by Andy Hyland
This was our serial killer. Our shadow. And we were the ones that were going to have to deal with it.
We walked downtown in the late morning sun to grab some lunch. Not that we had an appetite, but energy levels were getting low, and a night’s worth of beer and wine can only take you so far. That’s empty calories for you, I guess.
“So that’s our explanation,” Zack said, as we checked out a menu outside a new Italian place.
“Part of it. Explains the assault, but I can’t see our smoky killer making off with Scorpio’s knife collection. Or interrogating Marvin.”
“So it’s being controlled. By someone who comes along and finishes the job?”
“That’s my guess.” I pulled the photo of Alice out of my pocket. “And someone on the inside has now decided to help us out.”
“The warning came too late.”
“Or maybe it wouldn’t have done,” I said, “if we hadn’t been so wasted.”
“They could have woken us up.”
“Yeah, I don’t get why they didn’t either. There’s too much here that we’re in the dark about. But someone’s going around murdering the Aware.”
“And hellkind. If we think Stacey’s friends are connected.”
“I’m thinking they are.”
“What do you want to do now?”
I thought about it. “Heard from Arabella?”
“No. She’s not returning my calls.”
“Find her. Something’s not sitting right about her and Valen. Maybe it’s nothing, but I’d rather know exactly what they’re up to. If she’s even with him. If she’s not, it’s all good and I can stop worrying.”
“Consider it done. What are you up to?”
“Couple of things to follow up. Keep your phone on. If anything kicks off, it could be at short notice.”
*
It was at least another six hours before I could meet Mercy again and see if she’d had any joy looking into Ellen Lamarchand. Still, didn’t stop me doing my own research. There was a library with computer access down on East 34th Street, off Madison Avenue. Phones are great, but squinting at small text for hours isn’t my idea of fun. From the queue, it looked like I’d picked rush hour. Still, nothing a bit of sweet talking with the librarian couldn’t get me round. She palmed me her number as I sat down at the terminal, giving me a wink. I smiled, winked back, and dropped it on the floor as soon as she’d gone.
Time for a goggle, as Benny would put it. A standard search on ‘Ellen Lamarchand’ didn’t turn up anything beyond a few charity events and obituaries from far-flung parts. I altered the search to ‘Ellen Lamarchand Manhattan’, and the narrow trickle of relevant results dried up completely. As a last ditch attempt I switched the search tab to images, calling up any photos that might hold the mysterious woman.
Mostly useless, but one at the bottom of the page caught my eye. A small gathering of women in what looked like a library. No details next to the image, and the website when I went to it was only a compilation of pictures for some obscure exhibition. But one of the women, near the back on the left – white hair, probably in her sixties. No name, no way of identifying her. She was holding a bouquet of white roses. I dug around trying to call up any data on the image whatsoever, but all I got was the year the photo was taken – 2007. A year forever burned in my memory, because it was the year I was slaved by Molech. So: David, Ellen, the white rose – someone was confirming the family connections to me.
I spent another half hour there, partly because I was trying to kill time, and partly because it was so clearly annoying the guy next in line for access to my terminal. A bad-tempered little ferret of a man with sweat stains under his armpits that seemed to spread before my eyes the longer I made him wait. In the end boredom triumphed over malice, and I gave him the warmest, friendliest smile I could muster as I passed. The librarian got another wink on the way out, and then I was standing on a busy street on a New York afternoon with the throb and pulse of the human traffic breaking around me like a river round a rock.
Still too early for Mercy, and I didn’t want to go all the way down there only to find the door blocked, kicking my heels for however long it took her to get back. My attention was caught by a cop on the other side of the street. He was stopping passersby, flashing a leaflet in their faces. One by one they shook their heads and got away from him as quickly as they could. I wandered over.
“Hey,” said the cop, who turned out to be ridiculously young. They’d obviously sent him out on this errand to keep him out of the way while the real police work went down. “Sir, can you please have a look at this picture?”
