20 THAT CRUEL LOOK

“Hello, Grafton,” Russ said. “How did you get out?”

“You got me out,” I told him. “I told them I didn’t know how you’d done it, but I knew you pretty well and I could help them find you. You want to hear the rest of it?”

“Sure.” Russ took one of the old wooden chairs. “They bought it?”

“Right. Especially a senior operator named Naala. I’ll introduce you to her by and by. She sort of adopted me. I helped her with this and that, and they made me an operator myself.”

“I hope you’re not going to snap the cuffs on me.”

Magos X said, “He will not.”

“Right,” I said. “What I’m going to try to do is show them that you’re worth a lot more to us loose than locked in a cell. We’ll offer a deal. You work for us, and when the job’s wrapped up we let you go back to America with our blessings.”

He looked skeptical, so I added, “That’s not just you, that’s you and Rosalee. I’ve sprung her already, by the way.”

Magos X said, “Well, well, well!”

“She’s a dish,” I told him. “Wait til you see her.”

“You are going to have to do a lot more explaining,” Russ said, “before I buy into any of this.”

“Then I’ll do it. This is your big chance to get home safe, and I wouldn’t want to see you blow it.”

Magos X was pouring coffee for Russ and everything got quiet for a minute. Then Russ said, “Yours, too, Grafton.”

“No way! I quit worrying about me yesterday.” That was stretching it a little, but it is what I said. “Just look at it. I’m a JAKA man with a badge and a gun. They send me out alone to snoop, because I’m good at it and I’ve turned up some major stuff for them. Ever tried to get in touch with the American embassy?”

It took Russ a while, but in the end he nodded.

“I thought so. I know where it is, and I know I told you my dad was in the State Department. Okay, his old pals are still around.”

Russ did not look completely convinced but he was coming over; so I said, “Listen up. This is no bullshit. I could go out on the street right now, stop a police car, and tell the cop to take me to the embassy. And he’d do it. If you were in my shoes, would you worry?”

“Probably not, if that’s all true.”

I pulled my gun. “Gun, okay? I’d shoot it for you but it would make holes in the ceiling.” I showed him my badge. “Silver, okay? Naala’s is gold. Maybe she’ll let you touch it.”

“Do you really know where the embassy is?”

I pointed. “Over that way, in a little park. Nice and private, and if you drive past, or walk, you don’t think there’s anything in there. Magos X here would know, too. Did you ask him?”

Slowly Russ nodded.

“Only you didn’t go.”

“I went, but after dark. I can’t afford to be seen.”

“And it was closed.”

Russ nodded again.

“You must know the Unholy Way’s trying to kill you. We found the big doll in your tent.”

“You know about that.” Russ looked tired.

“Sure we do. What do you know about the head? The one they threw into Naala’s place?”

Russ’s eyes went wide and Magos X said, “I must hear of this. Tell me, please.”

“Sure. Naala’s door was locked and she’s supposed to have the only key, so they picked the lock. Or else they got another key somewhere. Whoever it was tossed the head in and beat it. The thing is, it was Butch Bobokis’s. I doubt that you ever met him, but Russ knows who he was.”

Russ said, “He was a JAKA man. He used to question us, question Grafton here and me, while we were in prison. What’s this got to do with the doll, Grafton?”

“You left that doll in our cell, figuring it would fool anybody who saw it, which it did. Also figuring the JAKA wouldn’t know how to use it, which was right, too. The last time I saw it was when Butch and Aegis pulled me out and questioned me about it. They had it then. I told them how you got the face on, but that was all I told them. I had already seen a note Rosalee wrote that said you were sick. When I saw Butch’s head I knew why. They had made a cut in the face and let some of the pellets out, but Butch must have put them back in and sewed up the cut. Then the Unholy Way had gotten their hands on the doll, and they knew how to use it against you.”

Russ muttered, “Right.”

“We took it out of there and left it in the woods. I didn’t know what to do with it. If we’d burned it…” I shrugged. “I don’t think you would have liked that.”

“Could the sunlight hit it?”

I didn’t know what Russ was getting at, but I said it could, at least in the morning.

