Marty Phillips (Book 1): Life Slowly Faded

by Double, Kieran

  “Yeah. This doesn’t look good. If he comes for Susie, I’m afraid there’s not much we can do. Merkel’s men are professional and experienced men. We’ll have to get protection for her. There’s no way we can just leave you to protect her alone.”

  “Is that supposed to be an insult?”

  “No, Marty. Look, I know you think you can take on the world. But think about this clearly, about Susie’s safety. You could probably take Merkel, but ten of them, no way. Don’t do that to her.”

  “Fine, but those unis won’t be that much use. You know what they’re like. Nervous, jumpy.”

  “I’ve put a protective detail outside Susie’s school, and Ashley’s got some Katzevolk – that’s cat people – and Fuchsvolk hanging around. Seattle Public Schools have been informed. They’ve put their security on high alert. But you’re right Muller, if he comes for her, Merkel will take Susie.”

  I took a sip of my coffee, leaning back. “But he won’t come for her. You saw the sign. It’s as much about me, as it is about his daughter now. Taking her at the school would be too impersonal. My apartment is probably the place. Maybe we should move into Ashley’s. We could keep them out longer there.”

  Schlaukopof sighed. “She’s not likely to let a Wolfmann in her house, even if it is just a little girl. I’ll give you a few numbers; Bärinvolk that you can trust. They’re the nearest thing to Wolfvolk we have. Not as dangerous to us, but that’s only because they are less bloodthirsty. You never want to piss off a Bärinmann, never.”

  Just about then, my cell rang. I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello, this is Marty Phillips.”

  “Mr. Phillips, you’re fostering Susie Merkel?” The voice was feminine, professional. A secretary.

  “Yes, for the moment,” I said, walking out into the hallway. “Who is this?”

  “This is her school, Mr. Phillips. Susie bit another student’s finger this morning. Can you come here right away? We need to deal with this properly.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as possible.” I didn’t go back to tell Muller or Schlaukopf. I needed to get to Susie and quickly. I didn’t know what a Wolfmann, or Wolffrau, or whatever the hell she was, was capable of, even at her age.

  “Mr. Phillips, I hope you understand how serious this is. Susie could have severely injured the other girl. As it is, she will have to get stitches” said the principal, in that teacher-ish way – when they tried to give out while sounding like they weren’t.

  I waited until the principal was gone before speaking. “What the girl do, Susie?”

  “Does it matter? They don’t listen anyway,” said Susie. I heard something in her voice that I hadn’t heard before. Her father’s voice. He’d spoken to me like that. And her Wolf-ness flared up as she spoke, as his must have. Susie Merkel was dangerous.

  “Well, I do. What happened?”

  “She got what she deserved. No one mocks me and gets away with it.”

  “Yes, but biting her? Couldn’t you have...?”

  “What? Punched her instead. That’s a lot better, isn’t it, Marty? Or talked to her. Words only get you so far in this world, only so far.”

  “I know, but…”

  “But what, Marty?” shouted Susie. She changed again, an image of pure fury. “There is no but.”

  “Susie…”

  “This conversation is over,” she said sulkily. “I’ll talk about it later.”

  “Fine.”

  I drove Susie home in the Jag, then my phone rang. It was Trix. “What?”

  “Marty… I need your help. Come here quick,” she answered, her voice shaking with fear.

  “What is it? What’s wrong, Trix?”

  “Not now. Just get over here. This is my address…” I wrote down the address she gave me, then turned to Susie. “You’ll be alright on your own for a few hours?”

  “Sure, Marty,” she answered, but she could not assuage my guilt.

  I pulled up on the street outside of Trix’s apartment block. She ran out from the sidewalk, a girl who looked about fifteen following. Her daughter. Trix got in the passenger side. Her daughter got in the back. “You’ve a daughter?”

  “Yep. Not a crime, is it? ”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “I’m a bloody prostitute, Marty. You think I knew what contraception was when I started? Now. Let’s go,” Trix said, pulling on her seatbelt.

  I turned the keys. “Where we going?”

  “Somewhere safe.”

  “Safe from what?”

