The Doc Justice Files - Three Card Monty part 5
by Direwolf

Chapter 5- "Cornered!"

The old brick warehouse on Pier 8 crouched in the foggy darkness like some sleeping animal. The spotlight that could illuminate the small sign for West Coast Freight was out and no light came through the grime-covered windows or from beneath the door. Justin, Go-on and Lucas walked up to the wooden door beside the larger, rolling door.

"Locked," Go-on announced after trying the knob.

"Lucas, can you hold this for me, please." Justin passed Lucas his small flashlight. With the light focused on the doorknob, Justin took a small leather case from his coat pocket. Inside the case were a number of thin steel probes.

Despite the light, Justin looked away from the lock as he worked the picks on the tumblers. Weasel Simpkins, the Cockney thief who taught him the art of confounding locks, insisted that it was touch and sound, not sight, that mattered when tickling a lock. So Justin practiced working locks blind. The light was just so Lucas and Go-on could see what he was doing. After only a few moments, the simple catch surrendered.

"Wish you had known how to do that when we were at school!" Gawaine commented as he shifted his black walking stick to his left hand to reach for the door. "Think of the fun we could have had. Not to mention how it would have helped improve my grades."

"Maybe hittin' the books as hard as you hit the sauce might've helped as well."

"You, sir, have no appreciation for the stress I was under! Trying to maintain a proper wardrobe while over seas was difficult enough, but I also had to contend with American tailors and fighting off hordes of debutants intent on capturing an English aristocrat for a husband! Tell him, Justin!"

Justin tuned the argument out since he was sure it wouldn't lead to anything of consequence. It never did. He pushed open the door and stepped into the dark warehouse.

The odor hit him even before he found the light switch. He'd smelled it before, blood, lots of it. As the lights blazed on, he spotted the two crumpled bodies on the worn timber floor. One of them was Jeff. He didn't recognize the other. They were both dead of gunshot wounds, their blood pooled on the black, tar soaked wooden beams.

"Looks like they won't be telling us much," Lucas said.

"Pity, Jeff seemed a nice enough chap."

"Well, I think this removes any lingering doubt about what sort of people we're dealing with. Let's see what's back in the office."

Justin led the way through the open door marked ‘private'. Go-on found the lamp on the cluttered desk and switched it on. A yellow cone of light sprang into existence, illuminating a trucking company's pin-up calendar that still showed last month's girl. Go-on swung the light to shine on the cabinets. The center set of cabinets hung open. Towards the back on the lower shelf was a cardboard box half the size of the brick filed crate. Lucas set down the crate and pulled it out.

"Know anyone named Lord Gawaine Paget?" He asked, before passing the box to the waiting Go-on.

"Oh, go-on!" the Englishman exclaimed as he slit open the packing tape. Inside the box were three bottled of some sort of liquor cushioned in shredded wood and a thick envelope sealed with a blob of red wax. Go-on snatched up the envelope, eyes suddenly intent. He examined the seal, and then broke it open. There were several sheets of paper inside, including what might be a map, from the brief glimpse Justin had of the sheets.

"Right-o!" Go-on said, slipping the envelope in his inner most coat pocket. "It's from Spiffy all right. Oh look! Chinese whisky! You can drink it or use it to strip paint!"

Two of the bottled vanished into the outer coat pockets. He held onto the third. "Anyone care for a shot of Dutch courage?"

"I'll pass, thank you," Justin said. "So we've got two cards over and still no pea."

"And we don't know what the pea is," Lucas said.

"No, but we can make a few guesses as to size and weight from the crate." Justin looked around the room. Along with the cabinets, there were a set of metal shelves, the desk and a well- worn swivel chair. The office was empty. "Check the rest of the cabinets."

Lucas popped open the shutters by simply pulling them open. Justin moved between the shelves. All of the boxes he found were too small and light to account for the crate's missing contents.

"Nothing," Lucas announced.

"That leaves..."

All three turned to the desk.

"The file drawer, it's the only one big enough," Lucas announced.

Once again, Justin employed his lock picks. The draw slid open. Inside was a stack of objects wrapped in rice paper that was secured with white twine. Justin took the first one out and pealed back the paper. Within was a weathered limestone tablet. Justin pulled away the rest of the paper and set the carved stone on the desk.

The tablet was slightly over two feet square and about two and a half inches thick. The pale gray stone had reddish veins running through it that had leaked a rust colored staining in broad patches across the stone. There was a carved figure protruding up from the center of the tablet, a demon headed man with snake like arms, seated amide what looked like stylized flames. Writing ran in twin columns down both sides of the tablet.

"Can you make it out?" Go-on asked.

"No, it's too badly weathered. But the writing looks like a very old form of Chinese. Interesting..."

Justin took another package and opened it. There was another tablet like the first though this time the central figure seemed some sort of fanged monkey man sitting on a rock.

"That makes sense," Justin said, as he counted out the rest of the packages without opening them. "And yes, there are seven total."

"Going to tell us lesser mortals what this all is or going to keep it to yourself?"

"Oh, right," Justin said. "There is an old Buddhist legend of the seven virtuous demons, creatures that were won over by the Buddha when he was still Siddhartha. The story goes that the seven were so impressed by his calm wisdom, they converted to Buddhism on the spot and became his guardians. A lot of very old Buddhist tombs used images of the seven virtuous demons as guards."

"But why would the Japanese army want to take a set of tomb decorations?"

"Well, as plunder maybe, but that doesn't seem right. There is something else to this, I'm sure." Justin studied the snake-armed demon as if it could tell him the answer to the puzzle. But the stone was silent.

