Hell's Horizon (32 page)

“Yes.”

“What I tell you now stays between us. You don’t tell
anyone
. Understand?”

I nodded wordlessly.

He took a deep breath, then locked gazes with me. “I’m dying. A brain tumor. I learned of it a year ago. By rights I should be dead already, but I fought like a tiger and earned an extra few months. I’ve three or four weeks to go, but any day now I’ll start to slide. My vision will fade first. I’ll lose my mental faculties soon after. I’ll spend the last week or two in a coma.”

He smiled bitterly and waited for me to respond. I couldn’t. I’d always thought The Cardinal would go on forever. It never occurred to me that he was mortal like the rest of us, subject to the same random laws of life and death.

“Say something,” he snarled.

“I don’t know what to say. I… Are you certain?”

“Sure as shit. You’re the only person who knows, bar my doctors. I’ve even kept Mr. Tasso in the dark. If word had spread, this last year would have been hell. I’d have spent it struggling to hold things together. You know what vultures are like when they scent death.”

“Why are you telling me?” I asked, bewildered.

“I want you to understand.” He leaned forward. “I’ve lived a life of sin and corruption. I suffer from no illusions—if there’s a hell, I’m heading there by express train. I have nothing to look forward to. I never had, not since killing my first man when I was still a child. All I have is this empire. I’ve devoted myself to it, and if it dies with me, my entire existence will have been for nothing.

“I’ve groomed heirs in the past, to little avail. Capac Raimi is my last throw of the dice. If he fails, my life is a failure. That’s why I didn’t kill him for doing this to me.” He tapped his face. “Why I’m still feeding him rope and praying that he doesn’t hang himself with it. Why I’m clinging to hope rather than giving myself over to despair.”

“But what does any of that have to do with
me
?”

The Cardinal covered his eyes with the middle three fingers of both hands.

“The
villacs
?” I frowned.

“If Capac Raimi survives the next seventy-two hours and proves himself worthy of filling my shoes, he’ll need those meddlers. They’re more influential than you can imagine, and without their assistance, no man can run this city. I can’t afford to piss them off at this delicate stage.

“In a few days, matters will have been resolved. Capac Raimi will have made his stand or fallen. Either way, I’ll be free to act, and then—assuming my tumor doesn’t kick in and turn me into a fruitcake—I’ll do all I can for you. We’ll go after your tormentors, find your friend, put everything right that can be put right. Until then, I must be neutral.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of The Cardinal’s extraordinary pledge, but there was no mistaking his earnestness. If he’d been playing with me before, he wasn’t any longer.

“And in the meantime?” I asked quietly.

“Go about your business. If you find the killer, do with him as you wish. If not, I’ll get in touch and we’ll make plans.”

His secretary paged him and said Ford Tasso was on his way up. He thanked her and said she should send him straight in when he arrived.

“I have to bid you farewell. Mr. Tasso has not taken his son’s death well. If I can’t calm him down, he might do something silly when and if young Raimi turns up again.”

“His son?” I asked.

“Vincent Carell. Ford Tasso was his father. You didn’t know?”

“No.”

“I didn’t realize the secret had been so well kept. That’s why we went out of our way to overlook his deficiencies. In all honesty,” he said in a tone of strictest confidence, “his death isn’t too much of a blow. I’m only surprised the fool survived this long. He won’t be missed. Mr. Tasso will realize that once he’s had time to think about it. He’d better—if Raimi comes through, he’ll be the new boss. Wouldn’t do to have bad blood between them.”

“You really think Tasso would serve under the man who killed his son?”

“Ford Tasso was born to serve,” The Cardinal said, then led me to the door.

I would see him once more from afar, two nights later, after he fell to his death, but this was our last encounter. As I made my way downstairs to collect my shoes, I brooded on how healthy he looked for a man on his last legs, and found myself wondering if hell was big enough to accommodate both Ferdinand Dorak and the First of the Fallen, and if it wasn’t, which of the two would be forced out. Old Nick was a mighty foe, but I couldn’t see The Cardinal playing second fiddle to anyone. The Devil might be about to get his ass kicked. I almost wished I could be there to see it.

25

I
ended up exploring more blind alleys on Tuesday night and Wednesday morning. Ellen’s workmates proved as clueless as I’d suspected. None knew anything of her love life. I showed them photographs of Valerie, Ziegler and Nick, along with pictures of everyone else associated with the investigation, in case one would jog somebody’s memory, but although several recognized the now infamous Miss Thomas, nobody could connect any of the suspects to Ellen.

Wednesday afternoon, following an uninformative interview with one of Ellen’s friends, I realized I was close to Cafran’s and called in to have a few words with Ama Situwa, to see if she could tell me anything about Ellen’s dinner companion. I guessed it had been Valerie in the Skylight bar with Ellen, but figured I should confirm it.

It was quiet when I arrived and a bored-looking waiter pointed to Ama. She was laying cutlery on one of the tables. The silverware jangled loudly in her hands, which shook nervously. This impression was reinforced when I tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped.

“Easy,” I said as she turned, brandishing one of the knives. “I come in peace.”

“Then why are you sneaking up on people?” she snapped.

