Hell's Horizon (31 page)

“Any idea who the other lady was?” I asked.

“No. I didn’t know many of Ellen’s friends.”

I’d have to try and find her companion—she might know the name of the guy Ellen was supposed to meet. “Can I come around sometime and discuss this with you?” I asked.

“Sure,” Ama said. “I’d be happy to help. It was terrible, what happened. Ellen was a lovely person.”

“Yes,” I said hollowly. “She was.”

I dropped by the Skylight and questioned the staff, asking if they’d noticed Ellen in the bar that night. Negative answers all around. I paid special attention to the Troops—since the room hadn’t been signed for, Ellen might have been sneaked in, perhaps past a bribed guard—but they swore they knew nothing. More than one told me that they’d been more alert since the Nicola Hornyak fuckup. Frank was coming down hard on shirkers and several soldiers had already been replaced.

While I was there I asked after Valerie Thomas, on the off chance that I might stumble across a lead. Nobody knew much about her. She’d worked at the Skylight a long time but had never gone out with the girls or attended a staff event.

“She was creepy,” one workmate opined. “Like Bette Davis in that movie, the one where she feeds her sister a rat?”

“She worked hard,” an assistant manager assured me. “I was sorry to see her go. Never took anything, not even a sugar cube. Honest, loyal, trustworthy. An ideal employee if you exclude the two dead customers.”

“Men in her life? She didn’t mention any.”

“Valerie never seemed keen on men. She hadn’t much time for them. Wouldn’t surprise me if she’d been a lesbo.”

“
Valerie
? With a
man
? I don’t think so!”

It was late when I finished at the Skylight. I decided to give Ellen’s circle of friends a rest. I still had plenty of names to work through, and more would probably crop up in the course of my inquiries, but they could wait till morning. I called Priscilla to check that she was all right—as I had several times throughout the day—and told her I’d be a while, to go to bed and get some sleep. She agreed, but only if I promised to wake her when I got home.

Next I rang Paucar Wami.

My father was surprised to hear from me but agreed to meet, even though I wouldn’t tell him what it was about. He wanted to come to my place but I quickly put paid to that suggestion—I didn’t want him anywhere near Priscilla. I asked if he could meet me at the site of the Manco Capac statue instead. We fixed an hour, I nipped into a burger bar for a bite, then it was rendezvous time.

The site was deserted apart from a few guards who were easy to dodge. I looked for blind men but there weren’t any on parade. I stopped by the foot of the statue and waited for Wami. I’d been there a few minutes when a small pebble dropped on my head. I scratched my crown and moved aside, but moments later another fell. I glanced up and there was the tattooed face, grinning down at me.

“You should choose your ground more carefully, Al m’boy. What if I had meant you mischief?”

I climbed up to join him. I looked for the trapdoor when I made the platform but the foundations had been built upon since I was last here. The entrance to the underworld was now sealed off.

“The builders have been busy,” Wami noted. He was dressed in black from head to toe. Except for the snakes, he appeared invisible against the dark backdrop of the night sky.

“They’re not the only ones,” I said, then told him about Valerie’s confession and what had happened since. The snakes on his face appeared to flicker angrily when I mentioned the note with the finger, but he said nothing.

“And now they have Bill,” I concluded.

Wami scowled. “I agree with you—they have kept him alive to tempt you back into the game. But can you save him or is he doomed whatever you do?”

“Probably doomed,” I sighed, “but I have to try. I’m dancing to their tune, but what else can I do? If I give up on Bill, he’s finished. I’ll be getting fingers, toes and other parts in the mail from here till doomsday.”

“A despicable ploy,” Wami chuckled. “I too have sent a few men home to their loved ones in such a manner. It never fails to elicit mad screams and illogical behavior. You should write off Bill Casey.”

“I can’t do that,” I said flatly.

“No,” he agreed with a wry smile. “You lack the detached killer’s instinct which would make life much simpler. So, what
can
you do?”

“Go on looking for Ellen’s lover. Keep asking questions. Scour the streets. Raid every den in town.”

“You will be an old man by the time you are finished.”

“You know a better way?”

“Go after the blind men,” he suggested. “Drop your search for your friend and call their bluff. Put out word that if he is not returned immediately, you will quit this city.”

“You think the
villacs
have him?”

“If not, they can get him.”

I thought about it, then shook my head. “They wouldn’t buy it.”

“They might. They value you highly, judging by your previous encounter. If you threaten to walk, they might cave in and deliver, if not the answers you seek, at least the friend you wish to save.”

“And if they don’t? I just leave?” He nodded. “No. I won’t gamble with Bill’s life.”

“It is your best hope of saving him.”

“I don’t agree.”

“Very well,” he sniffed. “I have offered my advice. If you ignore it, you must continue as you are, ineffective as your methods have so far proved.”

He slipped toward the ladder.

“I need your help,” I said quietly as he was about to drop out of sight. He stared at me curiously. “You know more about this city’s dark heart than anyone. You can go places no other can go. If I fail to get a fix on Ellen’s lover, I’ll have to track down Bill the hard way. I’ll need you for that.”

“Asking your pappy for help, Al m’boy?” he chortled.

“I need you,” I said again.

“But you do not
want
me.” He shrugged. “Not that it matters. Filial love was never high on my list of priorities.”

“You’ll help?”

“I know Bill Casey,” he muttered and his face creased. “There is… history between us.”

I stared incomprehensively. “He never said he knew you.”

“It is not the sort of history one readily shares.” His expression cleared. “I would save him if I could. Call me if all else fails and I will help. In the meantime I will keep my ear to the ground and let you know if I hear of anything.”

“Thanks.” I tried to sound grateful.

