City By Night: Requiem: A Sam Stevens Mystery Read online

  City By Night III:

  Requiem

  A Sam Stevens Mystery

  By

  J. D. Dunsford

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Introduction

  Sam Stevens is in hospital after being shot by a mysterious assailant. Under heavy police guard and knowing his nemesis is just down the hall, Sam is forced to solve a whole new mystery, in a race against time to work out who almost killed him before his enemies finish the job.

  The Sam Stevens Mystery Series

  Book 1 City By Night

  Book 2 City By Night: Resurgence

  Book 3 City By Night: Requiem

  Chapter One

  ‘What the hell happened here?’

  Sarah couldn’t blame the young constable for asking that question. She had been asking herself the same thing herself ever since she had arrived at the docks after a succession of terrified phone calls from locals.

  It seemed just about every cop in the city was present, spread out over the huge ships and the buildings on the docks that led up to them. The night was alive with flashing lights, both from the cop cars and the many ambulances that had arrived once they had realized just how much blood shed was here.

  Living in this city meant being comfortable with death. Being a cop in this city meant you could barely bat an eyelid at it. But then, Sarah had never seen this many bodies in one place. They littered the long buildings and the deck of the ship, that is the parts that hadn’t been scorched black and torn apart by an explosion.

  Of course, Sarah suspected the bodies would become a little less extraordinary once people realized just how much heroin there was in the hull of the ship. A big move had been happening here tonight, but a bigger move had counteracted it. The question was, who had been behind it. She tried to breathe in the cool night air to calm herself, but it was full of the smell of burning and blood. It wasn’t a very calming smell, but Sarah had the distinct feeling that she wouldn’t be truly calm for a long while yet.

  Joan stepped up next to her, the expression on her drawn face and her twitching fingers suggesting she was itching for a cigarette. Working forensics meant she knew better, but at times like this Sarah almost could have tolerated a bit of crime scene contamination for a better mood from her.

  ‘It’s a mess,’ Joan said. ‘A goddamn mess.’ She glanced at the green faced young constable, which Sarah took as a very clear message.

  ‘Head off Dan,’ she told him.

  He didn’t need telling twice. Once he was close to the gangplank that led off the ship, Sarah turned to Joan. ‘What are we dealing with here?’

  ‘That’s a question for the ages,’ Joan said. ‘We’ve identified some of the bodies already. Most are just standard hired goons, ex-military types, idiots who figured working for a syndicate would be just a top idea. One of them is Jack Kent. At this point he’s more bullets than man, however, there is one survivor.”

  Sarah resisted the urge to smile. She wasn’t a fan of people dying violently. Jack Kent was an exception. ‘You said there was a survivor?’

  ‘Yeah. That’s where it gets interesting.’

  ‘It isn’t already?’

  ‘There’s interesting, and then there’s interesting.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘That’s supposed to mean that our lone survivor is Sam Stevens.’

  Sarah’s mouth fell open.

  ‘You alright?’ Joan asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ Sarah said. ‘But you’re wrong about this being interesting.’

  ‘That so?’

  ‘The word you’re looking for is complicated.’

  She looked out over the expanse of the boat. That wasn’t the only thing people had been wrong about. Since getting here the question everyone had been asking was ‘what the hell happened here?’. But no, that was not the million dollar question. That question was, just what the hell would happen now.

  Lucinda sat behind the large oak desk in her office, ‘I need you to be a hundred percent clear about what you’re saying,’ Lucinda tried to keep her voice level as she stared at Paul, her thin, impeccably dressed intelligence officer.

  ‘I don’t think clarity is the issue here,’ he said. ‘I think it’s credibility.’

  ‘And respect,’ Lucinda said. ‘Don’t forget who you’re talking to.’

  ‘I never have. But that doesn’t change the facts. Everything went to plan until it didn’t.’

  ‘Is Sam dead?’

  ‘No,’ Paul said. ‘Although he’s been taken to hospital under heavy police guard, so I would suggest his future isn’t looking too bright. His use to you is certainly at an end.’

  ‘How badly was he hurt?’

  ‘A sniper’s bullet in the chest. Went clean through, missed the heart. Cops got there just in time to save him.’

  Lucinda looked away, trying to think. ‘Who the hell was the sniper?’

  ‘No idea. None of our intelligence told us Robert had placed any snipers around the area. All the men we were aware of are accounted for; Sam took them out, no trouble.’

  ‘Did you get something wrong?’ Lucinda looked back at Paul.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I’m glad you’re so confident,’ Lucinda growled. ‘Alright, if I am to believe that you were correct about the number of guards, then the sniper wasn’t one of Robert’s and they sure as hell weren’t ours. Who then? Police?’

  ‘Ever since Hector O’Neil died the police have been pretty careful about extra-curricular activities,’ Paul said. ‘Besides, they shot down Robert as well. Same sniper, seconds before Sam.’

  Lucinda hadn’t realized her fists were clenched, she took a deep breath and relaxed them slightly. ‘Robert is dead?’ she said.

