Mysterious Cairo (41 page)

Drawing my gun, I jumped over to the bar. A wave of nausea struck me — not from what I saw, but from the delayed effects of the ninja's knee. I avoided crumpling on the spot, and I carefully looked over the bar.

Fast lay in a pool of liquor and blood. Smashed bottles and glasses surrounded him, and he was cut by a hundred shards. His fine Arab nose was broken, by some blunt object and not a fist, it looked like.

I slid over the bar and got him out of the pool of glass.

Not knowing how much time I had, I laid him out on the bar. He groaned and cursed in Arabic. Good; he seemed to be getting stronger, not fading.

"Fast, you okay?" I asked. A stupid question, when you think about it, but it breaks the ice.

He opened his eyes. No dilation, and not any more bloodshot than I remembered. Good.

"Ooooh," he groaned again, reaching to his face. I beat him to it, putting a handkerchief on his bloody face. "The Japs ."

"Yeah, Fast, yeah. I know. What happened?"

He started to sit up, but I made him stay down. I still wasn't positive about the poison or his condition. He looked all right, but I wasn't taking any chances.

"The Japs ."

"Yeah, I got that part."

"Don't know when, but they must've been milling about the room — just after you an' Angie left." He cursed again, and spit. No blood — good. "Must've spiked the drinks ... oooh." My hanky was doing no good, so I grabbed some cocktail napkins. They had been "acquired" from the stocks of all the best restaurants and hotels in town. No matter. He jammed them onto his face and they all turned red anyway.

"Guy over in the corner passed out — not too unusual, but a little early. Then one or two more dropped, and one of them was in the company of a 'diamond in the rough.' She was pissed and made to walk out with his wallet."

"So what else is new?"

"Well, when she reached into his jacket, he fell over and she got a look at his face — all blue. She screamed and ran for the door." He looked at me accusingly, "didn't you hear."

I felt a little annoyed myself. "Angie's room is soundproofed, remember? All we heard was Bennie move up just outside the door — too early."

"Oh. Yeah." Then he sat up. "— Bennie?! I forgot! Is —"

"He's dead, Farastan. I don't think he even saw it coming."

I don't like it when people pry into my private moments, so I won't report the next five minutes. Suffice it to say that Bennie was, unbeknownst to me, like a son to the Arab bartender. I did my best to console him, but I'm not very good at that, so I just stood back.

Sometime during that moment, Angie came out of the back. She was shaking all over, and a little pale, so I gave her a shot. Bourbon, straight up.

She shot
me
a hard look but declined comment.

Farastan finished his story in a rush. He wanted to get out of there, I could tell. The "businessmen" from Japan had disappeared and, by the time the whore screamed, they had been replaced by ninjas and six dead bodies. They were like death on wheels — quiet wheels.
Invisible
wheels. Farastan said that they struck from the shadows, blades and darts coming out of nowhere. He thought most of the victims didn't even know what was happening.

But Jules had. He doped things out pretty quick. Apparently, he'd put on his "dumb, confused" look, and "wandered" over near a ninja. Then, like a sneaky tiger — a
big
tiger, he'd lunged for the man. He'd had the same idea I had. Get in close, bash the crap out of the guy before he could do anything about it.

But this guy had friends.

From Farastan's report, Jules had demolished the ninj a he'd been working on, but the others had swarmed all over him. He'd taken several poison darts in the back and a few sword cuts before he'd gone down. He took two of the remaining ninjas with him — they were at least unconscious and probably dead.

That was when Fast got his. The last ninja had stayed back, killing the few remaining patrons with darts and plinking at Jules. When Fast saw the big man go down, he pulled out his "barroom brawler" — a sawed-off shotgun — and headed for the fray.

But the ninja saw him and reacted before he could get a shot off. Out of missiles, the assassin grabbed a nearby beer mug and hurled it at Fast. From across the room, it hit him square in the face and knocked him cold. The next thing he remembered was me waking him on the bar.

I turned to Angie. She was still shaken by the carnage and, because I was not in a charitable mood, that was good. "Fast, shut the door. Bolt it, if you can." I didn't look to see if he obeyed, but he slid off the bar and hobbled in the right direction.

Grabbing Angie by the elbow, I sat her in the nearest chair. Fortunately, there was no body right near the table — I'm not
that
cruel.

"Now,"
I said, "you tell me everything that's going on."

She looked confused and frightened. Battered as I was, I'm sure I made an intimidating figure — but it wasn't me she was afraid of.

She caved in, though, knowing who that ninj a would've started on next had he gotten through with me.

"What d'you wanna know?" Her voice was hesitant, halting.

"Same as before, only without the games. Burban. Everything you know."

"I don't really know much. A week or so ago, Ab-hibe came to us. He'd been hard before, pressuring us to move his liquor, but we'd paid him off instead — it was less than the stuff would've cost anyway. Now, he wasn't taking any." She frowned and got thoughtful. Her voice resumed some of its normal confidence — Angie's tough.

"He seemed really
urgent.
He didn't threaten, but it was there nonetheless. He said 'Mr. Burban' had capitalized on some others' failures." Pausing again, her frown deepened, "it's funny. Den seemed to speak ... ironically." She chuckled grimly. "If that's possible for a snake."

"Then what did he do?"

"He just left. He took the normal payoff, and then some, and said he'd check with his bosses — bosses!" Her eyes lit up, "Bosses! That's it. Abhibe works for Burban! Nobody else!"

Now she was fully animated. Before, she was looking at the small picture; now it was like a jigsaw coming together.

For her, anyway.

"So what does this mean?"

"Well ..." oh, crap. I could see the catty eyes coming back, so I broke in.

