Content warnings for talk of police corruption, references to military service, chronic illness, hospitals, shooting (nothing graphic), blood and medical issues, prejudice against fictional people, talk of gangs, non-graphic violence, mentions of drug and alcohol addiction, misgendering (in the context of someone assuming the gender where it’s not known), mention of spiders and rats, smoking, and swearing.
Many thanks to LB Lee and KristyCat for sensitivity and beta-reading. Any mistakes are my own.
Please let me know if you see any typos or other mistakes. Thanks.
Shard City doesn’t love anybody, but I can’t help loving it. It has its bright spots but unless you stay in those small oases it turns into a very ugly place at night, The cops hardly try anymore – too many crimes, too many gangs. It’s funny how you get used to it. Used to watching out for the sun setting, for the alleys like open mouths, for the people with gleaming eyes and hidden weapons. I’m sick of it. And I mean to do something about it.
My name is Delia Tyelu. I’m the White Knight.
* * *
October 27th, 2008
Lieutenant Harry Suchek frowns at his computer, busily typing up yesterday’s reports with two fingers, when his partner, Sergeant Kella Aurita, sets a mug of coffee at his elbow. “Thanks,” he grunts. He finishes the current line and stretches. The copious frown-lines around his eyes soften.
She leans against the side of his desk, holding her own mug. “When are you going to learn to type?” she asks. She’s short, just under five foot, and with him seated, they’re almost eye level.
He snorts. “When are you going to learn to drink coffee that’s not mostly milk?” She rolls her eyes as he takes a careful sip. He sets down the mug. “Patrols found three new punks in Pottsville. Tied up with a note like the last bunch.”
“I heard. Whoever this new hero is, they’re busy.” She holds up the newspaper she’d had tucked under her arm. The headline screams, ‘HERO IN SHARD CITY.’
Suchek shakes his head, scowling. “Just what we need. Bad enough we’ve got a vigilante, we gotta get a bunch of hacks making up bull. They’ll start hanging around every alley looking for a story and who’s gonna save them, huh?”
The beads on the ends of her box braids tap as she shakes her head. “Most of them are smarter than that.”
“But they’ll still scream at us when one of them gets hurt.”
A voice from behind him. “I feel the same way.” They both turn, Suchek rising quickly, barely not spilling his coffee. The speaker, their boss Deputy Chief Cooper, is tired and annoyed, unfortunately common ailments for her. “You two in my office in five.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She nods and continues past them.
In contrast to Suchek’s desk, and Aurita’s for that matter, Cooper’s office is fastidiously neat, except for her prosthetic arm tossed on the cabinet behind her desk. The only reason she’d worn it was that she’d supervised a gun training course this morning. Suchek stands rather stiffly at attention, while Aurita is more relaxed, but still plenty formal.
“What is it, Chief?” she asks.
“Two things.” Cooper taps a couple of folders on her desk with her left hand. “The Nathan Burton case is stalled. I know you two can figure it out.” They nod. “Second…” She grimaces. “You worked with Secret Heroes in the War, didn’t you Lieutenant?” He’s the only one in the room to have served – Aurita had been nine and Cooper had been exempted due to medical reasons.
“We didn’t call them that then, and I never worked next to one, but yeah, I met a few.”
Cooper nods. “Get me the regulations on Secret Heroes. Keep it quiet. I don’t want this it turn into more trouble than it has to.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Suchek takes the folders.
Aurita spreads the files out on her desk. Suchek picks up a sketch from one of the interviews of people caught by the White Knight. “Whoever this is, they’re smart,” he says. She takes the sketch from him. It’s a well-armored figure whose helmet covers almost their entire head. She nods absently.
“I’m more concerned about the Burton case. This is sloppy.” Nathan Burton had been shot during what appeared to be a mugging on September 3rd in Pottsville. There are no suspects and apparently no witnesses. That’s not unusual for Pottsville: it’s a dangerous area and people keep their mouths shut to stay out of the attention of the local gangs. But this doesn’t appear to be gang-related and the Burtons are well-liked, even in that community.
He looks over her shoulder and he scoffs when he reads the name of the officer on the file. “You’re surprised?”
She sighs. “I know, I know. I’m too optimistic.” Cooper wouldn’t stand for it with her officers, and neither of them would work with a superior who did, but a lot of money flowed from the gangs to the police.
* * *
In another part of the city, Delia Tyelu Burton is dealing with her own pile of papers. She sighs and pushes the search engine printouts to the side. They’re covered in checkmarks. She leans back and fiddles with her wedding ring, gazing across the desk, but not really seeing the blue and gray helmet sitting on it.
