Caleth didn’t understand. “What? All I did was call him a scrape?”
Kiver bristled at the slur and snapped his fingers. A pair of big servers appeared behind him. One, a large maero with thick threaded muscles, the other a grim bufo’anur. I didn’t expect to see one of the anur’s big cousins outside of the high desert, and certainly not in the house of one of Lovat’s elevated. They were fierce warriors and did not work cheap.
“Yes, sir?” the two asked, almost in unison.
“Mister Caleth is done for the evening. Please take his drink and see him out.”
“Ah, Kiv. I’m just celebrating. Just wanted to let off a little steam. I was named chairman of Styer & Sons’ board yesterday.”
Kiver blinked, his face draining of emotion. It was gone in a flash. Replaced by the impassive graciousness that he had worn much of the night.
“His drink,” he said to the servers.
Caleth’s expression darkened. His eyes narrowed, his mouth turned to a scowl. For a moment the drunk maero didn’t look willing to hand over his tumbler, but under Kiver’s cool stare he capitulated. He handed his drink to the maero and looked up at the big toad-like creature who remained. His bulbous eyes blinked once, and his anurian expression turned dour. After a breath, Caleth shrank.
“Go get yourself some coffee,” ordered Kiver, all smiles now. “Sober up.” Then he turned to the two servers. “Keep him away from the liquor.”
Caleth frowned and then drifted off, followed closely by the pair.
“I’m sorry about all of that,” Kiver said.
“Wouldn’t be a party if Caleth didn’t make a fool of himself,” Dirch said. “He just gets out of control. Easier to talk about the leagues as opposed to everything else going on. We’re all just ‘blowing off steam’ these days.”
“Yes. Well, I’d expect one of you to chastise him sooner.”
They all shrank at Kiver’s words.
“If you all will excuse me,” said Dr. Adderley. “I have a telegram to send. It might be the holidays but the practice never slows down and I need to check up on some of my patients.”
“I have a teleprinter in my office. Just down the hall. You’re welcome to it.”
“Th–thank you,” Dr. Adderley stammered. A look of surprise on his face. He tilted his head at the maero. “I appreciate that, Kiver. Happy Auseil.”
“And you, Frank. Make sure you get some of the fen guo this evening. I acquired some of the ingredients earlier this year especially for this occasion. I know it’s a favorite.”
The doctor smiled and nodded, backing away from the group. “I will. Thank you. It was nice to meet you, Mister Bell.”
Kiver turned to those that remained. “Janus, Cora, Joyce, Charlie, if you’ll excuse Mister Bell and me, we have some business to discuss. I hope you don’t mind.”
The four of them nodded, and Kiver guided me away, towards an unoccupied corner of his flat. I looked around for Hagen and saw my dimanian friend stuffing his face. He looked up from a plate of dumplings and raised an eyebrow. I nodded, calling him over.
“I’m sorry it took so long for me to pull away from my guests. Auseil is a busy time for me. Lots of hands to shake, and frankly, I’m surprised you’re here.”
“Yeah? Well... I gave it some thought. You were very convincing,” I said. I hoped he’d forget our last discussion.
It seemed to work. His eyes narrowed as we walked and frowned in confusion. “Well, you certainly have a funny way of showing it. I thought you were leaving me high and dry by sending another of your crew.”
“Hagen is good people. I trust his expertise in these matters.”
“Hagen?”
“My bookish friend over there.” I pointed.
“No, I don’t mean your dimanian friend,” he said.
I blinked.
The crowds around us thinned as we passed into the corner where Kiver was leading me.
“Ah, here we go.”
There was someone standing in the corner looking out over the view of Level Nine. Human. A woman. On the shorter side. Her dark brown hair was curled and swept into a neat pile on her head, a silky blouse draped low on the back, exposing dark smooth skin. A tight skirt clung to a pair of muscular thighs. One of the large hoods now in fashion among elevated citizens was elegantly slung over her shoulders. Tight gilded gloves and leather-laced ankle boots completed the outfit.
