Authors: Ross Harrison
The office’s wall at
the top of the stairs was opaque. Probably see-through from the other side
though. The girl knocked on the door and waited. Just a couple of seconds
passed before a mountainous bald guy opened the door. He had to stoop to see
who was on the other side. I remembered this guy. He was the one who would do
many painful things to me if I didn’t get Van his money. He had a face like a
gorilla. Only white and hairless. Right down to the nose. At some point,
someone had sliced most of that off. I didn’t like looking at him.
I wanted to greet
him with an endearing nickname like ‘Snotty’ or ‘Stinky’, but even I didn’t
find that particularly amusing. And he might pull my arms off. I settled for
giving him as non-aggressive a nod as I could without adding a smile. I didn’t
feel like smiling at a bald gorilla.
His eyes touched on
me first, then flicked to the girl. Then they snapped down to our hands. She
let go. Coming to his door holding this girl’s hand was obviously not the way
into his good books. I didn’t blame him for the torch he was doing such a bad
job of hiding. A kind, gentle aura emanated from this girl to go along with the
looks.
‘Thank you,’ I said
to her. Tried to make it businesslike. Like I saw her as a person who led me to
the door. Not a beautiful, sexy woman whose private parts were about as private
as the bar downstairs.
She smiled at me.
Not the same smile as before. Businesslike. Then she smiled at the gorilla. Warmer.
Kinder. Then she left.
‘The heat’s getting
in,’ a voice called from inside the office. Van’s voice. He didn’t like it
warm.
The gorilla jerked
his head towards the source of the voice and stood to the side of the door. Watched
me as I stepped inside. I nearly grabbed him. Not an attack. A panicked move to
save myself. I was getting jumpy again. The glass floor made my stomach drop. Thought
for a second I was going to drop with it and break my legs.
Below one end was
the stage. That was the only end with glass walls. The rest was a modest grey.
Except for the floor, which was glass all the way along. Most of the office
hung over the top of the dancer’s dressing room. About eight girls were down
there. One was actually dressed. That is to say, she wore a short skirt and a T-shirt
that looked like it belonged to someone half her size.
Two girls drew my
gaze. A brunette sat in a chair, completely naked except for glass high heels.
Her legs were spread. One calf resting on the side of the other girl’s chair,
one resting on the makeup table. The second, blonde girl was carefully
outlining the more intimate parts of the brunette’s body with glow marker.
‘Hello, Jack,’ Van
said.
He’d allowed me
time to get distracted by the girls, oblivious to my watching them. Well, oblivious
until the brunette lay her head back in the chair and spotted me. The gorilla
shoved me forward. His reminder that I should have the manners to answer Van. I
glanced back down again to see two raised middle fingers. Charming girl.
‘Hello, Van. How’s…business?
Or something sociable.’
‘Which business?
The dancers? The serving of alcohol? Or the generous lending of money to those
in need?’
‘Oh, it’s good of
you to offer, but I’ve got enough cash to get by for now. I’ll take the drink
though.’
Van smiled a
friendly smile, laced with knowing. He nodded to the gorilla. I heard glasses
clinking behind me. Van’s pale eyes bored into mine through his black-rimmed
glasses. Those eyes in anyone else’s head would have told me of a cold,
calculating owner. Well, I guessed he was calculating. Not all that cold
though.
‘I’m going to
hazard a guess,’ he said, ‘that you didn’t come here to pay me back what I’m
due.’
The gorilla stepped
past me to hand Van his drink first. Then he thrust the other glass at me. It sloshed
around the rim and splashed on my coat. I glanced at the wet patch, but decided
against saying anything to him.
‘Real whiskey,’ I
said, sniffing the golden liquid. ‘I’m honoured.’
‘Well, from what
I’m hearing, it might be your last drink.’ I couldn’t help the second’s
hesitation mid sip. ‘That’s right, I know he’s after your head. Empty though it
may be.’
I took another slow
sip while I thought. My mind went to my pistol…sitting in the pocket of a
bouncer outside. Then it went about two feet behind me, to the shaved gorilla. The
hands that could probably crush my head like a grape.
I chose silence.
‘No smart comment?
No “Please, Van, don’t hand me over to that mean old man”?’