  “My pimp.”

  “Who?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Trix, I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

  “No, you don’t. Just get us somewhere safe. Please.”

  “Fine. I’ll take you to my sister’s.”

  9

  Lying

  ‘Little Red-cap’ replied the wolf. ‘She is bringing cake and wine; open the door’ (Little Red-Cap/Red Riding Hood)

  We were driving out of Seattle, in the suburbs, Mount Rainier far above us. I kept the power the down. The Jag was delightful even at a slow speed. I needed time to think.

  Then a big jeep came out of apparently nowhere. It rammed into us. The Jag swerved sideways, off the road. I heard the crunch, wincing. My car… my beautiful car.

  But then they were on us. Three men. I looked up properly. Brilliant. Their faces had lion’s manes. That must be Löwenvolk. Jesus. Were the Verstecktvolk everywhere? They started firing, automatic, sub-machine gun fire. I swore. We were in for hell. The jeep just kept coming. There must have been a fourth man in the front of the jeep.

  I pulled out the Python, popping off shots. Nothing seemed to happen. I concentrate on one man. My vision blurring, I pulled the trigger three more I shot again. times. Two hit their mark. He faltered. He was dying. Just not fast enough. I aimed for his the head. He stumbled, then fell, dead.

  Looking at Trix, I saw she had gone limp. I grabbed her by the shoulder. Nothing. I turned back to her daughter. “Look after your mother.”

  I stumbled out of the Jag, ran to the trunk, and pulled out the Winchester. Working quickly, I pushed five cartridges into the mag. I turned. They were on us. I blindly aimed towards the head. I pulled the trigger. The man fell back. I pulled the bolt back, loaded another cartridge into the gun. I turned again, towards the second man, nearer now. Only inches away. I didn’t have time to aim. The neck would have to do. His neck exploded in blood, but he kept coming. We wrestled for control of his gun.

  He was strong, but I could die. For some reason, that spurred me on. I had long ceased even thinking about wanting to live. But when death came so near, I realized I didn’t want to die. Maybe life was shit, but it was better than nothing. I fought back. I pushed forward, twisting the gun around. Trying to pull the trigger, I succeeded only in losing the gun and falling down on my backside. I tore the Glock out of its holster. My training kicked in. Aim for the center of the body. I did and kept pulling the trigger until the man fell on top of me twitching.

  I hauled myself up the side of the E-Type. I looked at Trix’s daughter. “Will she be alright?”

  “She’ll survive.” I could see Trix coming to, as if drunk.

  “Good,” I muttered, pissed. Someone had wrecked my Jag, my grandfather’s Jag. I had to find out who did that and I had to kill them. If Merkel was behind this… yet another reason to kill him. I was beginning to wonder if he had a death-wish.

  I opened the front door of the Bergman mansion. Trix and her daughter followed me in. Ashley appeared from nowhere, same as usual. “Marty?”

  “I’ll explain, Ashley,” I said, sighing and pulling Trix into the parlor.

  “Marty, who the hell is that woman?”

  “A friend. She needs help,” I said. “Can she and her daughter stay here for a few days?”

  “Why?”

  “She’s in danger.”

  “What kind of danger?”

  “You always have to know everything don
’t you? It doesn’t matter.”

  “Marty! I don’t even know her name, and you want me to let her stay in my house for a few days. Our Den. That’s dangerous. Even you should know that.”

  “But, Ashley… they need our help. You’re the bloody Assistant Attorney. Isn’t this your kind of gig?”

  She sighed. “Fine. What’s her name?”

  “Trix.”

  “Trix? Trix what? What kind of name is that, anyway?”

  “I don’t know her second name.”

  Ashley looked very annoyed again. “Marty! How well do you know her?”

  “Well, enough.”

  Her eyebrows raised. “Well, enough? When did you meet her?”

  “Two years ago. Soon after Annie’s death,” I said, my throat dry. “She helps me in some of my cases.”

  “How?”

  “Ashley…”

  She stood on my foot. “I said how?”

  “I pay her to give me information. You know… from the streets. She knows people out and about.”

