Death Calls

by Al K. Line

  The building was late Georgian, with impressive windows. Huge things that would have flooded the rooms with light. Now the panes that weren't cracked or missing were covered in thick grime that filtered what little light there was. The facade was imposing, with tall spiral chimneys, an uncharacteristic portico over the front door that looked out of place, and with fancy smooth brickwork on the facade that had held up well even to the British weather.

  Jake hadn't been exactly honest about having a place of his own. This was more a squat than an official residence, but anything is better than nothing, and who knew, maybe he'd done the place out nice inside.

  Mellow music filtered down from an upstairs window, old reggae that felt at odds with the violence always present in these parts. Happy music, mellow and calming like a cold beer on a hot summer's day. But it wasn't hot, and nothing was calm, and I didn't have a beer. There must have been a handful of occupied apartments or rooms, and judging by the freshly painted gloss-green front door and brass door knocker, the occupants were trying to keep the place nice. I stepped back and studied the exterior again. My first impressions may have been a little wrong, judgmental even.

  Yes, several windows were smashed, and most were dirty, or looked it. But on closer inspection maybe the darkened windows were painted that way. A cheap alternative to curtains and a way to maintain privacy yet make the building look like there was nothing of value inside. My guess was we had a mixture of people living here, some down on their luck, others trying to live a life that wasn't utterly depressing.

  With a shrug, I joined Vicky back at the door and with a nod she reached out and used the brass lion head door knocker to thud loudly. We waited for a while but nobody came. Vicky knocked louder and a head appeared from the upstairs window where the music had been playing.

  "Can I help you?" asked a woman with long, very straight blond hair hanging over sharp cheekbones and a junkie face.

  "We're looking for Jake. Is he here? Do you know which part of the house he lives in?"

  "Why do you want him?"

  "Just need to have a chat. I saw him earlier, got him out of a spot of bother, so want to make sure he's all right."

  "I knew it! I bloody knew it. That lying son of a bitch. Wait there." With that she ducked back inside and the music was turned off.

  We heard footsteps on stairs then the door was opened.

  The woman wore a yellow floral summer dress that washed out her hair color and made her skin terribly pale. She was waif-like, way too thin, yet pretty with it. Her eyes were dark, surprisingly so, and blue veins pulsed under the sockets. Her arms were bare save a few leather straps, and I think she wore such unseasonal clothes to prove a point. She was clean. No track marks, no telltale purple bruises at her veins, no scars or any of the usual signs of the desperate junkie. Was she with Jake? Surely not?

  "I'm Kim," she said as she held out her hand and studied me with her head cocked like a hungry starling.

  "Arthur. The Hat. Kim, eh? I'm sure I know another Kim." I thought for a moment. "Nope, maybe not." Vicky snorted and I caught her rolling her eyes. "What?"

  "Nothing, it's just you're an idiot."

  "That's not nice." I turned back to Kim. "So, where was I? Ah, yes. The Hat."

  "What about it? Apart from it being nice." She inspected Grace then nodded.

  "That's what they call me. The Hat."

  "Why?" She stared some more, then cracked a smile and her face lit up. "Haha, sorry, just joking. I know who you are. Heard of you at least. You aren't really a wizard, are you?"

  "I am."

  "Yeah, but really?"

  "Um, no, I'm not."

  "But you just said you were."

  "I did, then you said you didn't believe me. So, whatever."

  "I'm Vicky."

  Kim shook hands and then turned her back and said, "Come on then. Don't let all the cold air in."

  We went inside and closed the door.

  "Don't mind the mess. Some people here are filthy animals. Come up where it's nice and clean."

  "I can't believe you don't remember the other Kim," whispered Vicky.

  "What other Kim?" I asked, puzzled.

  "You know, the one you keep forgetting the name of and... Never mind." Vicky jabbed me in the ribs for no reason whatsoever. Sometimes I feel like I am taking another man's punishment. Usually, actually.

