Chapter 2

Red light painted everything the color of old blood. Ellis held Toby like a shield. The boy’s toes curled against the wet concrete. I could see the hospital bracelet peeking from his sleeve, plastic and faded. I could see the silver phoenix ring on Ellis’s pinky, identical to the engraving on the case.

“You’ve got five seconds,” I said. “Then I put steel through your heart.”

“You used to be smarter, Marcus.” Ellis’s voice was calm, but sweat shone at his temple. “This boy is bait. The Russians sent him. Or the feds. He stole that case from a pawnshop. He doesn’t know Danielle.”

“She’s alive,” Toby said. His voice was thin but steady. “She told me to find you. She said you’d know the song. She said you’d know the key.”

“Shut up,” Ellis snapped.

I took a step closer. The sword point dimpled Ellis’s waistcoat. “How do you know his name?”

Ellis’s jaw tightened. “Lucky guess.”

“Tobias,” I said. “That’s not a Detroit street name. That’s not a guess.”

Toby twisted in Ellis’s grip. “He calls me that when he’s angry. He calls my mother ‘Danny’ when he thinks I’m asleep. He keeps her under the casino. B-3. The boiler room.”

Ellis’s knife hand trembled. For one second, his mask slipped. I saw the boy he’d been when we were kids, the foster brother who taught me to pick locks, the man who had stood beside me when I got shot. Then the mask returned.

“You’re going to let me walk out,” Ellis said. “Or I open his throat and you spend the rest of your life wondering if I told you the truth.”

My men were fanned out along the walls, guns drawn. Vance had a clear shot, but Toby was too close. One twitch and the boy was dead.

“Let him go,” I said. “We’ll talk. No guns. No blades. Just us.”

“You think I’m stupid?” Ellis backed toward the steam tunnel on the east wall. “Drop the sword.”

I didn’t.

“Drop it,” Ellis hissed. The blade nicked Toby’s skin again. The boy didn’t cry out. He stared at me with Danielle’s eyes.

I lowered the cane sword an inch. Not enough.

Ellis reached behind him with his free hand and yanked a valve wheel. A pipe burst. Scalding steam screamed into the room. The red light vanished behind white fog. I heard Toby shout. I heard Ellis grunt. I lunged, but my cane hit metal. My shoulder slammed into the chain-link. When the steam cleared, the tunnel grate was open. Ellis was gone. Toby was gone.

I stood there, breathing hard, sword still in my hand. The cigarette case had fallen to the floor. I picked it up. The lullaby cylinder was bent, but the silver was warm. The key was still in my pocket.

Vance ran up. “Boss, we can seal the plant. He can’t get far.”

“He’s not trying to get far,” I said. “He’s going back to her.”

I turned the key over in my palm. B-3. I had seen that stamp before, on the maintenance master keys for the Phoenix Casino. The old boiler room in the sub-basement. Ellis had told me that level flooded years ago. He had told me it was sealed. He had told me the search was over.

“Lock down the Packard,” I said. “Every exit. I want Ellis’s car, his phone, his apartment. And I want the Phoenix Casino sealed in ten minutes.”

Vance hesitated. “The casino? Boss, it’s three in the morning. We got guests.”

“I don’t care if the mayor is in there,” I said. “Nobody leaves.”

I walked out of the boiler room with the case in one hand and the sword in the other. The rain hit my face. The key in my pocket felt like a lit match.

Danielle was alive. She was under my own casino. And the man I trusted most had put her there.