She rubs her eyes, then leans back over, scrutinizing the lists of pawnshops and used jewelry stores. “Looks like Cocks Crow Row is next.”
Her kid catches her in the garage. “You’re going out again?”
“I’ll be careful, Joel,” she says, pulling a gray sweatshirt over her armor. The matching pants soften the hard lines but don’t hide the split-toe boots.
“Can’t you leave it for the police? You’re not finding anything and you keep getting into fights.”
Her eyes tighten. They’ve had this discussion before. She grabs the handlebars of the sleek black motorcycle leaning against the wall. “I’ll be careful.” With a grunt, she shoves it toward a beat-up van whose paint is more primer and mis-matched colors than original. “It’s just until I find who shot your dad.” The van’s suspension groans as she pushes the bike up the ramp into the back.
Joel sighs. “Yeah, you said.”
She pulls the doors closed and in a moment the van is rumbling, surprisingly smoothly, out of the garage.
Joel pulls off his glasses and rubs his eyes, his hands shaking. “I-I don’t believe that, Mom. And I d-don’t think you do either. What’s dad going to say when he wakes up?”
* * *
At the police station, Deputy Chief Cooper is reading over the day’s reports. When Suchek knocks, she looks up tiredly. “Come in, lieutenant.” He hands over the folder on the White Knight she’d given them.
She pulls it over and opens it. On top is the list of rules from the Secret Hero Union. “Thank you.” He nods and turns to go. “Lieutenant?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“What do you think of this ‘White Knight’?”
He takes a breath, considering. “Well… on the one hand, this person is putting themself in danger for unknown reasons. This makes them unpredictable.” Cooper nods. “Furthermore, they are practically stating they’re more effective than the police. On the other hand…” He pauses. “We can’t work after dark. Not in Pottsville, not in V-town, not much of anywhere we’re needed. And the White Knight does. And they’re careful. They give us the evidence and don’t go heavy on violence.”
Cooper leans back to digest this. Suchek’s been on the force a long time, and he’s rather opinionated. “I see. Good night, lieutenant.”
“Chief.” He swallows. “I don’t like feeling useless. I joined up to help people.”
“I understand.” They all had, but Shard City made it difficult.
He nods. “Good night.”
* * *
October 28th
Aurita sighs and lets her head fall back. “Ugh.” She rolls her head, stretching out her tired neck. “I can not believe how bad this is.” They’ve passed their other open work to other detectives so they can focus on the Burton case and they’ve been going through the file since they got it yesterday.
“The crime scene investigation is good,” Suchek says. He pulls the file over.
Aurita snorts. “Yeah, cuz our forensics did it.”
He closes the file. “I know you need a break if you’re sounding like me. Let’s go get lunch.”
“Yeah, okay.” She takes the file and locks it in her desk. “I heard about a new Aawanani place. Wanna see how it compares to Kaimana’s cooking?” Kaimana is one of her younger brothers, and an excellent cook of both parts of her heritage. Suchek couldn’t deal with the spice in most of the Caling food they made, but found the Aawanani stuff delectable.
“Absolutely.”
“We’re going to have to start the interviews over,” Aurita says, stabbing at her fish and veggie bowl.
Suchek stirs his own bowl. One thing about being partnered with Aurita was he ate a lot better than he did alone. “Yeah. Split up the list?”
“I guess. I want to get started first thing tomorrow morning.”
He smiles. She was unstoppable. “Sounds good.” After a few bites he thinks of something. “Has anybody checked up with the family at all?”
Aurita groans. “I bet not. I’ll check, but I bet I’ll be making a phone call.” He nods, his mouth full. “Let’s see if we can talk to them today. Give them an update.”
* * *
Delia stops by her assistants’ desk. “Has anything else come in?” Everybody was working so that Delia could have time to go see Nathan every day, but sometimes things still came up.
The assistant checks their screen and shakes their head. “No, ma’am, you’re clear.” They smile hopefully. “Don’t forget the card from Mr. Ashbow.”
“I’ve got it, thanks. See you tomorrow.” She pauses by her car to call home. “Hey, do you want me to pick you up on my way to the hospital?”
“No, I’m not f-feeling g-great.” Joel has an autoimmune disorder and stress makes it worse.
“Okay. Take it easy.” She pauses. “Oh, don’t forget those officers are coming over tonight.”
“I won’t. Love you.”
The only noise in the hospital room is the respirator and other machines. Nathan is still unresponsive. Delia’s brother-in-law has been there every day, same as her, and he’s there already. He puts his arm around her as she sits next to him on the bench under the window.
