Black Iris: Chapter Twelve
See Updated Chapter List Go to Previous Chapter
CHAPTER TWELVE
A crack of thunder jars me out of a dead sleep, and I scamper under my desk. Lincoln is already there. We stay huddled together until the flashes of light and the crippling sound get further and further apart. When the rattling of windows ceases and the rain shrinks to a whisper, we come out of our hole.
After Mandi left last night, I changed my mind about getting drunk. It was probably a bad idea, but it beat staring at the ceiling all night. Now it’s noon, and I’m hungover, with a swollen rectum and absolutely no desire to draw flowers even though the image is burning behind my eyes as bright as ever.
The doorbell buzzes, and I fight the urge to jump back under the desk.
“Who is it?” I say into the intercom.
There’s no answer.
“Alright, fuck off then.”
Two minutes later, I hear the squishing of water out of soggy shoes and then a knock at my door. Lincoln rushes over and starts growling.
“Who is it? And how the hell did you get up here?” I see nothing through the peephole, but when I open the door to look down the hall, a ribeye flies past me into my apartment. Lincoln dives on it as the Phantom pushes his way in.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“We have to talk.” He closes the blinds and takes a seat by my desk.
“I’ve already heard all your bullshit conspiracy theories. If you have new ones, please tell them to someone else.”
He plucks a tiny metallic object from his pocket and puts it on my desk.
“What the hell’s that?”
“It’s the tracking device they implanted in me.”
I sit down to get a closer look at it. “Looks like the pull tab from a soda can.”
“Trust me, it’s not. Here, check this out.” He rolls up his sleeve and shows me the back of his upper arm. There’s a two-inch gash that’s been sewn up by someone who clearly isn’t a doctor. “That’s where I found the thing.”
“How’d you get it out?”
“Friend of mine. Getting it out was the easy part. The only reason the cut’s so nasty is that he had to use a dull steak knife. Locating it was the hard part. It didn’t show up on any of his consumer-level radiation detectors, but he finally got a faint signal when he brought out his high-end REI Andre Deluxe Counter Surveillance Probe.”
“You have a friend?”
He frowns. “Har har. There’s a small local network of concerned citizens fighting the good fight. They help when they can.”
“Right. And how many of them are virgins who still live in their parent's basements?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything. The real issue is many of their parents have dogs, which means it’s been hard finding places to crash. Constantly being on the run has meant I haven’t been able to follow up on any leads. Which is why I’ve come back here.”
“What about your incel network? Most of them probably have Batman costumes. Don’t any of them want to play detective?”
“They all have day jobs. And besides, none of them have superpowers like you do.”
“Yeah well, I’m sure you already know by now, but I’m down to my last life. And I’m not going to risk it on this bullshit.”
He puts the pull tab back in his pocket. “Like it or not, you’re already caught up in this.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He gets up and peeks through the blinds. “How many people do you think get killed by falling air conditioners each year?”
“Worldwide?”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
“I don’t know, it’s got to be a couple hundred at least.”
“The fact is there’s only been one recorded death over the last 25 years, and that was a two-year-old girl in Toronto back in 2019.”
“Bullshit. That can’t be true.”
“There are serious injuries from time to time, but even those are rare. And I’ll bet it never happens to people with super hearing and cat-like reflexes.”
“Well, I was a little out of it when it happened. But wait. Are you saying — ”
“Your accident was no accident.”
I scratch my chin. “That doesn’t make any sense. Nobody was even home when it happened. The tenant was in South Africa.”
“That’s convenient, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s just the truth.”
“So it wasn’t the tenant. Someone knew he was going to be gone for a while and broke into his place. The point is, the thing didn’t just fall. Someone pushed it.”
“Well, it’s a pretty stupid way to kill someone. You’d have to know exactly when I was going to be passing by the window and be waiting there. Why the hell would anyone go through all that trouble when they could just shoot me or whatever?”
“They needed it to look like an accident.”
“I was hit by a van once. That looked like an accident.”
“Not to you, though. You knew the guy hit you on purpose. The people who did this are careful. They know you have multiple lives, and they didn’t want you trying to solve your own murder. But there’s someone else they wanted to keep in the dark, too.”
“Who?”
He leans on the back of the chair. “Think about it. Last year, when you were looking into the death of that high priest, who showed up to help you? Who slashed a guy’s throat in a museum basement to save your life?”
“Bastet.”
He nods. “So, if these guys were going to kill the son of an Aaruvian goddess without getting their throats torn out, they knew they’d have to go to great lengths to cover up their crime. Not only do all of your deaths need to look like accidents, but they also have to be spread out so that they don’t seem connected.”
“I actually died twice that day.”
He squints. “Really?”
“One of the times was here in my apartment. Don’t ask.”
“Hm. If I didn’t know that, then hopefully they don’t either. If they knew you had only one life left, they might be a little bolder. As it is, they probably already have a plan in place to kill you again. Could be tomorrow. Could be six months from now. These people have unlimited resources, Snowball. They’ll do whatever it takes to get rid of you without bringing the wrath of the gods upon them.”
“But why me? These days, all I do is get drunk and sleep. It’s not like I’ve been out there sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“I still don’t know for sure myself. Maybe they think you know something.”
“Trust me, I don’t know anything, and if I did, I’d gladly tell Sasquatch or Nessie just to spite you.”