  “She’s a fucking prostitute, isn’t she?”

  I sighed. “She might be.”

  “No,” Ashley said, stamping down on my foot again. “Not under my roof. Not that scum. Get her out, now!”

  “No, Ashley. I won’t. She’s a good person. Look, I know… with Brian and all. But that isn’t their fault. Do really, honestly, think that women chose this life? You’re supposed to understand things like this. You’re a government employee, and not a bloody racist police officer. For god’s sake, what Brian did is his fault. Not the woman’s.”

  “Fine.”

  “Ashley?”

  “I said fine,” Ashley said angrily, storming away. She hadn’t even bothered to take me up on the fact I knew what Brian had done. That was enough to tell me she was devastated.

  “We welcome here, Marty?” asked Trix.

  “Not really. My sister took a bit of convincing. But you should be alright,” I answered, reassuring myself as much as Trix. She was not a woman of doubt. “Ashley promised to let you stay, and whatever she thinks, she won’t kick you out. You have my word.”

  “Your word? You’re a fucking PI. Your word is shit,” she said, laughing.

  “And yours is much better?”

  “Point taken,” she admitted. Then she pulled a bottle of Jack out of her coat. “Just a little bribe.”

  I muttered. “Keep that for later.”

  “Why?”

  “Not here. Ashley won’t let me drink here. I’m on Coca-Cola duty.”

  Trix smirked at me, nudging my ribs. “‘Course, you are.”

  I looked at her daughter. “What’s your name?”

  “Hilary,” came the brittle answer. Her real name, I guessed. If she had plans on street-walking, she hadn’t started yet.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, holding out my hand. There was a hesitation on her part. I held out longer. She answered my call eventually. “Your mother failed to mention you, it seems. Spending too much time buying me measures of bourbon.”

  “Yeah.” I got the impression Hilary was very shy. Her upbringing probably didn’t help.

  I paused. “Trix?”

  “Marty?”

  “You’re going to have to tell me why you’re in danger? Just a few clues. Because, and I hate to say this, but you’re a devious little bitch, and I haven’t got a clue why you need my help. It also dawns on me that knowing your real name might help.”

  “Gee, thanks, Marlowe” smiled Trix. It fell away as quickly as it came. “I’m running from my pimp.”

  “What did you do?” By this stage, I could see where her story was going. Merkel had wanted to use her to get to me. All of this was my fault. No, it really wasn’t and Trix would have hit me if I suggested so. Her page from Merkel’s book – still in my jacket – was burning a hole in my pocket.

  “Nothing. He’s just pissed at me.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, there are… a few other reasons. He’s got a grudge against you. He wanted to set up an ambush with me as bait. I told him to fuck off. Not my brightest moment.”

  “His name. The name of your pimp?”

  “I’m not telling you that.”

  “Trix, please? I can’t help me if you don’t let me.”

  “No, not yet,” she answered softly.

  I gave up. What was the point? I knew who her pimp was. Perhaps it was better that she didn’t know that I did. She was a tricky customer. Giving her too information could be dangerous.

  “And your name?” She whispered it to me. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, Marlowe.” She looked at me sideways. “Marty! You’re bleeding!”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Marty! One of the bullets must have grazed you. Come here, you idiot.” She produced the bourbon again. “At least we have a use for this now. Phillips! Get in here. You’re brother’s about to kill himself.”

  Ashley appeared, just as I felt the pain for the first time. Adrenaline couldn’t protect me anymore. And it wasn’t a graze. It was a full flesh wound. A 9mm bullet had lodged itself in my shoulder. There was barely a hole in my jacket or shirt. I had collected few other scars in the car crash. I cursed. Trix shoved the bottle in my face, I swallowed. Ashley sighed.

  “Marty! What happened? Granddad’s Jag is wrecked. He’d kill you if he saw it.”

  “We were attacked, Ashley. Four men in a jeep. They rammed the Jag off the road. I killed three of them.”

  “You what?” Ashley exclaimed incredulously. “Marty, even Schlaukopf won’t be able to make that slide. Three people”

  “Relax,” I said, putting my uninjured arm on her shoulder. “Schlaukopf deputized me. They attacked us. I’m in the right.”

