by Ciaran Nagle
He was late of course, as befitted the Prince of Ego. He approached the island slowly, almost insolently, as if all of creation waited on him. Then he feathered his shining wings - for was he not once an angel, as great as any in the heavens, and was his name Lucifer not synonymous with light? - and strutted and tutted around the island, lamenting its rudimentary landscaping which was unworthy of a spiritual leader of his importance.
'Why am I here? What business do you want with me, O relic of Hippo?' began he whose name could not be uttered in Heaven's spaces and whose time, even in his own kingdom, was limited. 'Are you chaste yet, Gus, or are you still chasing angelic tail with as much verve as you chased Roman tail?' The Leader laughed at Augustine's apparent pain.
'None of that in Paradise? What a shame. I can lend you some if you like.' He gestured at his escorts. 'On the QT, you know. While you're away from home. Won't tell anyone, promise. Got some delicious skirt just arrived from Earth too, all colours, all sizes. Wicked, some of it. We're strictly egalitarian in Hades, no discrimination. But too much for me to handle by myself, you know. Fancy flexing the old muscle, Gussie? Bit of pork swordery just to remind you of the old days? What do you say old chap?'
Augustine had wisdom in his eyes and on his countenance, but these were withheld from Inferno's Leader who saw only what he wanted to see, the basest of motives and desires. Augustine had long since faced down his fleshly yearnings and put them aside. Now with his youth restored to him in Paradise and strength in his arms he seemed to the Leader like one who must be bursting with appetite and longing. The Leader could not see his courage, patience and self-control for these were outside his imagining. Augustine knew that he never would.
'You know why I'm here,' he said simply.
'Oh what a bore,' sighed the Leader. 'You heavenly types only want to talk business. You're just no fun. You don't know how to have a laugh. Why don't you let your hair down, tell a few jokes?' He looked at Augustine to see if he was scoring any hits. But the Saint looked back patiently and waited.
'All right then, if we must talk business let's get on with it,' he went on. 'You've lost someone I believe. Most careless of you. Forgotten his name.'
'Jabez.'
'Oh yes, that was it. Jabez. Remember now. He was mentioned in one of your books wasn't he? Chronicles. Boring name for a book. You know I've always wondered about Jabez. You have this intensely boring list of names - everything about you lot is boring - then Jabez pops up for a couple of lines, asking for favours as usual. Do all your lot do nothing but beg for favours all the time? So selfish. Mine work hard you know. You could learn something from us. Anyway, after Jabez says he doesn't want to cause pain - which is ironic don't you think, in the circumstances?' he laughed at his joke and turned to his escort for complicity in his humour 'you go back to another boring list of names. And then you tell everyone your books are enlightening. Illuminating, even. I just don't see it old friend, the logic escapes me.' He turned back to his escort shaking his head in derision.
'You captured Jabez, against the rules,' went on Augustine. 'We want him returned.'
'Oh rules, always rules. You lot make up rules and then expect everyone else to abide by them. We don't acknowledge your rules.'
'You agreed to the rules. You signed up to them.'
'Well, I lied.' The Leader held up his hands. 'Oh, don't be surprised Gus, you know I lie. It's what I do best. Everyone knows that.'
'Jabez. We want him back. What's the price?'
The Leader pretended to think hard for a moment.
'Well, Jabez tried to save Nancy's soul and got caught in the attempt. Red-handed, so to speak. Or at least he will be if he stays in Inferno much longer.' His line of females sniggered with him, in perfect unison. 'So their fates are tied together and the old formula is still there, if you want to rely on that. Life for a life. Nancy can save Jabez but only if she pays a high price.'
'And what's that?'
'If she surrenders all she's won,' said the Leader smugly. 'Luckily for me, she's enjoying herself too much. She doesn't care about anyone else so long as she 'finds herself'. She's a natural for Hell. Slave trafficking, drugs, pimping - she'll have lots of friends when she finally gets here. Though I hope that won't be for a long time. She has a lot to do for us before then. Nancy belongs here and I'm going to enjoy her when she eventually arrives. In fact I've already got the handcuffs sorted. I heard she likes that.' He laughed and looked around him at his escort, one of whom stepped forward with a flourish and produced a pair of linked steel bracelets from behind her back. She waved them in the air before slapping them playfully on her wrists.
