Beaten. Raped. Drugged. Left in an alley on the freezing ground. Just thinking on it made his breath come hard. Finding them who killed Slick were important, something he needed to do. Finding who attacked Clapper Sue, that were more than important. That were something he were dying to do, something his entire fucking body were tight with the need to do.
Sue ain’t had any real knowledge for him, though. Dude in a light-colored sedan picked her up, drove into an alley, then started punching. Did what he wanted to her, took back the money, shoved a needle in her arm and the next thing she knew she were waking up with Leela standing over she. She ain’t known the dude and ain’t had a good description of he, causen they all looked the same.
The only good knowledge she had for him was that Slick had been there when she got to her corner. About an hour in—so maybe ten o’clock—he said he’d be right back, wandered off down Ace, and ain’t returned. He’d been gone maybe half an hour, she said, when she got picked up. So Slick made it to the street, leastaways. Terrible weren’t sure how much good knowing that did him, but he figured at that point knowing anything were lucky.
Had Slick been killed right away, or had he done something else first? He ain’t should have just wandered off like that, no, but it weren’t unusual; not the first time he’d been caught heading off to spend fifteen minutes with some dame when he oughta been working. Dealers weren’t there specifically to keep an eye on the whores, but being a dealer meant he were supposed to stay on he corner. People got to know who were there and when, who they wanted to deal with. Were the dealers’ job to keep an eye on shit, too, make sure everything were right, and they had to know their street to do it. Had to be there if aught went down so’s they could call it in. If Bump and Terrible ain’t had knowledge on everything going on, they could get fucked real fast.
Which was part of the reason why Terrible stood in the alley where Leela found Sue, getting ready to walk across the street and start asking people iffen they saw or heard anything. He doubted any would, but he had to ask. And he ain’t had a lot of time to do it in. Were three o’clock already. It’d start being darker soon.
In fact, were only a couple of days past what Chess said were the longest night of the year. That used to be called Christmas, he thought, before Haunted Week and the Church of Real Truth and religions being illegal; he had a couple memories of that, vague recalls on colored lights and people wearing red suits ringing bells. Very vague. He weren’t even certain they were real. But he knew Christmas used to be just before the year changed, and that were only a few days on, so he figured that were it.
He’d be with Amy on New Year’s, leastaways that were the plan. But with it looking like somebody were out there killing street-men and attacking whores, he maybe wouldn’t be doing aught but hunting em down. Probably best not to mention that to Amy, though, till he was certain.
And best not to stand there in the cold thinking on any of it. Had he work needed doing.
He studied the buildings around the alley. It looked like any other alley in Downside, any other street: broken windows, graffiti, crumbling bricks, litter and shards of glass strewn over the cracked cement. Not a single eye peered out of any of the holes in the walls or from behind any corners, but he knew they were there. Knew they’d all gone and hid when he parked outside. They ain’t knew why he was there, and nobody wanted to take the chance it was because of them.
He leaned against his car and thought for a second. Wayne Oldham lived on the top floor directly across the street, and Wayne had a few owes. Nothing big, only a couple hundred or so, but enough to start a conversation.
Wayne was also an asshole. An asshole who knew a lot of other assholes, and an asshole who needed to be handled in a particular way, which was just fine with Terrible because thinking on what had happened to Sue made his vision narrow, and he wouldn’t mind at all getting to beat somebody down.
And Wayne was home. He opened the door, his eyes too-wide with fake innocence. Like he ain’t fucking knew he owed money. “Terrible,” he said. “Nice—”
Terrible closed his fist around Wayne’s throat. Tight, and hard. “Fifty. Gimme fifty now, an I ain’t break any bones.”
He gave Wayne a few seconds to think about it, watching his face turn an interesting shade of purple. The darker it got, the more eager Wayne would be to talk.
When Wayne’s eyes started rolling back Terrible let him go. Wayne crumpled to the floor, coughing and gasping like an engine ain’t wanted to keep running. Terrible ignored the sound. He reached down to grab Wayne’s arm, yank him back to his feet, and hustled him into his shitty apartment.
Looked like every other junkie’s place—
almost
every other junkie’s place. Wayne was a banger, though. Used needles. Not like Chess. Different thing. Totally different. Bloody tissues littered the floor, along with charred spoons, balloon shreds, matches and tiny bits of cigarette filter. The ashtrays overflowed.
