Natural Born Angel (Immortal City 2)

“Detective,” Minx said.

Sylvester stopped and turned around to face the bombmaker. Minx was holding the watch in his hand.

“This may take me some time to adjust. I want to make sure I do a fine job on such a beautiful piece.”

“That’s fine, take as long as you want,” Sylvester replied. “I just want the job done right.”

The frosted glass rattled on the door as Sylvester walked out, Minx still peering at the watch through his strange glasses as the detective’s footsteps faded down the hall.

That evening, Detective Sylvester walked down the hall of his old building, floorboards creaking under his loafers as he made his way to his apartment. He had a plastic bag with a container of green chicken curry from his favourite spot in Thai Town, which was just down Angel Boulevard from all the tourist shops and the Walk of Angels. He was looking forward to eating it. And getting some rest.

It was eerily quiet, the hallway empty except for a neighbour, an older Mexican woman, walking her Pomeranian. The small dog yipped at Sylvester as they passed.

“You have a visitor,” she said, nodding down the hallway.

Sylvester looked up and saw Jackson Godspeed leaning against the door to his apartment. Interesting, Sylvester thought.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” he said.

“Not too long, detective,” Jacks said. “I would have got your number from my stepfather, but . . . well, I didn’t want him to know I was visiting.”

The detective opened the door to his apartment and fumbled around in the dark for the light.

“Please, come in and take a seat.”

Jacks entered the modest apartment and looked around at the walls that had given him and Maddy refuge almost a year before, after Sylvester had saved them from the demon in the high school. He sank down into the couch. He was holding a small envelope in his hands.

Sylvester put his keys and the Thai food down on the side table. He pulled a chair over from the kitchen and sat down.

“What can I do for you, Jackson?” the detective asked.

Jacks offered him a small manila envelope, placing it on the coffee table.

“Inside is a zip drive and a DVD. On the drive are all the statements the Angels’ investigating committee has received, and that DVD has video surveillance from outside the Angel Administrations Affair on the evening of the bombing.”

Sylvester sat up. “I though

t the Angels said there was no surveillance video that survived?”

Jacks just gave him a look.

“Thank you, Jackson,” Sylvester said. He opened up the envelope and examined the black thumb drive. “But why are you doing this?”

“Because, after what you did for Maddy and me last year, I trust you. And I think it doesn’t matter who solves this case. As long as it gets solved. I’m not sure if there’s anything you can use. But you might see something we haven’t.” He took a deep breath. “My stepfather doesn’t know I’m here, like I said. I got a lot of this info from his laptop. He thinks it’s nice for me to have a . . . hobby, I guess.” Jacks’s voice was bitter for a moment. “Since I can’t protect anyone right now. But he sees it as just that, a hobby. He doesn’t understand that I’m looking for a purpose. Or something like that.”

Sylvester nodded silently, his respect for the young Angel increasing.

“I’m not even sure myself what it is. But not being able to save, not being able to fly, I feel so helpless – useless, I guess. Like someone who’s not supposed to be there any more. Now just a burden.” Jackson’s eyes grew dark and contemplative.

“I’m sure that’s not true, Jackson,” Sylvester offered.

Jackson didn’t respond. He looked around the apartment. At the printed-out articles. A map. The stacks of books around the living room. Sylvester’s obsessions.

“Detective. . .” Jacks began slowly. He motioned around. “Why do you do it?”

The detective’s face was serious. Almost gaunt.

“Mark mentioned something about your past when we saw each other last time. Was it from when you were an Angel? I know from what you told me last year that you made an unsanctioned save, and lost your wings. And I know” – a look of pain came across Jackson’s face – “what it feels like not to be able to fly. But what happened? Behind the rumours and the discrediting and losing your wings. What really happened?”