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I was sitting in the lobby of the 14th precinct police station, waiting for one of Luncardy's officers to come and guide me to the Captain herself. I knew the drill by now: some young copper would appear, guide me wordlessly to Luncardy's office and close the door behind him. Then Luncardy would deign to notice my presence, snarl at me a bit, and finally get around to talking about whatever nugget of information she chose to deposit in my lap. So it was quite a surprise when the great lady appeared in the lobby herself. I stood up politely as she approached, my hat in my hand, and nodded a greeting. "Let me buy you a coffee, Gask," she said without preamble, taking my elbow briefly and guiding me towards the main doors. "Sure thing," I answered, "I'd be delighted." I screwed my hat back on my head and followed her down the steps and along the street. We walked in companionable silence along the busy pavement to a coffee shop on the corner of the block, one I had not been in before. The coffee shop was busy enough, but not particularly full, and there were a dozen or more unoccupied tables at the rear of the joint. The waiting staff clearly recognised Luncardy, and we were immediately shown to a quiet booth at the back. The Captain ordered coffee for us both - strong and black - which appeared almost immediately. I sipped at it - it was good, just the way I liked it - while watching her over the rim of the cup. She took her cigarettes and holder from the pocket of the mannish jacket she habitually wore, screwed a cigarette into the holder and put the end in her mouth. Finally, she felt it was time to open up. "There was a raid a couple of days ago," she said, blowing smoke over her shoulder, "On an unauthorised import/export operation in some outlying cavern, with the upper end in up-town New York." "I did read something in the newspapers," I said laconically, "How did you find out about this operation?" "We had an anonymous tip-off." "How anonymous?" I pressed urgently. "What do you mean?" Luncardy asked, apparently mystified. "'Anonymous' as in 'we're not telling' or 'anonymous' as in 'we genuinely don't know'?" Luncardy's handsome face screwed up into a frown. "We genuinely have no idea," she said slowly, a trace of suspicion in her voice, "It wasn't from any of our usual sources. None of the usual agencies had any leads. Then we get a phone call, followed up by a note, with photographs. Photographs of your errant sister, amongst others." "I'm not surprised," I said calmly, sipping at my hot coffee again. "All right," Luncardy continued, suddenly more suspicious, "What do you know about this raid?" "I was there," I said simply, "I ran away." Luncardy leaned forward over her coffee and waved the lit end of her smoking stick under my nose. "Gask," she growled, "I should have known. You seem to have the knack of being in the right place at the wrong time. Want to tell me all about it?" Luncardy was a good cop, painfully honest. She could be trusted, mostly. I told her everything, leaving out just one tiny detail, for reasons I didn't know at the time. I emphasised that Trinity thought she was running a legitimate operation and had the documents to prove it. I told her that Trinity was in business with Urquhart Garrick, which made Luncardy narrow her eyes. I told her that Rosie recognised the warehouse through a haze of memory glamours, that Gumshoe was helping me find out what happened to Rosie. I told her about our escape through a hidden tunnel - a human tunnel, not magical - that nobody except Trinity knew about. What I left out was the presence of Nether at the warehouse. When I finished speaking, Luncardy blew smoke and ignored her cooling coffee. "Okay, Gask," she said grudgingly, "I think I can accept we're on the same side here. If you see your sister, you might persuade her to come and talk to us. We'll catch up with her eventually anyway, and it would good if she came in by herself." "If I see her, I'll tell her," I agreed, although I wasn't expecting to see Trinity unless she wanted something from me. "And this Urquhart Garrick," she said, emphasising her words carefully, "He's a wanted criminal. You hear anything about his whereabouts, you talk to me first. Okay?" I nodded. It wasn't a promise I necessarily intended to keep. Without another word, Luncardy crushed out her cigarette with her long strong-but-slender fingers, stood up in one smooth movement and stalked out of the coffee shop.
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Part 54