Don't Be a Hero: A Superhero Novel

7: In Another's Shoes

The Blind Man turned his ear to his wife. “Thank you.”

Hine-nui-te-pō floated from the room, leaving them alone. When she was gone, Niobe pulled the small package from her pocket and laid it at the Blind Man’s feet. It was filled with twenty dollar notes, but it was only part of the koha. The rest would come later.

The Blind Man didn’t reach for the package, but he gave a small nod and raised his head. “You are seeking something. Someone.”

The Carpenter nodded even though the Blind Man wouldn’t see it. “An American boy. He’s got himself lost. His uncle thinks he was taken.”

Niobe reached into another pocket and pulled out the small plastic bag. Inside was the photograph Frank Julius had given her and the small brown hair she’d pulled from the watch. She placed them on the floor alongside the bag of cash. That got the Blind Man’s attention. His milky gaze shifted slowly down to the photo, and he cocked his head to the side as if listening to it.

“Hmmm,” he said after a few moments. “The trail is faded. You were slow.”

Niobe moistened her lips. Smug bastard. “Can you still read him?”

“Yes,” the Blind Man said. “Barely. But the price is high.”

She met the Carpenter’s eyes. His mouth was in a tight line; no grins from him now. She could make out the wrinkles at the edge of his eyes where the mask didn’t quite cover. He bowed his head. “What’s the damage?”

The Blind Man took a long pull on his beer, smacked his lips, and smiled. “Two years of childhood.”

She balked. Two years? He’d never taken more than a few months from Solomon before. The bastard was insane. He had to be pulling their legs. But his face was fixed in that same half-smile that betrayed nothing.

Solomon seemed to be having trouble speaking. His eyes were bugging, and she could see the wheels turning. Her own mind was doing the same thing.

“Carpenter,” she said, “forget it. It’s too much. We’ll find another way.”

He blinked a few times, then shook his head. “No. I’ll do it. We’re blind here, Spook.” He glanced at the Blind Man. “No offense.”

“Carpenter….”

“You know we have to. The kid’s been gone for what, two days now? We don’t have time to do this the slow way. There hasn’t been a ransom, there hasn’t been anything. That’s not good.”

He was right. The longer they took to find him, the more likely they’d find a corpse. It wasn’t just the cash driving her, not just the chance to escape this hell. She wanted to save him. She needed to save him. He’s only thirteen.

But the price…. “It’s too expensive,” she said. “It’s not the old days. You can’t take everything on yourself.”

“Yeah?” he said. “You took on the coppers this morning, didn’t you?”

“That’s different and you know it. This is a job. You’ve got kids to look after.”

“So has Frank Julius.” He pointed at the smiling boy in the picture. “The kid needs our help. Where else is he going to get it?

Bloody hell. Solomon was so determined to be a superhero. There was no point trying to change his mind. She sighed and looked away. Goddamn hero.

The Blind Man’s smile hadn’t shifted. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I wasn’t clear. I already have all I want from you, Solomon Doherty.”