Terrible saw the woman before she moved. Easy. He sidestepped, swinging his arm—the arm holding Wayne—to the right as he did, putting Wayne’s scrawny shoulder in the way of the woman’s blow. The crack the bat made when it hit Wayne’s bone—might even have broke it, from the sound, and from Wayne’s shriek—seemed to echo in the almost-empty room. Coursen it was almost empty. Wayne had sold anything he could.
Damn it. He hated having to do this with dames. He dropped Wayne and grabbed her by the back of the neck, pushing down so first her knees, then her forehead hit the floor. Both she and Wayne were screaming. Fucking annoying.
He knelt between them, keeping his hold on the back of her neck and doing the same to Wayne, leaning forward so his weight pushed both their faces into the dirty floor. “What money you got?”
“Got no,” Wayne said. Hard to understand him, since he were talking into the thin carpet. “Sorry, sorry, got no, waitin on … Louann here, she gonna get me some, she gonna … gonna earn us some … ”
Aw, fuck. He gave them both another hard shove into the floor, tightened his fists. Their necks were so fucking stringy and skinny in his hands. “How? How’s she earning it?”
Wayne apparently realized he’d said the wrong thing. “She … she … ”
“Aye? What?”
“Only be a couple dudes we knowing,” the dame—Louann—said. Squeaked, more like. “Wanted it from me, them did, not from just any dame. Them ain’t be paying for it any elsewheres, true thing them ain’t.”
“Maybe—maybe she coming work for Bump.” Wayne tried and failed to lift his head so he could look at Terrible. “Maybe she work off my owings. Maybe you wanna take she off inna bedroom, give she a try? Be—”
Terrible shifted his weight, pressed his knee into the dame’s back so he had a free hand. He needed it to smash into Wayne’s face. Which he did, with a satisfying crunch of bone. Fucker. What kind of man whored his woman like that, ain’t even checked with her first?
And as if he had even the faintest interest in that dirty, ragged, starved sack of bones under his knee, with her broken teeth and bruises. Even if he needed to take a whore to his bed, he wouldn’t be interested. Bump’s whores were clean, and most of em were pretty, and he could have any one of them he wanted any time he wanted, for free.
He never did, but he could. He weren’t so desperate he needed to jump whatany dame waved it in his face. Specially not one like this one.
“You knowing how this goes,” he said, loud so they could both hear him over their wails. “Money, or knowledge. Which you got?”
“Knowledge on what?” Louann asked.
He lessened the pressure on their necks. Not a lot, but a little. Let them think he were thinking on it, trying to come up with something they could maybe give him, so it wouldn’t seem so important.
He counted to fifteen in his head, nice and slow, then said, “Last night. ’Cross the street there. Had we a robbery happen. You hear any on it? Heard anything last night, round one?”
Silence. Fuck. They was trying to come up with a lie to give him, he bet. The longer them paused the bigger the lie would be. Always worked that way.
“Heard screams,” Louann said. “Lotsen em. Shouts an screamin.”
Just as he’d figured on. Bullshit. He’d play along. Maybe they’d let slip something he could use just the same. “What kinda screaming?”
“Like a argument,” Wayne said. “Like threats an all.”
“Who it was? You hear who? Any names or aught like that?”
“Just some dudes, some dames. Dudes saying ‘Gimme the money,’ an the dames screaming, they was, big loud screams.”
“Aye,” Louann said. “Heard on that, an were afraid to look outen the window, aye? Figured were maybe Slobag’s men like afore—”
“What?”
Louann tried to twist her head to look at him. It didn’t really work. He just caught the side of one bloodshot eye rolling in its socket. “Slobag’s men, like two days past, were onna street tryna load off some bags, dig me? So figured on you hearing on it, maybe them coming back.”
What the fuck. Slobag’s men there? At Fiftieth?
He bet they used them fucking tunnels again. No matter how many times he chained up them doors, tried cementing em closed, bricked em over … they kept fucking getting em back open.
