"Um… Jack, right?"
Jack nodded. He'd gone over all the possible approaches and had decided on balls-to-the-wall directness.
"We've got a problem."
What little openness there'd been in O'Day's expression shut down like the security shutter on his store.
"Really?"
"Yeah. The guy who stole the Gaijin Masamune is dead, his throat slit by the katana in question."
Jack didn't know that for sure, but figured it was a safe assumption. O'Day's sudden pallor went a long way toward confirming that.
"Wh-what do you mean? How do you know?"
"I arrived at his place shortly after it happened."
O'Day quickly regained his composure. He gave Jack a narrowed-eyed stare.
"How do I know you didn't do it?"
"Because you got caught on the lobby camera entering and leaving around the time of death."
O'Day blanched. "Bullshit!"
Which was right on the money. Jack hadn't even seen the lobby, and had no idea whether it was fitted with a security cam or not. But he had a feeling O'Day wasn't anywhere near as aware of them as Jack was, so it was a good bet he'd never noticed either way.
Jack shrugged. "After I found the body I broke into the security office and ran a quick review off the hard drive there." He smiled. "It's not much more than a glorified TiVo, y'know. Watched you walk in empty-handed, then a little later, not so empty-handed—a long, wrapped object under your arm."
No way would O'Day walk out carrying a sword for all to see. He'd have it wrapped in something—a towel, a sheet, a rug. Jack had no idea which, so he'd kept it vague.
O'Day looked weak. Sweat beaded his face.
"Hey," Jack said in his most reassuring tone. "Told you: I'm not a cop. Too bad about Gerrish. Never knew the guy, and there are probably worse ways to die, but that's between you and him. What's between you and me is the matter of the sword. I'm ready to do you a favor and take it off your hands for a nice price."
O'Day shook his head as if to clear it. "Favor?"
"Sure. Once the cops see that tape, you'll become what they like to call 'a person of interest.' When they find you—and that's when, not if—they'll learn about your trade and your collection, and when that happens you'll graduate from person of interest to suspect numero uno."
"And selling to you's gonna help?"
"Sure. You've got a murder weapon hidden away. Gerrish may have shown it to a friend. It's pretty distinctive, and if they find it on you, you're cooked. But sell it to my guy and he'll sneak it back overseas where he came from. You'll have big bucks, he'll have his sword back, and I'll have my fee. Win-win-win."
O'Day chewed his lower lip in silence for a moment, then gave a quick nod.
"For the record, I found Gerrish dead, just like you did. The katana was lying next to him. Since he wouldn't be having any more use for it, I decided to give it a good home."
Riiiight.
"Like I said: Never knew Gerrish. What happened between you and him stays between you and him. Like Vegas. What do you want for the blade?"
"A hundred grand."
Jack blinked. "Whoa. I don't know if he wants it back that badly."
O'Day gave him a sour smile. "Well, we'll never know if we don't ask, will we."
"I getcha. Where is it?"
He didn't want to be responsible for involving his customer in some lowrent scam.
"In the back. Wanna see?"
"I think I should, don't you."
He shrugged. "I guess so." He started toward the front of the store. "But first…" He went to the door and pulled down the security shutter, closing them in behind a wall of corrugated steel. "Like a fishbowl in here. Can't be too careful."
"We could've just gone back there."
"Don't want anyone wandering in."
Jack felt an uneasy tingle in his gut. Something askew here.
As he watched O'Day stride toward the back room, he wondered if he'd bought the security cam bit. If he hadn't, then Jack was the only person who could connect O'Day to Gerrish, and it would be in O'Day's best interest to eliminate that link.
He pulled his Glock from the small of his back and turned sideways, shielding it behind his right thigh.
O'Day returned balancing the katana on his palms. The blade was riddled with pocks and holes, just like in the photos. Jack noticed that he'd done some fixing up.
"You put a handle on it."
"It's called a tsuka. Yeah. I spent half the night getting the wrapping right." He pushed the sword closer to Jack. "Wanna closer look?"
"That's okay."
A little farther out. "C'mon."
"I can see what I need to see. Okay, I'll tell my guy—"
O'Day was fast for his age. In a flash he had the katana raised in a one handed grip and swinging toward Jack's head. With a choice between getting off a shot or being scalped, he ducked and raised the Glock to ward off the blade. It struck the pistol with almost enough force to knock it free. As it was, the blow pulled his finger against the trigger and fired off the chambered round. Jack rolled and pulled the trigger again.
Nothing.
He glanced at the Glock and saw only half a pistol. The blade had sliced through the plastic frame just forward of the trigger guard, then through the spring and guide rod and—hell, it had cut through the barrel as well. The slide had been knocked free, exposing the chamber. He could see the next round waiting to be chambered.
What the—?