“Didn’t mean to.” I stuck out a hand. “I’m Al Jeery. I called about Ellen?”

Her face relaxed into a warm grin. “Sorry for biting.” She laid the cutlery down in a bundle. “Shall we go through to the kitchen? We can talk in private there.”

I followed her into the back. Ama found a quiet spot and pulled up a couple of stools. She asked if I’d like anything to eat. I said I didn’t want to impose.

“So,” she smiled. “What would you like to know?”

“You saw Ellen in the Skylight the night before her murder?”

“Yes.”

“Any idea of the time?”

“After nine, maybe a quarter past.”

“She was with another woman?”

“Yes. They were waiting for dates.”

“Do you know if they were going on together from there or if they were planning to separate?”

“I’ve no idea. The bar was noisy, I’d had a few drinks. We didn’t say much.”

“The other woman—could you describe her?”

“White. Pretty. Well dressed.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention. I might recognize her if I saw her again, but…”

“No problem.” I forced the smile I’d been making good use of recently. “If you can spare the time, I’d like you to look at some photos.”

“Sure.”

I took out the envelope, shook a few snapshots onto the table and shifted through the pile, lining them up. “If you see anyone you know, please let me…”

She wasn’t listening. Her eyes had focused on a picture and her lips were pursed. She leaned her head sideways, reached for the photo, stopped. “May I?”

“By all means,” I told her, heart starting to pound.

I watched with sick fascination as she picked up the photo and studied it. She sorted through the rest of the pile until she found another.

“This woman… I can’t say for sure—it was dark and I didn’t get that good a look—but I think this is the woman I saw with Ellen.”

“It can’t be,” I said shakily. “You’re mistaken.”

“Maybe, but it sure looks like her.”

I stared at the photos in her hand and suddenly, terribly, it made sense.

“Thank you,” I muttered, sliding off the stool, almost tumbling to the floor.

“Are you all right?” she asked, reaching out to steady me.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks. I have to leave now. You’ve been very helpful. Thank—”

I started for the door.

“Mr. Jeery—your photographs.”

“Keep them. I don’t… Goodbye.”

I rushed out of the restaurant and fell to the pavement, panting, forcing back bile. I raised a hand and watched it shake like crazy. Gradually, as minutes passed, the shaking subsided and I breathed normally. When I felt steady, I stood, fetched my bike and pushed it along for a while, collecting my thoughts.

I knew who the link was. The lover. The pieces fell into place neatly in retrospect. Ellen saying she might surprise me. The porter in the Skylight who said Valerie Thomas could be a lesbo. Priscilla and Nic tricking together, closer than ordinary friends. Ellen laughing—a wedding wouldn’t be appropriate.

So obvious. Hard to believe it had taken me this long to figure it out. I didn’t know the motive, but that would come. One short ride and all the answers would be at my fingertips. I wouldn’t even have to search. I knew exactly where to find the monster.

I climbed on my bike and started pedaling, slowly at first, then faster, furiously, till I was flying, a hurricane on two wheels, destination—home.

Ali was bagging bagels as I started up the stairs. I retraced my steps. He burst into a smile when I entered. “Hello, my friend!” he greeted me, emerging from behind the counter to pump my hand. “Back on your feet and hungry again? I can guess what you are after. Salmon and cream cheese, yes?”

“No,” I said softly.

“The new lady in your life has changed you,” he chuckled. “An occupational hazard of love, yes?”

I cleared my throat. “You should shut up shop for a while.”

He frowned. “Is this a joke, my friend?”

I shook my head. “Go for a walk and don’t come back for a couple of hours.”

Ali stared at me. “You know I cannot desert my post.”

“You’re not a soldier, Ali.”

“Still…”

“Trust me.” I grasped his shoulder and squeezed softly. “You don’t want to be here. You don’t want to get involved.”

His eyes swiveled upward, as if he could see through the ceiling. When he looked back at me, he wasn’t any the wiser, but he nodded. He didn’t know what I was going to do, but he knew I wouldn’t ask him to leave unless it was bad.

“I will go for a walk,” he decided. “I could do with the exercise, yes?”

I clapped his back and helped him lock up the store.

“I will be seeing you soon?” he asked as I resumed my climb.

“Maybe,” I lied.

As I turned the key, I remembered I had left my gun with Priscilla. I glanced at my feet, collected my wits, opened the door. “I’m back!” I called out.

“You’re home early,” she welcomed me, stepping through from the kitchen. She stood on her tiptoes for a kiss. I took her in my arms and obliged. She squinted at me, puzzled, when I let go abruptly.

“You look very enigmatic,” she remarked. “What’s up?”

“I’ve got a lead.” I gazed around the apartment, searching for the gun. “I have to go out again. Can I have my gun back? I might need it.”

“You think you’ve found the killer?” she asked, a slight tremor to her voice.

“No, just a lead. I probably won’t need the gun, but if you don’t mind letting me have it for a while…”

“Of course not. It’s in the kitchen. Wait here and I’ll fetch it.” She trotted off like a lamb. Good enough to eat. She came back moments later and pressed the pistol into my hand.

“Thanks,” I said, holding it by the barrel.

