Dead Waters - Anton Strout [14]
The going got slower as we headed farther up to the East Side. Rain that lasted more than a few hours in Manhattan could bring the city to a dead stop, but at the moment we were at least maintaining a slow crawl through an ocean of traffic. Somewhere in the east Forties we turned right off of First Avenue and headed farther east than I usually traveled. I thought we might be heading into the East River itself, but then I noticed several large buildings filling the skyline.
All of them were towering—about ten in all—and looked like they all belonged to the same construction project, with each of them in various states of completion. Large straight towers of steel fit with bare construction bulbs rose above the slick black glass and modern steel architecture of the finished floors below. Only the center grouping of buildings looked finished and lit up from habitation.
Davidson pulled into the only finished arc of a drive that I could see, running through a small patch of unfinished landscaping that still managed to block the entrance view from the street. Several empty cop cars were already parked along the drive.
We stepped out of the police van and I held an umbrella out for Jane as she crawled under it with me. Davidson came around to our side with his own umbrella and looked up at the impressive size and design of the building.
“You sure this place is habitable?” I asked.
Davidson nodded. “Some of it,” he said. “There are several buildings going up for this whole development. About three of them are finished and already have occupants.”
Connor whistled as he joined us and took it all in. “How much is rent on this place?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Davidson said and started toward the entrance to the lobby. “Let’s just say I don’t think anyone with our government paychecks will be moving on up to the East Side to a deluxe apartment in the sky anytime soon.”
“Funny,” I said. “I figure with the kickbacks you see from helping out Sectarians and vampires, you’d be set up for life.”
Davidson stopped and turned on me. With the look on his face, I braced for him to launch into me. Instead, he pursed his lips and shook his head. “Not tonight, Simon,” he said. “We’re about to enter a building where some of the most prestigious people in Manhattan live and we’re going to be trying to investigate something discreetly. My interests are the Mayor’s, not my own. If you want to cut into someone, why don’t you write him a letter?”
“Like I need more paperwork?”
Davidson walked over to Connor. “I liked him better when he was still new,” he said. “At least then he followed your lead a bit before becoming irreverent.”
Connor shrugged. “What can I say? I trained him right.”
Davidson turned away from us all and headed into the building without waiting.
I turned to Connor. “Thanks, Dad,” I said. “Can I borrow the car?”
Connor headed for the building as well. “Don’t start that with me,” he said. “I get enough of that from Aidan. He acts like he’s actually eighteen sometimes.”
“But he is your older brother, right?” Jane asked.
“Vampires seem to have a very distorted sense of age and maturity,” Connor said, “because time doesn’t affect them quite the same. I think they get a really bad case of arrested development. How does one act their age when one is technically ageless?”
We hurried after Davidson and headed into the most finished of the buildings. The lobby was swanky with fresh leather furniture and a few choice art pieces that were actually tasteful. Davidson flashed an ID and our group hit the elevators, riding up until we got off on the twenty-seventh floor. A large assembly of police officers was gathered in the hallway nearby and we had to push past them before we found someone in charge. A uniformed officer in his forties with a little paunch nodded at Davidson. He eyed the three of us with the usual disdain that we were used to from the regular cops.
Davidson