“Mom will be by later. She’s bringing some fresh flowers.” Loreen Burton, her mother-in-law, can’t visit often, but makes sure there were always flowers for when Nathan wakes up.
“That’s good,” she says numbly. Walking into the hospital room seemed to drain her of all energy. She sighs and pulls away. “This is a terrible city.”
“Aw, come on.”
She fiddles with her ring, watching Nathan breathe. “You don’t live here, Leonard. You don’t know.”
“Connorsson isn’t that far.”
“It-“ She closes her eyes, then continues bitterly. “You don’t know what it’s like, living where you can’t be out past dark. Not just small folk, but everybody. Even people like Nathan.”
“There are places like that in Connorsson.“
“Some places, yeah. And it’s bigger than Shard City.”
He considers, then says quietly. “Why don’t you leave then?”
She sighs. “It’s my home. Despite everything, it’s my home.” This is the worst thing that’s happened to her, but it’s not the only thing. She gets up and brushes back Nathan’s hair. Her golden skin is almost the same color. “I grew up here. I met Nathan here. Heck, we started Future-Tech here, knowing what it was like. We wanted to make things better. I won’t give up.”
* * *
Joel groans when the doorbell rings. Delia is stuck in traffic and his Anderson’s tremors is making balance and talking very hard. He leans back and shouts at the kitchen where Quigley is preparing dinner to be cooked as soon as Delia gets home. “Hey! C-c-can you g-get the door?”
“Yeah, one sec. Let me wash my hands,” Quigley shouts back. They walk by a moment later, wiping their hands on their pants.
Joel remembers. “Ah- hey. I-it’s-s prob-bably the p-police.” Quigley freezes. “It’s f-fine. It’s-s about D-dad.”
Quigley swallows. “Yeah. Okay. Um.” They shake their head. “Yeah.” Their voice changes a bit.
“Kimmy?” Joel says.
They snort. “Seriously dude?”
“Hi Jeffr-rey. Haven’t seen y-you lately.”
“Yeah, well, the ladies are asleep.” Quigley is multiple – several people sharing a body. Jeffrey doesn’t front much because he can’t see well, but he has to pull up the slack today for Wayne, who is afraid of police and other authorities. Wayne was going to cook tonight. Usually it was him or Kimmy or sometimes Corinne, except Corinne doesn’t cook. It was easiest to use plural pronouns since they’d pop in and out as needed as they cooked and cleaned house.
“S-Sorry. I just d-don’t feel like falling d-down.”
They shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”
Aurita and Suchek were at the door, their hats in their hands. They’re quite a pair: she’s black with deep brown skin, short, and younger and he’s white the color of a sugar cookie, average height, older, and looking older than his years. As the ranking officer, he steps forward, presents his badge and introduces them. “Is Mx. Tyelu home?”
“Not yet. She said traffic is bad,” Quigley says. Aurita nods – they’d heard about an accident on their way over. “But Mx. Tyelu-Burton is in.” They lead them in.
“S-Sorry for n-not standing,” Joel says. “I’m Joel Tyelu-Burton, he/him. Mom sh-should b-be home any m-minute.”
“Not a problem,” Suchek says, presenting his badge again. “I’m Lieutenant Suchek, he/him. This is Sergeant Aurita.”
She holds out her badge. “She/her. We took over the investigation of your parent’s shooting. Do you mind if we wait for Mx. Tyelu before we go over it?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, that-t makes s-sense. P-Please, have a seat.” They settle onto the couch.
“Would you like some coffee or tea or something?” Quigley asks. “We have some warm biscuits in the kitchen.”
“Tea would be great,” Suchek says with a lopsided smile. “I can’t have too much caffeine this late.” He glances at his partner.
She nods. “Yes please, tea will be fine.”
Quigley returns in a few minutes with a platter and sets down cups. “Green, black, or herbal, lieutenant?”
“Oh, herbal is great, thank you.”
Quigley nods and spoons some tea into a metal strainer before dropping it in Suchek’s cup and adding water. “Sergeant?”
“Black, please.”
Quigley prepares hers and green for Joel. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” Joel says. “Could you c-call Mom and see h-how she’s d-doing?”
“No need,” Delia says, coming in through the kitchen. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
Aurita and Suchek rise and introduce themselves. “We’ve taken over your spouse’s case,” Suchek says. “We’re terribly sorry that it’s taken so long.”
Delia sits in the chair next to Joel and clasps her hands together, looking down. “I thought… Well.”
“We’ve reviewed the case as-is,” Aurita says. “And we’ll be starting our investigation first thing tomorrow.”
