Low Port Part 24

"Well, we're not going to get anything else done tonight. It'll be sunrise in a few hours. Start of s.h.i.+ft tomorrow night we'll go talk to Frederica."

"Who's she?"

"Funny you should ask," I said, holstering my gun.

We found Freddie, or Frederica, as he preferred, trolling for s.p.a.cers around some of the wilder off port bars in what used to be Governor's Island. Freddie did an astonis.h.i.+ng job of pa.s.sing for a good-looking girl: with black hair, a splendid surgically enhanced rack and nice legs. Freddie had the brains to do other things but his soul had turned dark early. Or as he put it, 'I like the night life.'

We cruised over to the curb. Freddie spotted the unmarked and smiled a lop sided smile after he saw it was me. We got out of the car. It was still raining, always seemed to be lately.

"McMa.n.u.s," said Freddie, looking out from under an umbrella at me. "You finally come to your senses and leave your wife for me?" The husky voice didn't quite give Freddie away. A whisky voice my dad would have called it.

"Sorry, Freddie," I replied. "Not that you don't look good."

Freddie did a mock pirouette, his dress swirling up around legs that were unfairly feminine. "So what can I do for you, Flatfoot?" he asked, using my street name.

"Knock off the c.r.a.p," snapped Reg.

Freddie raised an eyebrow at Regina. "Ooohhh, she's a cutey. New girlfriend, Brian?"

"Freddie, meet Detective Regina Delmar. Reg, meet Freddie."

"That's Regina," she said archly, then looking at Freddie added, and to you it's Detective Delmar."

Freddie extended a hand. Reg ignored it, so Freddie turned it into a curtsey. I could see Regina going into a slow b.u.m.

"Come on, ladies, there's a coffee shop across the street. We can get out of the rain. I'll even buy."

"See," said Freddie with a wicked grin. "Brian thinks I'm a lady."

Reg muttered something obscene under her breath.

Hoping gunfire wouldn't break out behind me, I led the way to a little Greek shop. We slipped in out of the rain and grabbed a table by the window. Gusts of errant wind scrubbed rain into the gutters outside. The waiter, a Rigellian, looked like a cross between an old man and a goat. He smelled like the goat. He brought us coffee and danishes.

"So, Freddie," I said, "what do you know about Arcturians?"

"Bad people," said Freddie with a delicate shudder. "Got a lot of weight and like throwing it around."

"Lately there's one who seems to be moving into the smuggling racket," I said. I sipped the coffee, savoring its warmth and smell. The danish was good too.

"Heard that," said Freddie.

"What else have you heard?" asked Regina.

Freddie gave me an expectant look.

I slipped a small envelope across the table to Freddie. He took it without looking inside. It was the usual. Not much, but it was a ritual. It insulated us from any thought that our relations.h.i.+p was anything other than business.

"There's an Arcturian named Toldas Harkarian," said Freddie, "trying to set up a network to move something past a few corrupt customs guys over in Area Eighty Eight. Haven't heard what it is. You tangled with him last night, I hear."

"How do you know that?" asked Reg.

"Oh, honey," said Freddie. "When a beautiful female cop goes running topless through a feelie p.o.r.no, whacking people on the head... well... word gets around. You've got a street handle now, Topless."

I could hear Regina's teeth grinding.

Freddie continued. "The Arcturian is working with Ratface Moestel. He owns the theater. Say, did you catch any of Lair of the Lesbian Love G.o.ddess?"

"I was too busy to watch," I lied, not daring to look at Regina.

"Film's got artistic merit," said Freddie, "especially the scenes where the Love G.o.ddess ties up-"

"Freddie," I said, exasperated.

"Oh, all right. You know Moestel?"

"Yeah, I know him," I replied. "Never heard of him being mixed up in anything other than sleazy movies."

"He moves a lot of stuff out the back of the theater," said Freddie. "Fenced goods, contraband, things that fall off the truck when the union boys are loading."

"The uniforms should have picked up on that," said Reg.

"Unless they are being paid to look the other way," I replied.

"The theater is the drop-point for the stuff, whatever it is. That's all I know."

"Thanks, Freddie," I said.

Freddie drained the last of his coffee. "See you around, Flatfoot. Thanks for the coffee. Nice to meet you, Topless." Freddie sashayed out into the dark and rain.

Regina started to say something but caught my eye and subsided.

After a minute we got up and headed for the car. The rain awaited us. It fit my mood. Seeing Freddie always made me feel sad. His was a wasted life and nothing would change it. We got back into the car.

"How do you know that... that person?" asked Reg.

"Freddie was getting the c.r.a.p beat out of him by some s.p.a.cers. False advertising."

"What?"

"Goods delivered were not goods bargained for. Some of those Free Traders get kind of picky about that sort of stuff."

She looked at me.

"You know, our work day would feel a lot shorter if you'd develop a sense of humor."

"Hah hah,'' she replied.

"Okay, that was gruesome," I said. "Anyway, they had poor Freddie beat half to death when I stopped them. Took him to the hospital, made sure he was okay."

"What are you a cop, or a social worker?" asked Reg.

I started the car and put it in gear. The turbines whined. "All creatures great and small," I quoted, "the Lord G.o.d made them all."

