destructive activity around Peter’s room. You don’t happen to know anything about the damage, do you?”
Jack grinned and shook his head. “Not a thing, now if you’ll excuse us-” he held up the folder, “-we have a job to do.”
They left the office and stepped into the elevator. The doors closed and the elevator began its long ascent to the parking garage.
Nena stood on Jack’s left with Peter on his right. He stared straight ahead at the doors. She glanced up at him and opened her mouth, but he pressed a finger to his lips before he pointed up at the right-hand corner above the number pad. A small round white ball with a glass eye watched them. Nena shut her mouth and stared ahead like the others.
The elevator took them to the parking garage where they slipped into the dark sedan with Peter at the wheel and Jack as co-pilot. Nena took the back seat. They sped out of the garage and into the cool night air.
She leaned forward between the seats. “So when can we talk?”
Jack glanced at Peter. “Is the car clean?”
Peter nodded. “Yes. I have destroyed all the microphones and listening devices.”
“So you think Scratch knows that we know about the info?” she asked her companions.
Jack chuckled. “Definitely. That question he asked was just a ‘friendly’ warning that he knows we have more info than we’re supposed to.”
“So what do we do?” she wondered.
Jack leaned back in his seat and opened the folder on his lap. “Nothing. Scratch doesn’t know how much we have, or even what we have, so that still gives us the advantage.”
Nena nodded at the open folder in front of Jack. “You think this is just a distraction?”
He furrowed his brow as he flipped through the police case files on each of the three victims. “I don’t know. If the Corruption reports are true than we’re dealing with a Death Shadow that really hates a single business.”
Peter’s eyes flickered to Jack. “Perhaps there is another source for the Corruption.”
Jack raised his head and frowned at him. “I think the Death Shadow theory is bad enough, so let’s just stick with that one. Besides, maybe it’s the Owl doing it, or maybe it’s that Merry Men hacker group doing a test-run with this virus.”
“What other source would there be besides them?” Nena asked them.
Jack closed the folder and shook his head. “Nothing. Anyway, there’s something rather unusual about the makeup of the board.”
“What would that be?” Peter inquired.
Jack held up the folder. “According to these documents there were only four board members, and that’s counting the president.”
Nena shrugged. “What’s wrong with that number? Bad luck in the Dark Market world?”
“That means there’s no tie-breaker,” he pointed out. “And I have a hard time believing they got along well enough that they didn’t need one.”
“A silent partner?” Peter suggested.
Jack gave a nod. “That was my guess, and it might explain the murders. Now step on it, Pete. We’ve got an appointment to keep.”
It was just before six o’clock when they reached the headquarters of the business. The structure was located downtown, but the hour was after office hours so that there was very little traffic as they parked on the curb in front of their destination. The name of the corporation was emblazoned in bright, electric letters on the front of the forty-floor building.
“‘Agate Associates?’” Nena read aloud.
Jack scanned the letters himself and chuckled. “I guess they think it’s witty.”
“Isn’t an agate just a rock?” she wondered.
“A rock with historically powerful magic,” Peter told her. “In ancient times witches harnessed that magic to cast curses on their enemies.”
“So can they still use it?” she asked them.
“Fortunately, they forget how to a couple of centuries ago,” Jack revealed as he opened his door. “Otherwise, there’d be a Dark Market for that stuff alone.”
They stepped out of the car and walked up the long, low steps to the front doors. The lobby lights were on, but the electric doors didn’t open. Jack knocked on the glass doors. A hefty security guard with a speckling of donuts on his uniform stood from his seat behind a desk on their right and walked over.
“What do you want?” he asked through a mouthful of the delicious confectionery treat.
“We have an appointment to meet with a Miss Leticia Faye,” Jack told him.
The guard scoffed. “Do you, now? She didn’t send any message down to the desk about it.”
“Try looking for it underneath the donut crumbs,” Jack suggested.
The guard stiffened and raised himself to his full, chubby height. “I think you guys need to leave. Right now.”
Jack turned to Peter. “Pete, care to do the honors?”
Nena noticed a flicker of silver slip out from beneath Peter’s coat and slam through the bottom of the glass door. They darted over to the desk and she watched in bemused horror as papers went flying.
“What the-?” the guard yelped as he leapt back and inspected the tiny shards of glass on his side of the door. He pressed his hand against the gun at his belt as he knelt down to study the strange phenomenon. “What the hell happened here?”
One of the many papers on the desk floated up and across the floor. Nena noticed a sliver of silver stuck to the high corner before the piece dropped the paper a foot from the security guard. The paper floated down and landed with a neat slide onto the floor in front of him.
The man started back before he gawked at the paper. He picked it up and examined the contents before he raised his wide eyes to the trio. “T-this is the notice for your arrival.”
“Then open the door,” Jack advised him.
The security guard struggled to his feet and hurried over to his desk. He paused and stared in befuddlement at the disarray before he pressed a button beneath the top. The door slid open and the three stepped inside. The man nodded at the elevators in front of them.
“Miss Faye is near the top floor, thirty-nine,” he told them.
“What’s on forty?” Jack asked him.
He frowned at the inquiry. “That’s none of your business, now go on up before I boot you out for trespassing.”
Jack grinned and bowed his head before they set off for the elevators.
- Writer