“We’ll do our best to solve this as quickly as possible, and we’ll keep you informed of our progress,” Suchek adds.
“Thank you,” Delia says. She forces a faint smile. “That’s good to hear.” They go over the basics of the case – it looks bad, but Aurita is convincing in her devotion to duty. Delia finds herself nodding, but once they leave she retreats to her office. Joel finds her there shortly.
He leans heavily on the closed door. “So?”
“So what?”
“Are you g-going to leave it t-to them?”
She closes her eyes for a moment. “No.” Her hands clench unconsciously. “It’s been over a month and they don’t even have any leads?”
“They just got it,” he protests.
“They just got it. What if it gets handed off to somebody else who doesn’t care either?” Her voice is rising and she takes a deep breath. “I’m close. I know I am. I’ll give them the evidence, just like I’ve been doing, and they can wrap it up.”
“You could at l-least give them a ch-chance…”
* * *
October 29th
Suchek growls at the newspapers on Aurita’s desk as he sets down their coffee. The headline reads ‘White Knight: New Un-Man Hero?’
“Can you believe this?” he grumbles, settling into the chair beside her. He frowns, the sidebar catching his eye. He slams his mug on top of it so his coffee sloshes, soaking over ‘Un-men Reminded Must Register with OP&PS.’
“At least they’re accomplishing something,” Aurita says.
A younger officer leans over. “Talking about the White Knight?” he asks excitedly. He glances at the headline and rolls his eyes before flipping it over.
Aurita’s eyebrows raise, but she responds neutrally. “Yeah.”
“Damn vigilante,” Suchek huffs.
The young man frowns. “That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?”
Suchek glares at him. “Yeah, Edwards? What would you call them? Don’t we look bad enough? You think we need somebody in a fancy suit showing us up?”
Edwards spreads his hands. “The job’s getting done, right? Getting the freaks where they belong? And by a real hero.”
Aurita starts to rise, but Suchek has gone red. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says coldly.
Edwards’ voice rises, cracking slightly. “Yeah? I know un-men are the reason this city’s so fucked up and not a single one of the crooks they’ve caught has said anything about powers, despite that rag’s fiction.” He waves sharply at the newspaper.
“You-“
Aurita’s voice is sharp enough to cut. “That’s enough, officer.” Edwards flushes, looking indignant. Suchek grips the arms of his chair, his jaw clenching. Aurita sets a hand over one of his, while staring down Edwards. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Edwards stalks off and she settles herself back into her chair, watching her partner.
“Stupid kid,” Suchek growls.
She nods. “Yeah. You okay?” He shrugs. After a moment, she changes the subject. “Maybe I’ll finally be able to do a night shift again.”
Suchek exaggeratedly rolls his eyes. They’ve had this conversation before, but it’s better than thinking about the young officer’s bigotry. “Most dangerous time of day.”
“Most exciting.”
He runs his hands through his thinning hair. “Well, it’d be nice to be able to do some real good instead of just cleaning up the mess and filing the paperwork.” He flips the paper back over. The most recent person the White Knight had saved was a young un-man woman on her way home. He sighs and pushes it aside. “Come on, we’ve got interviews to do.”
Aurita eyes him. “Yeah.”
* * *
October 30th
Delia rests her head on her hands. She’s supposed to be looking at this sales report, but she’s just so tired. Nathan would say she was pushing herself too hard, but she’s doing it for him.
The clamor of the phone ringing makes her jump and she reaches for the desk phone instinctively. “Dammit, what now?” Except it’s not flashing. “Shit!” She scrabbles for her cellphone. It’s Leonard.
“What’s wrong?”
His voice is calming, which doesn’t help her heart rate. “Everything’s okay.”
“Leonard…”
“Let me finish, okay?” he says soothingly, “Everything’s fine now. Nathan had a blood clot, not a serious one. They took care of it and he’s on meds to keep it from happening again. I told the nurses I’d call, but the doctor will talk to you when you get here. But he’s fine.”
She takes a couple of deep breaths. “You sure?”
“That’s what they told me and they’re the professionals.”
“Okay. I’m coming over.” She’s already closing everything on her computer.
He sighs. “If you want, but really, you could come later. Or you could go get some rest.”
“How am I supposed to rest?” she snaps.
“Delia…” He pauses. “Look, this is hard for all of us. But you shouldn’t wear yourself out. There’s always one of us here. You don’t have to be here every day. No one’s going to think you’re abandoning him.”
He’s making sense, but she ignores it. “I’ll be over soon.”
“Okay. Drive safe, okay?”