Augustine ignored her. 'We want Jabez back for certain. What are your terms?' he asked.
'Well, if you really want Jabez back your Boss will have to come and ask me for him. On bended knee.'
'You mean the Lamb,'
'If you want to call him that.'
'That's unlikely,' replied Augustine sternly.
'I thought you might say that. He's made such a big thing about that screw-up outside Jerusalem when he got his come-uppance. We never stop hearing about it, do we? All this incessant bleating about how he died for everyone. It seems to me he was begging for a grisly death.' The Leader stretched his arms out to the sides. 'Oh poor old me,' he said in a croaky voice. 'And he's been dining out on that ever since. If you really want Jabez back all I ask is that the Lamb comes here and makes the request in person. Seems pretty reasonable to me. Or is he too busy partying and listening to everyone tell him how wonderful he is.'
'On bended knee? You want the Lamb to bow down before you?'
'Well if you want to put it that way, please yourself,' smiled the Leader. 'But I won't be hard on him, one knee will do. The floor here is a bit hard and I wouldn't want him to hurt himself. A single genuflection will do, no need for the double. What do you say?'
Augustine was silent.
'Not much of an envoy, are you? Can't make a decision, obviously.' He turned to his escort. 'They used to make saints who could think for themselves. This lot have to kick every decision upstairs. To a higher power.' He sniggered.
Augustine was furious. 'Your time is limited. Hell will not last for ever. This will not help you get an extension on your lease.'
'Oh so you keep saying. Well, I'd better have fun while it lasts then, hey? By the way, since you're unable to give me an answer right now and you've wasted my time, I'm going to take it out on poor Mr Kelly, the beery detective, he of the forename Dan. I want him as dead as a losing scratchcard on a Liverpool pub floor and I'm going to make sure it happens soon. Painfully. That's your fault for not being prepared.'
'Anyway Gus,' he continued, 'while you're consulting with your important chums, I'll just nip off and do some shopping. Got hundreds of delightful darlings in the catalogue to choose from. Shame they're not coming your way. Heavenly bodies, some of them, isn't that a laugh? Flash a red light if you want to join me and I'll send a pair of vixens to pick you up. I'm sure you won't be such a miserable cuss when you're back in the saddle again like the old days. Bye now.' And with that the Leader of the Lost turned, leapt from the island spreading out his wings - and they were still dazzling to behold - and led his siren guard back to the land of the damned.
Kodrob's Squadroom, Pentacurse, Inferno
Jabez lay on the floor, breathing heavily. One of his arms was manacled and chained to a stubby iron girder embedded in the wall. Zhivkin and Kodrob sat watching him at the table while they supped diesel and threw darts at a troll that was running around the room looking for hiding places. Pu Gash stood at the door watching in case Bezejel should make an unannounced visit.
'What I don't understand,' Kodrob was speaking softly so that Jabez wouldn't hear, 'is that Bezejel seemed shocked when you captured him. So I thought she wanted him gone, sent back to Paradise as quickly as possible. But now it seems she and the Leader have decided to keep him prisoner. What's going on?'
Kodrob was Zhivkin's bo
ss and normally he would be the first to know his bosses' plans. But it was an indication of the esteem that Zhivkin was now held in that he knew more than Kodrob. The balance of power in the team had shifted perceptibly and Kodrob knew he had to watch his step. If Zhivkin was really 'in' with Bezejel, he'd better not get him on the wrong side. Boss or no boss, it was influence that mattered, especially when someone as mercurial as Bezejel was above both of you.
'I think it's all to do with Nancy, chief,' replied the cruel Russian. 'She's too important to the future of the war on Earth. The war against the Lamb's forces. The Leader wants to hold onto anyone who has or had any influence over Nancy. If nothing else it makes the other side nervous. It's become a high stakes game. The Leader is using Jabez as a bargaining chip. He doesn't want to hold onto him for ever, Bezejel told me. He's after something bigger.'
'Something bigger?'