“Hannah?” I said as she turned, my eyes wide. She looked as surprised to see me as I did her.
“Boss?” she asked, at once drawing her shoulders up. She blushed, a mix of confusion and embarrassment crossing her features. Her dark makeup was perfectly applied. I had to admit, she was one of the more stylishly dressed of the attendees.
Hagen walked up and seemed as confused as I was. “Hannah?”
A weird mix of emotions brewed in my chest. I was angry she had tried to snipe the job, but I also admired the moxie. She was obviously more tenacious than I’d thought.
“You look lovely,” Hagen said, swallowing a mouthful of dumpling and extending a hand. Hannah let him take it and kiss it lightly, but her eyes didn’t leave mine.
“Sorry about the confusion,” I said, recovering and turning to look at Kiver. “Just some miscommunication on our part.”
“It’s all right. I’m just glad you’re all here. This is a better showing than LPD made. Honestly, when I left I thought I was lost. I was at my wits’ end.”
“So, you’ve met Hannah. Let me introduce Hagen Dubois, occult and religious expert.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kiver said, shaking Hagen’s hand.
Hagen adjusted his glasses. “I’d like to take a look at the scene, if you don’t mind. See if I can’t get to translating the message.”
“I trust Mister Bell has filled you in on all the details.”
Hagen nodded.
“I moved out of that flat after it all happened, but the Commoriom’s not far. Follow me.”
The lift opened onto a cold and dark apartment that occupied the thirty-sixth floor of the Commoriom. The lights were off, and the heat had been turned down. Cold leaked into the place through the massive walls of windows.
The space had an odd feel to it. It hadn’t been cleaned, and the carpets hadn’t been vacuumed. Square footprints from the heavy but simple maero furniture could still be seen in the thick carpeting.
The four of us entered the flat, lights in hand. The dull yellow glow of the lanterns cast long shadows against the blank walls.
Kiver shivered. “I haven’t been here in weeks.”
His voice echoed off the walls. It was fascinating that no matter how small the space, all empty rooms still sound the same. The echoes might grow larger but the emptiness is no less heavy.
“Show us the room,” I said, holding my lantern high.
Kiver and Hagen took the lead, moving through the large open area toward the far side of the building. Hannah and I followed behind. Close but out of earshot so we could talk.
“I thought you turned him down,” she hissed at me.
“I did,” I said.
“So?”
I scratched my beard and looked at her from the corner of my eye. Argentum’s threat, that’s what happened. I considered telling her but then thought better of it. Better to keep my cards close to my chest on this one. “Something came up. I need the money.”
“Something came up?” she said. “You could have told me.”
I smiled weakly. “But then I wouldn’t have seen you in a dress.”
She frowned, but not unkindly. “Oh come on. If I was on your other side, I’d knock the shit out of you for saying that.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re on my left,” I said with a smile.
Silence fell between us.
“Sorry,” I said after we rounded a corner and made our way down a small hall. Hagen and Kiver were well ahead of us now and we could talk with less of a hush. “I did want you here. Something came up and I decided to
take the job. I should have contacted you. I’m sorry.”
Hannah paused, noticing the edge in my voice. “What’s going on, Waldo?”
“I got it handled,” I said, trying to move the conversation forward. “As long as Kiver is good on his payment we’ll cut this three ways.”
“Sounds good to me.”
We plodded along through the empty space.
“Hagen’s not wrong though,” I said.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“You do look good.”
I smiled and Hannah rolled her eyes. A wooden hand slapped my shoulder.
EIGHT
IT WAS WHAT I HAD EXPECTED. A bloody stain had been left where the kresh had fallen. Its green blood had stained the floor of the closet leaving a faint outline of its stocky body. The walls and cabinets were covered with letters. Strange shapes rose around us, twisted jagged lines all emanating from the massive stain on the floor. It didn’t matter how many times I had seen it written out, Aklo always chilled me.
