Industrial Magic Page 63

“But if you’re all-knowing—” she began.

I elbowed her to silence. I doubted gods, even minor Celtic deities, appreciated having their shortcomings pointed out.

“What can you tell us about him?” I asked. “From the glimpse you got?”

“Male, corporeal human form, light hair, average size, and fast as Thor’s thunderbolt. Stabbed that poor bairn so fast he didnae have time to scream. Your man has killing experience, and lots of it. In the auld days, priests made a dozen sacrifices to me every spring, and none of them was as good at it as this fellow.”

“Back to the files, then. How did that come about?”

“The way most jobs come about. Networking. After the Nasts fired Everett—oh, and do you know why they fired him? Because some sorcerer’s laddie wanted the job for his co-op. Obviously, Everett wasnae happy. He was looking for a wee bit of revenge, maybe shooting his gob off too much. This guy found out, called and asked Everett if he wanted to make some cash hacking into Cabal employee files. Everett figured the guy was looking to recruit Cabal employees. Happens all the time.”

I nodded. “Then he asked for employee files for the Cortez, Nast, and St. Cloud Cabals.”

“Nae, he wanted all four. The Cortez and Nast ones Everett could get easily enough, having worked for them. He knew a fellow in the St. Cloud computer department, so he could buy those files. But he had nae idea how to get the Boyd file. This guy didnae care. He said the other three would be good enough; he’d take care of the Boyds later.”

“Everett gets the three files, and then…”

“Then he wants Everett to extract the information on employees’ bairns. And that’s when he knew the guy was nae recruiting.”

“No kidding,” Jaime muttered.

“Look, I’m nae defending Everett. He f**ked up. But he’s nae saint and he’s nae hero. He got greedy and he got scared and between the two, he convinced himself that there could be some innocent reason why a bodie would want a list of runaway Cabal bairns. When those bairns started dying, we both knew he was in trouble. If the Cabals didnae get him, the killer would, tidying up his loose ends. When I saw you were heading in Everett’s direction, I told him to go quietly, because I knew your reputations, and figured you would hunt down the truth.”

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“Och, couldnae be helped. Once the Cabals had a suspect, they were nae letting anything as inconvenient as the truth get in their way. I should have foreseen that.”

“How did he get the list to this guy?” I asked.

“Very cloak-and-dagger. The dobber isnae stupid. He communicated by phone, gave nae way to contact him, told Everett where to leave the printouts. When Everett dropped off the lists, there was cash waiting for him.”

“So there were two lists,” I said. “One of Cabal runaways—the easy marks. Then one of personal bodyguards’ kids, to prove that ifhe could get that close to the bodyguards, he could get that close to the CEOs themselves. From there he jumped straight to the families—”

“Nae, there was a third list. Everett did it separately. After the guy found out there were only two names on the second list, he wanted the bairns of the CEO’s personal staff.”

“Then Matthew Tucker was a victim,” I said. “But, still, to jump from a secretary’s son to a CEO’s grandson seems a megaleap.”

“It’s likely his original intention was to remain with the third list,” Lucas said. “However, the convergence of Cabal families for the trial provided him with the perfect opportunity to escalate faster.”

“And now that he’s hit the top, that’s where he’ll bide,” Esus said. “Going back to killing the kids of mere employees now would be admitting he bit off more than he can chew. Here on in, it’s a CEO family or nothing. You’d better watch your back, señor.”

“I doubt he’ll jump to an adult while he still has a decent pool of teenage victims to choose from. He’s striking at young people for a reason, and not just because they’re easier targets.”

“He wants it to hurt,” Esus said. “Your man is hurting because of something the Cabals did, and he wants to hurt them back.”

Lucas prodded Esus with more specific questions about the date and times of phone calls, et cetera, then we gave him his final half-pint, and bade him farewell.

Go-between

IF ESUS HADN’T INSISTED ON LUCAS’S BLOOD, I’D HAVE gladly given the second half-pint, for reasons both personal and practical. On the practical side, we had no food or drink to boost Lucas’s blood sugar after his “donation,” and he had to navigate the boat back to the dock. Though I couldn’t drive a boat, I could drive a car, and insisted on doing so from the dock to the edge of Miami, where Jaime removed her blindfold and took over. We managed to stay awake until about two seconds after we collapsed into bed at a little past four.

Since it was so late when we’d returned to the hotel, Jaime slept on our hotel room sofa. When I awoke late the next morning, I found a note from Lucas. He hoped to find some tangible evidence connecting Weber to the killer, either in his phone records or personal effects, the latter of which had been shipped by the crateload to Miami for pretrial searching.

Beside the note, Lucas had left a glass of water, two painkillers, and the ingredients for a fresh poultice for my stomach. Though I hated to admit it, I needed that…otherwise, I don’t think I’d have been able to climb out of bed that morning. As it was, I still had to lie in bed for twenty minutes, waiting for the pills and the tertiary healing spell to take effect. Once I could move, I showered, dressed, then slipped into the sitting area of our suite, expecting Jaime to still be asleep. Instead, she was reading a magazine on the sofa.

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