CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Forty minutes later Lucy shoved the stew and the corn bread into the oven and poured two large glasses of wine. The sooty clothes were all in the washer. The leather jacket and packs were outside on the balcony. With luck, the smoky odor would be gone by morning.
She took the lid off Otis’s pretzel bowl. He hopped up onto the rim and went to work selecting pretzels. She opened a cupboard, took down her own jar of pretzels, and filled two small bowls. She handed the wine to Gabriel, picked up the bowls, and led the way to the sofa.
They sat down. Gabriel propped his sock-clad feet on the coffee table, ate several pretzels, and then leaned back against the cushions. He drank some of his wine and lowered his glass.
“Interesting day,” he said.
Lucy ate a few pretzels, picked up her glass, and stacked her slippered feet on the table. “That’s one word for it.”
They both looked at the miniature video recorder sitting on the coffee table between the two bowls of pretzels. The recorder was not the only souvenir of the day on the table. The two velvet jewelry bags they had discovered in Pitney’s private vault were also there.
After a moment’s contemplation, Gabriel leaned forward and picked up the recorder.
“Let’s see if we can rez it,” he said. “If it’s locked I’ll call Aiden and tell him I need help.”
“Okay.”
Lucy watched Gabriel rez the start button. To her astonishment, the screen lit up. A blinking light indicated it was ready to record or review previous recordings.
“Huh.” She took another sip of wine. “Pitney was big on security. Wonder why he didn’t use a password.”
Gabriel rezzed REVIEW. There was a brief delay before the image of an aging elf of a man appeared on the small screen. He wore a leather apron over a faded work shirt. His unkempt gray hair was topped by a brimmed leather cap. When he spoke, his voice was strong but laced with urgency and dread.
“My name is Stewart Pitney. I’m an expert in rare amber tuning. If you’re viewing this, I am probably dead. I’ll keep the message as short as possible. A few weeks ago a man who identified himself only as Tuck brought a handful of raw gray amber stones to my shop. He asked me to tune them so that they would resonate with each other when in close proximity. I didn’t like the look of the man—ex-Guild, I think. But he paid cash. I admit the gray amber interested me. I’d never seen anything like it. Tuck wouldn’t tell me the source, but I’ve seen a lot of rocks in my time. I’m almost certain the amber he gave me came from the Ghost City. Here’s the video of him that my recorder picked up when he came to my shop.”
A short video of a seriously bulked-up man wearing a leather jacket, boots, and khaki cargo trousers popped up. Tuck wore a black cap with the brim pulled down low over his eyes, but it was possible to see the lower half of his face and his jaw.
“Could be a biker,” Lucy said.
Gabriel shook his head. “Pitney is right. Tuck is ex-Guild.”
“No offense, but how can you tell the difference between an ex-Guild man and a low-rent biker gang enforcer?”
“The way he wears his nav amber,” Gabriel said. He never took his eyes off the screen.
Lucy took a closer look. “Damn, you’re right. He’s loaded with it, right down to his earring and belt buckle.”
“Old habits die hard.”
“Maybe the habits aren’t so old. What makes you think he’s ex-Guild?”
“If he’s not already ex, he will be as soon as I find him.”
Pitney resumed his tale.
“Tuck ordered twelve amber pendants that could be worn under clothing. One of the pendants was to be the keystone. It could be used to track the other eleven pendants. His main concern was confidentiality. I assumed he was forming a gang or a club. Figured it wasn’t my business. It’s not the first time I’ve handled that kind of request. I fulfilled the order, including the keystone. But toward the end my intuition kicked in. I created one more pendant, another keystone, and kept it for myself.”
Lucy picked up the smaller velvet bag and took out the glowing amber pendant. “This must be the thirteenth stone.”
“The standard pendants resonate with the others within a short distance—fifteen to twenty feet, max. But the keystone has a much longer range. It’s basically a tracking device. Works on the surface or in the tunnels. I used it to follow Tuck from a safe distance immediately after he picked up the twelve pendants. He drove to the Shadow Zone and stopped at one of the low-end casinos. He took a package inside. When he came out he was no longer carrying it, but the tracker indicated he was wearing one of the stones.”