And not much else he could do on it. Slobag’s men knew those tunnels too well. Be too hard to fight em down there, leastaways just then it would. So he and Bump let em have their little tunnels, seeing as how all they ever did with em was sneak around and annoy. Bump had enough spies over there that he and Terrible’d know iffen those tunnels was gonna be used to start up a battle. Until then, better to just let em think they had one over.
But iffen they was going to start tryna use them for doing business … shit. “An you ain’t said shit on this? Ain’t told any street-men or any else?”
Wayne whimpered; Terrible realized his grip had tightened, harder than he meant it to. He loosened it some, so Wayne could talk again. “Sorry … sorry, ain’t thought—we just ain’t thought on it, were all, was … busy usselves was, see, us busy.”
Busy. Bullshit. Were holding on to the knowledge, he bet, knowing they had owes and that he’d be around to collect. Or maybe they was just too fucking dumb to think on it. Were possible. They both were idiots.
And they both smelled. He wanted to take himself another shower after this, after touching them. Chess always carried baby wipes with her. He figured he’d look like a pussy iffen he did the same, but times like this he maybe didn’t care so much.
“Be the first time they down there, two days past?”
“First I knowing.” Wayne’s breath stirred the dust on the carpet. “Ain’t can say sure, I ain’t can.”
Coursen he couldn’t. Probably spent so much time on the nod he ain’t known one day from another. “Any buy offen em? Any talking to em?”
“Ain’t can say on that neither,” Wayne said. “I ain’t bought any, an they leaving fast then. Ain’t looked out the window last night, I ain’t.”
So maybe them weren’t lying on having heard something. Still didn’t mean what they heard had any to do with Sue, though. Coulda been just a street-fight. Coulda been Slobag’s men, aye, he guessed, but he figured iffen fighting started he’d have heard on it, somebody woulda given him a ring-up.
And that were all shit he’d have to worry on later. “You keep yon ears open, dig? Iffen you hear aught, you give me it. Nobody else, just me, aye?”
They both nodded. Well, nodded as much as they could, with their heads pressed into the floor.
“I come back soon, you have the lashers for me. At least fifty. Ain’t playin here. You owe, you pay. Dig?”
More nods. He’d believe that one when he saw it. He’d already put Wayne in a cast once, a year and a half or so past. Since then he’d been good on paying, mostly, but he’d started slipping again. “Ain’t gonna keep givin you the chances, Wayne. Don’t make me get mad, aye?”
He let go of their necks and stood up fast, pushing himself back as he did so he hit the doorway before they started to get up. Fuck. The last thing he needed was Slobag getting he nose in this, but when had the world gave a fuck what he needed?
C
HESS AIN'T LOOKED
like she were home; her car weren’t outside, and he didn’t see any lights on in her place, neither. Fuck. Hadn’t seen her in two days now. Were dumb keeping track, but it were still true. And he was edgy and pissed off—weren’t unusual, to be fair—and … would be cool to see her, was all. Even only for a while, cause he were seeing Amy that night.
And he were gonna see Bump, too, but not for half an hour or so. To kill the time he wandered in the Market. He had a large number of quiet snitches—he guessed they weren’t really snitches, since they talked only to him and he sure as fuck weren’t no cop—but they gave him what knowledge they had, mostly on where he might find whoever had some owes that day, but sometimes on other shit too. Shit he might could use. He’d find a few of em there, and from there he could maybe head out and find more, see what was being said.
Unfortunately he found out what was being said almost as soon as he got to the Market. He’d headed for Edsel’s booth, thinking there was a chance Chess might be there, but she weren’t. He liked Edsel, though. Got to know him a little better, hanging out with Chess, and liked him.
And Ed heard on everything. Maybe causen everybody liked him, maybe causen he were so good at being quiet, maybe causen he wife had she one of the biggest families Terrible ever knew of. Whatany reason for it, though, he did.
“Hey, Terrible,” Ed said, as Terrible walked up to the booth. The front table was covered in magic shit; Terrible even knew what some of it were now, iron and bones and little bottles of blood. “You right?”
Terrible nodded. “You?”
“Aye, be all good, all right up.” Edsel leaned forward some, holding he hat with one hand while he glanced around. Least Terrible figured he were glancing around, seeing as how Ed wore them dark glasses to protect his eyes. “Hear we maybe got weselves a ghost problem hereabouts.”
“What?” A ghost? Where the fuck that came from?