Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (13 page)

BOOK: Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
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“What are they saying it was?” I said.

“Rogue cop,” Eli said, shaking his head.

“Damn,” said Gage. “That’s cold. I feel for that guy’s family. They’re gonna go the rest of their lives thinking that guy was a killer.”

“Thought you hated cops,” I said.

He shrugged. “Some of ‘em are okay, I guess.” He nodded at Eli.

Eli left, the door squeaking behind him. I looked over at Sam’s booth, but Sam wasn’t there any more.

“Did you know your boyfriend was a demon?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said. “And he’s a half-demon. And how did you know? I just found out today.”

“I can just tell,” said Gage, finishing his beer. “Where to, sis?”

“We have to talk to Sasha again,” I said. “Sam seems to suspect that the murders and Abaddon have something to do with each other.”

“Yeah, he told me that too,” said Gage, grabbing his army surplus jacket off the back of his stool. “That guy that hated you is dead.”

“Yeah, along with the judge that nailed my dad to the wall,” I said.

“Don’t look good for him,” said Gage.

“Or me,” I said. “I’m guessing that if it weren’t for this job I’d be in cuffs right now.” I jumped off my stool and held out my hand. “Keys?” I said.

“Why? My car.”

“You’ve been drinking,” I said. “Don’t make me get ugly, Gage.”

“It was only one beer,” he said, but tossed me a key chain with two keys on it.

 

We asked for Lou Craig when we got to the prison.

“Last time we talked,” I said, “you said the warden was bragging about meeting with the mayor.”

“Yeah,” he said. “He does that.”

We were making our way down to Solitary. Craig was his usual helpful self, ready, he said, to help us in any way that was needed. “Has he mentioned, exactly, how he knows Mayor Delaney?” I said.

“Not really,” said Craig. “Just spouts off about business lunches and similar lines of bull. Hang on a sec,” he said, frowning. “This ain’t right.” We had arrived in the basement, empty cells on either side of us. I followed his gaze and realized what had startled him. At the end of the hall, where my father’s cell was, Bailey was missing.

“Is that normal?” said Gage. “To have him unguarded.”

“Ain’t no normal around here,” said Craig. “But it ain’t usual. Bailey never leaves Slobodian’s side. I don’t think he even goes home.”

We hurried down to get to the cell on the end, but when we got there, I wasn’t surprised. My dad was gone. His cell was empty.

Craig called in on his radio. “Hey, Charlie, you know anything about Slobodian being moved?”

“I never heard anything,” came the tinny reply. “Why?”

“Because he’s gone, that’s why,” said Craig.

“I’ll call around,” said the voice of Charlie.

“You’re going to have to call the warden,” Craig said into the walkie. “Sorry, bro. Try his office first, though I haven’t seen him today.”

A few moments went by without any reply. Finally the scratchy voice came across again. “All right. Hang on.”

“I want to talk to the warden in person,” I said. “You have no idea how bad this is.”

The scratchy voice came back on. “No answer in his office, Lou. I’ll try him at home.”

Craig looked at us. “Sorry, I guess he’s not here. I could tell you where he lives, though.”

“What the hell kind of way is this to run a prison?” said Gage. “You got murderers in here. Psychos. Why is this warden getting away with so much shit? “

“I agree with you,” said Craig. “Fact, after you were here last time I made a decision. I’m quitting. I’ll work for low wages if I have to, but this is no way to live.”

“Good man,” said Gage.

Craig shrugged. “No one questions nothing any more. This is some crazy world. I’m afraid for my daughter. Want me to take you to the warden’s office?”

“Great,” said Gage. “We can raid his liquor cabinet. Think he has any cigars?”

“I think he’s more the box of wine and cigarette type, but you can sure check,” said Craig.

“Before we go,” I said. “Let me into the cell, Craig. I just want to have a quick look around.”