‘I guess I could
offer you some money not to. I have about a hundred and eighty credits right
here in my pocket. Tempted?’ I grinned.
‘Well, it’s
certainly a large sum. It would take one of these girls, oh, about a whole hour
to earn that much cash. But I think I’ll decline.’
Van ran his fingers
through his short black hair. Checked the sleeves of his powder blue suit. Then
returned his gaze to me. It was obviously my turn to talk.
‘I need your
medical expertise,’ I said. He nodded thoughtfully at the bloodstained bullet
hole in my coat. He wouldn’t have missed it when I walked in. He was waiting
for me to bring it up.
Van’s medical
expertise, as I’d called it, didn’t stretch all that far. For a couple of
years, he’d been an ambulance driver. He had no medical training beyond
resuscitation. But in two years, he’d picked up enough. He could certainly help
with my wound.
‘You’re not going
to bleed out in my office are you? Might frighten the girls to look up and see
a dead man lying above them.’
‘Barely an itch.
But an itch that needs scratching.’
Van tilted his head
a little while he considered me.
There was a change
around me. I wasn’t sure what it was. A glance over my shoulder told me the
lights in the main club had gone out. I looked down and saw two glowing circles
side by side. Below the circles was what looked like a sideways mouth. Below
that, glowing high heels. The glow marker tattoos disappeared as the brunette
passed through the curtain to start her show. I could hear muffled yelling and
whistling. I guessed some things were a little more subtle after all.
‘All right, Jack,’
Van sighed. Even if he was going to hand me to Webster, or kill me himself,
he’d patch me up first. ‘Get the first aid kit from the kitchen, would you?’ he
said to the gorilla.
As the thumping of
the gorilla’s boots left the office, I took off my coat and my suit jacket. Van
came around the steel desk and dragged a felt-footed chair to my side. Sat.
‘You’re right,’ he
said, as he ripped the shirt around the bullet hole. ‘Anyone would think a mosquito
had got to you.’
I looked at the
wound for the first time. The bullet had grazed me. It took enough flesh that I
didn’t really want to be running around with it open, but it was far from
fatal. The worst I could expect from it was an infection.
‘So you killed
Dicky Webster,’ Van said. Said it matter-of-factly.
‘He started it.’
‘Uh huh. I expect
he did. He likes starting things. Not so good at finishing them. Not without
his boys around. So now Cole wants you dead. And you…walk into his club.’
‘I walked into your
club.’
‘You walked into a club
owned by the man who wants your head, attached or not, and managed by the man
you owe money to. All to get your little paper cut sewn up.’
‘I owe you money?
Well like I said, I have about a hundred credits in my pocket. I’m sure that’ll
cover it.’
‘You said a hundred
and eighty and no it won’t. You’ve owed me for too long.’
‘Well, I can’t pay
you back if you hand me over to Webster and he kills me, can I? Or if the cops
come for me again and pack me off to Anshan.’
‘Anshan? What did
you do this time?’
‘Take your pick.’
The gorilla arrived
back through the door with a green bag in his stupidly big hands. Handed it to
Van. Took up position again, looming over me. Van pulled out an antiseptic
spray and something that looked like a pen.
‘So why are you
still in town?’
‘I have till
morning to find something on Webster. If I can, the UPSF turns its eyes from me
to him.’
Van froze halfway
through spraying my wound. ‘UPSF? They’re in Harem? I didn’t hear anything
about that.’
‘Just one agent and
two dogs.’
‘And they want
Webster?’
I was beginning to
see a path through the thorns. ‘Yeah, the agent and a detective. If I can link
Webster to this murder they want me for, or for trafficking or
something
,
they’ll take him down. There’s no reason his clubs should be just shut down. I
imagine they’d go to the managers…’
Van swapped the
spray for the pen-like tool. He pinched the wound closed. Ran the end of the
thing over it. The wound sealed and with a swipe of a damp antiseptic wipe, it
was barely visible. I could have done that myself if I’d had a first aid kit
handy.
‘You should
probably leave,’ Van said as I pulled my jacket and coat back on. I searched
for an answer in his eyes while I drained my glass. ‘The cameras ID’d you as
soon as you came in. That asshole will probably be on his way now. His guys are
already here.’
