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Authors: Lev AC Rosen

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BOOK: Depth
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SEVENTEEN

SIMONE LEANED BACK
IN
her unused receptionist’s chair, her feet up on the desk. She waited for him to knock first and smiled when he did.

“Come in,” she called.

He walked in and sat down across from her. He ran his fingers through his hair, then grinned at her. Simone couldn’t tell if he knew what was coming, if he was prepared for it. She’d have to be careful.

“I’m happy you called,” deCostas started. “I very much enjoyed our time together the other night. I was hoping we could do it again.”

“I was, too,” Simone said. It was practically a purr, but she pulled back. Too much and he’d get suspicious. “I had such a bad day yesterday.” She swung her feet off the desk and stood, walking around to him.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, smiling. She sat down on the desk, and he put his hand on her thigh. Simone smiled, using all her self-control not to kick him.

“You remember that other detective I told you about, Dash Ormond?” deCostas shook his head. “Sure you do. I said he was the one to go to if you wanted a more forceful approach, right? You looked at his card.”

“I remember, right,” deCostas said, not meeting her eye but staring at his own hand as it began to stroke her leg. “I didn’t want to hire him, though. I knew I had to work with you.”

“Mmm,” Simone said. “Well, he tried to kill me last night.”

“What? That’s terrible!” deCostas said, standing, waiting a moment, and then looking her in the eye.

“And he tried to kill my friend Caroline.”

“He sounds like a very bad man,” he said, his voice teasingly sexual.

“He’s more a tool than a man,” Simone said. She crossed her legs, letting her foot dig into his leg. “So, I’m trying to figure out who hired him.”

“Will dwelling on it really help?” deCostas asked. “Wouldn’t it be better to forget all about it? I could give you a massage,” he smiled.

“Funny thing is—he tried to drown me. In a dry tunnel under the city.” Simone watched him carefully. His eyebrows raised, his eyes opened wider, but his pupils stayed the same, and it took just a fraction of a second too long. “So I owe you an apology. You were right. There was a place where you could walk down under the waves. But it’s gone now. I didn’t even get a picture.”

“I accept your apology,” he said, “but I’m sorry you didn’t get photos or . . . proof. I could have published with just that—what a discovery!” He sighed—forced, Simone thought. “Perhaps there is a way you could make it up to me?” He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Simone was positive now. It was deCostas. deCostas had money and backing from the EU, knew about the painting, and was the one who wouldn’t get just a tunnel and some money out of finding the rail. He wouldn’t care if the government took it over. He’d get a career, a reputation. There were people all over the city, maybe the world, looking for tunnels, and they’d all drown him in money to find another one once word got out that he’d found the first. And he didn’t seem to care that she’d found it.

“Maybe there is,” she said. “You see, the police caught Dash. They’re hacking his wristpiece now.”

“Oh?” deCostas said. Now his pupils shrank.

“Maybe I can find out who hired him, if I can get my hands on the data they extract. And then you can go talk to them and find out how they knew.”

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s very important,” he said. His eyes narrowed. “When did they catch him?”

“Last night,” Simone said, “maybe early this morning.”

“Mmm,” deCostas said, and leaned back a little, suddenly relaxed. Simone forced herself to smile. She was losing him.

“Don’t you want to know all about it?” Simone said, almost whispering in his ear. She wrapped her legs around his and drew him close, locking him in place. His eyes met hers, and he smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. He wasn’t trying to be charming now.

“I think I know enough. Would you like to move this to a more comfortable location, perhaps?” He wrapped his arm around her, ground his hips into her. He was teasing her. He’d figured out it was a setup. Dash must have contacted him sometime recently—after “early this morning.” Simone held back a scream of frustration.

“Later,” she said. “I’m really caught up in this case. I want to check in with my contact at Teddy. See if they’ve hacked the wristpiece yet.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that,” deCostas said.

“No?”

“No. These criminals. They always have a way of slipping away. Even when they’re caught.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Simone let her legs relax, letting him step away. “It’s a real pity,” she said with some violence. The charade was mostly over now. She was just keeping it up to make him think she didn’t think she’d lost.

“Maybe,” deCostas said, stepping away. “But if you’re going to be busy with your police friends, I think I’ll take my leave. I have some things to wrap up before I head back to the EU.”