The bed was neatly made, and creaked as I sat on it. I looked around the small space. There was an element of extreme tidiness to the small room. There were a few belongings placed with excruciating neatness and symmetry along a shelf: a sketchpad, a small notebook, a few worn-looking books, a stack of letters. There was a ceramic cat I recognized from Sofi’s collection, and it had not a jot of dust on it. On the wall were taped a few photographs, and dozens of articles and black-and-white pictures clipped from a newspaper. The photographs were mostly Sasha with various people from his past. One with him and his former right-hand man, Nazar Polzin. As a girl I’d called him Uncle Naz and his tattoos had fascinated me. I didn’t understand until I was older why Sofi had disliked him so much.

The next was a picture of Sasha and my mother that shocked me. It was taken shortly after they were married, she looking every bit the fresh-faced girl of eighteen that she was, and he looking smug. The third photo was a much older Sasha with his arm around none other than Norah Delaney. Even through the graininess of the old Polaroid I could tell by Sasha’s eyes that it had been taken in the days he’d been drinking heavily. I pulled it off the wall and looked at the back. In a woman’s handwriting were the words,
For Sasha.
I stuffed it into the pocket of my coat. The last photo was of me just after we came to America. It was taken at the apartment where Sofi and I first lived. At first glance the girl in the picture looked like a normal, though solemn, little girl. But I knew to look for the sadness behind the eyes, the fixed serious expression that gave away nothing of the horror I had witnessed only too recently. I put this picture in my pocket as well, but only so I could look away from it.

I turned my attention to the articles plastering the walls. They were mostly about Sasha and his trial. He had been the first Abnormal criminal ever successfully prosecuted, and it had been a huge deal. Sofi had home schooled me for the entire eighth grade because it became impossible for someone named Slobodian to exist in public schools at the time. I skimmed the articles, but then came across a surprise. He had also saved the articles written about me during my paranormal trial. Another Slobodian on the Registry. And I thought he didn’t care. Freaking peachy.

“Find anything, sis?” said Gage from the other side of the bars.

“Just a bunch of articles,” I said. “Mostly about his trial.”

“Guy holds a grudge, huh?” he said.

“Yep,” I said. I picked up the sketch pad and leafed through it. It was completely filled up with sketch after sketch of one face. Mine. I threw it back on the shelf in disgust. “Is there any surveillance video of this cell block, Craig?” I said. I stepped out of the cell to face the two men.

“As it happens, ma’am,” said Craig, “the warden monitors this particular area pretty well. No one else is supposed to see it, though.”

“Why?” said Gage.

“Have I known why anything is the way it is? ” said Craig. “I have no idea.”

“Where’s the camera?” I said. Craig pointed it out, a tiny black box attached to the ceiling outside Sasha’s cell. It was pointing directly at us. “The warden monitors this himself?”

“Far as I know,” said Craig. “Has a little set-up in his office.”

“Just so you know what you’re getting into, Lou,” said Gage, “the warden’s probably not gonna like you telling us all this. Might be hard to find another job.”

Craig shrugged. “Probably. But I just don’t care anymore. Country’s gone to shit, we’ve turned against our fellow citizens, and I work for Warden Jeffries, who thinks the dawn of New Government shines out of his ass. Forgive me if I’m just damn sick of it all. I’ll take anything over this. My family and I will get by.”

Craig showed us to the warden’s office. He unhooked a giant ring of keys from his belt and fit a large brass one into the lock. It didn’t budge.

Craig raised his eyebrows. “He must have changed the locks,” he said.

“Stand back,” I said. I kicked the thin wood door with my steel-toed boot and the wood splintered immediately. I reached my hand through the boot-sized hole and unlocked the bolt from the inside.

“Enjoyed that, didn’t you?” said Gage. “Feel better now?”

“A little bit,” I said.

The warden’s office was as cluttered as Sasha’s cell was neat. The nameplate on the desk told me his name was Donald C. Jeffries, Warden, and the family portrait in a frame propped up next to it told me that he was a short wiry man with a red face and an unfortunate bushy mustache.

Craig saw me looking at the photo. “That’s his ex-wife,” he said. “They’ve been divorced for a couple of years now.”