“Sure.” A young boy. Eleven, twelve? So hard to tell at that age, but certainly in the borderlands at the end of childhood. Smiling, slightly bucktoothed, hair a mess. “Who is it?”
“Just wondering if you’ve seen him about, Sir.”
“What are your chances of finding someone round here that’s going to recognize him? Did he disappear in this area?”
He glanced around, like he was expecting someone to turn up and save him from this questioning stranger. It was probably much more comfortable being ignored. “I really can’t say, Sir, we’re simply asking…”
“And that’s never going to work, is it? Look, he’s not the only one. How many kids are we talking about here? And what’s the time scale?” His mouth bobbed open and shut like a goldfish. Everything I said was right on the nail. “I’m prepared to help you out here. Look, can you get hold of Larry Dialgo for me? Detective – not sure which precinct.” Must check that sometime.
“I’m sorry Sir, I really have to speak to more people about this.”
I put a hand on his arm. Mistake. His eyes narrowed, as he recognized that finally a situation had turned up that he could deal with. “Sir, I’m going to ask you once to remove your hand.”
“Sure, sure,” I said, throwing my arms up in surrender. “No problem. But look, why isn’t this news? Why haven’t you mobilized the entire damn city going after this?”
“Goodbye Sir.” He turned and walked off, glancing back as he talked into his radio. Time to move.
I tried calling Larry Dialgo on his cell, but the first call got cut off and the second went through to his answerphone. “We need to talk. It’s Malachi.” Short message, but hopefully he’d get the point and call. This wasn’t a time to go mucking about with secrecy and crap like that. On reflection, that attitude smacked slightly of hypocrisy. The thought calmed me. A little.
I grabbed a bagel and headed down to the bay, kicking my heels and thinking too much. Too early for Mercy. Outworld Emporium would have been cool, but that wasn’t part of my life anymore. Central Park – fun, but I wouldn’t want Kevin and Gary, the gruesome twosome of the gargoyle world, to think I was ignoring orders. For a while I stood watching the teams work on Ascension House. The Carafax HQ.
When the blast went along the beam in the Fades, Ascension House was the end point, the terminus, the sole place in this world to feel the effects. News reports speculated for a few days about what exactly happened. Some put it down to a fault in the foundations, but that didn’t explain the pyrotechnics, the vaporization of at least half the building, or the fortuitously neat way it had crumbled rather than toppled. Eventually the story started going round that it was a gas leak. You had to wonder who had the influence, or the money, or both, to get everyone to swallow that line. The same people must have a tight grip on the construction crew, because when they started to dig into the foundations they were going to find some strange shit.
The sun set slowly. I watched the final beams hit Lady Liberty before the dusk settled. If anything, it was only at this time that the city came alive. The day shift stopped and it became the domain of the diners, the drinkers, and the gaudy neon nightlife. Bars bounced into life and the restaurants buzzed. All good, but you only had to go a few streets back from all this to find a place where hellkind would stalk and slash you for money or kicks.
“Penny for
your thoughts?” asked a woman at my shoulder. “Don’t look so shocked,” said Mercy with a smile when I looked round. “I don’t exist solely underground, you know.”
“True, but I think this is the first time I’ve seen you when you weren’t in the cavern. I was about to come and see you. Made some progress on the Ellen Lamarchand side of things. Pretty sure they’re connected, but she’s too old to be his mother, so I’m thinking grandmother, but that would -”
“Stop,” she said, holding up smooth pale hand. “We can’t discuss this.”
“Have you got any idea what‘s going on out there? What and how the Aware are being killed off? I’ve seen it, and it’s nothing we’ve come across before. We need to discuss this and we need to discuss this now.”
“We cannot.”
“Where’s Liberty?”