  Paul looked away. Lucinda felt like a chain had tightened around her heart. ‘What?’

  ‘They pulled him out of the water. On the verge of death but… but no. He’s alive. Same hospital as Sam.’

  Lucinda wanted to scream. She wanted to sweep everything off her desk and set it all alight. She settled for looking down at her hands. We can fix this. It’s okay.

  ‘What do we do?’ Paul asked.

  Lucinda closed her eyes. She wished there was an obvious answer.

  ‘You know I advised you against this,’ Paul said.

  ‘I have a gun, Paul.’

  ‘Even so. It’s the truth. But you know that Robert is not stupid. He will know who came for him, and he will make sure the entire underworld is just as aware. The Realm will lose its untouchable position if that information gets out.’

  ‘What’s Robert’s condition?’

  ‘Stable, but unconscious. Could wake up anytime though.’

  ‘And Sam?’

  ‘Better, but not by much. The brothers Stevens are in the same boat.’

  ‘So,’ Lucinda said. ‘let me get this straight, both Sam and Robert are in the same hospital, under heavy police protection. Sam is public enemy number one for the entire criminal underworld, and Robert is a ticking time bomb that will destroy us unless we destroy him first. While at the same time all his surviving men will be trying to get him out of there as soon as possible. Then, in case that was not bad enough, there is a sniper out there who tried to kill both Robert and Sam, but judging by the succession of attacks, was gunning for Sam specifically. Is that about the sum of it?’

  ‘Roughly, yes,’ Paul said. ‘All of which leaves the question of exactly what we’re g
oing to do about it.’

  Lucinda could feel the beginnings of a headache. And she suspected it would be quite a while until this one died down.

  ‘I need all the blueprints of the hospital,’ she said. ‘I need to know where Sam and Robert are being held, how many guards they have each and what the general security is like there. And then I need every single gun we have ready to move.’

  Sometimes, Lucinda reasoned, you had to start one war to end another.

  Chapter Two

  He dreamed of Sally. They were strange, fractured dreams, nothing clear or close to anything that had really happened. Their lives had seldom been so easy and idyllic. In dreams they floated on an ocean beneath endless starry skies, laughing and talking, before kissing on a beach then standing on the edge of a cliff looking out over an endless city expanse. Sam held her hand, knowing that despite his fear, together, they could tackle whatever came, then Sally was kissing him on the cheek and telling him he would be okay, before turning and walking away. He yelled after her, tried to run, to grab her and pull her back but she was gone and the cliff with her, leaving him standing on an empty city street with skyscrapers that stretched up so high they didn’t seem to end. Lost in an eternal forest of steel and concrete, a maze from which there was no escape. He looked down. The streets were blood.

  Waking up seemed like a relief until he saw where he was. A hospital bed, in a tiny room with no windows. And what woke him was the pain, a heavy ache in his chest that made him grit his teeth until two uniformed policemen loomed into sight and yelled something, then a nurse was at his side injecting him while he begged her not to until the world turned blurry and dark again and the dreams returned.

  Sometimes he was with Sally. Other times he stood and yelled helplessly from the ground as something carried her further and further into the sky. Sometimes he dreamed he was in a small room, frantically searching for her while Robert sat and laughed, laughed until Sam ran at him and then he disappeared, and Sam was alone with no sign of Sally anywhere.

  The brief glimpses of real life he got were terrifying, but the dreams were worse. In dreams, there was no way to escape. Just constant reminders of the things he had done and what he had lost because of them.

  He could deal with being caught. He could deal with the prospect of prison or even death. But what he couldn’t deal with was this in-between world, this horrible mix of dreams and a reality he scarcely had time to accept. It was as though any clear understanding of his situation was being dangled just out of his reach, which, he supposed, was pretty much the point.

  The first day they didn’t sedate him after he woke up still felt like a dream. Partly because he was waiting for the needle, but it never came. Instead, he just lay there in the bed, unable to move, feeling the restraints around his wrists and the now dull ache in his chest, listening to the ticking of the clock. He waited but nobody arrived, and slowly everything came back together in his head. The information crept along at a trickle but as each piece of the puzzle slid into place he found himself almost wishing he was trapped in those dreams again. Almost.

  How stupid had he been to think he could get away with this? Killing a corrupt police chief and in the process declaring war against the syndicate he had walked away from, inciting the rage of his brother, entering a devil’s bargain with the nightclub owner who swore neutrality and setting out to be her one-man army? The worst part was, up until that last moment he had really thought he could make it work. He wasn’t going to say any of it had been easy, but he had survived improbable odds and, as stupid and arrogant as it might be to think, he had legitimately started to believe that he could make it through the entire ordeal unscathed. Had he been wrong to entertain that notion? Maybe. He should have known by now that right when you thought you were winning was the point life pulled the rug out from under you.