An hour later we crept into the alley behind the theater. This time we both had our weapons drawn and I was wondering why I let Regina talk me into doing this without back up. Again. Her pride, I suppose. Slowly, we made our way to a window outside what the city computer said was a storage room. We crouched below it. The gla.s.s was partially cracked and a chunk was gone from one pane.

I started to raise up for a look when a voice sounded from inside the room.

"Do you have the cargo, human?" rumbled a deep voice.

I quickly sat down on my haunches and looked at Regina.

The Arcturian, she mouthed silently. I wet my lips and nodded. The s...o...b.. must be just on the other side of the gla.s.s.

"Yeah, it's all here," said a recognizably human voice. "And I told you, the name's Moestel. The customs guys are covered and everything is ready to go."

I looked at Reg and nodded. We hit the back door side by side, cras.h.i.+ng through.

"Freeze! Police!" I yelled.

Rat face squeaked and dropped to the floor. The Arcturian turned toward us and lurched forward, a gray skinned tower of muscle. His hands were empty, so I couldn't shoot him. I leaned to the right and kicked his knee. Hard. He made a booming sound and began hopping on one leg. His hand whooshed over my head as I ducked. Regina leaped with a "ki yah!" and kicked him full in the chest. The Arcturian crashed into some crates behind him with a howl.

Three of the crates broke and cats exploded into the room. Lots of cats. All colors and shapes. They ran frantically in all directions. Most of them ran over the Arcturian. His arms and legs jerked spasmodically, he gave a loud cry then collapsed.

Rat face looked at me from the floor. "I ain't saying nothing till I see my lawyer."

Ambulances came and took the comatose Arcturian away. Ratface left in the paddy wagon. Animal control arrived, called for reinforcements, and gathered up the cats as evidence. There was much hissing and scratching. Some of it was from Regina. "Cats," she kept repeating, "they were smuggling cats."

At headquarters, we spent the next several hours writing reports before the Lieutenant called us down to the hospital where the unconscious Arcturian had been taken. The Precinct Captain had been and gone by the time we arrived. The Lieutenant was staring at two Arcturians as we walked into the ward. One wore a doctor's coat and was carrying a medical scanner.

The Lieutenant looked over at us sourly. "So you're here finally. Detectives McMa.n.u.s and Delmar, meet Dr. Verhoo and Mr. Sandanvah of the Arcturian Legation."

Diplomats, I thought. c.r.a.p.

"How's the prisoner?" asked Regina crisply.

"His condition is serious," replied Dr. Verhoo. "While he is no longer in danger of dying, the coma may be indefinite, a side effect of extreme s.e.xual stimulation in our species."

"Excuse me?" said Regina.

"This brings up a delicate subject," said Mr. Sandanvah. "it is only recently that we've learned that the presence of Felis catus causes a state of almost manic s.e.xual arousal in the Arcturian species. Harkarian accidentally discovered this on his last voyage. He brought home a few felines and sold them for fabulous sums."

"Cats," I said.

"Yes," replied the doctor with a hint of defensiveness. "Does not petting a cat generate a feeling of euphoria in your own species.

"Usually only in women of a certain age and marital status," I replied.

"The effect is many hundred times greater in one of our species," the doctor stated.

"So, when he fell into a couple crates full of them..." began Regina.

"Essentially a lifetime of s.e.xual pleasure crammed into a few seconds before his nervous system simply shut down," finished the doctor.

Hysterical laughter lurked at the back of my throat. "Couldn't handle a little..."

"Don't say it," interrupted Regina.

"Our species would find it most embarra.s.sing if this were to become generally known. We must keep this entirely quiet. Your President has a.s.sured us of your cooperation."

"Of course," I said, trying desperately to keep a straight face. The Lieutenant looked daggers at me.

The two aliens bowed and walked off, deep in conversation. I looked at the Lieutenant. "Don't say it," he ordered.

I pressed my lips together firmly.

"So," began our Lieutenant, "thanks to you two, we got Arcturian bra.s.s talking to Earth bra.s.s, who are talking to the Chief, who is talking to the Captain, who told me that it was a good thing that we had all this spare time on our hands from chasing tech, drugs, and illegal aliens, so we could now chase p.u.s.s.ycats!"

"And all I wanted," mourned the Lieutenant, "was a quiet s.h.i.+ft where nothing happened." He looked at us darkly. "Back to the streets for you two. Try not to stir up any more trouble and, for G.o.d's sake, avoid reporters."

"Yeah," I said. Regina followed me out silently. I made it all the way to the parking deck before I collapsed against a wall, laughing my a.s.s off.

"It's not funny," snapped Regina. "We aren't even going to get credit for the bust."

"The case of l.u.s.t in the Lair of the Lesbian Love G.o.ddess," I laughed in a mock British accent. "After all, it was all about kinky s.e.x. Or maybe we should call it, "Looking for some Earth..."

"Don't say it," she yelled.

I looked at her and laughed harder as tears came to my eyes. After a moment, she couldn't help it and started laughing too. We both ended up sitting on our b.u.t.ts, incapacitated.

After we laughed ourselves out, I turned to her. "Well, Topless, wanna go fight some crime?"

She sighed. "Why not, Flatfoot. I don't think I'll be sitting for the Lieutenant's exam anytime soon."

We hopped in the cruiser and headed out of the parking lot. Overhead, thunder rumbled through the sky. It seemed it was always raining lately.

CONTRABAND.

Nathan Archer