by Andy Hyland
“I’ve got to ask,” she said, as she finished. “How did you end up between two buildings that freakishly collapsed? We see some weird stuff these days, but either that’s a massive case of bad timing, or…no, you’re clearly not going to tell me.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Couple of hours at most. Young mom out for a walk with her kid phoned in the accident. Took an hour or so to dig you out. Got a cop here who insisted we put you in a private room. I don’t like upsetting the police unless I really have to, so here you are. Got a mind to have you stay for a day, run some tests, make sure we’ve not missed anything.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll be going. Great work. You should be proud.”
“What is it about men? You get brought in here for a reason, you know. Just because you wake up all happy and the tests come out blank, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be careful.”
Something clicked. Worth a try. “You know Zack Preston, by any chance?”
She blushed slightly. “We’ve met. Why do you ask? Are you related?”
“You could say that. We share the same amazing ability to recover quickly.”
“Well. Tell him I said hi. And that I will be waiting for him to call. Stay here. There’s someone who’ll want to talk to you before you go.” She scribbled on a piece of paper and put it on the bedside table. “That’s my number, in case he’s conveniently lost it. I mean it. He calls, or I track him down.”
She left, and I found my clothes in a bag under the bed. Dusty and ripped, but serviceable, for the moment at least. Might have to go shopping soon. I was doing up my belt when the guy walked in. Smart trousers, casual jacket and scuffed shoes. Holster showing as he closed the door behind him. Black wavy hair topping a narrow face with a day’s worth of stubble. “Malachi English, right?”
“You got me. Cop, right?”
“Not hard to spot, is it? Got some stuff of yours I figure you didn’t want the nurses getting hold of. Especially that nasty sharp thing.”
He tossed a bag on the bed. Inside was my knife, wallet, and a considerable amount of cash. “We went through it, but you’ve got my word nothing was taken.”
“I’ll have to trust you. I hadn’t counted it yet.”
“Damn,” he grinned. “Wish I’d have known that.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate you keeping this all out of sight, but why the help? I’m free to go, right?”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “I suppose an introduction is in order. Larry. Detective Larry Dialgo.”
“I know a Deputy Inspector Larry Dialgo.” I’d helped his family out with a small possession problem and he’d paid me back with some favors. He had an open mind, and the arrangement suited us both.
“Yeah, that’s my Dad. Larry’s a family name. I’m the third generation male to be inflicted with it. Trust me, there won’t be a fourth.”
“How is your Dad? Have to catch up with him.”
Larry sighed. “Heart problems. Got bad last week. He’s stepped down, retiring, but to listen to him you’d think he’d got a funeral booked in the next few days. He’s started handing out advice like it’s on sale. He was impressed by you, it seems. I’m under strict instructions to maintain the relationship if at all possible. So I’m exploring this strange incident up in Hamilton Heights, stuff collapsing for no reason, guy gets pulled out of the end of an alley, no real damage, thankfully, and I end up stumbling across you. Good time to make the introductions, I think to myself. Dad’ll be pleased.”
“Well, Larry, good to meet you.” I stuck out my hand and we shook. Good grip. Honest. “I appreciate the help. Any time I can return the favor, you go right ahead and -”
“Actually, there is something. Bearing in mind that you’re walking away from this, and no questions are going to be asked about the structural damage to property, or why you’re carrying that knife.”
“Understood. Go on.”
“Got a list here,” he said, pulling a slim notebook from his jacket and tearing out a page from the back. “It’s my naughty list. Three real bastards. Human trafficking – kids. You get what I’m saying?” I nodded. “I don’t know if they’re pulling strings and trading on who they know, or whether they’re throwing huge amounts of money around, but I can’t touch them. They’re heads of big corporations. Carry a lot of weight in town.”
He passed me the page. I considered it for a moment. “I’m not going to investigate this for you – if you’re sure, you’re sure. But I can find someone who’ll act on it. You know what that will involve, right? And you really want me to do it?”
