The Cold Case of Jack Gemini by T. A. Jenkins

Author:T. A. Jenkins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, scifi, noir, detective, queer
Publisher: T. A. Jenkins
Published: 2021-11-20T00:00:00+00:00

17. Copycat

We hadn’t followed Gary Emmerson that night. It was too late in the evening. But I’d arranged to meet up with him the next day, not least because of his appearance at the Church, but because he would be the best person to help with my other case. A more important case, given to me by someone who should be the most important person in my life. Could I trust Emmerson? No. Not that I’d trusted him before I’d seen him in that warehouse but now, I trusted him less.

I turned my focus to the missing Delartes.

Graves, I was goddamned sorry to say, had well and truly paid for the information she’d provided. The ultimate price. And now, it was time to use the information that had left a child without a mother. I needed Gary’s skills to get me, and Regan, access to the hospital databases.

Regan had stayed the night on my sofa, and I’d left him at my office; told him not to get into any trouble and I hoped he’d followed my instructions to lay low.

Gary Emmerson lived in a small hovel in Sector Six, near to the fire door that joined this sector and Sector Seven. I’d only ever been to his apartment once before and usually arranged to meet him in public. He could be a little creepy. I’d sent him a message ahead of time, not only to prepare him for my visit, but to prepare myself, mentally.

I felt like I was being watched, tracked. I was almost certain I’d seen the familiar robes of the cultists in my periphery, but I couldn’t be certain. I ducked into a dark alley, something Sector Six had no shortage of, and made sure I was out of view of the street. It paid to be careful. And it gave a chance for whoever was, if they were following me, however sloppy, time to catch up.

It was mid-morning, and this was the first indication that there were any repercussions from our actions last night. Maybe I was being paranoid; the cultists often stalked the streets looking for converts and donations. I peeped into the main causeway. No-one. I didn’t want to draw much attention to myself, not that the downtrodden souls of my home sector would care, but I checked my pocket and ensured my gun was loaded and cocked. Just in case.

Emmerson’s appearance at the Church of the Third Encounter might’ve been nothing, might’ve been me seeing things that I wanted to see. I wasn’t the most trusting person. Trust was not something helpful in my line of work, but something about him being there made my instincts reel. I’d known he’d been a little obsessed with the place, the organisation, but something wasn’t right. And it couldn’t have been work related; it was rare to see him leave Sector Six, even when a pay cheque beckoned.

Damn it.

I shouldn’t speculate. Not yet. I needed to speak to the man himself before I jumped to any conclusions.

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