Neil shook his head.
“Highly improbable,” Calvin answered.
“Sebastian may be onto something, though,” Quinn said. “Not three suspects, but that the events are indeed related.” She looked up at Calvin. “We know whoever killed John Doe doesn’t have a weak stomach. And how easy would it have been to do the same to Sebastian last night?”
I swallowed the distinct taste of bile trying to come up my throat, and caught Neil looking at me. I squared my shoulders and said nothing.
“But it sounds like they want more from Sebastian,” Quinn continued. “And that they’re convinced thesemoviesmust be obtained through him. Shooting up the Emporium may in fact be dangerous escalation—scaring him into cooperating, perhaps.”
“Except I don’t have any other movies,” I pointed out.
Quinn shook her head. “They might not be aware of that fact.”
“Why is this footage so valuable to the suspect?” Neil asked. “Was it dipped in gold?”
“Blood is more likely,” I answered. “The way I see it, if we want to follow the clues in a conservative manner, this has a money-making scheme written all over it. And the poor kid in the dumpster may be nothing more than the victim of a greedy partner unwilling to share whatever cash the Kinetoscope owner tries to hold me accountable for. But if you’re willing to suspend your belief a bit, my assailant, who we suspect may also be the murderer, came after me to steal the second portion of the footage that had a century-old killing on it. It had nothing to do with the Leonard-Cushing boxing match. So what if there is a connection between the past and the extremely shitty events happening right now?”
Neil rubbed his forehead like he had a headache, then made a gesture at Calvin. “He’s all yours.”
I gave him an annoyed look. “Pig heart, Neil.”
Calvin put a thumb and finger to his mouth, whistled loudly, and waved at what I guessed was a patrol car parked across the street. He turned to face me. “I’ll make sure the Emporium is taken care of.”
“If you believe I’m not going to research this, you think far higher of me than you ought to,” I replied.
“Research to your heart’s content,” Calvin said. The patrol car pulled up to the curb behind him. He took me into his arms and hugged me tight. “Just do it from your father’s couch.”
“KIDDO!” WILLIAMSnow exclaimed as he opened the door to see me hiking the stairs to his apartment.
“Hey, Pop,” I replied. I gave him a hug in the doorway. My police escort had made certain this time that I got inside safely, and without an attacker on my heels.
“What’re you doing here?” He stepped aside and let me enter the home.
“I’ve had a long day,” I answered, crouching to unclasp Dillon’s leash. He immediately ran to Maggie, both wagging tails and sniffing butts.
Pop was consulting his watch as he shut the door. “It’s not quite noon.”
My shoulders drooped. “Fuck.”
He came up behind me, took my shoulder, spun me around, then started patting my hair down. “You’re a grown man, Sebastian. Comb your hair.”
“I was recently rolling on the floor.”
“I can see that. Don’t let Calvin suck your neck.”
“What? No. No—I was on the floor with Neil. I mean—not…. Can I have a beer?”
Pop took a step back and gave me The Look. “Not at 11:45.”
I pulled my messenger bag off my shoulder and set it on the back of the couch. I walked to the table near the windows. The blinds were drawn—the home always dim and welcoming as if Pop could just sense I was dropping by. I collapsed into a chair and pulled my sunglasses back to rest on my head. Pop joined me a moment later. He put his hands on the back of a chair beside me but remained standing.
I glanced up at his detailless, blurry figure.
“Oh, Sebastian….”
“How?” I protested. “How do you know without me having said anything?”
“I’m your father.”