The rest of the desk was covered in a half-inch of dust and messy mounds of papers. I counted three moldy cups of coffee. It looked as though Donald C. Jeffries had been neglecting his work. No surprise there. The only clean spot in the office was a corner table that held a desktop computer and monitor. I assumed this was where he watched the surveillance. The desktop looked to be still on and I flicked on the monitor to find I was right. A black and white image of the cell we’d just come from showed up on the monitor. Numbers superimposed in the lower corner of the image showed the date and time.

“Time machine,” I said.

“What does that mean?” said Gage.

“It means let’s go back and find out what the bloody hell is going on.”

I’d done some surveillance for my PI job in the past and I quickly figured out how to pause the recorder, load a file, and play back the recording. Gage pulled up a chair and watched.

“Do you want me to go?” said Craig.

“Nah,” I said. “I might have some questions and you’ve been very helpful. Unless you want to go?”

“To tell the truth, it feels good to finally do some good,” he said. He leaned against the warden’s desk and watched us.

“I’m going back a few days to the night the seal was broken,” I said. I glanced at Craig, worried about his reaction. “Craig, this may be shocking to you if you’re a Normal,” I said.

He raised an eyebrow and gave me a cockeyed grin. “Ma’am, nothing shocks me anymore. Judge not, and all that.”

I wound the footage back to the night in question. “What time do you think? Approximately,” I said.

“Midnight,” said Gage. “Sam was specific about that. Said Summoners always work exactly at midnight. They think they have more power or something.”

“I’m going back to 10 p.m.” I said. After a minute of watching Sasha lying motionless on his cot, I sped up the footage.

“Whoa,” said Gage, pointing at a figure that had waddled onto the screen. “Freeze it. Who’s that?”

I paused the footage just as the man looked right at the camera. The warden couldn’t help smiling a wicked little smile for his own private movie. “Just like the picture on the desk,” I said. “That’s the warden.”

Craig peeked over my shoulder. “That’s him all right,” he said.

“Looks like a sweaty walrus with that mustache,” said Gage.

“That is an accurate depiction, sir,” said Craig.

“What’s he doing?” I said, playing the footage again. The warden pulled out a set of keys similar to Craig’s and unlocked the cell door. Sasha stood up to meet him and the two shook hands and walked out into the hall, my father wiping his hand on his pants as the two walked out of the shot.

“That don’t seem like something a prison warden should be doing,” said Gage. “And all by his lonesome, too. What time was that?”

I looked at the clock in the bottom corner of the screen, scrolling up in military time. “23:02, so 11:02 PM,” I said.

“If your dad broke the seal, why was the warden helping him?” Gage said.

“Your dad?” said Craig.

“Oh,” I said. I looked at Gage. He shrugged. I turned around to face Craig. “You’ve been straight with us, so I’ll be straight with you,” I said. “My name is Niki Slobodian. My father is Alexei Slobodian. We’re looking for him because we think he let something out of Hell. Something very bad. Any questions?”

“Nope,” said Craig, not missing a beat.

“You don’t seem very surprised,” I said.

“Well, it explains why you looked at those pictures for so long. And I couldn’t place you before, but I recognize you now. I saw you in the papers last year, but that’s not where I know you from. I know you from the sketches in Slobodian’s book. Six months ago, before the warden went bats, I had to search Slobodian’s cell. I saw all his sketches.”

“So you’re on our side?” I said. “You can leave if you want to.”

“I’m good,” said Craig. He looked around probably more out of habit than actually afraid someone was listening. “I haven’t told you everything, Miss Slobodian. I got a daughter. She’s not exactly a Normal, if you catch my drift.”

I nodded. “Hard on a family,” I said.

“She’s a tough girl,” he said. “She means the world to me. That’s why I ain’t so keen on New Government. I fought for this job in the past, but enough’s enough. From now on I’m fighting for all of her kind. They can’t take away their rights if we don’t let them.”

BOOK: Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
3.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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