He nodded towards
the other end of the office. I looked through the glass floor under the couch.
Two guys stood where I had, just inside the door. They were unmistakably
Webster’s. Neither was looking up at the office yet.
‘They can’t see in.
I blocked out the glass. But they’ll be up soon enough.’
I stood. My
eyesight seemed to go black and blinding white at the same time. Red quickly
followed, along with a throbbing ache in my solar plexus. I collapsed back into
the chair. Gasped for breath. The gorilla stepped back.
‘A reminder that
you still owe me money, Jack,’ Van said. ‘Webster doesn’t kill you, you make
sure I’m your first stop. And have a nice full credit card with you. I don’t
wanna have to come and collect it myself.’
I could feel it in
my throat. Like I was going to throw up. It took nearly a minute before I could
breathe in without trying to cough my lungs out. The gorilla could have done
with my chair smashed over his head, but I had to get out of there. Besides, I
wasn’t sure he’d even notice it.
The goons were
walking around the sides of the club in opposite directions. They’d go all the
way round and when they didn’t see me, they’d head up here.
‘There’s a door out
the back,’ Van said, glancing at a datapad on the desk. ‘The alley looks clear
for now.’
I nodded. Maybe I
owed him thanks. He was letting me off without paying him again, and he was
letting me escape his own boss’ goons. We weren’t that close. It was only
because if I did take down Webster, Van would get this club. Maybe The Web too,
if he was smart enough. I thought he was.
‘Your guy took my
iron,’ I told Van.
‘You’re welcome to
go and ask for it back.’ He wasn’t going to help me with that. ‘Make sure he
gets out,’ he told the gorilla.
I followed behind,
rubbing my stomach. Between Little Dick and the gorilla, I’d be surprised if my
insides were still solid. At the bottom of the stairs, he pointed through one
of the doors.
The door out to the
club opened. Both goons were outside. They didn’t spot me though. Their eyes
snapped straight up into the gorilla’s face. Recoiled a bit. I don’t know if it
was because he was so big or so ugly. As I slipped through the doorway, the
gorilla shoved the two aside with a rumbling growl in his throat. He obviously
didn’t like Webster’s people.
I pressed my back
to the wall on the other side of the doorway. No point making for the back door
if those goons were going to stick their heads in here and see me running. I
was pressed so hard against the wall I could feel my heart thumping in my back.
Their footsteps clumped on the glass stairs. As I breathed out my relief and
stopped hugging the wall, I realised where I was. Six girls sat at their
dressing tables, watching me curiously.
‘Evening.’ I smiled
and nodded at the room in general. Headed for the back.
Outside the room
was a short corridor between it and the one just backstage, under Van’s office.
Halfway along was the door to the back alley. I hoped it was still clear. As
soon as I turned the handle, the door threw itself in towards me. I clenched my
fist, ready to throw as hard a punch as I could. But it was just the wind. The
storm hadn’t calmed any while I was inside.
Cautiously, I stuck
my head out. Lightning lit the alley for me. Showed me there was no one around.
The thunder that followed scared the shit out of me regardless. Made me think
I’d been shot again. I was getting tired of being so damn jumpy. I didn’t like
it. I hadn’t been in this kind of situation before, but I’d been shot at here
and there. Never affected me like this. Maybe it was the lack of an available
target to get my own back on. I kind of felt helpless in a way. If I could hit
someone, or shoot at someone, I’d feel better. Throwing the car at those goons
had made me feel better. Shooting the guy in the apartment building had made me
feel better. So, yeah, I guessed that’s what it was. Just needed to shoot
someone.
I didn’t know which
way was least likely to take me to Webster’s goons, so I just went left. That
was the direction of the diner anyway. The one across from The Web. Maybe the
girl would have gone back there. Even if she hadn’t, I’d need a directory to
find this Jarvis guy.
ELEVEN
| FAMILY TIES
The girl wasn’t in the diner. But there
was a directory. I hoped the proximity to Webster’s premier club would mean his
goons wouldn’t think to look for me in here. The plastic bench cover creaked
and squeaked as I tried to relax a bit. I sipped the coffee. Still awful.