“Head back?” Simone asked.

“I’ve been asked to head up an exploration for a tunnel under Barcelona. A small one, not like the pipeline here, but I’ll have a whole team.”

“Impressive, considering you never found anything here,” Simone said, her voice edging cold now. “I mean,
I
found something, but it wasn’t because of your little metal balls or your tools. It wasn’t even the guy you hired. It was me.”

deCostas narrowed his eyes at her and stepped forward. He looked angry—that passion was back, the kind she’d seen spark up violently in his eyes before—the desire to prove something.

“I mean,” Simone continued, “you really just stumbled across it. And no one will ever know it existed, unless I tell them. And I’m not going to do that. So how exactly did you get a team? Wouldn’t they want to know more? I could call them.”

deCostas’ eyes were all fury now, and he raised his hands as if to strangle her, but Simone was ready and had her gun to his head before he could squeeze.

“You didn’t find a damn thing,” Simone said in a near whisper. “I did. Remember that. And you won’t find a damn thing without me.”

deCostas let go of her neck and swallowed. Then his eyes went cool again, and he smiled.

“Next time, I’ll know better,” he said.

“So you did hire Dash,” Simone said. “You admit it.”

deCostas smirked again. “You’re recording this?”

Simone rolled her eyes. “Why would I bother?” she asked.

“So you have evidence when you haul me into the police station. Maybe your friend Caroline already made a phone call, got a warrant drafted? Well, maybe you should get this on your recording, then: You know where my funding came from?”

“It comes from the EU, some foundations, your university,” Simone said, trying to sound confident. What did his funding have to do with anything?

“Partially. But a very large part of it also comes from right here in New York. From a very prominent family.” Simone clenched her jaw. The door to the hall behind her opened, and Caroline stood in the door, Peter just behind her. They had earpieces on, listening to the bug under her desk. Caroline’s eyes were hard, but her mouth was soft. Her lips were separated enough to let in thin whistles of breath. deCostas glanced up at Caroline, then back at Simone, and the corners of his mouth popped up like switchblades. “The Khans,” he said. “In fact, I probably never would have hired Dash to find Linnea if I hadn’t gotten a call from Mr. Khan saying he had just bought a painting he wanted me to look at. I thought that was funny, since Marina told me the painting was still for sale. When I told Khan that, we decided to put Dash on it. He found out who Marina was working for, and then he tried to find the painting and the location on it. You’ll find he was paid by Mr. Khan. I believe you told me, Simone, that Dash has a reputation—he’s who one goes to for dirty work?” Simone stared at him, silent. Outside the water was calm, lapping at the building, the sound of a slow breeze. “All for the Khans,” he said slowly, each word pointed. “Is that the evidence you want? Because if it is, I think, perhaps, the reporters who cover the story may suggest that the Khans were fully aware of Dash’s reputation and his actions. Which would be true.”

Simone turned to look at Caroline, whose eyes were fixed on deCostas. Behind her, Peter had taken out his handcuffs but wasn’t moving.

Caroline stepped forward and slapped deCostas across the face. It left a deep red mark, but it sounded weak, like one drop of water hitting the floor in an empty room.

“It’s been lovely,” deCostas said, stepping back. “Look me up if you’re ever in the EU.” He headed for the door and opened it but turned to look at Simone one more time. She saw his real face again, lacking charm and painted over with ambition. She smiled at him, and then he left. She realized she was still holding the gun up, and that her neck was warm as if he’d actually grabbed it. She inhaled deeply, salt and sweat and a touch of cologne, and she put the gun down on the desk.

“We got a confession,” Peter said. “I could go arrest him.”

Simone plucked the bug from under her desk and crushed it in her hand. Caroline was still staring at the door.

“Not an option,” Simone said. “Caroline’s career would be over, that kind of scandal. I’m going to go after him, wait till it’s dark. Kill him.” She started to get down from the desk, but Peter put his hand on her arm and pulled her back.

“I can’t let you do that, soldier.”

“It’s what he deserves,” Simone said.

“I . . . I’m a good cop, Simone,” Peter said softly. “I’ve never overlooked a confession before . . . I will if you ask me to. But I can’t let you kill him.”