  We followed Kim up the bare wooden stairs, ignored the mess, the peeling wallpaper, and the medical smells that lingered even after all this time, and headed right up to the top of the house.

  Kim had what I guess you would call the attic, but these old properties had often used them as servant's quarters back when people had servants, so it was a large room with several smaller ones off. There was one large window, two smaller ones, and all were painted dark and had the glass intact, replaced fairly recently judging by the bad putty job. The work was probably done by Kim.

  The room was sparsely furnished with old but clean stuff she probably got for free or cheap and the floor was covered in a mishmash of rugs of all shapes, sizes, and hues. There was a long sideboard with a record player and stacks of vinyl lined up neatly underneath.

  On the coffee table, a simple thing made from scaffolding planks nailed to wooden blocks, was a clean ashtray, a small pack of hand rolling tobacco, and several lighters. Books were piled high in several corners, and a small alcove held a compact but sparkling kitchen.

  "The place looks nice. Very clean and tidy," I said.

  "You expected it to be a dive, right? Stinking and filthy and with stained mattresses and all that junkie stink everywhere?"

  "I keep an open mind. But Jake seemed pretty strung out, and a mess, so I assume you keep your pad looking smart and homely and not him?"

  "Ha, if it was down to him we'd be on the streets, dying a little more day by day."

  "Like him you mean?"

  "Yeah, like him." Kim sank into a futon and wrapped her legs underneath her. "Please, sit down."

  "He's been here, hasn't he?" asked Vicky, taking a seat next to me on another futon.

  "Yeah. Look, no offense, but why do you want him? What's he done now? You won't hurt him will you? Are the stories about you true, Arthur? And what's with the wizard thing?"

  "I am a wizard, there is magic in the world, and like everyone else you won't believe me. And as to the stories, they probably are true, unfortunately."

  "My mum told me all about you. She's from around here, way back when I was a kid she said there was this man, Arthur, The Hat, and he was a legend. Stuck here same as the rest of us, but got out. Did some wild things, cleaned up the streets for a while, got rid of the dealers, stopped the trafficking, saved a few women from a dodgy life, that kind of thing. She always said you used magic, that she saw it several times, but she was pretty far gone even then."

  "I was around for a while, but I left, yeah. Your mum, she died?" I remembered the woman. I could see the similarities, and recalled a few run-ins with her, having a scolding for misbehaving. She was nice, and on the level even when off her head.

  "She did. Long time ago now. I was young but I coped." Kim glanced around the room. "If you call this coping."

  "But you're clean, doing good now?" I asked, already knowing she was on the mend. Soon she'd leave, would make the hard decision and leave Jake behind because he would not change. Maybe it was to be today? Things clicked into place.

  "He's been, you had a fight, he went off the rails, grabbed some stuff, and left. And now you're sitting here wondering if you should give him one more chance or if enough is enough. You know he's bad news, isn't good for you, and he'll suck you back in, but you love him."

  "How do you know all that!?" Kim looked scared and confused. Vicky glanced my way, shocked too.

  "I've seen it before many times. I know how it goes. You're off the stuff, vowed to stay clean, and living with someone who refuses to be on your side, to help you, is a hiding to nowhere. If you can't get the support from him
then why do you stay? That's what you've thought. Sorry, but it's the way it often happens."

  "So what should I do?"

  "You already know."

  "I do." Kim glanced over into a corner. There were several bags packed. She was going to leave today.

  "So what happened? To be fair, let me tell you what's been going on, then you decide if you want to help or not. If you are leaving, I don't want it to be with you worrying about him." I told her my story, replacing the Death Book with just a valuable book, but left little else out.

  The more I spoke, the more upset she became, until by the end of it she was crying. Vicky was sitting next to her holding her hand, and I wanted to pat her on the head and say "There, there," but from past experience knew it was a bad move.

  Bad News

  "I'm sorry," I mumbled, feeling lame but not knowing what else to say.