He looked up at me and his eyes were cold. “I understand. And I want them taken care of, with extreme prejudice. It won’t be looked into, you get me?”
“That’s….unusual.”
“Trust me. There’s some stuff going down that we’re dealing with that’s keeping us more than busy. Can’t talk about it, not yet. But I might come calling.”
“I see. Then I’ll do what I can for you. And now I’m out of here.”
*
It was about three when I hit the streets. I looked back at Lenox Hill hospital and nodded. Good place. And, thanks to Larry having a quiet word, free of charge. I was stiff and sore, but nothing that wouldn’t pass. My phone informed me that Zack had tried getting hold of me eleven times. I gave him a call back to let him know everything was fine, and arranged to meet at Mercy’s place in a few hours. Then I made a call to Arabella, to find out the known whereabouts of a certain somebody. She sounded busy, but had the info I needed.
Nothing I could do now until rush hour so I headed home for a change of clothes, and to dump the cash. Between Anton’s payment and Julie’s envelope there must have been five grand in my pockets, which is a bit too much for comfort. Once back, I collapsed on the sofa and threw it all onto the coffee table. Few things in life are quite as sweet and relaxing as counting money not currently earmarked for any bills.
After getting cleaned up and microwaving some food, I was flicking through the pile in Julie’s envelope, mostly twenties and fifties, when a few of the notes moved oddly, not quite right. Backtracking, there was a small slip of paper tucked away. A few words, hastily scribbled: “Don’t call me. I’ll be in touch. Promise.” At the end she’d drawn a little heart.
I sat there staring at it for over a minute. It was without a doubt the best news, the best anything, I’d had in the last couple of weeks. But I was getting mixed signals here. My hand reached for my phone, before I remembered that calling was exactly what the note had asked me not to do. Damn it. There was nothing to do now but to keep as busy as possible. Letting this spin round my mind would drive me crazy.
The sun was coming up. If I walked part of the way and made good time, then I’d be able to catch a certain person before she started work. Better get moving.
Midtown was busy, even at this early hour. Exhausted minions who’d worked till past midnight and then gone home to change were now heading back to the banks, pasty-faced and heads down. You had to wonder why they were doing it. Throwing away their lives in the hope of one day having enough spare cash to not have to do that kind of work any longer. To buy homes they’d never spend time in, providing for families that they never got to see. There’s a monumental break in the logic of all that, to my mind. But maybe I’m not corporate material.
Neither, in theory, was the girl I was here to see. I grabbed a coffee from a mobile coffee bar and loitered, watching the human traffic ebb and flow. Finally, I caught sight of her. Tanned skin, black hair cut into a tight bob, and a pencil skirt that broadcast the sway of her hips as she moved. I waved, and her smile lit up.
“Hey, Malachi. Fancy seeing you here. You haven’t got a new job as well, have you?”
“Hey Stacey. No, you’re not going to catch me in a place like this. I’m here to see you. Can we talk?”
She looked at her watch. “I suppose so. Five minutes maybe. Am I in trouble – like, do we have a problem here
?”
“Relax. I need your help with something.”
“Okay. But as much as I like you, Malachi, you start anything and I’ll gut you like a fish.”
I sighed. Stacey was a harpy. In her natural form, she had wings, claws and some pretty fine feathers. But for a long time now she’d kept that side of her out of sight, preferring the effect that her carefully-crafted feminine form had on people. One of the lesser hellkind, but certainly more intelligent than most, she was a loner, keeping out of the political squabbles and focusing on important matters like having fun and where the next meal was coming from. When the Fades started shifting a few weeks back, she’d come Earth-side and worked a succession of secretarial and admin jobs. They were short-lived. Once she established a target, seduced him and had a good meal, she moved on before any questions were asked. Sooner or later, someone would catch on to what she was doing – the trail of bodies would get too long. But, for now, she was happy.
“So how’s it going?” I asked as we walked.
