New York Nights [Virex 01]

by Eric Brown

  He was rocking back in his chair, his short legs propped on the table, and he almost spilled himself in his haste to stand up. He hurried around the desk, pulling the cigar butt from his mouth and peering at Halliday’s head.

  ‘Jesus, Hal, what the hell have you been doing? Sit down. Christ, you look terrible.’

  ‘I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.’

  Barney almost pushed him onto the chesterfield. ‘Stay there. I’ll get something for that.’ He moved to the adjoining bedroom and emerged with a first-aid kit.

  ‘Barney, I’ll be fine. All I need is a shower.’

  ‘Shut it and tip your head back. How the hell did this happen?’

  ‘It’s a long story, Barney.’

  ‘I’ve got all the time in the world.’

  As Barney cleaned the wound with antiseptic, Halliday went through the events of the night before, detail by minute detail, omitting nothing.

  Every couple of days they went through the case they were working on, point by point, going back over details that might at first have seemed trivial, cross-checking facts, bouncing ideas and speculations off each other until the topic was exhausted and they had a clearer picture of the case.

  When Halliday got to the rooftop encounter with the Latino, he paused. He was gripped by the knowledge, as if for the first time, that someone had tried to kill him. Out there, someone had wanted him dead . . . might very well still want him dead.

  ‘I need a coffee.’

  ‘Sure. I’ll fix it.’ Barney poured a mug of strong Colombian roast from the percolator. He passed it to Halliday and sat next to him on the chesterfield, peering at the cut.

  ‘It looks okay. Nasty, but not that deep. I could get Doc Symes to . . .’

  ‘Forget it. I’ll be fine.’

  Barney ignited the butt of his cigar. ‘So, we’re on the roof. What happened then?’

  Halliday thought back to the fight on the rooftop. He remembered bringing his gun down, hard, into the guy’s face. ‘So I hit him, in the face, and then the damnedest thing . . .’ he stopped.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘You won’t believe this, Barney.’

  ‘Try me.’

  Halliday shrugged. ‘I don’t know if I believe it myself.’ He looked at Barney and laughed. ‘The guy’s face ... it changed. I mean, one second he was a guy, Puerto Rican, maybe Cuban, and then I hit him and his face changed. He was a girl, a blonde.’ His right hand was trembling, and he gripped his thigh to stop it.

  Barney’s expression was unreadable. ‘So what happened then?’

  Halliday recounted his flight to the edge of the building, his fear. ‘Then the guy - he was back to the Latino, then - the guy launched himself at me, knocked me over the edge.’

  Barney stared. ‘You fell from the top of a three-storey building?’

  ‘Landed on a pile of garbage sacks, fell to the ground and hit my head. I blacked out. Next thing I know, it’s midday.’

  Barney was shaking his head. He took the butt from his mouth, gave it a good long inspection, and then glanced up at Halliday. ‘I’d say you’re the damned luckiest son of a bitch in Manhattan, Hal. No, make that New York State.’

  Halliday laughed, nervously. ‘Don’t you think I know it? The number of times I might’ve bought it last night . . .’

  Barney moved to his swivel chair and tapped the keyboard. ‘I’ll get through to Jeff, see if he can get someone good on the case. Now that there’s a potential killer involved, they might be more interested. I’ll get Jeff to send the case file while I’m at it.’

  The desk-com flared and Barney spoke with a receptionist.

  ‘Lieutenant Simmons is in a briefing at the moment, Mr Kluger.’

  ‘Get him to call me back when he’s through.’ He cut the connection and looked at Halliday. ‘You say Carrie Villeux wasn’t around last night?’

  ‘Her friends were concerned. She’d arrange to meet them at the Scumbar last night at ten - she hadn’t missed a Friday night in years. When she didn’t show, I went to the Solano Building with a woman called Kia Johansen.’

  ‘This dyke, you say she got away when the Latino came in?’

  Halliday nodded. ‘I think so. She was closer to the door. I’m sure she got out before he started firing.’

  ‘We need to question her about last night, her relationship with Villeux and Nigeria,’ Barney said. ‘You say you found a fused com-console. Anything else? No signs of forced entry, burglary?’

  Halliday shook his head. ‘Not that I noticed, but I hardly had time to check before the lights went out and the fun started.’

  Barney tipped back his seat. ‘Any thoughts?’

  ‘I want to get an expert to look at the console. I’d like to find out what Nigeria was working on.’

  ‘I’ll get Jeff to sort that out,’ Barney said. He paused and looked at Halliday. ‘About this guy, what you saw. You don’t think...’

  ‘What? That I was seeing things?’ He regarded the dregs of his coffee. ‘Look, right now, I want to believe that - it’s a good explanation. I’d be happier if I had hallucinated the damned thing.’ He shook his head. ‘But, Barney, it happened. I saw it. It was no hallucination. The guy changed appearance before my eyes and it frightened me.’

  Barney nodded, withholding judgement. He’s being kind, Halliday thought, he obviously thinks I lost it last night.

  He looked up, sensing someone else in the office.

  Kim stood against the doorframe. ‘What frightened you, Hal?’ she said, glaring at him. ‘The thought of getting home late, is that it?’