“So, where are you—?” she began.

I slammed the butt of the gun into her face, smashing her nose. She reeled away, stunned. I followed after her and clubbed the back of her head. She fell to the floor, where I pinned her and cuffed her wrists behind her waist. Then I turned her over.

I’d been expecting a torrent of abuse but she only laughed at me, spitting blood out the side of her mouth.

“You found out!” she howled gleefully.

“Bitch!” I slapped her face with the gun. “Murdering whore!” Grabbed her hair and yanked her head forward, ramming the gun up under her chin. “
Why
?”

“Why not?” she giggled, then added as I started to shake, “Get a grip. You’ll topple over from a heart attack if you carry on like this. Deep breaths, lover.”

I sat back and regarded her contemptuously. “You killed Nic and Ellen?”

“Guilty. Valerie finished off Nic, but I did most of the damage. I handled Ellen on my own. She was easier. Weaker.”

“You were their lover. Valerie, Nic, Ellen. You fucked them and killed them.”

“It wasn’t hard. Even Ellen. She’d never been with a woman before, but once I set my tongue in action, she lapped it up.” A wicked chuckle. “So to speak.”

I grinned in spite of myself, the grin of a lion with a keeper trapped in its cage. “You played me for a fool,” I whispered. “I was suspicious of you at the start, but you convinced me of your innocence. I cut you out of the investigation. Took you into my life, my bed, my apartment, and never guessed, not once.”

She smirked. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. I did a bit of acting in my earlier days. Could have gone into the movies if Daddy hadn’t been so set against it. But I never gave a performance this good. This was my
pièce de résistance
.”

“Why waste it on me?” I asked.

“Why not?” she replied again.

“It’s as simple as that? You picked my name out of a book?”

“Not quite. I was following orders.”

“Whose?”

“The sun god’s.”

I cocked the gun. “Don’t fuck with me,” I growled.

“I’m through fucking,” she said. “Nic was a sacrifice. She knew what was up. She didn’t know
she
was to be killed, but once things got under way she played along, making the most of a bad lot. She always was a good sport.”

“Ziegler said he didn’t know she was going to be murdered.”

“He didn’t. We brought Rudi along to read the necessary passages. When he went home, Jinks and I carved her up and carted her to the Skylight. I thought she was dead, but she was still alive when Valerie checked later. Not for long though.” She sang the last line.

“You killed Nic to appease a fucking sun god,” I muttered, thinking quickly. “But why leave the body at the Skylight?”

“Orders.”

“The sun god’s?”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you to fuck up my life as well?”

“Sure did.”

“You’ve got a direct line to him?” I sneered.

“He spoke to me through his earthly agent. Told me to spin a web and draw you in. I don’t know why he bothered with a sap like you, but you don’t question the god of the sun. You obey his word or burn.”

“Did he tell you to kill Ellen?”

“Yes. But through his priests this time. I ran into Ellen a couple of days after our encounter in Cafran’s. An impartial observer might say it was coincidence, but I’m sure it was destiny. I saw she was attracted to me and lured her on. I told my agent and suggested killing her but he vetoed the idea. Then the
villacs
said to proceed. I’m not sure how they knew about us, but I was glad they did. I got a real buzz out of killing her.”

The priests had told a half-truth when I met them in the underground cavern—they hadn’t murdered Ellen directly, but they had sanctioned it. I’d make the bastards pay if I could.

“Why kill Ellen?” I asked.

“To destroy you. The
villacs
said it was important. I don’t know why. I just followed orders and used my initiative when the opportunity arose.” She started humming.

“You’re crazy as a coyote,” I muttered.

“Who are you to judge?” she retorted. “What do you think you look like to the god of the sun? Have you any idea how insignificant you are? How tiny? How—”

I gagged her. I’d heard all I needed to hear. There was still Bill to ask about but that could come later, when I’d loosened her lips. Right now I wanted to focus on the payback. I thought of all the tools in the apartment that I could use. I had a small Bunsen burner. A hacksaw. Pliers. A hammer. A drill. Lots of knives.

Once I’d gathered my implements, I laid them on the floor where she could see them. There was fear in her eyes, which excited me. Unlike Valerie, she hadn’t inured herself to pain. She could be hurt.

I took the smallest finger of her left hand—the same digit she’d cut off Bill—and wedged it between the pliers. I gave a gentle squeeze and her body stiffened as she yelped into the gag. I stood there a moment and thought about what I was doing. Could I justify this? Revenge was one thing, but torture? Could I inflict pain on a woman I’d thought I might be in love with less than an hour ago?

I thought about Paucar Wami and the tainted blood running through my veins. Ellen in the Skylight, cut to ribbons, short life cruelly ended, hair plastered across the pillows.

My hands tightened. I saw the flesh of her finger start to whiten. A thin stream of blood trickled from the cut. She was made of weak stuff. One good wrench and the finger would be off. One sudden burst of energy and…

I let the pliers drop. Seconds later I dropped beside them. Tears rolled down my cheeks and my chest heaved with sobs.

I couldn’t do it. I had every reason to, but something held me back and wouldn’t let me take the last, damning step that would separate me from all that had once defined my humanity.