“Oh, so-so. To be honest I’m getting bored. It’s been a nice break, but I hear the Fades has gotten very interesting. I’ll head back soon, check it out, get a new place sorted.”
“Need a favor, before you go.”
“We’re trading favors now? That’s new. I thought we just had a running agreement to stay out of each other’s way.”
“Things change. Anyway, it’ll help you as much as it helps me, so nothing’ll be owed at the end of it.” I passed her the torn page that Dialgo had given me at the hospital. “You know these three? Big in this part of town, I hear.”
She looked it over, and ran a long red-nailed finger down the names. “Him I’ve met. Shifty. This one…got an interview there tomorrow. And this last one…heard of the firm, but the name doesn’t ring a bell. I can do some digging, though. What do you want?”
“I want you to meet them, introduce yourself. Then take them out and have fun with them.”
“You saying what I think you’re saying?” she asked, flashing me a wide smile.
“Get high with them. They’ve got it coming. No questions will be asked.”
“Malachi, you never cease to amaze me. You’re probably my favorite human. For now.”
“Don’t get used to it. See you around.”
“Wait,” she said, her face turning serious. She glanced around, then pulled a small piece of metal, laced with hair. Silvian knot – a psychic shield that would buy you a few minutes of complete privacy from anyone snooping by magical means. She took both ends and gave a twist, activating it.
“What’s up?”
“Something’s going on, wondered if you knew about it. Two of my order – Solera and Gwyna – they’ve been Earth-side for years now. When I came over, we got back in touch. Then they went quiet on me, Solera first. I found her yesterday in her loft.” She paused, trying to find the words, deal with the images. “Someone carved out her heart and cut off her hands. Then spread her out naked in the middle of the floor. I still haven’t tracked down Gwyna, but I’m worried. You heard of anything like this going down? I know we fight sometimes, my kind and yours, but not like this.”
I hesitated, unsure of how much to tell her. But she’d been open with me, so I took the risk. “I’m looking into something similar. Someone’s moving on the Aware, laying them out like you’ve described. Brutal stuff. Any leads on Gwyna?”
“No. She moves around, shacks up with her targets for a bit.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open. You need to be careful. I’ve seen evidence of torture. If they got Solera to talk…”
She nodded and waved the page at me. “I’ll get this done, then I’m gone. And if you find Gwyna…”
“I’ll tell you. And you keep me up to date as well. Before you go,” I pointed at my teeth, “you’ve got some smeared lipstick. Here.”
“Oh, thanks sweetie,” she smiled, licking it away from her front tooth. “But that’s not lipstick. That was breakfast. See you around, Malachi.”
Mercy and Zack were both waiting when I made my way down to the underground cavern. Liberty was there as well, leaning back on a chair, feet on a table, reading one of the last remaining books that lay scattered on the shelves.
“So what news?” I asked.
Zack looked up. “You sound…happy. What’s happened?”
I wasn’t aware of sounding or coming across any different than I’d been the past few days, but clearly happy vibes were going on somewhere. “Got some good news,” I said, waving away the question. “No biggie. Come on, what did you find?”
“It’s not good. You gave me two names. Tracked both of them down, but I was way too late. All the same stuff going on as we found in Scorpio’s place.”
Mercy nodded. “This is a worrying development.”
“I only got as far as Marvin,” I said, and filled them in on my visit to his hidden lab. “We’re going to need to get that cleared up. Do you have anyone who knows their way around potions?”
Mercy nodded. “There is someone I can use for that. She can deal with the body while she’s there, as well. What about the other name, the one you didn’t trace?”
“If he’s on this list,” I replied, looking over at Liberty, “then I’m guessing it’ll be a wasted trip. Send someone to clean up. Not me – I’m busy.. And there’s something else.” I told them about my conversation with Stacey. Mercy’s eyes narrowed at the thought of me sharing my morning coffee with hellkind, but Zack nodded along. He knew who I was talking about, even though I named no names, and he knew the score.
