Spring-Heeled Jack by Wyll Andersen

his hands. “Let’s sit down first. The, we’ll talk business.
You look exhausted, lad.”
    The two parked themselves on a bench
outside the gates. For a moment, Atticus’ mind was lost as he
stared out across the horizon. The sun was just barely peeking over
the skyline and the city lights were just starting to flicker on.
City of Lights was definitely the best name for Las
Vegas.
    “ So lad, what was it you
were saying?”
    Atticus lowered his head and shuffled
his feet. “Dr. Nelson calls you a dog of Zebulon.”
    “ Ah, yes,” McCloud said
laughing. “Not my biggest fan, is he?”
    “ But why? What’ve you done
wrong? Doesn’t he understand that you’re trying to
help?”
    McCloud shrugged. “Can’t say I know.
The man is obviously very distressed.”
    “ How can he be
so-”
    “ Foolish? Arrogant?
Rude?
    Atticus looked over at the detective.
His smile was still stuck to his face and his piercing emerald eyes
stared right at him. He was so intimidating; his eyes so haunting.
It was almost as if they gleamed in the dark. How terrifying,
Atticus thought, to see McCloud staring you down in the
darkness.
    “ Yeah, arrogant,” he
said.
    “ Ha! I knew it would be one
of those! You see, you learn to predict people’s words when you do
this job as long as I, lad.”
    Atticus smiled. “Detective, I think I
may have something on this case.”
    He’d hoped that McCloud would be
ecstatic to hear what he had to say, but he was wrong. Instead,
McCloud shook his head and said, “Now lad, I understand you’re
excited to help, but let’s just relax for a moment.”
    “ But, detective!”
    No butts! I know you want to help. I
understand your frustration, but you’ve had a long day. We both
have, and now we just need to kick back, relax, and put our minds
at ease.”
    “ But, what if we miss
something,” Atticus asked. “What if we’re too slow?”
    “ Never worry lad. I don’t
overlook things,” McCloud said confidently. “If I did, I wouldn’t
be the head investigator for the world’s biggest mechatronics
corporation. I’ll see right through any tricks.”
    There was a moment of silence.
Detective McCloud was right. Atticus was too anxious to find Mike’s
killer. He was so quick to point his finger at Varnum; he didn’t
look in any other direction. Mike’s parents? That could just be
Atticus’ jumping to conclusions. But, all that considered, there
was still one question that bugged him.
    “ If Dr. Nelson is so against
Zebulon,” he said, “why would they send their son here?”
    The detective looked up to the sky and
shrugged. "It was probably the boy’s idea. It seems that his father
thinks Zebulon is just some money gobbling monopoly. Which, I
guess, to an outsider is what we look like. Without a doubt,
Zebulon is the most influential and renowned mechatronics and
science corporation in the world, but it certainly isn’t a
monopoly. Nor is it a money gobbler. Zebulon does all it can to
take care of the world around it. Its employees are well taken care
of and it funds dozens of charitable services.”
    McCloud smiled and patted Atticus on
the back. “Now, I’m a bit biased in my views, though. You see lad,
I owe everything to Zebulon.”
    “ What do you
mean?”
    McCloud smiled and said, “Eighteen
years ago, back around the dawn of the second world war, my family
moved from our home in Scotland to America in hopes of a better
future away from all the terror.
    “ I was already a member of
the police force back home, so when we arrived in the ports of New
York City, I set my eyes on becoming a member of the American
police. But, I didn’t have much luck. Here was some Scot going
around with no history, no connection, and no promise. All seemed
hopeless until I met a man named Peter Pipes over a pint of
Guinness. Little did I know at the time, but Pipes was Zebulon’s
chief of security.”
    “ Why was the head of Zebulon
security in New York,” Atticus asked.
    McCloud was silent for