The Pandora Directive

Chapter Ten

“Please, Mr Murphy, make yourself comfortable. D you smoke?” I nodded. “Would you like a Nat Sherman?”

Ah, Nat Sherman. Tobacconist to the world. “I’d love a Nat Sherman, thank you.”

I leaned forward and extracted a cigarette from the case the NSA man held out to me. He was seated casually with one leg up and on the front of the desk. His face was hard, his hair cut short and severe. He produced a lighter and lit my Nat Sherman. I leaned back and looked him over. Dark blue suit, neatly pressed. Dark red tie over a starched white shirt. As he leaned back, I caught a glimpse of burgundy suspenders, which matched his brilliantly shined wing tips. I didn’t like the look of him.

“Do you know where you are?”

I drew in on my Nat Sherman and savoured the quality tobacco taste. “In your office?”

His smile said I’m going to enjoy killing you. “That’s correct. Do you know who I work for?”

“Can I have three guesses?”

The man stood up. As he walked around the chair behind the desk, I noticed the name Jackson Cross displayed on a brass nameplate. He sat down in the chair like he belonged there and looked up at the two thugs standing behind me. “This guy’s a joker, isn’t he?”

Cross shifted his gaze back to me. “Don’t dick with me, Murphy. If you don’t give me straight answers, I’m going to pull out my gun and shoot you in the face. And I’d really rather not have to bring it someone in tonight to clean my office.”

His voice was calm. My left eyelid started to twitch.

“I’d guess that you work for the NSA.”

Cross leaned back in his chair. “Give that man a cigar. Now for the big question. Do you know why you’re here?”

“No idea whatsoever.”

“Well, let me refresh your memory. Do you remember the other night? Up on the roof? The man you threw off the roof was one of our agents.”

“I didn’t throw him off the roof.”

“Your actions contributed to the death of an NSA agent. There is also the small matter of interfering in an NSA investigation. Either charge wins you an all-expenses paid, lifetime trip to Pelican Bay.”

Pelican Bay was the new and improved Alcatraz, a place I’d never cared to visit. “All I did was try to save a girl from being murdered. How was I to know that an NSA investigation was going on?”

“Tell me how and why you were involved.”

If this had been a police interrogation, I would have told them to stick it. This, however, was not the police. Everyone knew these guys were above the law and could kill people whenever they felt like it. I decided to play along, as far as they knew. “The girl at the Fuchsia Flamingo hired me to find out who had left her a couple of twisted notes. I kept an eye on her place and saw your man in her apartment. When I got to the apartment, your agent hightailed it. I followed him to the roof, and he tried to shoot me. We struggled; he went over the side.”

Cross picked up a pencil and tapped it on the desk. After a few moments, he looked up at me. “The agent was staking out the Fuchsia Flamingo. We’ve known for some time that high-level drug dealings have gone on in the club. A delivery of euphoria was brought there on the night in question. Our agent was in the girls’ apartment waiting to make a bust. The girl’s life was never in danger… at least not on our account.”

The NSA man was lying through his teeth. He sounded convincing, but his eyes and body said something else altogether. “Well, maybe what you say is true. All I know is that it didn’t appear like that, and I stand by my actions.”

Cross stared at me for what seemed like five minutes. “Tell you what you know about Thomas Malloy.”

“Who?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t know anyone named Thomas Malloy.” Well, that was true. I’d never met him.

He continued to stare me down. I’d never liked so well in my entire life. I hoped it was well enough.

“The euphoria our agent was attempting to confiscate was in a small metal container. It hasn’t turned up. I think you’ve got it. Where is it?”

“I’ve never seen anything remotely like that.”

Cross clapped his hands together and smiled. “Well, I guess that will be all, then.” he motioned to the two men behind me. “You can take him now. Make it clean. Get back here as soon as you’re finished.”

I felt four large hands on me. They were actually going to kill me. “Hold on! I’ve got the box!”

Cross waved the goons off. He folded his hands on the desk and looked at me serenely, his eyebrows raised expectantly. “So you do have it. You should have said that in the first place. Why don’t you tell us where it is?”

“Will you cut me a deal?”

“What do you have in mind? I have to warn you, I usually frown on compromises.”

I had to be careful. These guys wouldn’t hesitate to kill me. I had a decent hand; now it was time to raise the stakes. “Look, I didn’t ask to get mixed up in this business. I’m a small-time PI, living from case to case. It may not be much of a life, but I’m not ready for the Big Finish yet. All I want to do is get out of your hair and keep doing the things people do when they’re alive.”

“So you’ll trade me the box if I promise to let you go, no strings attached?”

“Yeah, that’s basically it.”

Cross was quiet for a minute. I personally didn’t think I was asking for a whole lot. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll cut you loose in exchange for the box. Where is it?”