Lincoln has finished his steak and is now beginning to take a disdainful interest in the Phantom. His growls are just murmurs for now, a polite little warning to our unwelcome guest. The Phantom pretends not to notice, but I see the tension in his fingers as he grips the back of the chair.
“Maybe you do know something but don’t realize it. Have you experienced any missing time recently?”
“I’d love to get these last 10 minutes back if that’s what you mean.”
“It isn’t. And given that you’re down to your last life, I think you should take this more seriously. Have you noticed any suspicious-looking characters lurking about? Possibly in dark suits and sunglasses?”
“Lots of people wear dark suits and sunglasses.”
“How about suspicious vehicles? See any black 1987 Ford LTD Crown Victorias patrolling your neighborhood?”
“That’s oddly specific. Why would I have noticed something like that?”
“It’s the car of choice for G-men. Men in black. How about your building? Any new neighbors or people you don’t recognize?”
I shake my head.
“Unusual packages showing up?”
“Not for me, anyway.”
“How about your friends and family? Anyone acting strange, or, you know… not like themselves?”
“If you’re asking if I think any of them have been replaced by robots, the answer is no.”
“Just in case, there are a few ways to check. First, you can try looking into their ear canal. If they’re a robot you might see wires. Another thing you can do is watch them eat. If their jaw motion is too perfect, it’s probably not natural. Give them something chewy like caramel or taffy and see if they can handle it. The best test, of course, is to ask them an existential question. Robots tend to short circuit when you — ”
“Stop. I don’t need this crap when there are plenty of real things for me to be paranoid about. I could get hit by another van or crushed by another appliance or fall out of another tree.”
“So, you’re going to sit there and tell me with a straight face that you don’t think there was anything suspicious about what happened to you?”
“It was negligence. A corporation cutting corners to save a few bucks, but they didn’t intentionally drop an air conditioner on me. That’s insane. The only thing they’re guilty of is screwing me out of my settlement. And even that’s my own fault. They made an offer, but I got cocky and told them to shove it up their asses.”
“Most civil cases take years to resolve, yet this one was wrapped up in two weeks. That doesn’t bother you?”
“My lawyer said we didn’t have a case.”
The Phantom shakes his head. “And why would he think that when he was the one who came to you in the first place? Even if you didn’t have a strong case, a guy like McCarthystein knows how to get you paid. If he’d have just stayed in the game, the defendant would have eventually forked over some cash.”
“The case was dismissed with prejudice.”
“Yeah, and your lawyer could have appealed that decision. Didn’t he tell you that?”
“No, I guess not. But so what? The guy wasn’t on top of his game. Are you suggesting he lost on purpose?”
The Phantom shrugs. “I’m suggesting he’s full of shit. At least question the guy and see what he has to say for himself.”
“Just curious, were you actually there when the thing hit me?”
“No. I showed up right after you were resurrected. I heard you talk to your cop friend, and then I watched you carry the air conditioner home. After that, you barely left the house, so I spent most of my time watching McCarthystein and Sharkey. Sharkey’s a slippery one, that’s for sure. I still can’t tell what he’s about.”
“He’s a blood-sucking lawyer. I’m not sure there’s any more to it than that.”
“Trust me, there is, and you should check him out. Let me ask you something. Why weren’t you more personally involved during the discovery phase of your lawsuit? You’re a private investigator, you should’ve been out investigating.”
“McCarthystein said I should let his team handle it. He didn’t like how I pissed off a bunch of potential witnesses.”
“That’s bullshit. The fact is, he didn’t want you finding out the truth about what happened.”
“Ok, this is getting ridiculous. Now you’re implying that the lawyer who represented me in my wrongful death suit was actually involved in my wrongful death.”
As I raise my voice, Lincoln inches closer and bares his teeth. The Phantom watches him out of the corner of his eye but keeps talking.
“I’m not sure how deep his involvement was, but at the very least, he was working with the defense to tank your lawsuit. Which is interesting, since he stood to make millions if you had won.”
“This makes no sense at all. Even if the goal was to make it look like an accident, the plot you’re suggesting is way more complicated than it had to be. Why go through all this trouble to manufacture a fake lawsuit? Why not at least wait until I initiated one myself?”
“You’re not getting it. The whole point was to keep you from looking into it. They didn’t want you — ”
Lincoln charges and the Phantom runs around to my side of the desk and hides behind me.
“Ok, Lincoln says it’s time for you to get the hell out of our house. Thanks for the steak.”
“Fine. I tried. If nothing else, be extra careful. These people are everywhere.”
I walk him to the door, staying between him and my dog.
“Hey, Snowball,” he says once he’s safely in the hallway. “You never did meet that tenant, did you?”
“I told you he was out of the country.”
“It’s been a couple of weeks now. Maybe you should go see if he’s home.”
“What’s the point? The case is over.”
“The lawsuit may be over, but the case isn’t.”
“Whatever.” I shut the door in his face.
Lincoln relaxes as the sound of the Phantom’s footsteps fade. The worst thing about the Phantom constantly showing up like this is he’s giving my dog a taste for steaks I can’t afford to buy for him.
I’m in the process of filling his water bowl when I hear the screech of rubber over wet pavement followed by a dull thud. Both Lincoln and I rush to the window to see the Phantom lying on the side of the road.