  Oddly enough, the sight of her, bundled in her padded primrose jacket, pretty oval face framed by the fur of her hat, filled Halliday with a sudden surge of affection.

  He savoured the tight, angry line of her lips, knowing that soon her rage would turn to concern. It would make a change from her anger, which could simmer on for days.

  ‘Sweetheart,’ Barney said. ‘Hal was attacked last night. He’s lucky to be alive.’

  Halliday saw her expression change. She absorbed what Barney had said, took a second to readjust her thoughts away from the desire to shout at him. Her eyes widened and she hurried across to where he lay on the chesterfield, sat next to him and grasped his hand. She saw the cut at his temple and her fingers found his cheek.

  ‘What happened, Hal? Who did this?’

  He gave her a shortened version of the events, playing down the danger. She listened, biting her bottom lip in a gesture of ill-contained fear, like a child being told a scary story.

  Her eyes had always fascinated and beguiled Halliday, their size, the width of the flattened space between them. Now, filled and filmed with tears, they shone with the lustre of rain-washed jet.

  She was going over what he’d said, frowning. ‘I heard you say something - the guy changed, and it frightened you?’

  Halliday glanced at Barney, who merely shrugged.

  ‘When we were fighting. I hit him and the guy’s face changed. For a second or two he ... he looked like a woman. I know, it’s crazy.’ He stopped at the sight of Kim’s expression.

  She was shaking her head. She looked as scared as he had felt last night. ‘Hal, I believe you.’ Her hands squeezed his fingers. ‘I know what you saw.’

  ‘You do?’ Would she never cease to amaze him?

  ‘Shape-shifter,’ she whispered. ‘Evil spirit.’

  Barney raised his eyebrows and shuttled his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other, loving this.

  Deadpan, Halliday repeated, ‘Evil spirit?’

  She nodded, serious. ‘A terrible evil spirit. In Singapore, we know about shape-shifters. They possess people, force them to do what they don’t want to do. They change their appearances so they can do these things. They give them superhuman strength.’

  Halliday smiled. He cupped her cheek. ‘Kim, this guy wasn’t that strong. I managed to disarm him.’

  ‘You were lucky!’ The tears spilled now, rolling down her cheeks, a
nd Halliday felt guilty for his show of gentle ridicule.

  ‘Hal,’ she said, ‘please leave this case! Evil spirits, they never give up. You anger them, they follow you and never let you go. In the end, evil spirits get what they want. Just leave this case, hokay?’

  She looked from Halliday to Barney, as if for support.

  ‘I’m sure there’s some rational explanation, sweetheart,’ Barney said. ‘No need to go getting yourself worked up.’

  Kim looked exasperated. ‘There’s every need! You don’t know how evil shape-shifters are!’

  Halliday reached out and thumbed the tears from her cheeks. ‘I’ll stay off the case, if that’s what you want, Kim. We’ll let the cops deal with it.’

  She hugged him, and the feel of her body in his arms persuaded him that the lie had been worthwhile.

  She pulled away. ‘Do you feel like going out, Hal? Big surprise, remember?’

  ‘I’ll get a quick shower and change. Where we going?’

  She smiled radiantly. ‘Surprise means secret, Hal. You’ll find out when you get there, hokay?’

  The screen chimed, and the receptionist at police headquarters stared out at Barney. ‘Lieutenant Simmons online,’ she said. ‘I’ll put you through.’

  Kim squeezed Halliday’s hand. ‘I’ll go and change.”

  ‘I’ll be up in a minute.’ He watched her run from the office.

  Barney said, ‘You meant what you told her about dropping the . . .?’

  Halliday raised a finger to his lips and whispered, ‘What do you think, Barney?’

  The screen flared and Jeff Simmons stared out. ‘Barney, Hal. Good to see you both. How can I help?’

  ‘It’s the Sissi Nigeria case, Jeff. Your reference. . .’ Barney dropped a screen menu and read off the reference number.

  Jeff Simmons was a massive silver-haired Irish-American in his late fifties, thirty years in the force and nearing retirement age. He was softly-spoken and unruffled; in the ten years Halliday had known Simmons, he’d never heard him panic or raise his voice, never seen him move with undue haste. His reasoned, thoughtful approach to problems inspired confidence.

  Now he nodded. ‘I know the case, Barney. Carrie Villeux came by about a week ago . . .’ He glanced off-screen at another com. ‘I put Fernandez on the case. I’ll send you his report. He came up with nothing much.’

  Barney smiled. ‘That’s probably why Villeux came to us - she said you weren’t getting anywhere.’

  ‘That’s right, but we had a call last night.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ Barney said. ‘Hal was there.’ Barney briefed Simmons on the events of the night before.

  Simmons leaned back in his seat and listened, massaging his fleshy cheeks with a big hand. He looked from the screen at Hal. ‘This Latino guy, you said you saw him change?’

  Halliday leaned forward on the chesterfield. ‘I know it’s hard to believe, Jeff. I didn’t believe it at the time, and now I’m beginning to wonder . . .’