I didn’t want to push my luck, but I wasn’t going to go soft either. “I’d prefer to deliver it on my own.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Look, you bastard, I could shoot you right where you sit,” he said more calmly than the words implied.

“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t have the box. And I guarantee you’d never find it.”

Cross sat back and assessed the situation. Apparently, getting this box was his first priority. I wondered what was in it. It sure as hell wasn’t euphoria. “How and when will you deliver it?”

I wanted to buy some time. Obviously I could get it in less than an hour, but I didn’t want to rush into anything. “It will take a little time. Give me thirty-six hours.”

“That’s too long.”

“Look, do you want it or not? I’m willing to hand it over; you’ve just gotta give me enough time.”

Cross didn’t like the idea, but I could see he was going to play along. “Okay, Murphy. In thirty-six hours, that box better be sitting on the desk in your office. If you’re there, too, I’ll have you shot. Once we’ve got the box, I’ll try to forget we ever spoke.”

He seemed to be talking straight. It was as good an offer as I was going to get. Cross got up and walked around to where I was sitting. He leaned down until his face was no more than two inches from mine. His steely eyes burned into mine. “Listen to me, Murphy. This the only time you’ll hear me say this. After I get that box, I don’t want to see your face again. If I do, I’ll put a slug in your eyeball. I’m going to have people keep an tabs on you for awhile, to make sure you stay out of our way. If you ever hear mention of the NSA, I’d advise you to turn around and run. Is that clear?

I nodded. Something told me that I was getting the deal of a lifetime. Cross motioned to the two Feds behind me.

“Get this pisshead out of my office.”

The N S A thugs were courteous enough to draw me off the back at the Ritz. Unfortunately, they have literally drop me off while the speeder had been going about 40 kilometres an hour. I leant into the lobby and up to my office. I open the door and flicked on light. It was good to be home, but God, it was a mess. The NSA boys had been impressively destructive. The Office look like the scene of an oversize gain of 52, Pickup. I have a my coat and hat. I’d clean the place up later.

After poking around for a few minutes, I was relieved to find the wrapping paper from Malloy’s package haven’t been confiscated. They probably ignored it, since Malloy his name wasn’t written on it. Lucky for me, or else my little white lie when have worked on agent cross.

Lord, I was beat. Turn down the lights made my eyes feel better. I cranked up my old phonograph, and suddenly Nat King Cole was playing piano and the back of my office. I fell into the chair behind my desk and turned on my bank Islam. After fishing out a Lucky Strike and pouring myself a tall glass of bourbon, I turned my attention to the brown-paper wrapper. Someone knocked at the door.

I just got uncomfortable and heated to get up. Briefly, I considered Britain in the norm was here but Nat. I rub my eyes. It was probably somebody important. Limping across the paper littered room, I reached the door and opened it.

It was the woman, Ms Madsen, from the police station.

“Well, hello.”

“Good evening.” She nodded and waited. “May I come in?”

I was a bit shocked and reacted a little slowly. A stepped aside and motioned for her to enter. She moved toward my desk, leaving him to dark fragrance in her wake. I close the door without taking her eyes from her. She was exquisite. Above average height, or burn hair that just touched her shoulders. Slender waist, curvy through the hips, perfectly shaped ankles. She walked through the paper trail and sat down in one of my newly upholstered guest chairs.

“nice place. Decorate it yourself?”

“Sorry about the mess. The housekeeper just started taking Prozac.”

I slid into my chair and picked up my still burning cigarette from the ashtray. A motioned toward my smoke. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“can I offer you one?”

“No. Thank you.”

I took a drag of the Lucky Strike and looked at her face. Her skin was flawless and very fair. Full, soft lips. Her large eyes were an unusual shade of hazel, close to Gordon Brown. There was a lot be read in those eyes. This when a strong, focused, determined. I decided to take an aggressive approach. “As suppose you came by to apologise for walking out to me at the police station.”

Her lips curved into a small, revealing perfect, white teeth. She cocked her head slightly. It was very appealing. “Why should I? Don’t most women treated that way when they first meet you?”

“Well, yeah. Usually. When they do show any interest, and generally too stunned to do anything about it.”

She gave me a sceptical, sideways glance. “I seriously doubt that.”

“It’s true.”

Ms Madsen raise my glass. “Is that bourbon?”

“it was certainly is. Would you like some?”

“I would.”

Finding a clean glass turned out to be more difficult than I’d figured. For a moment, I was afraid I have to resort to washing one. When I returned, Ms Madsen had taken off her coat and laid it across the other chair. A sleeveless grey dress exposed slender, toned arms. A return to my chair, poured a small glass of bourbon, and handed it to her. She swirled it around and lifted it in my direction.

“cheers.”

She drank half the bourbon and didn’t blink. I was impressed.

“So tell me, and his medicine, what brings you to my little den of iniquity?”