“Yeah.”
* * *
October 31st
Aurita frowns at the list she’s working on and drops out of her chair, heading for the records room.
“Hey,” Suchek says, bringing back some coffee, “where you going?”
“I’ll be just a second.” Hopefully Cooper already filed it. Aurita had read the rules Suchek found – they couldn’t unmask a hero, they couldn’t investigate who they were or what their motivations were – but she has to look. The records room’s empty and Cooper had been efficient as always. She chews her lip as she compares the list of the pawn and jewelry shops around where Burton was shot – the places she and Suchek were in the process of checking – with the locations the White Knight had worked.
Yeah, they match. The hero had to be going down the same list: each of their catches is within a block or so of the shops, or approaching that area of town, always from the same direction. Could be coincidence. She knew people were really good at seeing things that weren’t there. But…
She sighs and puts back the White Knight’s file. It doesn’t matter one way or another.
* * *
November 2nd
“Damn, damn, DAMN,” the White Knight mutters to herself as she drives through Pottsville. She’d been sure she’d find something tonight. She needed to. But she’s searched every shop around and found nothing. She’s cornered every slimebag she could and gotten nowhere. Maybe…
Scared yelling from close by. She grits her teeth and roars toward it. At least she can deal with this.
* * *
November 5th
Suchek scowls. “You sure?”
The thug lifts the tissue from his lip. “There isn’t anybody else riding around here in blue and chucking shields, is there?”
“You want to tell me why the White Knight attacked you three?” They glance at each other. “And don’t give me shit.”
The apparent leader of this wannabe gang finally shrugs. His hair is stringy from a night in a puddle and he’s got a hell of a black eye. “We were just mugging a guy. No reason to practically kill us. We didn’t even have guns.”
Suchek looks them over again. No broken bones, but broken noses, sprained wrists, and a heck of a lot of bruises. It was more brutal than the White Knight’s style so far. He glances at the silent one – probably no broken bones. The kid had gotten a shield to the ribs and it would take x-rays to make sure. And with no photos, they would get community service at best. What the hell?
He sighs and waves over his back-up. “Take these three in. Make sure they get medical attention.” The officer was young, but she was one of Cooper’s. She’d do it right.
“Yes, sir!”
* * *
Delia stumbles past the living room where Joel’s curled up with a book. He looks up.
“What time is it?”
He checks the clock. “Little after ten. Quigley went for groceries a while ago. They made waffles t-today. I even left you some.”
“Ah crap, it’s Wednesday already?” she says blearily. Quigley only cooked breakfast on the Wednesdays they came to clean. Joel nods and follows her into the kitchen. She stares at the coffeepot and turns to find a mug.
“So how’d you do last night?”
She takes a deep breath. “No luck, but stopped, uh, two robberies, five muggings, three car thefts, and one vandalism.”
“Not bad.” He sits at the table.
She nods. She feels empty. It seems like all she does is go through the day in a daze, sit at the hospital watching Nathan breathe and getting angrier and angrier, then work off that anger at night. She plops down across from him and stirs her coffee. Joel pushes the newspaper toward her as she piles waffles onto her plate. “They’re saying you’re just what the city needed.”
“Baloney.” She adds syrup and butter to her waffles before glancing at the paper. “Crime’s actually going down? It’s only been three weeks!”
Joel takes it back and flips through it. “You gotta see this one. ‘The White Knight is obviously an un-man trying to improve their reputation.’ Letter to the editor.” He’s smiling. Has he smiled at all since Nathan was hurt?
“That’s a new twist, I suppose,” she says blandly.
“Better than ‘secretly hired by the police.’” Joel watches her eat. “So are you worried about the S-Secret Hero Union?”
She shrugs. “I haven’t heard anything. The newspapers haven’t said much.”
He frowns slightly. “You’re going to get into trouble. There are rules, y’know.” He’d found them and put them in her office one morning.
She shrugs again, grabbing another waffle. “I won’t be doing this much longer.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that.” He gets up and heads back to his book.
“Joel…”
“What?” he snaps, then wilts. “Sorry. This is just – I worry, you know? But you keep h-helping people. Are you really going to stop?”
She gets up and wraps her arms around him. “I am, honest. Once I find the mugger and Nathan’s home.”
“Okay,” he sighs into her shoulder. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” She wishes she actually felt something. It’d been like this when her parent’s store had been vandalized all those years ago. She’d spent the days after just feeling numb, but that went away, and her family had come back from it. Maybe she’ll come back too once Nathan comes home.
