Page 17 of Circle of Death
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“He means after last night,” says Margo.
“Those little buzz bombs?” Jessica waves her hand like shooing a fly. “I’ve seen worse.”
I glance at Margo. She just smiles and shakes her head. Maddy’s grandmother is one tough character. The truth is, I can’timaginewhat she must have seen in her sixty-six years. I know for sure that she saw the civilized world descend into chaos and cruelty under the Khan regime. I know she raised Maddy on her own in a tiny one-bedroom walkup—and taught her how to survive in a very dangerous world.
Then, a year ago, she had to deal with the shock of having me and Margo show up in their lives out of nowhere. Jessica was arrested, imprisoned, and nearly killed in our battle against Khan. But none of those things seem to affect her. She just put them in the past and moved on. Right now, she’s more peeved by something she sees out of the kitchen window.
“Look at that!” she says, pointing into the distance. “Mindless!”
I lean over to see what she’s looking at. It’s a huge construction crane poking into the sky on the far side of Manhattan.
“I can’t believe they’re actually going through with it!” says Jessica.
Now I understand what has her so irritated. It’s not the first time we’ve heard about it. She’s looking toward a huge site on the East River where the 2088 World’s Fair is under construction. Jessica does not approve of the project, to put it mildly.
Margo sets a platter of scrambled eggs on the table. “If you ask me, the city could use a little distraction,” she says.
“Waste of time and resources,” says Jessica, taking a small helping of eggs. “People are still trying to get back on their feet. There’s no cell service, for God’s sake. The power grid is spotty. This is no time for an overgrown circus!”
Margo looks at me across the table. We both know there’s no point in arguing.
Suddenly, I sense movement in front of the house. I hear the sound of a car horn from the driveway. Is it possible my missing operatives have finally shown up? I jump out of my chair and head through the front hall.
Better late than never!
CHAPTER 19
I RUN THROUGH the foyer and open the front door.
“How ’bout a spin, boss?”
It’s Moe, standing by the driver’s-side door of a sleek midnight-blue limo. Not exactly what I was hoping for. Unless he’s got Hawkeye and Tapper hidden in the trunk.
I step onto the driveway and take a good look at the vehicle. “Khan’s car? Where did you get this?”
Moe flashes a big grin. “Maddy and I found it in the subbasement. Quite the little dealership he had down there.”
Moe is practically bouncing in front of the car’s open door. I can tell he’s dying to test it out. Why not? I know exactly where I want to go.
I turn and call back through the doorway, “Margo! I’m going out!”
“Be careful!” she shouts back. Like always.
I walk around to the other side and climb into the front passenger seat. The interior is all hand-tooled wood, soft leather, and sleek electronics. The car is a custom-made hybrid—electric engine with a small gasoline reserve. But gasoline is notoriously hard to come by these days. Black market only.
“Don’t worry,” says Moe. “Plenty of juice in the battery.”
The limo makes a satisfying hum as Moe rolls down the driveway toward Fifth Avenue. “Where to, boss?”
I cannot believe how much he sounds like the Moe Shrevnitz I worked with back in the 1930s—the one who bugged his cab to let me listen in on his passengers’ conversations. One of the best natural detectives I ever met.
“Head crosstown,” I tell him. “I want to check out the fair.”
“What fair?” Moe asks. I guess Margo didn’t cover it on their tour of the neighborhood.