“He’s right,” Caroline said. “Don’t kill him. This is my fault. I can weather a scandal like that. Peter, go arrest him.”

“Absolutely not,” Simone said, grabbing Peter’s wrist. “You’re not the mayor, Caroline. A scandal this big, no matter how much the mayor needs you, he’s going to get rid of you. Your chances for running for mayor will be over. Your career will be over. You know that. We all know that.”

Everyone was quiet for a long time. Simone took her gun from the desk and stuck it back in her boot. “I’m going to kill him.”

“No,” Peter put his hand on her shoulder. “Please, Simone. I can’t.”

“Then leave,” Simone said, pulling away.

“No,” Caroline said firmly. “Besides, if he vanishes, or his body turns up, how do we know it won’t create just as much of a scandal? This is my fault.”

“This is deCostas’ fault!” Simone shouted, throwing a hand towards the door. “And you’re all just going to let him get away with it?”

“Yes,” Caroline said, softly. “He gets away with it.”

“And Dash vanishes. Maybe becomes someone new but with the same job description in some other city.” Simone said. They all stood for a moment in silence.

Caroline finally moved, turning and going over to the sofas in the corner of the room. She fell into one, and looked out the window.

“Sometimes I hate this city,” Caroline said.

“Hate it and love it,” Simone corrected, coming to sit beside her. “All the time.”

“Yeah.”

They all sat in silence a moment. Outside, the waves were crashing loudly, almost cheerfully.

“I should go report something to Kluren . . .” Peter said, finally. “I’ll say he didn’t confess. He was too cool.”

“Let me come,” Simone said, getting up. “I need to talk to her anyway.”

Caroline stood with them. “I should go, too,” she said, her voice like metal. “I need to talk with my parents.”

THEY PARTED FROM CAROLINE
a few bridges from the apartment. She hadn’t spoken as they walked, but had looked straight ahead, and the wind had blown her hair back like spilled ink. Simone said goodbye as they split up, and Caroline reached out and squeezed Simone’s hand. But she hadn’t said anything, and then she’d walked away. Simone and Peter walked in silence for a while.

“So you slept with him?” Peter asked. “I mean, I know it’s none of my business. Sorry.”

“It was a thing,” Simone said. “Which I regret, obviously.”

They walked in silence a while longer.

“It’s been nice, you know. Hanging out with you again. We haven’t really done that in a while.”

“Yeah. That’s my fault. I thought it would be easier if it was a totally clean . . . you know.”

“But it hasn’t been bad, has it? Using me for information and not returning the favor? Just like old times.”

“Yeah,” Simone said grinning. “Just like old times.”

They walked a little faster now, their hands in their pockets because though the day was sunny, it had turned cold, and the wind had bite.

KLUREN LOOKED UP
AS
Peter and Simone walked in.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked. Simone shook her head. She didn’t think she’d been smiling.

“It was deCostas who hired Dash,” Simone said. “But he won’t admit it.”

“And you have no proof.”

Simone shook her head.

“Then I repeat, what the fuck are you smiling about?”

“I went under, and I came back up,” Simone said with a shrug. “Doesn’t happen too often.”

“I sometimes think it happens too much.” Kluren looked back down at her desk, as if done with the conversation. But Simone wasn’t done. She didn’t want to be Kluren’s punching bag anymore.

“I know about you and my dad,” Simone said. Kluren’s face, already hard as stone, seemed to stiffen.

“Weiss, you leave.” Peter nodded and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him.

“You see her when you see me, don’t you? The woman you couldn’t get my dad to leave for you.”

Kluren shook her head, her face almost soft. “I see your dad, who quit the force because both of us fucked up. I didn’t quit. I worked hard to get past it. So I see a coward, and, yeah, I see your mom, but I always liked her okay. When I see your mom I don’t think about how your father didn’t leave her. I think about how she disappeared all of a sudden after your dad confessed.”

“Yeah, she left us ’cause she was angry.”

“I didn’t say left. I said disappeared.”

Simone let the words sink in and suddenly realized she wasn’t smiling anymore.

“What are you saying?”

Kluren stood and walked around the desk so she was close to Simone.

BOOK: Depth
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