“Good. That’s how you wipe the face.”

“Super. But they could put yours back on, right? If they had a picture of you and the doll. Butch and Aegis had wiped it, so they must have one.”

Russ shrugged. “Maybe.”

“They probably know the spells. They’re in the little book.”

“Right. But they may not want to use them.”

I thought about that and decided I might be getting out of my league. So I said, “You want to go back to the States. You and Rosalee.”

He nodded.

“The JAKA, me included, wants to put a stop to the Unholy Way. If you’ll agree to help us, I think we can get the brass at JAKA headquarters to put you on a plane to Germany when we’ve wrapped things up. You speak good German, so—”

“Wait up. How did you find out I spoke German?”

“There’s a shop where they sell magic tricks. They bought some dolls from you. I talked to the old man who runs the place and he said no Americans had been in. I showed him your picture—”

“You’ve got my picture? Let me have it, please.”

I got it out and handed it over, and watched Russ tear it up.

Magos X said, “He fears you will be captured.”

“Sure, but I could get another copy where I got that one. Only I don’t think I will. I’ve found him now.”

“You’ve found me,” Russ said. He had gone over to the stove. “Only it’s not going to do you a hell of a lot of good.” He dropped the torn pieces in the stove.

“You’re saying you won’t help us?”

“Be the worm on the JAKA’s hook? No, I won’t.” Russ turned to face me. “I’ve fished a lot, Grafton, and I know what happens to the worm.”

I drank some coffee. It was pretty good, and I knew I wouldn’t be around there much longer.

Magos X said, “There must be another way you can find and arrest them. Yes?”

I nodded. “Sure. But there isn’t any other way I can see to get Russ back home. Can he have free room and board here with you for another month?”

“He can.”

“What about three years?”

“Yes, but he must be useful to me.”

“Got it.” I stood up. “When you gave me the coffee, I said I might work all night. Now I don’t think I will. I feel like crashing.”

“You must yawn when you say it,” Magos X instructed me. “The yawn lends verisimilitude.”

“Okay.” I stretched and yawned. “Would you like to see the Unholy Way wiped out?”

“I would be most happy.”

“Then maybe you can talk him into it.”

Magos X showed me to the door and we chatted a little. With Russ still at the back of the house, both of us were a little more relaxed. “I wish you peace and good fortune,” Magos X said before I left. “I do not know how effective my blessing may be. It goes and it returns. But you shall have it.” Then he whispered in a language I thought was probably Latin.

I did not feel blessed while I walked back to Naala’s apartment. It seemed to me that the only thing to do was to empty the bag for her and see if she had anything to suggest. The JAKA could pick Russ up, sure. And Baldy and Naala could use him for bait after that for as long as they wanted, casting him here and there and grabbing everybody who bit. Only there was no guarantee they would let him go home when they were through, and in fact they most likely would not. So I tried to figure a way around that and came up empty.

Naala was wide awake and dressed, something I had more or less expected, sitting at her desk drumming her fingers. She said, “You have found out a thing important?”

“Maybe,” I told her, “but I kind of doubt it. I’ll open the bag for you if you’ve got the time.”

“This ring.” She pointed to her phone. “It ring most seldom. But it ring five minutes ago. I listen—”

It rang again. I stared, and I think she did, too. Then she picked it up.

When she put it down, she said, “I answered. This you hear. I say I am Naala and give my number.”

I nodded. “Right.”

“No one speaks. Not far off I hear music and glasses. People talk. No one speaks into the telephone. They hang up. Five minutes ago it is the same. What does this mean, do you think?”

I did not know, and I said so.

“Then I tell what I think. The one who telephones knows you live here with me. He wishes you to answer. That he wishes most fervently, because he calls twice. If this telephone rings again, you must answer.”

I nodded. I would if she wanted me to. Then I began telling her about Volitain in Puraustays, because Magos X had said he knew him and I thought it might be a good way to lead into it. I had just gotten to our three-way deal on the Willows when the phone rang again. Naala motioned to me, and I picked it up.

