Chapter 19 #2
Castle eyes him, then nods and turns a dial on his watch as he says, “That alarm was someone at the door, I take it?” Castle then gives Dorman a pointed look. “It’s time you get back to work, nephew.”
“Fine,” Dorman grumbles and pushes against the table as he stands to go.
“Dee? You can also take your leave. I believe we’re finished for now.”
Dee nods and quickly tidies the table, then joins Dorman, so I begin to get up too.
“Not you, Hatter.” His inflection and deliberate drawing out of every word makes my hair stand on end. “I’d like to get to know you better.”
There’s a hint of Lowcountry accent that I hadn’t noticed before. I can’t tell if it’s because the words harbor emotion, something that happens when my family’s accents get thicker, of if it’s something else, like he’s been suppressing it this whole time until now for some reason.
When Dee shuts the door behind a grumbling Dorman, the room is silent, save for the ticking of the clock, before Castle says, “And here I thought you didn’t know how to play Blackjack.”
I shrug. “I never said that.”
Castle’s shrewd eyes narrow. “You’re a curious one, aren’t you, Hatter?” Then he checks the time on his watch, pressing the side for it to glow to life, then looks past me.
“Open comms and security.”
Well I thought he was looking at the time, but it was almost like he was speaking into it instead—
Something moves behind me, and I hear the whir of gears and I turn around quickly to see the three Chicken Man paintings moving apart like a barn door.
What the fuck?
Behind the paintings of dancing chickens on particle board, a wall of screens appear, and it takes all my willpower for my jaw not to drop. Sixteen monitors cover the area in a four-by-four grid, each screen split into four smaller feeds… so sixty-four squares. Honestly, it looks like…
“Do you like my chessboard, Hatter?” Castle chuckles quietly, flicking his gaze at me.
“It’s impressive,” I admit. Jesus Christ, Dash would have a field day.
“It is, isn’t it?” He hums. “Sit back and watch how we play.”
Some screens are of security footage that I’d expect in an establishment like this with what I’ve seen.
The rest though, are news channels, some I’m familiar with and some I’d guess are in a different country.
One in the top left has an ever present band of numbers and abbreviations—stocks I’m guessing, and graphs.
Each screen changes periodically, showing a room at the club, a place that seems to be at Wander Isle, one weirdly enough of another security room inside a cozy windowless apartment, or a different news outlet, or a black screen with lists, graphs, and tickers.
Whatever my expression does show, though, Castle finds amusing, and his mustache twitches to an almost genuine smile.
Why the hell is he showing me this?
Is this asshole about to murder me? Fuck, I will be so pissed if I’m about to get murdered.
“Jack of diamonds,” Castle says, and one of the screens flares bigger, taking up all the screens in the middle and leaving only the outer rim of screens. Two people are in a room with a faint red glow, a guy and a woman dressed in all red who straddles his lap.
“Enhance audio,” Castle murmurs, and the audio in the room fills with the sound of a man who I can only describe as on the verge of coming in his pants.
“Faster,” he huffs. “Fuck yeah. I needed this after today.”
What the hell?
The picture comes in better view, and I realize it’s… here. A booth downstairs actually, with its red glow highlighting the cherry-red headed dancer straddling a patron wearing a pig mask, a suit, and who has a receding blond hairline.
“Aww what happened today to get you all worked up more than usual, huh? Normally all you need is a dance,” the dancer huffs like she’s working out and it’s then I see she’s not just sitting on his lap, she’s working the guy wearing the pig mask’s dick.
Beside me, X swipes his nose with this thumb, sniffing and watches the video through his periphery.
“I’m not worked up,” the guy getting jerked off insists, and the camera is so close, I can see him smiling. “I’m celebrating.”
“Oh? Does it have anything to do with that… oh what did you call it again? The ‘daw?’”
“The DOW,” he corrects with a condescending chuckle. “Jesus Christ, all of you are so dumb and worried about swindling men out of their money that you haven’t learned simple finance—ah! Fuck, careful!”
“Oops!” The cherry-headed dancer gasps. “I’m so sorry. I just got so into it.” She puts on a pouting voice. “Forgive me?”
“Yeah, yeah, just… careful with the jewels, Duchess. They’re sensitive.”
“Of course, sweetie. Now… I really wanna know more about those finances. Can you explain it to me. No one’s ever been able to tell me why any of it matters, but I bet you could.”
His smile is back and he folds his hands behind his head. “Sure, but slower. Draw it out while I teach you.”