'OK, someone bigger. A lot bigger. A big fish.' Zhivkin pushed his face close to Kodrob's, emphasising his point.
'Who?'
'Who do you think?'
'I don't know,' replied Kodrob. 'There's a lot of big fish in Paradise.'
'Put it like this,' Zhivkin was whispering directly into Kodrob's ear. 'Apart from the Creator himself, there is no one bigger.'
'Him?'
'Yeah, Him.'
'How does the Leader plan to do that? asked Kodrob.
'Do you think they'd tell me?'
'I don't buy it.'
'Don't buy what. That they want to get the Lamb?' Zhivkin was starting to sneer again.
'No. I know they want to get him. I just don't see how they will,' replied Kodrob.
'Well. You'd better keep your traitorous thoughts to yourself, Captain,' spat Zhivkin. 'It would be such a shame if Bezejel found out you don't have confidence in our Leader.'
He threw a dart which hit the troll in the arm and stuck there. The fat creature squealed and stood still, holding its hands in front of its face.
'He thinks we can't see him,' sneered Zhivkin.
'If the Leader doesn't get a move on soon, Jabez will perish. Look at him.' Kodrob waved vaguely at the angel who was looking down at the ground, eyes unfocused. 'Then Heaven will get really angry.' His dart pierced the wall above the troll's shoulder.
'Nah, angels are tougher than that. He's just malingering,' replied Zhivkin. 'I'm going to get stuck into him soon and have some fun with him. I've never heard an angel scream but I think the time for that is approaching. Got some old techniques I want to try out again. Matter of fact, think I'll have a little play now.' Zhivkin stood up and took a small set of pliers and a file from his pocket.
'I'm going to break his perfect front teeth and scrape the nerves inside. Let's see how loud he hollers.'
'No,' shouted Kodrob, a bit too urgently.
'What do you mean, no?' Zhivkin glared at Kodrob. 'Have you gone soft Captain Kodrob? Your star has been falling for a while, you know?. Bezejel is not your biggest fan any more, savvy? If you get in my way, I may have to ask Bezejel for a promotion. Right now I think I'd get it. Then you know what would happen to you, don't you?'
Kodrob saw the troll hiding behind its fingers. He knew exactly what would happen to him.
'I just mean,' he stammered, 'if Bezejel and the Leader are using him for a negotiation, they may not want him seriously damaged.'
'Oh I'm not going to damage him seriously, Captain, not yet anyway. But who's to say his teeth didn't get hurt when I kicked him out of his machine. I don't remember anyone making a list of his injuries when he got here. Anyway, I captured him so I've got rights over him, that's always been Hell's law. If you nick it, you own it. Now stand out of the way, Captain.'
'I know you've got rights Zhiv, but it would be a pity to torture him without an audience. Why not get a group of demons in here and have a party? Or get him to a public place, like the Banshee lake and make him holler and cry there? It would be good for morale. You could sell tickets to watch it and make a whole stash of diesel.'
Zhivkin stroked his chin. He looked at Kodrob closely, searching his face for any sign of a trick.
'Hmm. Maybe,' he said. 'But we'll have to do it quick, before he gets repatriated back to his home.'
He thought for a minute.
'All right,' he said. 'It's a deal. Let's spread the word. Tell everyone you know and we'll get a crowd there, tomorrow. I'll organise a cross so we can stick him up on it. That always gets a laugh. I'll bring my other toys too, a lorry battery and some wire. And some pliers to pluck him with. Nice one, Kodrob, good thought.'
Then before Kodrob could stop him, Zhivkin swung around towards Jabez and aimed a kick at his good wing. 'I hate you arrogant filth,' he snarled. 'I'll pull out all your fancy feathers and burn them. Tomorrow.'
Jabez groaned with the sudden pain and his body arched. Zhivkin spat on the prostrate angel who was now breathing in clear discomfort.
Kodrob took Zhivkin by the arm and hurried him to the door. 'I'll meet you in the morning to finalise plans,' he said in a whisper. 'Don't tell Bezejel till it's all organised or she might try and stop it.'
Zhivkin smiled and punched Kodrob in the arm, 'Till then' he agreed. 'I'm off to the squawhouse, see you later.'