“Grafton. Five, five—”

“This’s Rosalee.” It was in English and there was a lot of noise where she was, but she was good and loud. “Will you come here? Like please? You’re a good friend, you’re the only good friend I’ve got.” She sounded a little drunk.

“Sure,” I said. “Only you’ve got to tell me where you are. Tell me and I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

“Okay.” She started talking to somebody with her. I could hear their voices, both women, but I could not make out what they were saying.

I looked at Naala and said, “It’s Rosalee and some other woman, and I’d bet money they’re sitting in a bar. What I want to know is how come this woman’s got a cell phone? Nobody here has them, and most people don’t have any kind of phone.”

“It is Aliz? We leave Rosalee with her.”

Another girl on the phone: “Grafton? It is Martya! Kiss, kiss!”

I said, “Kissy, kiss, hug, hug, kiss! Where are you, Martya?”

“We are in Golden Eagle. Aliz is friends with the manager, so drinks on the house! You come, you get free drinks and we dance.”

“Okay, Martya! I’ll be there as soon as I can. Wait for me.” I was looking at Naala when I said that, and she nodded. “Is this Aliz’s phone you’re using?”

“She lets Rosalee use it and tells the number where are you, Grafton.”

“She’s a nice girl. So are you, darling. Maybe she wants to talk to me, too?”

More voices off.

“Something’s up,” I whispered to Naala.

She nodded again. She had her gun out, checking it.

“Aliz is busy,” Martya told me. “She is talk to some man, not so handsome like you.”

I said, “Good! That’ll give me more time for you. Be there as fast as I can.” I hung up.

Naala was at the door. “Where they are? It is Golden Eagle?”

I joined her. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Aliz is take them there. JAKA own it. She is look for Rathaus, I think.”

It took me a minute, then I nodded. “Show Rosalee and maybe he’ll come. Martya, too. She was working with him. Only she gave Rosalee her phone and your number. Why would she do that?”

We were outside by then. It was about nine, with no moon or stars and only a few streetlights. They are never really big on streetlights in that country.

Naala had been thinking. “Two reasons. First reason, Aliz believe you are know where Rathaus hide and you will tell her.”

I said, “The first part’s right, but the second part’s wrong. Unless you want me to. Do you?”

Naala shook her head. “Second reason. There will be trouble soon, she think. Already she ask more operators and they send two. Always they send no more. Two only.” Naala looked like she wanted to spit.

“I get it! Rosalee phones your apartment. If she talks to either one of us both of us will probably come, which gives Aliz two more guns. Nobody can say she wasn’t authorized to ask for us, because she didn’t. Is it the Unholy Way?”

“This I think.” Naala was walking fast and so was I. “I am their Undead Dragon perhaps, or another leader. I am tell that Rosalee is in the Eagle. You understand? We of the JAKA want Rathaus because he will bring us the Unholy Way. The Unholy Way want Rosalee because she will bring them Rathaus.”

I was keeping an eye out for police cars, and I think Naala was, too. We did not get one, but we still got to the Golden Eagle pretty quickly, pushing our way through the crowds in a Mousukos street with a lot of bars and clubs and noise. Like I said, we walked fast and it was not far.

The Golden Eagle was bigger than I had expected, with a long bar all down one side of the big room, a bandstand and a dance floor, and gaming tables. Bright lights on the bandstand and gaming tables, dim on the bar and the dance floor. The band was taking a break, so I could not judge just then, but a lot of people looked like they had been dancing, which is usually a good sign. The whole place smelled of beer, something that was probably floor wax or furniture polish, and cigarette smoke.

Aliz was sweating and laughing at something the guy with her had said. He was mopping his face with a clean white handkerchief. It took me maybe three seconds before I felt sure he was JAKA, and maybe three more to make his piece. On his belt, left side in front, which would mean crossdraw for the right hand. To tell the truth I was thinking there were probably more JAKA there, but nobody else looked right.

Martya plastered herself all over me, saying she wanted to dance.

I said, “Sure, so do I. Only we’ve got to wait til the band comes back.” I figured they were drinking at the bar.

“I will sing and we will dance.”