  "It's okay," said Kim, sniffing and wiping her eyes on a tissue Vicky supplied. Vicky always had tissues, they seemed to be stuck up her sleeves permanently and I guess that's a part of parenthood I'll thankfully never get to experience. "I knew he wouldn't change, deep down I knew. We've been together for a while, couple of years on and off, and I honestly thought he could beat this."

  "You got clean?"

  "Third time lucky for me. Haha, what a joke. You must think I'm an idiot, stupid junkie trash who can't get her act together and lives with a misfit boyfriend who would put his own cousin at risk. What a pair of losers."

  "Hey, we don't think that," said Vicky, patting Kim's knee.

  "No, we don't. I get it, I know how hard it is to beat an addiction. I know Jake's tried over the years, but from what I've seen and heard he never truly wanted to escape this life, this place. The drugs. You do, and that's the difference. You know what it does to you and you want out. You want that for him too but you know it won't happen."

  "But I thought maybe, just maybe..." Kim trailed off. She knew there was no point saying more, that she was kidding herself.

  Nobody wants to admit these things about somebody they love. You want to think you can help them, that your life might get better, when truth is you're being held back and held down by somebody more than willing to drag you into the gutter with them and keep you there. That's not love, that's just cruel and selfish.

  "Listen, I need to find him. I need to recover what he stole and I need it soon. I know this is hard, and you don't want to rat him out, but this is very, and I mean very, important. You could say the fate of the world depends on it."

  "Wizard stuff?"

  "Yes, wizard stuff."

  "Is he really a wizard?" Kim asked Vicky.

  "He sure is. Awesome, right?"

  "Yeah. Can I see? Let me see and I'll tell you where he goes, where he's likely to be. Promise you won't tell him I'm leaving. I can't face that, him begging me to stay. We've been through it before several times and I always give in. This time I won't, I can't, so you have to promise."

  "We promise," said Vicky.

  "Promise," I said.

  "Okay. Go on then."

  "Um, what do you want me to do? I feel silly, and you still won't believe me. Nobody ever does. Magic is a secret but not a secret. People refuse to believe it's real, insist it's a trick. But this is real."

  "Mum always said it was genuine, that you were wild and did some crazy stuff. You were pretty violent too, but loyal to your friends."

  "That about sums up Arthur," said Vicky with a smile.

  "Yeah, maybe when I was younger. I've mellowed now." Vicky raised an eyebrow. "Trust me, I have. You should have seen me. After I came back from Africa, and all that went down with Zewedu, I roamed, I became a face, then I dropped off the scene for a while, lost my way, got overcome by all the magic and the power. It's a hard thing to cope with."

  "And you went wild? Gosh, I can't imagine what you were like."

  "You would not have liked me when I was at my lowest point. Anyway, all in the past."

  "You got out from here, that's the main point," said Kim.

  "I did. And you can too. You just have to want it more than you want this life."

  "I want freedom. I want to have a job, a nice home. I want a cat that I will remember to feed."

  "And you will. You ready?"

  Kim nodded excitedly and so did Vicky. I stood and both women leaned forward, eager for The Hat's parlor tricks. Damn, I felt like a first-class idiot. I was The Hat, not a freak show. Still, this was important, and maybe it would help Kim believe there was more to life, to this world. But that's not the reason why I did it. I did it for her mum. She was nice and kind but she was lost same as the rest of us. Maybe this would at least allow Kim to know her mum was telling the truth about this and maybe lots of other things. She deserved that much.

  And so it was, for only the second time in my life, I showed magic merely to prove I was who I said I was.

  The Crowd Roars

  "That was awesome," whispered Kim, eyes wide. She wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

  Vicky was flushed and her chest was heaving, in fact both their chests were heaving and I was becoming distracted by the heat in the room.

  "That was pretty cool," said Vicky, trying to play it down.

  "It was nothing," I said, bashful.

  "It was utterly awesome. How did you do it?" asked Kim.

  "Huh?"

  "You know, the trick. How'd you do it?"