“He won’t discuss this with you either. It’s actually Liberty that made the ruling. He repeats his instructions from earlier. You’re to move away from the situation. The Union thanks you for your work, but suggests that you lie low for a while. Pass the word round to everyone you’re in contact with. Withdraw, keep your heads down, and take whatever measures you can to protect yourselves.”
“And you can’t tell me anything about Lamarchand?”
She looked away. “I’m under orders. In a way I’m as restricted as you are.”
“So you’re expecting me to back off and do as I’m told?”
She smiled. “Oh Malachi. I don’t expect that at all. But I can’t help you. I suggest you go home.”
“Too busy for that. It’s all happening out here, in the shadows.”
“Malachi, listen to me carefully. I. Suggest. You. Go. Home. Now, if you would.”
She wouldn’t meet my eyes, just kept staring out into the bay. I nodded. “You know, you’re far more like Simeon than I thought you’d be.”
Chapter ten
I stared up at the windows of my apartment. All dark. No sign of movement. I stretched out but it was as empty to my senses as it seemed to my eyes. A couple were walking away to my left. Something about them seemed familiar, but it was too dark and they were too far away to make any guess at who they were. Even so, I waited until they were out of sight before I crossed the road and went in the main door.
The runes were active and strong on my doorframe, but there was no indication of recent activity. Flicking on the hallway lights, I made my way to the living room. And stared at the coffee table. They’d done it again. Someone or something had got past some major spellwork and left again without leaving a trace. Just a flower – a daisy this time, and a post-it note with two words written in the usual copperplate script. ‘First date’. Well, that was one mystery solved.
I glanced up automatically at the clock on the wall to get my bearings before setting off. Ten o’clock? Couldn’t be right. Nope, my phone was saying ten past nine. I went closer and stood on the sofa. The wall clock wasn’t ticking. I flicked it over. Battery was gone. Another message then.
I grabbed a drink, then headed out and hailed a cab. The driver was Rick, one of my regulars. Not Aware, but someone who knew the score. I picked his brain about missing kids while we headed down.
“You saw that too,” he asked, chewing on gum. “Three cops have flashed pictures at me today. Nah, scrap that – five. Five cops. Three mission boys and one girl.”
“Good looking kids. Happy?”
“Oh yeah. Sucks, you know, the way they only get fussed up about some people? Like we don’t have people going missing every day. Don’t see that much going on about them types. Still, gets to you, you know? Kids like that. You think something’s going down?”
“I’m sure of it. Keep your eyes open. Let me know if you hear anything.” I gave him a twenty as a tip. He was smart and reliable. It was money well spent.
Central Park was peaceful but busy. Couples strolled about hand in hand, while others, grateful for a scenic short-cut, walked quickly along the pathways, more intent on catching up with their email than taking in the scenery. I entered opposite the American History museum and headed south, keeping the lake to my left.
Some of the usual suspect were around, not all of them human, and a few gave a polite nod as we passed. They weren’t my problem or my concern tonight. Uppermost on my mind was avoiding any sort of tail. I built the usual tricks into my route, finding excuses to stop, turn around, change direction. For the moment I was clear.
Ideally I’d have liked to spend a few minutes by the Bethesda fountain, possibly my second favorite landmark, with the Empire State Building coming in first place, of course. But it was always crowded there. Too easy for someone to be watching me without me noticing them. Reluctantly I ducked off Terrace Drive and onto the lesser pathways, heading east before switching north, keeping under the trees to the right of East Drive. On the way I spotted a group of daisies in the grass, and stooped to pick one.
This part of the park was quieter. I took a moment to sense as widely as I could in the immediate vicinity. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Odd. And then I was there. The Alice in Wonderland statue, still beautiful even at night, when there was no more sun to gleam off the bronze. Nobody here. I took a seat on one of the benches, confident that I would hear or sense anyone approaching. I checked my phone. Nine fifty-five. Five minutes to go. But then I could never resist being early for our meetings. My stomach felt suddenly tight and empty. Probably should have had something to eat first. Stop it. I forced myself to focus. Concentrate. Whatever this was about, it wasn’t life carrying on as usual, and I had to be prepared for that.
