Castle Danger_The Mental States by Anthony Neil Smith

Author:Anthony Neil Smith [Smith, Anthony Neil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-3-7325-3015-1
Publisher: Bastei Entertainment
Published: 2017-07-25T04:00:00+00:00

My mouth had dried up listening to her.

Marquette had known all along. He had put this all into play and then tossed out a trail of breadcrumbs for me to find. He knew I couldn’t resist. But surely he didn’t want me to delve this deeply into his Machiavellian scheming. Only far enough to expose his enemies. He had set it all up so I could discover the Fancy Rooms — although he sure as hell hadn’t counted on Nice’s interference — and blame the Democrats for all this mess. Him and Tennyson both, they’d set me up. I would be the bearer of bad news, the expendable messenger who might just get shot, exactly as they’d planned it.

Think about it: How did I get involved with this? We found Hannah. If we had been able to hold on to her body, then maybe I never would’ve met Andrew Marquette. There would have been no need. But once he and Raske had me marked out as someone they needed to watch, in case I got too close to their secrets … I became expendable … a pawn in their perverse power games. Now that I was seeing it from a different angle, it looked self-evident that their secrets were larger than the trannie club and Hannah’s relationship with the Chief.

How much of Hannah’s death had I solved on my own? Or was it all like the game Clue, where ‘the crime’ had been preordained, sealed in a tiny envelope, not to be opened until I reached the correct answer.

By ‘correct’ I mean the answer Marquette wanted me to believe.

Which triggered another memory: this was Hans’ apartment. Somewhere, he or Tennyson or Thorn were listening to every word we were saying.

I cut Nice off, held my finger to my lips. “This is ridiculous. That can’t be true. You’re in on it.”

Her eyes widened and she started to protest. I quickly leaned across and whispered, “Play along.”

“I swear, I’m telling you the truth.”

“No, this is all bullshit. Dylan sent you. He’s working with Konzbruck. I can’t believe I fell for this shit. Count yourselves lucky that I’m too tired of all this bullshit to call the cops.”

While I spoke, I wrote a note on my phone, like I was going to send a text, showed it to her: We need to go. Can’t talk here. I forgot.

She nodded.

“Get the fuck out of here. Both of you. Jesus. Wasting my night. I’m changing the locks, I’m changing my passwords. Get out.”

They went out into the hall, and I slammed the door for effect. Then I ran back into my room and quickly dressed, brought the gun along for good measure, then slipped out into the hall alongside Nice and Fergus. One last thought flitting through my mind before I softly clicked the door shut.

They’re going to kill me for this.

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