"No!"
I shot, grabbing her elbow again. She winced, but I forced her to look towards her dressing room. The curtain was pulled back, and Farastan had started to clean up Bennie's remains — in the hallway. It worked, and I cursed myself that I had to resort to this tactic.

"All right!" Now she was scared —
mad
scared. I hoped she hadn't figured out what I already knew — the ninjas were there for
me,
not the club. "I think somebody's managed to muscle in on Burban — so fast and so hard that even Abhibe is going along. Rumor is that the underworld is under siege — the Icarus Club, 'Nails' Nash, and now Burban have been defending themselves over the last few weeks. We've been on pins and needles around here."

That was for sure. A place like the Northside straddled the fences. It wasn't a haven for criminals like Nash's place, but it certainly wasn't an angel dive. You came here if you wanted honest entertainment — mostly honest, anyway — or you needed to straddle the Cairo fence.

Hell, it's why I come here.

When a gang war — or, in this case, outside interest — starts, it hits the criminals hard, but these places even harder. They get caught confused and in the crossfire. Plus, all they got is themselves. Like me.

I sympathized for Angie, and for Fast, and I mourned their losses. But I had something I had to do, and it had to be done
now.

"Listen," I said, "I think I've figured this out — most of it, anyway. It started with Burban disappearing but not informing his 'loving wife,'" Angie looked puzzled. Hell, I was just talking out loud, "then Nick gets moved on. He'd never come after me without a good reason — he knows I pay my debts. He was
told
to move on me — right now and hard." I gestured towards an empty corner. "Remember Nick's boys? None of their bodies here. They were just here to finger
me.
I think ."

Angie waved her hands and broke in, "I don't understand; how do you know that Nick was moved in on? I can follow — barely — what you're saying about Burban, but what does that have to do with us? And by us, I mean the Northside."

Fast had finished with Bennie, and he chose that moment to sit down. Great. Now I'd
have
to tell them. I wasn't sure whether having Farastan bolt the door was such a good idea now.

"Jennie Burban—Max's wife, came to me today. God, was it only this morning? She said Max had disappeared, but she knew he wasn't dead. I believed her, and I still do, for reasons I won't go into. Anyway, I'd actually
turned down
the job of finding dear Max — 'cause even though I believed her, I'm not an idiot — and who else but Abhibe, apparently her keeper, shows up.

"I get bashed on the head by my client, and I wake up tied to a chair. Abhibe explains to me it would be better if I minded my own business. He gives me a song and dance about Jennie fooling around and trying to make Mr. Burban look bad. It rings pretty hollow, but I pretend to buy it.

"Then he slips. He not only says 'when Mr. Bur-ban returns,' but he freezes like he was choking on a chicken bone. Like
I
should care when and if Burban leaves town."

I shook my head. It all comes down to that. Den Abhibe making a careless slip in my office writes my name on a contract and over a dozen "innocents" win a free trip to the morgue.

"So?" Angie prodded. She's bright, but she likes things spelled out.

"So," I continued drily, "Abhibe runs back to his
new
bosses and tells them I'm a liability — oh, I'd manage not to get wasted then and there because of an old trick and a tommy-gun," Angie waited impatiently for me to stop patting myself on the back. "Anyway, they then decide to eliminate me."

Now Angie was doubting me. "Then why didn't they just send some goons — or even a Nile villain — after you? Why use Nick at all? Or the ninjas in the Northside?"

That had me stumped. Nick I could understand — work through a third party — but
he
hadn't liked being told what to do. "That's it!" I cried.

Angie looked hopeful, but I had to dash it, "Well, part of it, anyway. Don't you see?
Edgy
was Nick's way of getting his licks in. He was in a position where he had to use
his
boys to front for a hit — but
Edgy
coming first, out of character, put me on edge. Instead of going quietly into an ambush, I got my neck-hairs up and went to talk with you."

I let that sink in. Now I'd see how "reasonable" Angie could be.

Pretty reasonable, it turned out. She sighed, "And the Northside got caught in the middle. Oh, Jack," she was starting to break down, but fighting it, "we've got to get out of here."

"Yeah. You and Fast got somewhere to go?"

She nodded, "We've got some friends, we can go to —"

I held up a hand, cutting her off. "I don't want to know. I'm going after them, Angie. I think I know who's behind this and though they don't remember me, I know them. We've got to end it here, or it'll never be over."

And it won't be over then,
my mind reminded.

"You two go; I think the Northside should be as safe as anywhere, regardless of the outcome. You won't be in danger,"
yeah, right,
"it's me they're after."

For a moment, Angie looked her age—tired, battered — and then she looked beautiful and smiled. She knew what I was going to try to do. "Start at Nick's. They'll have to report there."

"We could question the ninja," I said half-heartedly.

She shook her head, "No, he did himself."

Leave it to Angie to "forget" that. Damn. That clinched it. I
had
to get going.

I nodded and stood. "Show me the way out?" She smiled again, and the old Angie returned.

"Certainly, sir; anything for a regular customer."

Angie showed me the secret exit from the Northside, and I kicked myself for not figuring out its location before — it was so
obvious
I'd never even considered it.

But I promised her I wouldn't tell.

She surprised me even more by giving me a kiss that made my wounds go away. Yeah, she
knew
what I was doing. She almost made me regret it, but she gave me something to do it for, too.

Life just stinks sometimes.

Actually, I disagreed with Angie, but saw no reason to disabuse her of the notion that I'd be going to Nicks. Sure, if I was a pulp hero, I'd head there, walk into an ambush, bash some heads, and go from there. But, I'm not. I'm a Core Earth detective who's been living a pulp lifestyle — and these new guys were messing it up.