  “Right. Off to hospital. Don’t argue, Marty,” said Trix. “Phillips, can we come with you?”

  Ashley hesitated. “Sure.”

  We didn’t leave immediately. Ashley wouldn’t let us. She said Trix was lying to us. I’d told her Trix’s real name, and she had disappeared off somewhere to check something. Maybe she had some resources that she didn’t tell me about. I argued with her, away from Trix and Hilary. “About what?” I fumed.

  “Something.”

  “Something? You have to give me more, Ashley” I was really starting to get very frustrated with her.

  “I… think she knows…”

  “Knows what?”

  “What we are?”

  “A Rotkäppchen and a Huntsmen,” she said.

  “How? I can’t see anything,” I said. “Can you?”

  “No, I can’t. She’s not Verstecktvolk.”

  “Then how could she know?”

  “She could be Sehervolk,” I said. “She was getting chased by Löwenvolk.”

  “That could just be a coincidence. And what’s Sehervolk?”

  “One of the seeing-people, like us, the Huntsmen. I explained this to you before. Don’t you ever pay attention?”

  “What like the Nobles you mentioned?” I said, the information coming back to me now.

  Ashley bit her lip. “Yeah, like them.”

  “That bad?”

  “Only if she’s a Noble. Anything else, it won’t matter.”

  “What’s wrong with being a Noble?”

  Ashley sighed at me, the way she normally did. The retarded Marty sigh. “They’re dictators, Marty. That’s why.”

  “If you’re wrong, she’ll think you’re mad.”

  “I’m not wrong.”

  We went in together. Ashley did the talking. “You’re not being honest with us, whore. Tell us the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “About what you are.” Ashley was not about to give up easily. She never did. That had to be said for her.

  “What am I?”

  “You tell me.”

  “What do you want?”

  “You know what we are, what are you two?”

  Finally, Trix gave up. She sighed, looking away as if
she was ashamed to meet our acquaintance. “You’re Huntsmen.”

  “And you? I don’t know you. I know all the Sehervolk in Washington. I’ve got a register of all of them. Neither of you are on it. What the hell are you?”

  Trix didn’t answer. It looked like she was crying.

  “Whore, answer me!”

  I grabbed Ashley, pulling her back. “Don’t you dare call her that.”

  “I’ll call her what I want to. It’s not my fault she’s got no fucking morals,” said Ashley. My memory tells me that she was verging on hysterics, but that doesn’t seem right in hindsight. I don’t remember her ever being on the edge of hysterics. Not my sister, no way. I’ve been reading too many of those 1930s noir novels. “Why the hell are you protecting her? What is she to you? You been sleeping with her?”

  “No, I haven’t, Ashley. Annie…”

  “Oh, come on. She’s dead, Marty. Are you telling me you’ve been celibate for the past two years? Not even once? That doesn’t sound like you, before Annie. You’re single again. Act like it. Not even one woman?”

  “There was one,” I muttered. “But I don’t see why it’s such a big deal. I don’t have to be some slick ladies’ man if I don’t want to be.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Ashley…”

  “Marty!”

  “Sylvie Merkel,” I answered, my voice dry. She probably wanted me

  “Sylvie bloody Merkel! A Wolffrau!”

  “I didn’t know it then. And she was a Reformed Wolffrau, or Wolfmann, whatever it is. It’s not the same.”

  “It doesn’t matter what kind of Wolffrau she was. Merkel was a Wolffrau. Scum. They’re all the same.”

  “No, they’re not. Are you trying to tell me little Susie is evil?”

  “Yes, Marty, she is. You can’t trust a word that comes out of any of their mouths. You don’t understand.”

  “Can you even hear yourself?” I said angrily. “You sound like a bloody racist, a fucking fascist. You can’t judge one person for the sins of their people. The world doesn’t work like that, Ashley. I thought you knew better.”

  She slapped me furiously. “You have no idea what our world is like, Marty. No idea. I do.” Ashley turned to Trix. “You’re a fucking Noble, aren’t you? You did this to him. Answer me!”