Detective Fog and the Mission Pigeon

Chapter 45. Leander Calls It In

Leander stepped outside the pier building and clapped his hands together as if he were dusting them off. Maroulis looked him up and down, for blood, he knew. Not saying a word, he turned his back and walked down the sidewalk and around the corner of the building out of earshot. He pulled out his phone and dialed the last number. A minute ago, still inside with Fog's body, he had called, and no one had answered.

​"Get me the boss," he said when the line clicked open before the person on the other end of the line had any time to speak.

"Sure thing, Rey," the female said in reply, and Leander recognized both Jessica Zane's voice and her stupid code name for him.

Mena took the phone a minute later and said, "What can I do for you?" No indication she knew who it was, no code names, but if she hadn't seen the caller I.D., she would have asked. And she would have seen the caller I.D. Talking in code wasn't Leander's strong suit, but Mena was an expert in vagaries that would keep her from ever being incriminated, so he did his best and trusted she wouldn't castigate him if he said the wrong thing; she would still be immune.

"Listen, I need a favor, or to make a deal. I need to get to it quick since this is a matter of some urgency. I just took care of a problem, and I want something in return."

This was where it got tough, making his proposition without saying anything that would get both of them arrested. Phone lines were the least secure form of communication; he'd have better luck keeping out of jail if he shouted at the top of his lungs what he wanted from Mena and hoped she heard him over in North Beach.

"I need to ask that you hold off the execution . . ." He paused to give her time to make the connection, then as if finishing the sentence, added, "of your plan. I'm going to swing by and pick up my partner. Is she doing all right? I hope she's still healthy. Her sister's not."

There was a sound as of Mena drumming her fingers against the phone, making a pattering echo on the mic. Then she said, "I understand your urgency, but I'm afraid you're too late. She's not well."

The bottom of Leander's stomach dropped out. Not well. He sputtered. Dead. It was his own code. Mena's communication skills were flawless, if she understood his meaning, she meant what she was saying. It was too late for Dianthea. Dianthea was dead.

"Are you sure?" he breathed into the phone. When she replied in the affirmative, he shook his head and got lost between his feet and the sky. "Please," he said, and his eyes screwed up with the wetness that was exploding out of them. It felt like an avalanche was welling up in his skull and trying to escape out of his face.

He demanded into the phone, "Please, can you check for sure. Can you call and ask if it's too late?" The words came out in sobs that surprised him. The physical response shocked him. "I'm going to come by. Please, please check for me . . . I need to know . . . when I get there."

Mena purred reassuringly, "It's all over."

Leander clicked off the phone without worrying whether that was rude. After three heaving breaths, he gasped and gulped down enough air to calm down. Breathing more normally, he wiped his face on his jacket. There was blood on the sleeve after all, he saw. Probably best to burn the whole suit. More composed, he stepped out of the shadows and made his way back to Maroulis and the car. There would be no hiding his distress from her, but at least he had himself under control.

He got into the passenger side, saying, "Can you drive? We need to go by the boss."

Thank you for reading Detective Fog. If you're looking for more of the Constellations series to read, the books can be read in any order. Check out Stars Rise to see how the stories intersect; the easter eggs from reading these two books together will be really fun.