I was still concentrating and stretching out my senses when her hands closed over my eyes. “Guess who?” she whispered, close to my ear.
“How did you do that?”
“I snuck up on you. It was easy. You weren’t looking.”
“No, it wasn’t easy. It was like you weren’t even there.”
Julie sat next to me on the bench. I gave her the daisy, and she tucked it into her hair, behind her ear. “I know. It’s a gift. Or a curse. Depends which way you look at it.”
“I’d rather spend all night looking at you.” She was dressed all in black, tight jeans and a hoody. The only color came from a small Trueflame logo pin. Despite the easy tone in her voice, her eyes were in constant motion, flicking around. “We’re here for a serious talk, I assume.”
“I think one’s long overdue,” she said, nodding, “but we haven’t got time for that. I need your help.”
I shook my head. “No, you don’t get to do that to me. You come back here without telling me you’ve returned. I only find out when I see you arm in arm with some other guy.” I pause, biting down on the words ‘goatee tosser’, because even I can realize how unhelpful that would be at the moment. “I get sacked from Outworld Emporium – which, by the way, I was never doing for the money – without even a personal goodbye. And now you say we don’t have time to talk about this?”
“I’m sorry, but no, we don’t. I can’t shake them for too long. No idea how they do it.”
“So you’re going to hang on to all your little secrets?”
That touched a nerve. Her eyes lit up as she rounded on me. “My secrets? Bloody hell, Malachi, you’re saying that to me? If you want to talk about secrets, how about we start with what your name really is?”
We sat there staring at each other. “Who have you been talking to?” I said finally.
She looked away. “You don’t have to ask me that, do you?”
“What have they dragged you into? Julie, you don’t have to do it. Walk away. Please, walk away. I can help you. You’ve got money. For pity’s sake, you can -”
“No, I can’t,” she said quietly, placing a finger on my lips. “I need to do this. Because if I don’t, people will die. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Those bastards. I can’t believe they got to you too.”
“They need me. Turns out I’m a rare specimen. Immune to magic. Can’t do any, but I can’t
be affected by it either.”
“That’s how you got into the apartment. Why didn’t you wake me?”
She sighed. “One of the conditions of this job is that I have no contact with you. At all. What we’re doing now is strictly off limits. From now on we pass messages through Mercy.”
“Just her? What about Benny?”
“No. He’d help if I begged, but it’s too risky for him. Too much attention in his direction at the moment. No, don’t ask,” she said, seeing the question in my eyes. “I will tell you, but not now.”
“This isn’t turning out the way I’d hoped.”
“Things never do, do they?”
“So what’s the deal with Lamarchand and Trueflame?” I asked. “How did you find out about Alice True?”
“You found her? I found the photo, heard the name mentioned before the meeting. It was all I could do to sneak it out and get it to you. I’m arm candy – he doesn’t trust me yet. Not fully. Once I can get into the inner circle -”
“She’s dead. We didn’t get to her in time.” She looked at me in horror. For one awful moment I was tempted to tell her how it happened, about the tongue being ripped out, about Alice drowning in her own blood. I’m proud to report that I swallowed the anger and stayed silent on the matter. “She’s not the only one. We’ve got Aware and hellkind being murdered and mutilated. I’ve got no idea how many.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Well, you do now. Why the rose, by the way, the one you left with the photos? It helped, but how did you know?”
“The rose? That was a present. David has them all over the place. I grabbed one on my way out.”
“We got lucky then. Any idea why I’m being told to stay away from this?”
“That’s what’s frustrating me. They won’t let me bring in anyone else, but they won’t do anything, either. I report back, I’ve passed names to them. Nothing happened. I didn’t want to drag you in, put you in harm’s way, but I didn’t know what else…”
