Read Online Grimm - The Icy Touch by John Shirley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: John Shirley
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past the high prow of the ship. Hank paused and looked up and down the terminal’s long metal and concrete dock.
“How could there be a tunnel here nobody would notice? Does it come out under water, or what?”
“I was thinking about that. There’s one possibility. Might be a culvert there, see it?”
“Where?”
“Over here...”
Nick walked quickly up the dock, stopped another fifty paces on, Hank jogged after him.
Nick could see the outflow from the culvert, the wrinkling of the water’s surface as run off flowed at right angles into the river. Nick lay down on his stomach, shuffled forward, and looked over the edge. The culvert was hard to see from the dock, but from here it was a barred opening about twenty feet in diameter, stretching into darkness. Water ran along the bottom, just a stream about three feet wide, to a concrete lip where it spilled into the river. A rusty barred gate closed the culvert off, just above the outflow.
Hank laid down beside him.
“You wear those cheap suits, doesn’t bother you to lie on the damn ground. Nick, that thing’s all locked up.”
“It’s closed. It’s got hinges on it. There’s a padlock. Padlocks can be opened.”
“You think they load stuff in and out from a boat?”
“A big launch could lower off the far side of that boat at night, carry stuff over here. They could get it up there and into the tunnel.”
Hank stood up, dusting himself off. “Wrinkling my clean pants,” he muttered. He indicated. “That ship there, you think?”
“Hard to say. But they were kind of pushy about getting Smitty to help them with something. Like it was happening soon. And there’s the ship.”
“That’s not probable cause. We need a warrant to get on that ship. We could call the Coast Guard, I guess...”
“Rather we searched the ship ourselves. I’ll call Renard about the warrant.”
“They don’t give out warrants like French fries at a drive-thru. Going to take some time.”
“Something else we can do in the meantime. You hear that?”
Hank shook his head. “What?”
Nick cupped his ear and pretended to hear something.
“There’s someone yelling for help from that culvert.”
“No, there isn’t. If there were, protocol would be call the fire department.”
“No time for that. Sounds urgent.”
“We even need a warrant for a culvert?”
“I don’t think so. But we should have a reason for going in there, just in case.”
“Like imagining we hear someone down there?”
“I almost do hear them. Kind of.”
“Okay, Nick. Well, you enjoy hunting around in there.”
“Not going alone, Detective Griffin. Need you there, pal.”
“No way, not in these shoes. Not going to do it.”
“We can get some wading boots from somewhere. Hey, look—” Nick pointed at a blue and white boat moving slowly up the river. “—one of those little Coast Guard river boats! We can wave ’em over, get ’em to loan us some boots, take us in a boat right up to the culvert...”
“Hey, wait—what if that gate’s locked?”
“I can accidentally break the lock. Accidents happen, Hank.”
* * *
Monroe knew he shouldn’t be following Nick and Hank like this. He shouldn’t have followed them in his truck, and now on foot. He was using Blutbad skills to evade their notice, following back at the fence, moving along parallel to them as they walked up the dock. Keeping his distance—knowing if he got any closer Nick’s Grimm abilities would alert him.
This is wrong.
They were his friends, Nick even more so than Smitty. But his loyalty to Smitty was paramount just now. Smitty had been a fellow Blutbad in recovery who’d died—at least from Monroe’s point of view—for ordinary humanity. He’d died for refusing to revert to Blutbad predation. Because when Blutbaden tried not to be predators, they did it partly to protect human beings. Of course—they also did it to protect themselves from human beings; from being hunted in retaliation... And
“How could there be a tunnel here nobody would notice? Does it come out under water, or what?”
“I was thinking about that. There’s one possibility. Might be a culvert there, see it?”
“Where?”
“Over here...”
Nick walked quickly up the dock, stopped another fifty paces on, Hank jogged after him.
Nick could see the outflow from the culvert, the wrinkling of the water’s surface as run off flowed at right angles into the river. Nick lay down on his stomach, shuffled forward, and looked over the edge. The culvert was hard to see from the dock, but from here it was a barred opening about twenty feet in diameter, stretching into darkness. Water ran along the bottom, just a stream about three feet wide, to a concrete lip where it spilled into the river. A rusty barred gate closed the culvert off, just above the outflow.
Hank laid down beside him.
“You wear those cheap suits, doesn’t bother you to lie on the damn ground. Nick, that thing’s all locked up.”
“It’s closed. It’s got hinges on it. There’s a padlock. Padlocks can be opened.”
“You think they load stuff in and out from a boat?”
“A big launch could lower off the far side of that boat at night, carry stuff over here. They could get it up there and into the tunnel.”
Hank stood up, dusting himself off. “Wrinkling my clean pants,” he muttered. He indicated. “That ship there, you think?”
“Hard to say. But they were kind of pushy about getting Smitty to help them with something. Like it was happening soon. And there’s the ship.”
“That’s not probable cause. We need a warrant to get on that ship. We could call the Coast Guard, I guess...”
“Rather we searched the ship ourselves. I’ll call Renard about the warrant.”
“They don’t give out warrants like French fries at a drive-thru. Going to take some time.”
“Something else we can do in the meantime. You hear that?”
Hank shook his head. “What?”
Nick cupped his ear and pretended to hear something.
“There’s someone yelling for help from that culvert.”
“No, there isn’t. If there were, protocol would be call the fire department.”
“No time for that. Sounds urgent.”
“We even need a warrant for a culvert?”
“I don’t think so. But we should have a reason for going in there, just in case.”
“Like imagining we hear someone down there?”
“I almost do hear them. Kind of.”
“Okay, Nick. Well, you enjoy hunting around in there.”
“Not going alone, Detective Griffin. Need you there, pal.”
“No way, not in these shoes. Not going to do it.”
“We can get some wading boots from somewhere. Hey, look—” Nick pointed at a blue and white boat moving slowly up the river. “—one of those little Coast Guard river boats! We can wave ’em over, get ’em to loan us some boots, take us in a boat right up to the culvert...”
“Hey, wait—what if that gate’s locked?”
“I can accidentally break the lock. Accidents happen, Hank.”
* * *
Monroe knew he shouldn’t be following Nick and Hank like this. He shouldn’t have followed them in his truck, and now on foot. He was using Blutbad skills to evade their notice, following back at the fence, moving along parallel to them as they walked up the dock. Keeping his distance—knowing if he got any closer Nick’s Grimm abilities would alert him.
This is wrong.
They were his friends, Nick even more so than Smitty. But his loyalty to Smitty was paramount just now. Smitty had been a fellow Blutbad in recovery who’d died—at least from Monroe’s point of view—for ordinary humanity. He’d died for refusing to revert to Blutbad predation. Because when Blutbaden tried not to be predators, they did it partly to protect human beings. Of course—they also did it to protect themselves from human beings; from being hunted in retaliation... And
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