"I'll bet Fu Lee can help with 'em." Lucas said.

"And I'll bet he already has a place picked out in the library for them. This crate is the perfect size to carry ‘em in." Go-on began removing bricks.

They quickly packed the tablets into the wooden crate and secured the lid. Once again, Lucas took charge of the box. They walked across the silent warehouse and past the two bodies.

Go-on reached for the door and pushed. As it swung open, Justin heard a faint metallic click from out side. His rational mind said it was nothing, but some deeper instinct honed as a child roaming the wilderness with his uncle, insisted it was much more. They were in danger.

"Down!" Justin snapped, pushing both Go-on and Lucas away from the door. He nearly wasn't fast enough to get out of the way himself. A storm of bullets tore through the wooden door at chest level, scattering splinters even as Justin hurled himself to the side. More fire holed the rolling doors as well.

"I say, I think it's those fellows back for their box!" Go-on exclaimed. He was pressed down behind the brick wall, gun in hand. Lucas had found cover as well.

Justin rolled to a position near the open doorway. The door was gone, chewed to fragments. He wasn't sure when it happened, but his gun was in his hand. He hazarded a quick glance out the door. Bullets chased him back as brick chips showered him. Justin fired two quick shots out the door just to keep the attackers back. There was another rip of fire from the Tommy gun through the doorway. The bullets scattered off down the warehouse, chewing splinters off shelves and smacking into brick walls. Justin fired again through the door. Then a sudden silence fell.

"Collins," a voice shouted from outside. "All I want is my property. Give me the tablets and you and your friends are free to go."

"Why are they so important?" Justin called. He figured there was no point denying he'd found them. A bluff like that wasn't likely to work.

"That isn't any concern of yours. Give them to me and I'm gone. Otherwise I'll take them and kill you all. I don't think I need to demonstrate my willingness to kill for them."

"No, you proved that. I could destroy them."

"Do that and you are of no use to me."

What's to keep me from sitting tight and waiting for the police to come?"

There was silence for a moment. Justin turned to Go-on. "Look for a back way out!"

Go-on scuttled back into the darkness.

"If you don't give them to me in two minutes, I'll fire the building. I'd rather loose the tablets then leave them with you."

Time trickled by.

"One minute, Collins"

Gawaine came back and shook his head. "No luck, old boy, there's one back there but it's welded tight. One would think they were up to something illegal here."

"We going to charge ‘em?" Lucas asked.

"No, " Justin said decisively, "it's not worth the risk."

He shoved the gun in his pocket. "I'm pushing out the crate!"

Go-on gave him a pained look but Lucas nodded in agreement. Justin muscled the box into the doorway and gave it a good hard shove. The box slide across the fog dampened wharf.

Warwick watched the crate emerge with a sense of elation. Finally, things were working out. "Elliot, get the box. We'll cover you."

Elliot scrambled forward, grabbed the crate and dragged it back.

"Open it!"

When the lid was pried back, Warwick glanced in. The rice paper packages were neatly stacked inside. Two of them were torn open, revealing the carved marble tiles. He shuddered with relief.

"Load it in the car!" he ordered, then considered what to do next. He could just leave and deliver the shipment. But that might not be the best course of action. The Colonel said Justin Collins might be considered for induction with in the Imperium someday. If that ever happened, Warwick was sure this young industrialist would soon outrank him. That could be fatal if Collins was the sort to carry a grudge. The risk was too great.

"Besides," he rationalized to himself, "there is a lot of evidence in the warehouse. Who knew what sort of records might be on file? It's not just me at risk; it's the Grand Plan. No one is more important that that."

"Sergeant Jones, on my mark..."

Justin waited to see what would happen after ducking back around the corner. He didn't trust the gunman out there, but giving up the box seemed to offer the best chance that they would walk away, and in any case, bought them more time. The only question was would the assailants play straight? He heard a mummer of voices, the sound of running feet and dragging wood, then silence. Then his question was answered. The Tommy gun hammered more bullets through the doorway.

"Get back!" Justin shouted and he pulled as far in from the door as possible without giving up the vantage point. Go-on and Lucas scrambled back.

"If we fall back, we may be able to make a stand in the inner office!" Go-on shouted over the roar of gunfire.

"Good idea," Justin shouted back, "let me give them something to think about and I'll follow!"

Lucas and Go-on ducked into the small office. Justin waited. Once the submachine gun stopped, he planned to empty his gun out the door then head after Lucas and Go-on while he reloaded. Sooner or latter, the police had to show up.

It was a good plan. But the attackers had other ideas.

As the crackle of gunfire ended, Justin rolled into position to fire. He saw one man halfway between the parked roadster and the warehouse, whirling something in the air. Justin fired just as the man threw the object. The man crumpled, clutching at his leg, but his missile flew straight, trailing a streak of fire. Justin saw it was a gasoline can with two sputtering road flairs attached. The jury-rigged bomb sailed through the doorway.

Justin had just enough time to cover his head with his arms before the can hit.

It split open on impact and the gasoline ignited with a roar. The flames engulfed the leaking can that promptly detonated, scattering an arc of flaming liquid through the warehouse. The wooden shelves caught first, then the tar-soaked timbers of the dock itself began to burn, adding thick oily smoke to the inferno. Stunned by the fury of the attack, Justin squinted into the fire as his leather coat smoldered. Lucas and Go-on were trapped in the inner office behind a curtain of flames.

To be continued...