* * *
Suchek phone dings. He squints at it – he really should get his eyes checked. Aurita’s sent a message: she’s found a witness. He takes a deep breath. Finally. Finally they’ll make some progress. He climbs into his car to meet her.
She’s finishing up as he arrives. “Thank you very much, ma’am.” She hands over her card. “If you think of anything else, you just call this number. My name’s Sergeant Aurita.” She sees him approaching and waves. “You can ask for Lieutenant Suchek too. He’s my partner.”
“I will. I’m sorry I can’t be more help.” The witness looks to be in her 30s, somewhat shifty-eyed. But who could blame her if she’s in Pottsville? There’s plenty to be watching for.
Aurita joins him by the car. “Lunch?”
He nods. “Yeah. There’s an old police diner about ten minutes from here. The food’s good.”
“Sure.”
She briefs him as they wait for their food. “She lives on the second floor at the end of the block where Burton was mugged. She heard the shot.”
“Why tell us?” he asks. Aurita sighs. Sometimes his cynicism gets on her nerves. He clarifies, “It’s been weeks and nobody’s said anything.”
“Her brothers used to work in the Future-Tech mailroom. One of them moved away after he finished college. The other ended up od’ing.”
He nods and then their food arrives. It’s heavier and greasier than he’s been eating lately, but sometimes he feels like it, especially when things have been going badly. It reminds him of his dad and his dad’s buddies on the force.
“She peeked out the window. Didn’t see Burton, but saw a blond white person, between 25 and 30, walking away. She thinks they had a gun.”
“Thinks?”
She shrugs. “It was two stories down and dark.”
He nods. “So we have a lead.”
“Yeah. Depending on how far they went, there’s a couple of security cameras down that street.”
“If they’re working.”
“If they’re working, yeah.”
They were working, most of them. Less of them are working now – there’d been a bunch of teenagers with rocks a week ago. But the business manager lets them see the footage. It’s grainy, but clear enough. White person with a low hip to shoulder ratio and light-colored hair brushing against the shoulders. Carrying a pistol.
“One, two, three cameras. Then the gun’s gone,” Aurita says.
“There’s an alley between those two cameras,” the security officer offers.
“Where’s the alley go?” Suchek asks.
“Nowhere. It’s a dead-end against a warehouse. But there’s a couple of dumpsters down there.” Suchek swears internally, before the officer continues. “They’re hardly used. I think they only get emptied once a month?”
Aurita’s eyes gleam. “Can you take us there?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Suchek eyes the scene. There’s a couple of smears in the dirt that could be footprints, but who knows how old those are? Aurita watches him. He knows she’d be tapping her foot if she wasn’t such a professional. “Doesn’t smell bad enough to have dumpsters,” he notes.
The security officer shrugs. “Like I said, they’re hardly used. And we don’t get many homeless people around here.” No, not in Pottsville. The homeless stayed in the camps or at least parts of the city where they were less likely to lose everything.
There’s a recycling and a trash dumpster. He leans over the first one. “Aurita, call forensics. Looks like we’ve got it.”
“Really?!”
He pulls out a bag and some nitrile gloves then leans back over. “Really.” He drops it in the bag in front of her. It definitely looks like the same gun.
* * *
November 8th
Aurita perks up as he drops the folder to her desk. They’ve taken back some other cases as they waited. “Got the forensic report back on that gun,” he says.
“And?”
“It matches the bullet.” She grins. He continues, “I already pulled the serial number. Want to take a ride?”
“Absolutely.”
The owner of the gun looks like a drug addict, but had no record. Suchek didn’t say anything – he has plenty of addicts in his family, mostly alcohol. Life is hard and sometimes you need something to cope.
“It’s not my gun,” he repeats.
“Sir, it’s registered to you,” Aurita says.
He shrugs. “I sold it to a friend of my cousin. I-” He pauses. “Look, I’m trying to get out of here, y’know? I’m going to a counselor so I can work again. I needed money for that.”
Suchek nods. “Good for you. Do you remember the name of who you sold it to?”
He chews on his lip, considering. “Nah, but let me call my cousin, okay?”
“That’d be very helpful,” Aurita says.
As the guy finds his phone, Suchek leans in to talk quietly to Aurita. “You okay if I run to the car real quick?”
Her eyebrows rise. “Sure. Anything wrong?”
“No. I think I’ve got a business card this guy might be able to use.”
She nods. When he returns the guy is finishing up his call. “Eddie Torm? You sure? Thanks. Give my best to your mom, okay?”
“You remember what he looked like?” Suchek asks as he hangs up.
“Uuuhhh. White dude. Kinda scraggly looking. Blond. He smoked a lot, I remember that.”