  ‘Describe it to me. I mean, exactly what happened. Barney says you hit the guy?’

  Halliday nodded. ‘Brought my automatic down on his right cheek. Pretty sure I smashed the bone.’

  ‘And only then did he change appearance.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ Jeff said under his breath, leaning back in his seat and stretching.

  ‘I know, I know. Like I said, I’m beginning to doubt it myself.’

  Jeff was shaking his head. ‘It isn’t that, Hal. I believe you.’

  ‘You do?’ Halliday glanced at Barney.

  ‘I wish I wasn’t hearing this,’ Jeff said.

  Barney reached out and adjusted the screen slightly, staring in at the cop. ‘What is it?’

  Jeff chewed his lip. ‘I thought they weren’t out there. I’d heard about them, of course.’

  For a crazy second, Halliday thought that the usually sane, dependable Jeff Simmons was about to come out with some spiel about evil shape-shifting spirits. He expected it from Kim: her past, the workings of her mind, was an exotic mystery to him. To hear the same talk from Simmons would have seriously undermined Halliday’s view of the universe as a rational and logical system.

  ‘Ever heard of shoes?’ Jeff asked now.

  ‘Sure,’ Barney got in before Halliday. ‘I even got a few pairs myself.’

  ‘Still the same old comedian,’ Jeff said. ‘No, you wear these shoes, but not on your feet. It’s an acronym, C-H-U.’

  ‘Will you please explain what the hell you’re talking about, Lieutenant?’ Barney said.

  ‘Chus, or Capillary Hologram Units. It’s a fine net of holographic fibre optics. I’d heard some of the big software companies were experimenting with them. Frankly, I was hoping they’d bomb. I was frightened of what might happen if they ever got out there.’

  ‘You mean,’ Halliday said. ‘This guy was wearing a chu, like a mask?’

  Jeff nodded. ‘It’s a kind of elasticated hood which fits over the head. It can be programmed to emit a number of separate identities, different faces. When you hit this guy, it caused a dysfunction in the programming, hence the quick change.’

  ‘Jesus Christ. So . . .’ Halliday followed the consequences of what Jeff was saying. ‘So even the guy’s original appearance as a Latino, even that might’ve been a disguise?’

  ‘That’s right. Just another projected persona. See why I hoped these things would never hit the streets?’

  ‘But they’re expensive, right?’ Barney said. ‘I mean, you can’t pick these things up at your local electrical goods store?’

  ‘They’re state of the art now, Barney. But you know how these things go. Within a year, two, every petty criminal in New York state’ll be packing one.’

  Barney was shaking his head. ‘It won’t make our job any easier. Imagine trying to trace someone who has a chu and doesn’t want to be found.’

  Halliday sat back on the chesterfield. The explanation was, despite the potential criminal consequences of the devices, personally reassuring. It stilled that tiny, superstitious voice that had nagged him with the possibility that what he’d experienced last night could not be rationally explained.

  Then he considered Kim, and how truly he did not know her. What must the world seem like to someone with an unshakeable belief in spirits and the occult?

  Not for the first time the contradictions that made up Kim Long amazed him. To all appearances she was a materialistic, twenty-first-century woman, with a veneer of sophistication and a sharp business brain. Under the surface, however, she had more in common with the long line of her ancestors stretching back into the mysterious mists of dynastic China and beyond.

  Jeff Simmons was saying, ‘I’ll step up the investigation. We’ll go through the building and question people acquainted with Nigeria and Villeux.’

  ‘It’d help if we could trace where the chu came from,’ Barney said.

  ‘You bet. I’ll work on it, see if any of the big companies know anything. I’ll contact the industrial espionage team. They might know of leaks.’ He nodded. ‘Barney, Hal. I’ll be in touch as soon as I learn anything.’

  The connection died.

  Barney smiled. ‘Hey, you weren’t going crazy, Hal.’

  ‘It’s good to know.’ He paused, considering. ‘Why do you think that guy wanted me dead, Barney?’

  His partner shrugged, uncomfortable. ‘You were snooping around the Nigeria case,’ he said. He shook his head and looked at Hal. ‘You don’t think there’s any way this guy could trace you?’

  Halliday felt a sudden nauseating fear at the thought. ‘No, no . . . I don’t think so. He didn’t know me from Adam, and anyway he left me for dead, didn’t he?’

  Barney changed the subject. ‘Hey, are you going to tell Kim about the chu, or do you want me to break the news?’

  Halliday stood up and stretched. ‘You know something? She wouldn’t believe me if I did tell her. She’d find the thought of evil spirits easier
to believe in than capillary hologram units.’

  He left Barney and made his way up to the loft. Kim was selecting a dress, holding it up against her body and looking at herself in the mirror, frowning.

  Halliday showered, the hot water easing the aches and pains from tired muscles. When he stepped from the drier and crossed the loft to the closet where he hung his clothes, Kim was still trying to decide what to wear. She stood naked before a long rail of dresses and skirts, lower lip caught between her teeth, a picture of indecision. It forever amazed him that she could spend so long wondering what to wear, and then still regret her decision once the choice was made. No doubt his sister would have something to say about his lack of empathy.