Yaumati Police Station, Kowloon
Dan Kelly was at the end of a busy overnight shift. Any crimes reported to the station during the previous 24 hours were the responsibility of his team to investigate, categorise, distribute and follow-up.
Distributing or 'batting' as it was known was a favourite game of detective inspectors. If you could show that a crime had occurred in another station's district you could 'bat it' in their direction and so relieve yourself of a lot of work.
Some DIs had won a reputation for their laziness and willingness to bat cases to other stations, no matter what the distress caused to the public who often had to spend hours waiting to give a statement only to be told they had to go to another district of Kowloon and repeat the process.
Dan, however, had rarely batted a case in his entire 5 year career in the RHKP, much to the disappointment of his overworked team who rarely got off shift on time.
Now Dan had gone a stage further and taken an active interest in all things Brother.
On top of the regular caseload of bag snatchings, heroin dealing, street robberies, factory thefts and gangland violence he was building up a file on Brother's operations throughout Kowloon. Dan was now copied on any and all reported crimes where Brother involvement was suspected. His dossier was filling up fast.
Dan finished typing up his reports into all the day's cases and handed them to Liu Jai for copying. He barely had time to pick up his cold coffee cup and drink from it.
Detective Sergeant Tung walked purposefully through from the CID reception room into Dan's office.
'Sir, CID Kwun Tong are trying to send us a case of kidnapping and extortion. They say it's a Brother case and they think we've agreed to take anything related to Brother. We're getting snowed under with new cases and the team is getting fed up. You must resolve this or we'll lose the team. There are plenty of under-staffed CID squads who'd happily take our guys. Sir, do you understand?'
'I know, Ah Tung. I have not agreed to take all Brother cases, so you can politely tell DI Chan Man-wai in Kwun Tong to put his cricket bat away and stop bowling us googlies, if you follow my meaning. But what I have done is arranged to meet my old teacher Pete Richards in Kowloon HQ in about an hour. I'm going to ask him if he can lend us some resources. 'Bout time we passed some work to them instead of the other way round, don't you think?'
'Sir,' replied Ah Tung, unconvinced.
An hour later Dan gratefully picked up the burning hot cup of decaf coffee that Detective Superintendent Pete Richards had placed on the table in front of him. After a sleepless 24 hour duty he was looking forward to a date with his duvet. A decaffeinated drink would help make that meeting worthwhile.
'Dan, great to see you,' Pete offered him a cigarette. 'How are the bright lights of
Yaumati keeping you?'
Dan declined the cigarette. 'Yaumati must be the busiest place on the planet. I just love it, there's always so much going on,' he enthused.
'And you've come to thank me for my brilliant teaching at training school and the perfect preparation I and the other staff gave you for your role, that right?'
'Astonishing, how did you know I travelled right across Kowloon and gave up my morning to come and tell you that?' replied Dan, smiling.
'Aw, I get used to old students praising me up,' said Pete. 'What's great is they never want me to do anything for them. They never come all the way to Kowloon HQ and try to put a monkey on my back or ask me for favours. OK, well I have to get off to another meeting. Thanks for dropping by.' He pretended to stand up.
'Well, actually,' said Dan hesitantly.
'What? You don't mean to tell me you're going to break the trend and ask me to do some work for you, do you?'
'Ask you to do some work? Oh, Heaven forbid, I know work isn't your thing.' Dan held up his hands.
'Sarcasm will get you nowhere, young Inspector.'
'No, seriously,' replied Dan, realising his joke might backfire. 'It's not so much about work, it's just an enquiry really.'
'Shoot.' Pete sat down again.
'Well, it's just that one of the triad societies in our neighbourhood, Brother to be precise, appears to be getting its head and shoulders well in front of all the others. I just wondered if anyone was monitoring the situation from a headquarters point of view, you know, with a colony-wide strategic approach. Or even if any of your partners like FBI or Interpol had ever mentioned them. We're getting reports that an English woman has joined them and I was wondering if there was any signal that they're going international.'
Pete Richards sat back in his chair, suddenly intent.
'Well, that is interesting,' he said slowly.
'It is?'
