The Darkness - Jason Pinter [103]
to send someone to kill him."
"It doesn't make sense," Jack said. "We didn't decide to go up there until about an hour before we got
there. Who knew?"
"The only person I told," I said, an icy chill making its
way down my spine when I said it, "was Curt Sheffield."
Jack stared at me, the mug resting against his lip. He
put it down, cupped it with his hands.
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"Is there a chance..."
"Not in a million years," I said. "I know Curt. And
more than that, I know people. I know how they act. I've
talked to Curt about this a dozen times since my brother
was killed. I would have known if he was involved. I
would have seen it in his eyes, I would have heard it in
his voice. He couldn't have known."
"He couldn't be involved," Jack said, "or you don't
want him to be involved?"
"Both," I said without hesitation.
"Until we know for sure," Jack said, "you don't say a
word to Curt Sheffield or anyone else."
"You either," I said. Not that I needed to tell Jack. I
trusted him, but I wanted to level the field, let him know
that my contacts were trustworthy ones.
"Even Amanda," Jack said. "You don't know who has
access to her, and information you give her."
"Jack, come on..."
"It's us or nothing now, Henry," he said. "I don't trust
anyone in this city and I won't until we know what the
hell is going on."
I heard my cell phone beep. I took it out, saw I had a
text message. It was from Curt Sheffield.
Four people dead in midtown hi-rise. Looks like a
triple murder-suicide. Bags of the Darkness found all
over the place. One of the victims was Lil' Leroy.
I snapped the phone shut. "This is not good," I said.
"What happened?"
"According to Curt, they found four bodies, one of whom
was LeRoy Culvert, also known as the rapper Lil' Leroy."
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"Damn," Jack said. "He's famous enough that even
I've heard of him."
"He was found with three other bodies, and they're all
dead, drawn and quartered. I mean the place looks like a
bloody Rorschach test. And apparently the cops found
drugs at the scene. Darkness."
Jack lowered his head.
"There's something else..." I said. "Somebody wrote
'Fury' on one of the walls. In blood."
"Just like Butch Willingham. This is how the bloodshed
begins. This is how it starts. Things will only get worse."
"This will be all over the papers tomorrow," I said.
"Front-page stuff, probably, and it will go national. The
Fury only killed dealers. And once people know what
kind of drugs Culvert was killed over..."
"People all over the country will want it."
"Guy had to be worth millions," I said. "Always saw
him drinking expensive champagne and hanging out on
yachts. Guy like that only indulges in the good stuff.
Killing him creates instant demand. This is the best marketing money could buy."
"I've never seen anything like this," Jack said. "Even
crack...it took a while to seep in. This drug sounds like
it's already swimming in the city's bloodstream, polluting it from the inside out."
"And people are literally dying to get their own
taste," I said. Then I went into my wallet and pulled out
a piece of paper.
Jack's eyes widened. "You didn't give that to the
cops?" he said.
I opened the money order made out to Morgan Isaacs,
looked at it.
"Like you said, I don't trust anybody either now. This
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is our only lead. And even though I trust Curt, I don't trust
the whole department. We lose this, it might never be
seen again."
"Henry, this is dangerous," Jack said. "You could get
in trouble for that."
"I don't care," I said. "This isn't about a story anymore.
It's about stopping whatever the hell is happening to this
city."
"Leonard Reeves," Jack said. "Who the hell is he?"
"Let's find out. His name is on this order. He has to
live and work in the city. And I'll bet he has some connection to 718 Enterprises. And maybe to my brother."
"So, what, you think we can just dial four-one-one and
the operator will connect us?" Jack said.
"No, but guy like this has to be connected.