  "Ugh, not again. It's real magic, not a trick," I shouted.

  "Haha, gotcha," laughed Kim. "I know it was real. At least I think it was. So magic is real? It truly exists?"

  "Honey, you don't know the half of it," said Vicky.

  "You really don't," I chuckled, pleased she had been messing with me and was a believer.

  "Excuse me a minute, I need to get cleaned up." Kim left and closed the door on a small bathroom.

  "Quick, grab her phone and hack into her bank account," I whispered in Vicky's ear.

  "Arthur, that's mean."

  "No, I want to give her a bit of help. She won't take cash, not that I have much on me anyway, but we can transfer some. Can you do that? You know all the account numbers. Do it quick. Make it ten large."

  "You sure? That's a lot of money. What if she uses it to buy drugs?" Vicky whispered as she glanced at the bathroom door then picked up the phone on the table.

  "If she does, she's a fool, but I don't think she will. She wants out and to make a new start. Sometimes you just need a helping hand. Set something on her phone so it will tell her to check once we've gone. Can you do that?"

  Vicky tapped the screen on Kim's phone once more after fiddling with it while we spoke and said, "Done," then put it back down.

  "What, already? How'd you do that?"

  "Because I'm an ace hacker and you are an old fuddy duddy who can't even send an email properly."

  "There's something wrong with the computer! It keeps sending things to the wrong people. It's broken but you won't fix it."

  "It is not broken. You're the one who's broken."

  Kim returned looking fresher and with a spring in her step, like something had changed. I knew what it was. She had made her mind up. Our visit had been the final nail in the coffin. Proof Jake was not a nice guy, couldn't be trusted, and would risk her life, and his own, in pursuit of a deal or another high. Good for her.

  Over the next ten minutes she gave us any information she could concerning his whereabouts and Vicky took notes. Which made a change. Normally, she'd say she could remember it all and then when we got about our business we'd have no clue where to go or what the person we'd spoken to had said. She may have used her phone rather than pad and pencil, which seemed just wrong, but at least she was learning.

  Towards the end, Vicky kept giving me the eye, and glancing at the door.

  "What?" I mouthed silently.

  She nodded to the door again. What was with her? Was she expecting Jake?

  "Well, thank you, it's time we left," she pipe
d up, grabbing her things hurriedly and getting up. "Come on, Arthur, time's wasting. Let's go find Jake."

  "Um, okay? Thank you, Kim, it was a pleasure to meet you. Good luck in the future, I'm sure you'll do well for yourself." I shook her hand and smiled. She was a nice person, I hoped she made it.

  "Nice to meet you too, Arthur," she said, a quizzical look on her face. "Please don't hurt Jake."

  "I won't."

  Vicky hugged Kim, and they held tight for a few seconds. Vicky always had a knack for making people feel better, and could hug someone she just met without it seeming weird. I tried it once, got a smack and called a dirty old man.

  We left, and as we walked down the path we heard the window open.

  "Thank you," shouted Kim with a huge grin. "Are you sure? It's a lot of money."

  "I'm sure," I shouted back. "Get a place, buy some nice things, and start your life."

  "I will. Wow, I can't believe it." Kim waved and smiled so wide it made my heart sing.

  We wandered off and I forgot to do my gangster walk.

  "That was really nice of you," said Vicky.

  "I figured if I can spend five grand on Jake then she sure as hell deserves at least double."

  I tried to recall if I'd promised not to hurt Jake.

  Desperate Times

  Penelope called when we were halfway back to the car. I filled her in on what we'd discovered so far, told her not to worry, and asked her to apologize to George for not being home for dinner. Family time was important, now more than ever because everything was so new for us all, but I had to find Jake and I had to find a way to remain here so I could continue to make excuses for not turning up when I should.

  I was gasping for a smoke, and without the ritual of dinner I didn't have George to supply my one cigarette of the day. A spindly thing she hand-rolled for me and which got suspiciously thinner month after month. It would have to wait, because I had no choice.