A look of seductive coyness flashed across the young woman’s face, replaced almost instantaneously by a more pleasant, polite expression. The signals coming from her were almost contradictory, as if her instinctive nature was assertive in sensual, but a conscious nature struggled at with cool detachment.

“Please call me Regan.”

“Okay. But then you have to call me Tex.”

She gave me a sideways look. “That’s not your real name. What is it?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“try me.”

“Sorry. I have to get to know some pretty thoroughly before a come clean on that one.”

“Well, then, maybe you should get in any pretty thoroughly.” he was the essential thing again. She took another sip of bourbon. Maybe I’ll have one of those Lucky strikes after all.” I took one out and handed it over. Instead of taking it from me the way people normally do, she put her hand over mine and then down to take a cigarette between her lips. Her handling of momentarily on my unsteady fingers. I lit a match and reached across the desk. Regan during, the end of the cigarette blazing. A focused on her long, slender fingers holding a cigarette as I leaned back and lit a smoke of my him. Regan leaned forward, folding her arms over her crossed legs. “D you have the box?”

The question may have been the last one was expecting. And looked her over and decided she was bluffing. “What box with that be?”

“You know what am talking about.”

“do not.”

Begin leaned back and smoked a cigarette the way only a woman can. Her clear eyes locked on to mine and wouldn’t let go. Eventually, she blinked first, it made me happy. She on crossed her legs and slid toward the front of her seat. The lower half of her face moved into the lamplight. Her lips were perfect.

“I like to play games, Tex. It makes things more interesting. I think you do, too.” her gaze drifted down to my mind. “Was your angle, Tex? Unwilling to bargain.”

She was good at this. She’d obviously bargained before. Unless I missed my guess, she was probably accustomed to getting what she wanted. Every damn time. Maybe a be the first man had ever said no to her. Maybe.

“I don’t have an angle, and his medicine. My business is my own. They don’t have a partner, and I don’t like small talk. You’re beautiful woman, but that doesn’t change anything as far as I’m concerned.”

She moved back, out for the like. It was a tactical retreat. The first assault had failed — time to fall back and regroup. And reached for another Lucky and lit it up. It tasted especially good.

The second assault began. “I have a proposition.”

There was no harm in hearing her out. She was making my eyes feel better, and she smelled good. I could sit here all night, listen to Classic Jazz, polish of the bourbon, and enjoy the company of a stunning woman.

“I saw you get dumped out front. Looked like an NSA speeder. I’m guessing that they are looking for the same box I am, and that’s why they invited you in for a chat.”

Either she was a very good guesser, or she had me at a disadvantage. I decided not respond.

“Since I’m talking to you, I would assume that either you gave them the box, or told them you could get it.”

I was suddenly uncomfortable. She was too close to the truth to be bluffing. Maybe she and I needed to reach an understanding. “How do you know about the box?”

Regan smiled and wagged her finger. “I’d have to get to know someone pretty thoroughly before I come clean on that one.”

I smiled back. “Well, then, maybe you should get to know me pretty thoroughly.”

Regan bit her bottom lip gently. “Unfortunately, I don’t think we have enough time.”

“So what’s your proposition?”

Her face turned serious. “I’m not sure how much you know. What do you know about Malloy?”

I wasn’t sure whether I should answer. Maybe this woman was NSA. Maybe this whole conversation was just a more pleasant repeat of the one I’d had in Jackson Cross’s office. “Malloy? Sounds vaguely familiar, but I’ve never been do with names.”

“Well, I’ll just assume that you know little about him. He recently sent out a number of packages like the one I think you’ve got. The NSA was closing in on him, and he panicked. He split up a lot of information and sent a portion in each of the boxes. I don’t think anyone knows exactly how many boxes there are, but whoever finds them all stands to make an ungodly amount of money.”

“Where does that leave Malloy?”

“He’s a dead man. If the NSA hasn’t got him yet, someone else will. Right now, it’s a race to see who can get all the data he dispersed and reassemble it.”

“You still haven’t made your proposition.”

Regan leaned toward me, excitedly. “I already have one of the boxes. Give me the one you’ve got, and I’ll cut you in on the deal. If you can help me locate the others, we’ll have more money than you’ve ever imagined. That’s my proposition, plain and simple.”

There was no such thing as more money than I could imagine. But my instincts told me that the whole thing sounded cockeyed — not to mention illegal. More importantly, I had absolutely no reason to believe that I could trust this woman. Despite my reservations, I was intrigued.

Regan reached for her coat and stood up. “You’ll probably want some time to think this over.” She fished out a card and jotted something down on it.

“Call me at this number when you’re ready to talk. Like I told you, I already have one of the boxes. If it will help, I’ll show you mine first. You can show me yours later.” She turned and walked to the door. As she opened it, she turned back. “Don’t lose the number, Tex. I think we’d make a perfect fit.”

Then she was gone. I needed a cold shower before I could think about anything constructive.