I slid under the police tape and stepped inside the closet, careful not to tread on the blood. The stains were long dry, the bright green blood had darkened as it dried to the color of the ocean. A deep soulless green.
“By the Firsts...” Hagen swore, his words trailing off.
“He was drained,” said Hannah.
I turned and looked at Kiver. The maero’s jaw was clenched, his eyes wide as he stared at the spot on the floor where the kresh had lain. The security detail that had been standing outside the flat leaned against the wall behind him, looking bored. Two women, maero and human, both in dark generic suits.
“This hasn’t gotten any easier,” Kiver said in a melancholic tone. “Hokioi worked for me for ages. I liked him, he was a hard worker. I like all my employees. To know something so violent could happen to a member of my household—”
I interrupted. “You said one of the housekeepers found him?”
I felt out of my element. It had been Samantha and Hagen who helped us pin Black, and Methow had been significantly more straightforward. I had no idea how to investigate a murder. I imagined Argentum standing in a corner, his shoulders shaking in that silent chuckle. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to shake the looming black cloud. I tried to remember what I had seen on the cop serials, how the lantern-jawed detectives had gone about their questioning.
My eyes opened as Kiver spoke. “Yes. Spratt—he’s an old human fellow. Was badly shaken after he found the body. I gave him a few days off.”
I turned to Hagen and gestured to the walls. “Can you read it?”
Hagen hummed and studied the walls, spinning slowly in place like a dancer in a music box. His eyes squinted through his spectacles at the writing.
“Actually, yes. It’s crude, given the writing instrument and the, er, ink but it’s simple enough. If anything, it’s too simple. Almost childlike. Whoever wrote this had a limited understanding of the language.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, Aklo is complex. Tense and tone, subtle marks in a letter can change an entire word. This doesn’t have any of that. It’s like having a conversation with a four-year-old. Simple words. Simplistic sentence structures. It’s—”
“What are these?” asked Hannah, pointing to what I had assumed were long spatters of blood that traced the larger spot on the floor.
“Oh?” Hagen furrowed his brow. “You know, I’m not sure.”
Hannah was more prepared than I was. She pulled a small notebook from her handbag and began to draw the lines.
“It looks like a symbol.” She crouched down, her muscles tight. You can dress up a roader in as much finery as you want—dresses, suits, fancy hats—but it won’t change them at their core. She still looked ready to spring forward.
“There are some more complex sentences here. Words I don’t understand. I think we’ll need to go back to my shop and do some research.”
I turned to Kiver, who was talking with his security people. “You have guests, feel free to return to your party. We’ll lock up after ourselves and come find you when you’re done.”
Kiver breathed a sigh of relief. “Carter’s cross, thank you. I hate this place. This whole floor. Not even sure how I feel about this buildi—“
“Sir!” a panicked voice echoed from down the hallway. “Sir, are you here?”
The security detail tensed, each reaching a hand into their jackets.
“That’s Landel,” Kiver said, holding up a hand to calm the guards. “It’s just Landel.” He called out. “We’re down the hall. Where we found Hokioi.”
A tuxedoed servant came around the corner. He was dauger, his mask simple and made of brass. The eyes behind the slits were wide and he appeared jittery. He stopped, doubled over, breathing heavily.
“I came as—” A gasp. “—fast as I could.”
“Take a breath. What is it?” asked Kiver, a hint of trepidation leaking into his question.
Hannah and Hagen paused and looked up.
“Sir,” the servant said. “There’s been an incident. Someone else has been killed.”
“W–what!” Kiver shouted. He blinked and stumbled back. “Where? W–when?”
“In Shangdi Tower. In your apartment.”
“Who!” Kiver bellowed.
“Sir, it’s D–doctor Adderley. Doctor Adderley has been killed.”
A handful of Lovat’s finest were already at Kiver’s apartment by the time we arrived back at Shangdi Tower. We had run the few blocks between the two towers, scaring what few elevated pedestrians had braved the cold air. We didn’t stop when we entered the Shangdi’s lobby. Kiver signaled for us to follow and despite the protests of the watchman at the front desk we pushed into a lift and rapidly ascended.