  The pain in his chest flared briefly, and he winced. Who had shot him? It had to be a sniper, judging by the caliber of the bullet that had killed his brother. He had assumed Lucinda, but then, well, maybe his assumption had been correct. Maybe all her talk of offering him a future had been a cover for her ultimate plan of removing him as well. It made a certain degree of sense, after all; the Realm’s neutrality was what stopped them from inviting any kind of attack, and Sam would be the one person who could blow Lucinda’s cover after the deed was done. He hated that it made sense, but it did. And if that was the case, then his chances of surviving this had gone from zero to somewhere in the minus digits.

  ‘How you feeling Stevens?’

  With more difficulty than he expected, he looked up. Leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, was Sarah. She looked older than the last time he had seen her; the lines on her face were deeper, and her short hair was unkempt.

  ‘Where are my guards?’ he asked.

  ‘Told them to take a walk. Let some old friends catch up.’ She pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat.

  ‘If catching up involves you slipping me a lethal dose of medication, I’d rather skip the reunion.’

  ‘You can relax Sam. I’m here as a friend.’

  ‘Yeah, I thought that about our last meeting. How’d that work out again?’

  ‘Don’t be sore Stevens. You know as well as I that O’Neil would have had my head if he got the barest hint I was betraying him.’

  ‘Obviously, I didn’t know that, or I wouldn’t have met you.’

  ‘That was your fault for being naive, wasn’t it? Anyway, I assumed you were smart enough to know I was lying about O’Neil’s guards.’

  ‘That’s a convenient narrative to insist on.’

  ‘Do you want to be bitter or do you want to talk?’

  ‘I want to know why you want to talk.’

  Sarah smiled. ‘You’ve caused a stir, Sam. Done some things that have gotten something of a strong reaction from people.’

  ‘Are you one of those people?’

  ‘I’m in the minority, considering my reaction was positive,’ Sarah said. ‘O’Neil dying was the best thing that ever happened to our department. Jack Kent dying was a bonus. And Robert, well, that’s less of a complete victory, but it’s a victory all the same.’

  Sam frowned. ‘Excuse me?’

  For a moment Sarah looked confused, then her eyes widened. ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘Don’t know what?’

  ‘Robert survived.’

  Sam tried to sit up, forgetting about both the restraints and the pain in his chest.

  ‘Relax,’ Sarah said. ‘He hasn’t woken up yet. He got it worse than you.’

  ‘Not bad enough,’ Sam spat. ‘How is he alive?’

  ‘How are you both alive?’ Sarah shook her head. ‘It’s not probable, but here we are. This is the hand we’ve been dealt, so we have to deal with it.’

  ‘And how do you plan on dealing with it?’

  ‘By doing everything in my power to make sure that Robert goes behind bars and you walk free.’

  ‘You’ll forgive me for not exactly trusting you.’

  ‘If you want to get out of this, you’re going to have to,’ Sarah said. ‘You don’t have many friends left, and you’re just lucky I feel bad enough about the O’Neil thing to try and help. For now, rest up. You’re as safe as you’ve ever been.’

  ‘And as trapped,’ Sam muttered.

  ‘Well, that too,’ Sarah said. ‘But look on the bright side. You’re alive.’ With a wry smile, she got to her feet and left, replaced moments later by two cold faced men in uniform.

  Sam stared at the roof. Alive. At that moment, alive seemed to count for very little indeed.

  From the outside, the hospital looked easy enough to infiltrate. The windows were large and the front entrance wide open. It was meant to come across as welcoming, rather than a concrete hull where sick people went to die.

  Of course, he knew that they were trying to make it look easy and inviting. He also knew what undercover cops looked like, by their strange approximation of human clothing, the way they hel
d themselves, the way their narrowed eyes scanned everything as they made their rounds outside the building. The place looked like a walk in the park to get into, but it was essentially a fortress, and he knew that Sam Stevens would be kept in the heart of it, under heavy guard in a room with no windows. They were expecting the sniper to return and finish the job.

  Well, they were right about that at least. He looked down at the rifle across his knees. Perhaps he should pack it away. It wasn’t like he had any targets who weren’t well protected, and he was hardly expecting an attack up here. He had been coming to this level of an old car park for days now, and so far nobody else had arrived up here. This city was draining people by the day, as the crime and lack of work got worse and worse. He himself had not wanted to come back here or to stay. But then, very little he wanted had come to pass recently.

  He wanted this to be over. He was tired, and angry at himself for not finishing Stevens when he had the chance. He had gotten sloppy since the war. Back then he never missed his target. Nobody got up once he had put them down. Peace had made him soft and slow. That would change, however. He was spending every morning re-training, every night waiting for a change around the hospital. The lingering police presence told him Stevens was still inside, but sooner or later he would leave, whether to be taken to trial or prison or set free, he did not know. When that happened, the job would be well and truly finished. When that happened, he could finally rest.

  War had taken most of what he had. Stevens had taken the last of it. Now, the fickle satisfaction of revenge was all that was left. Although under the circumstances, he felt like it was enough.

  Chapter Three

  After his conversation with Sarah, the medication was toned down, which was a mild improvement, but he would have preferred clearheaded pain to this bleary numbness. Still, at least he knew what his situation was now, and that allowed him more of a chance to try and change it.