“So we’ve got a third party,” Mercy said flatly. “They’re targeting both us and the hellspawn. This is new. I’ll start asking questions.”
“Could be different killers,” Zack suggested, but everyone else in the room shook their heads. “Or maybe not. Yeah, the odds aren’t pointing that way, are they? What now?”
“I’ll keep you informed,” said Mercy, tapping her cane. “I need to be leaving. So do you all. You may stay if you wish, of course,” she added, nodding deferentially to Liberty.
“No, you’re good,” he said, standing up and adjusting his coat. “I need a word with Malachi anyway. Let’s walk.”
He made small talk at first, waiting until we were above ground before getting round to his point. “This newfound, expanded capacity you’ve got,” he said slowly, “on the magic front, I mean. Have you given any thought to how it happened?”
“You could say that, yes.”
“Easy. I don’t mean just wondering about it. I mean, have you made an effort, have you nailed down the possibilities one by one? There was the bomb, the beacon, the Aleph, Edwin Monk himself – a massive amount of energy in a very small space. You’d make headway in controlling your casting if you knew what happened back then.”
“Maybe I don’t want to know.”
“And that,” he said, winking at me, “is where the problem starts. Get onto it, lad. I can’t afford to have someone as useful as you going round half-useless. Now I’ll leave you here. Thanks for your work.”
He turned without another word and peeled off towards the docks. “Plans?” I asked Zack. “Damn, I nearly forgot. Ran into a redheaded doctor. You need to call her, or there could be trouble.” I passed him the number.
“Yeah, didn’t get round to that yet. How’d you meet her?”
“Long story. Look, I’m heading to Benny’s. Coming?”
“Tempting, but there’s a new shipment of stock arriving. Most of it’s sold already, so I’m spending the day with boxes and packaging tape. Then I’ll sit back and watch the money flying into the bank account.”
“Sweet. Don’t go getting any paper cuts.”
“I’ll try. And hey, what happened to your face?”
I touched my lips. Still sore. “I’ll be honest. No idea. But I’m hoping I’ll find out soon.”
Chapter six
I slid, ending up in a different place than before, but found Benny’s easy enough now t
hat I knew where it was parked. It was eerie being in this alternate Manhattan, the streets empty, the buildings close to falling. Like the graveyard of a city, a post-human apocalyptic ghost town. But ghosts were not a problem in the grand scheme of things, and there were bound to be worse things than that stalking around the streets. I kept moving.
Benny’s was quieter this time round. There’d be no problem getting a table. A guy called Alex was serving at the bar, some waif that Benny had taken in and given a temporary home to. He’d done the same for me, years back. And for Julie, far more recently, of course. Sometimes these adopted bar staff liked to talk, get things off their chest. Alex was cagy. He was some kind of failed actor. A close brush with stardom, a combined drugs and tax scandal, a failed suicide attempt later, and here he was, trying to get used to a whole new life. Quite interesting, actually. I was up for talking more, but everything about him was saying ‘sod off and leave me alone,’ so I did.
If Benny wasn’t at the bar, the back room was the next port of call. I knocked and waited, but all I got was a shouted order to go and wait out front. If things carried on like this, the reputation for a welcoming place to drink was going disappear pretty damn quick.
I grabbed a table and had a look around. A couple of familiar faces, but nobody I knew well enough to head over and start a conversation with. That was the trouble with being part of a group of dysfunctional social rejects – every now and then you’d feel chatty, and there was nobody to go to. Movement over at the far side of the bar made me look up. It was one of the gargoyles – Tusky. No sign of Four-eyes, who’d so lovingly butted me. Tusky grinned and pointed a knowing finger, then went back to lapping up whatever was in the saucer in front of him.
“Speak of the devil,” someone said behind me. He stepped past, pulled out a chair and sat down, legs straight out and arms folded. Worn leather waistcoat and trousers, and pulsing runic tattoos that ran up his bare arms. He took off his wide hat and put it on the table. “Malachi English. Probably a good job I found you, I think.”