“I hope you realize my aid does not come free,” he said. “My time is precious. I have gone out of my way to assist you. When the day comes for you to repay the debt, I hope you remember.”

“What do you want?” I asked, an icy chill snaking down my spine.

“I always dreamed of one of my sons following in my footsteps…”

“Bullshit,” I laughed.

“What ungrateful creatures the young can be,” he moaned, but the shine of his grinning teeth betrayed him. “You are right, of course—your actions once I flee this mortal shell matter as much to me as those of a slug. However, it would amuse me to think of you devoting your life to the cause espoused by your demon of a pappy.”

“Forget it,” I snapped. “I’ve been an executioner, but I was following orders. I could never kill for kicks or profit.”

“Not even to save Bill Casey?”

I shook my head uncertainly. “I couldn’t.”

“You killed for The Cardinal. Why not for Bill?”

“That was different. It was business. I’m not a killer.”

“Perhaps,” Wami smiled. “Or perhaps you are, but have not yet realized it.”

He left me with that thought, vanishing down the ladder like a spider, back to his web of a city.

I woke Priscilla when I got home and told her about my day (omitting the encounter with Wami). I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep—on top of my other worries, I now had my debt to Wami to consider—but I was exhausted. I passed out while telling Priscilla about my conversation with Ama Situwa and didn’t wake till the sun was high in the sky.

Priscilla cooked a huge breakfast. By the end of it I felt like sitting in a chair all day to vegetate. But there was work to be done, people to be interviewed, and though Priscilla again pleaded with me not to leave her, I was soon back on the streets.

I called several of those I’d talked to yesterday, in light of my conversation with Ama, and asked if they’d been in the Skylight with Ellen the night before her murder. Nobody had been, though a few had seen her earlier that day. I thanked them for taking my call, then started on fresh contacts.

I concentrated on work colleagues. I didn’t know many people from Preston’s, the company she worked for, and those I spoke to weren’t as forthcoming as her friends. Some questioned my identity and wanted to know how they could be sure I was who I claimed to be. I offered to drop by and conduct my inquiries in person but the manager who dealt with me was set against that—yes, Miss Fraser had been a valued employee and they regretted her demise, but life went on and they didn’t want strangers turning up at will, interrupting their routines.

Ellen had always said she worked for the most uptight employers in the city. Now I knew she hadn’t been kidding. I convinced some of her less icy colleagues to meet me that night for drinks, and a few more said they might fit me into their schedules later in the week, but all claimed to know nothing of Ellen’s personal life or the men she’d dated.

During one of the breaks I allowed myself between calls, my cell phone rang. One of The Cardinal’s secretaries. The Great One was willing to meet me if I got over there in a hurry, but it would have to be brief.

Party Central was a hive of frenzied activity when I arrived. Teams of Troops were gathering in the yard, three or four per group, then setting out armed to the armpits. Frank was coordinating things. During a quiet moment I asked what was going on.

“Manhunt,” he snapped, clutching a clipboard as if his life depended on it. “That bastard Capac Raimi.”

“The Cardinal’s golden boy?” I recalled Frank’s previous outburst about the young pretender to the throne.

“They got into a fight last night. We could have taken care of him then, but The Cardinal—in that glorious, fucked-up way of his—let him go. Vincent Carell and a few others ran into him later. He took them out.”

“Vincent’s dead?” The news didn’t disturb me—we weren’t friends—but I was startled. Close confidantes of The Cardinal and Ford Tasso hardly ever met with sticky ends, unless they ran afoul of their masters.

“Dead as disco,” Frank said without humor.

“On the off chance that I see him, what are the orders? Shoot on sight or bring him in?”

“Officially, bring him in. Off the record, blow the fucker away. There’ll be shit to face if you do, but I’ll back you up, even if it means my job.”

Checking in my shoes and socks downstairs, I proceeded to the fifteenth floor. The halls were buzzing with Troops and other underlings. It took a while to shove through them and make it to The Cardinal’s inner sanctuary. His secretary held me up until he was free. About twenty minutes later, a posse of soldiers spilled out of his room and I was ushered in.

The Cardinal was sitting at his desk, fiddling with a puppet. As I got closer I realized Frank hadn’t been kidding when he said the boss had been in a fight—his face was a mess.

“You look like hell,” I noted, taking a seat.

He managed a weak smile. “You should see the other guy,” he chuckled, then grimaced and clutched his sides. “It hurts when I laugh but that’s nothing to what it’s like when I piss. I’m getting old, Al. Time was, I’d have taken a beating like this in my stride. Now I feel like a lump of shit that’s been simmering on low for a couple of hours.” He let the puppet flop to the floor and massaged the back of his neck.

“Enough of my complaints,” he boomed. “You didn’t come here to listen to an old fart moaning about himself. What can I do for you?”

I told him about Bill, Valerie, the
villacs
. I didn’t run him through the entire story—time was short—but I filled him in on the key facts.

“It doesn’t surprise me,” he grunted when I’d finished. “About the woman lying to protect another, I mean, or those blind priests being involved. So, what can I do to help?”

“Set your people after him. Maybe one of your informants knows who kidnapped him, or can find out. Spread the word that you don’t want him harmed. Demand his safe return.”

“What makes you think his abductors will pay attention to me?”

“It’s worth a try.”

“Perhaps. But I’m too busy to deploy my agents. I’ll need a day or two, perhaps a week. My business with Mr. Raimi should have reached a conclusion by then. Once that’s done and dusted, I and mine are at your service.”

“A week’s too long. He could be dead by then.”

“We could all be dead by then,” The Cardinal replied. “My hands are tied. I cannot…” He hesitated. “You have heard the rumors that I’ve been grooming Mr. Raimi to succeed me?”