The patron’s eyes are closed, and the dancer, Duchess, glares up at the camera and mouths something I don’t have the time to read, but X chuckles, cutting off in a rough cough as soon as the patron begins to speak.
“So it’s like what I did today. There was this very important person. Well he tipped me off that another even more important person is buying stock in this little-known company. We’ll call it PBT.”
“Jabber…” Castle says quietly, pulling out his phone and typing something in. Jabber’s already doing the same without more prompting.
“PBT?” Duchess laughs lightly, then says in what I imagine is her ditsiest voice, “Sounds like a clothing company.”
He laughs. “If by clothing company, you mean lab coats and gas masks, you’d be on the money.”
“Don’t think I’ll be seeing those at fashion week. Why’s everyone so interested in them anyway? Sounds boring.”
“No idea. But three senators, a defense contractor, and two hedge funds all bought over the last couple weeks, and no one else. It’s a small firm, so I doubt people have even heard about it yet.”
“Shit,” Castle mutters, then slides his gaze to Jabber. “We’ll have to use multiple accounts. Start with the ones here. Low numbers.”
Jabber’s eyes narrow slightly, and Castle nods. “That one too. We need him cut in besides what we’ve already got on him. I’ll check the other markets too.”
He nods, then continues to type furiously on his phone.
Castle looks to the wall again and talks to whatever computer is listening to him in the room. “Split Screen 1 with center screen.”
The screen at the top left turns into a side-by-side view with the center screen so that Duchess and the patron are on the right and the stock ticker that looks different than the one my father usually watches is on the left.
“Alt mode.” He orders, and the screen changes to something completely different. Instead of three to four letters for everything, there’s actual words, sentences. They’re going by too quickly for me to read, but it looks more like a betting site than a stock exchange now.
His eyes narrow until he stills and points slightly with his untouched drink. “There… PBTX awarded a Defense contract before December with the public announcement coming next week.” He huffs. “With that kind of support? Easy. Buy the floor, Jabber, it won’t be this cheap ever again.”
Jabber nods and continues typing. Then pulls out another phone and seems to compare both, typing on each one.
“X,” Castle begins. “Did Heathers opt for Smoke this time?”
X puts his fingers to the clear bud in his ear then presses the button on his watch—similar to how Castle did earlier, although X’s watch looks much more modern.
“Did he Smoke, Duchy?”
On the screen, Duchess glances up and shakes her head.
Wait… holy shit is all this in real time? X mentioned their systems can’t be rewound or watched backward, but I didn’t realize that meant Castle watched them in real time.
Fuck, were there cameras in the Flower Room?
My cheeks burn at the thought, but I keep my mouth shut as I take in everything that’s happening around me.
X’s gaze flicks to Castle before he asks, “Would he want to?”
Duchess repeats the gesture before purring in the man’s ear. “Nope…” then she adds. “You’re right. I definitely haven’t heard of it. Still sounds a little boring. But maybe you can make it interesting.”
“Nah, enough talk, baby. I want to see my cum on those big fat titti—ah! Shit, fuck.” The guy jerks in Duchess’s grip, ecstasy and confusion on his face.
“Make note that when the defense contract comes to fruition,” Castle begins like he’s rattling off a grocery list to Jabber, “we’ll need to adjust our predictions on China’s role in the conflicts involving the Russians and North Africa and invest in foreign companies focused on longevity.
The fight is for immortality not land, just none of the people on the ground know that yet.
” He huffs derisively. “The public is too busy watching the magician’s moving hand, convinced the elite are dying to go to space, when the hidden hand is killing for the afterlife. Time, not space.”
Jabber merely nods, while my mind reels.
What the fuck is he talking about?
My mind is whirring so fast, I feel like I’m in a fog as Castle continues to talk to Jabber and they both seem hooked to the screens or their phones.
All I know is I’ve got to protect Lucy. She didn’t give me much in the Flower Room, but I don’t want Castle to ever get his hands on that footage, not of her feeling good, and not of her saying anything about her family.
With Castle busy, I lean closer to X, pretending like I’m stretching and mutter under my breath.
“The Flower Room footage…”
“Already deleted,” he answers even lower. “I did it from my phone the moment I closed the Flower Room door.”
Thank fuck.
On the screen, Heathers finishes convulsing in pleasure, Duchess slides her hand down his suit, and it takes me a second to realize she’s wiping it off.
“Ugh I hate to do this, because our time is so special, but that has to be an extra hundred. I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules.”