When the lift opened into the secure vestibule, we surprised a pair of uniformed officers with stoic faces and heavy bags under their eyes outside the flat’s door. They both started and their hands immediately gripped their clubs.
“Wh—” one said, his words sputtering to a stop when he recognized Kiver storming towards him. “Sorry, sir.”
Kiver ignored him and pushed past. The rest of us followed.
The strained party scene we had left had changed significantly. News of the death had quickly spread through the crowd and the holiday spirit had evaporated. A man in a white tuxedo jacket and a maero woman in a sparkling evening dress were arguing with one of Kiver’s security team. They clearly hadn’t let anyone leave. Partygoers clustered in groups near the entrance.
The flashing lights that hung from the ceiling now played across the faces of the crowd. Turning each face into a terrified pantomime. Frightened guests whispered loudly to one another, a few crying out and shouting when Kiver entered.
He ignored them, too.
“What a mess,” mumbled Hannah behind me.
The orchestra had stopped playing and now meandered together near the buffet table. The servants in their tuxedos looked distraught. A couple were smoking near a staircase to the upper floor. I couldn’t imagine what was playing in their heads.
Kiver’s security detail looked aghast, and along with that was a clear expression of shame. Someone had been killed under their noses.
“Where?” Kiver demanded from one of his security team, a dauger with a steel mask who was built like a brick.
“Back here, sir. Follow me,” the dauger said.
We all did.
The scene was nearly identical to the one we had just left in the other tower. Only this blood was red, and the body was still in the center. A couple of cops tried to stop us from entering but Kiver pushed his way inside.
Doctor Frank Adderley was still in his smartly cut gray suit. Except now his chest and stomach were cut open, and it seemed he had tried in vain to stop the bleeding. His arms were soaked in blood up to the elbows. Some had even spattered his sharp chin and chiseled cheekbones and there was a smear across his forehead. His green eyes were open but clearly empty. Seein
g nothing. He stared at the blank ceiling of Kiver’s loft. A disturbing, enraptured smile on his face.
The smell was awful. The bowels or stomach had clearly been nicked. I had to turn away and take a few deep breaths.
The room was large, with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked onto the construction of Level Nine. It was obviously used as a child's room, most likely a teen’s. In very un-maero fashion, posters of monochrome stars and jazz musicians decorated the walls. Near the door lay a maero bed-mat, piled high with stuffed animals. Besides that sat a small stool. The rest of the room was largely empty.
I turned and reevaluated the scene.
It was nearly identical to the previous one. An odd pattern like the one Hannah had spotted was traced around the body and partially obscured by a growing pool of blood. Rising along the wall below the body was more Aklo.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Hagen was taking notes, immediately working on copying and translating the Aklo. Hannah had also started sketching portions of the scene that caught her eye, the notepad pressed against her fake hand as her real one worked a pencil. I watched her circle the room, sketching out the symbols on the floor, observing and then taking notes about the position of the body.
“I was just with Frank,” said Kiver to one of the officers. “He was fine! What happened?”
I was wondering the same thing.
The umbra, Charles Shain, stood in one corner, wiping his shadowy nose and giving a statement to an officer. Blood smeared the front of his suit, obscuring most of his yellow tie. He broke away when he saw Kiver enter.
“Chuck, what happened?” Kiver declared as he took in the umbra’s appearance.
“He was still alive, Kiv. He was still alive when I found him here,” said Shain. The umbra collapsed and Kiver rushed to hold him up. He eased him onto the stool. The umbra’s shoulders shook. The color of his eyes had faded to a dull yellow. Tendrils of smoke drifted from his face where his cheeks would be.
We waited a few moments as Shain took a deep breath and began to speak. “After you two left, I got engaged in another conversation. I realized half an hour had passed and it doesn’t take that long to use a teleprinter. So I went to look for him.”
Red Litten World Page 10