“Any idea how old he was?” Aurita asked.
“I dunno. Early 30s maybe or a little younger.”
“You’ve been a great help.” Suchek handed over the card. “This is the number of a rehab place. They find jobs for ex-addicts.” The guy took it. “A couple of my friends used them.”
“Thanks.”
* * *
It’s getting late and people are hurrying home. The White Knight is instead speeding through the streets. She slows as she approaches a used jewelry store.
“Randall’s? I don’t think-“ she mutters to herself. Something in the barred window catches the light from a passing truck and she pulls the bike to a hard stop. She leans against the glass, peering at a tray tucked to the side. Her breath hisses.
September 3rd
Nathan Burton glanced at the sky and sped up. He pulled his coat tighter around him, his wedding ring – the same ring Delia has been searching for – catching the light from the street lamps just starting to light up. He didn’t notice the seedy-looking young man leaning against an alley wall.
The young man looked around the corner, his face lighting with predatory interest. He dropped his cigarette and hurried into the back of the alley.
“Oh man, Delia’s gonna give me an earful,” Nathan muttered to himself.
The young man stepped out of another alley, just ahead of Nathan. “Hey man, help a guy out?” he asked in an easy tone, one hand in his pocket.
Nathan took a step back. “I don’t- I don’t have any money on me.”
He gestured with his free hand, his white skin bright against the dirty brick and concrete surrounding them. “Come on, fancy man, you gotta have something.” His other hand started to slip free of his jacket pocket, gripping something.
Nathan raised his hands. “I don’t, honest.”
He frowned. “How about that pretty ring?”
Nathan’s hand curled around it. “It’s my wedding ring,” he said, with a hint of defiance.
He pulled out the gun, grabbing Nathan’s wrist. “I don’t fucking care.” Nathan tried to pull away, his eyes wide. “You fucking fancy rich guys. Why don’t you share a little?” Nathan tried to protest, but the young man sneered and let go of him, snorting as Nathan stumbled back.
A gunshot echoed down the street.
A little later, the street was lit with strobing lights. Delia picked up Nathan’s glasses and hat as the paramedics lifted him into the ambulance.
Still November 8th
The White Knight stalks into the jewelry shop. The balding owner startles, looking like a deer in front of an oncoming semi. He’s only got the jewelry counter as a shield.
“That ring in the window. Who sold it to you?” she growls down at him.
He swallows hard, glancing from her clenched fists to her armored face. “Wh-which one?”
“Platinum. Shield-cut sapphire, surrounded by white sapphires.” She’s glaring across the counter.
The owner sweats. “I dunno. We, uh, we get lots of people in here.”
She puts both hands on the counter, looming over him and he steps back. “I – want – his – name. Now.”
He cowers. “I’ll look. Lemme look, okay?” She nods and he hurries into the back, with her shadowing him. He glances back from where he’s about to unlock the file cabinet. “You can’t come back here!” She just glares at him. He swallows hard and opens the cabinet, glancing at her. It only takes a moment for him to find the right file. “Eddie Torm.” She grabs the file. “Hey! You can’t-“
She ignores him and he scurries after her. She stops at the window to delicately pluck the ring from the display.
“You can’t take that! Listen, you-“
She turns. “This is stolen property. I’m sure the police would be glad to know what sort of merchandise you’re selling.”
He wilts. “Never mind…”
* * *
The sun is just starting to set as the low rumble of a motorcycle silences the hum of insects. The White Knight pulls up to the address recorded by the jeweler. She scowls. The building looks abandoned – the windows are boarded up and the landscaping reduced to twigs and dirt. It looks like no one but raccoons and squirrels has lived here in a long time. The rest of the buildings on the block don’t look much better, although they at least have a few lights dimly shining from windows.
The rotting front door doesn’t take much effort to force. She heads up the stairs, her face grim, and watched by unconcerned spiders and rats. She stops at the door of Torm’s supposed apartment.
“Somebody doesn’t like you.” The door is splattered with bullet holes. Even aside from that, there’s a chunk broken out of the bottom corner and the doorknob is gone. She pushes it open. A warm breeze blows through the broken window opposite, rustling dead leaves. From the remains of a chair, nesting birds chirp angrily at her. “Dammit!” Her fist pounds against the door frame, bringing a rain of debris.
* * *
Cooper sighs heavily and pushes aside the report she’s reading. She rubs her eyes and puts her glasses back on. It’s dark at the station, late enough that she’s the only one left around. She gets up, leaning heavily on her only arm. It’s been a long day and she’s more than ready to go home. One more report though, after she gets something to drink. She frowns as she passes the records room. There’s a dim light shining through the door’s glass. Everyone else should have left by now – they can’t justify a second shift – and the night guard had no reason to go in there.
She opens the door carefully. “Who’s there?” The light disappears and she swears internally as she leans on the door to keep it open while she reaches for the switch.
“Evening,” a collected voice says. It’s the White Knight, unless there’s somebody else running around the city in gray and blue armor.
“What are you doing here?” Cooper asks, coolly.
“Just finishing up. Sorry about this.”
“What-“ The hero tosses something and Cooper turns her head just fast enough to not be completely blinded as the flash pellet over-illuminates the room. The White Knight pushes past her too past to be grabbed. Cooper rushes after a moment later, blinking quickly. But the hallway is clear again. “Dammit!”
She turns back to the records room.
“Shit.” They must have finished right as she came in because the place looks untouched.
“I’m coming for you, you bastard,” Delia say, peering at the photos she took. She’s got his address. She’s got him.
* * *
November 9th
On an apartment building roof, the White Knight is peering through binoculars at a window of the building adjacent. “Come on. Come on home, you bastard.” Her chest is tight. She’s got him. This was all going to end today.
Finally a beat up sports car with fading red paint pulls up and parks. Up on the roof, the White Knight smiles grimly. “Gotcha.” He leans against his car and lights a cigarette. The White Knight chews her lip. She could take him now, but she’d rather have some privacy. Finally he stubs it out and soon the door of the apartment she’s observing opens. There’s a soft noise from the roof, too quiet for anyone but the roosting pigeons to notice.
Suchek parks. It’s a gorgeous day for an arrest.
“That’s his car,” Aurita says, pointing. It’s still ticking cool. She glances at him.
“Good, we won’t have to waste a lot of time waiting for him.” He follows her inside and up the stairs.
Torm locks the door behind him, not seeing the White Knight swinging from the roof until the window breaks. Swearing, he backs against the door, one arm up. The other fumbles in his pocket. She releases the grapple line from her wrist. It swings back out as she leaps for Torm. He dodges. They’re almost the same height, but the armored figure still seems to loom over him. “You thought you could get away?”
He pulls free his switchblade, flicking it open. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” He yelps as she kicks it out of his hand and scrambles after it.
“What’s that noise?” Suchek asks, trying not to pant.
“Sounds like a fight?” She cocks her head. “From…”
“Next landing is Torm’s place.”
“Yeah…” She runs up the last few stairs.
She’s reaching for him when the door is kicked down.
“Freeze!” Aurita shouts. They both startle, then the White Knight dashes and leaps out the window, grabbing the hanging line. Aurita rushes to the window. Torm glances at her and heads for the door.
“Not so fast,” Suchek says. “Eddie Torm, you’re under arrest.”
He gapes at him. “Me? He assaulted me!”
Aurita pulls out handcuffs. “So noted. You have the right to remain silent…”
Grinding her teeth, the White Knight clambers over the rim of the neighboring apartment building. She rapidly coils the line to put in an opened pouch. “I had him.” A couple of pigeons land near her. “I had him, dammit! I-” The adrenaline rushes out of her. “Oh hell. Those were…” She collapses against the roof ledge. “I was… I was going to…” She takes a deep breath. “I gotta go home.”
Aurita peers out of the broken window. She can see some blue peeking over the roofline.
“You coming?” Suchek says.
“Yeah.”
“He attacked me!” Torm shouts again.
“We saw,” Suchek says drily.
“Mom?” Joel says as she pulls up.
“Hey,” she says tiredly.
“You okay?”
“Uh. I screwed up. I’m fine. Um.” She climbs off the bike. “It’s… It’s over. The police arrested Torm. He’s the one that shot Nathan.”
Joel’s face hardens. “How long have you known that?”
She shrugs. “Since yesterday.” Her hair is plastered to her head as she pulls off the helmet.
“And you didn’t tell me.”
She sighs. “No. I screwed up. I got… I guess I was obsessed. I almost…”
“You almost what?” Joel says softly. She drops the helmet on the bike. “Mom?”
“I was going to beat him up.” Joel doesn’t say anything, his face closed off. “I was so angry. And now I’m just tired.”
He comes over and says gently, “Let’s go see Dad, okay?”
* * *
November 15th
Nathan wakes up. Everything is so heavy and his mouth his dry. “Delia?” His voice is a whisper, but there she is anyway.
She leans over him. “Hi.” He loves her eyes and there they are, so dark and deep.
“Hi,” he says back.
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