Which is what we did for maybe five minutes. She had a good voice and was not too drunk to use it. I would give you the lyrics here if I remembered them well enough to translate them. Only my translation would have to scan and rhyme for it to mean much, even then you would not have the feel of the language. It was about telling mom and dad to suck socks, and doing whatever you wanted to like chugging booze and smoking grass, and not worrying about the future because there was not going to be any. It was a good song and some other customers joined in, clapping and singing along.

A dozen new people were coming into the bar while we danced and acting like they did not know each other. Only I figured they did. For one thing none of them looked like they belonged, and for another there was the same look on all their faces. When a cruel person is about to have some real fun, sticking it to somebody who cannot fight back and laughing about it, and doing it all over again only worse, he gets a certain look. It is not the same way a hungry person looks at food, but that is as close as I can come. You have probably seen it a few times. Think about it.

There were men and women—more women than men, which kind of surprised me—and they all had that look. One time I sat around with three whores in Vienna. They all looked hard, if you know what I mean. They did not like men, but they had to pretend they did. That was part of it. Another part was that they had taken it on the chin more than once, and cried, and gotten up and cried some more, and wiped their eyes, and kept going. They had done that a lot and they were going to do it a lot more and they knew it. I did not like that look, but it did not scare me. This did.

Most of the women were not good-looking, but three or four were okay and two were knockouts. A year ago those two would have scared me green, but now I figured I could talk to them without stammering although I sure did not want to.

A little man with buck teeth under a rusty mustache came over to Rosalee. “You are so beautiful,” he told her. “I am a photographer and I wish to take your portrait.”

He got out a card and gave it to her. “You will love it and I will give you copies without charge but you must permit me….”

She turned away and started talking to the man who had been talking to Aliz, not saying anything particular, just chattering until the photographer went away. In back of him I could see an ugly raw-boned woman in a black-and-white polka-dot dress setting up a camera with a big flash. Off to the side a couple of others were setting up slave flashes. Just in case you do not know, a slave flash goes off when it sees another flash, which it does at the speed of light.

“Look there!” the photographer said. He grabbed Rosalee’s shoulders and spun her around. “We make the beautiful portrait.”

I slugged him just as he got the last word out and all three flashes flashed at once.

A lot of times you will see rockers on stage wearing sunglasses. It is not because of the spotlights on them; it is because of flashes from the audience. Usually there is a no-flash rule and security tries to throw out anybody who does it, but some people do not give a shit and they do it anyway. Somebody who steps off the stage by accident can get hurt really bad, and the flashes will blind you.

Which is what happened to us. They had been waiting for all of us to look, and naturally the photographer’s grabbing Rosalee and twisting her around did it. We all looked at her and him and that was good enough. I could not see one damned thing, but I fumbled for my gun anyhow and heard a couple of shots, way, way too loud if you are only used to the shots on TV. Then I heard the boom of a shotgun (later I found out that was what it had been) and people started screaming.

Not just women. Some men were screaming, too.

Almost close enough to touch, a fat guy in a check suit who had been standing at the bar two or three people down from us was bleeding on the floor, gasping and saying, “Oh, God! Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God!” There was a gun on the floor beside him, and I kept thinking somebody ought to pick it up only nobody did.

“Grafton!” That was Naala, turning her head just for an instant as she ran out of the club. She wanted me to follow her and I did, almost tripping over Rosalee, who was on the floor a little in front of me.

Out on the street it was darker than ever, which was bad, but there were a whole lot of people milling around, which was worse. Naala grabbed a guy who was pretty well dressed and shoved her badge in his face. “There was a car, yes? A truck? They force a woman in it?”

He nodded and said something I could not hear.

She asked a couple more questions, and I could see he was saying he did not know. She turned to me. “You saw them? Before the light? You watch them come in?”

I said sure.

“They have put her in a black truck for the dead. There is not room in such a thing for all. Some must be near here, but they scatter, I think. We separate and look. Bring him back to the Golden Eagle. I meet you there.” She pointed. “You go that way.”

I said, “Wait up! They didn’t get her. Didn’t get Rosalee. She was on the floor yelling when I went out. I didn’t see any blood.”

I think Naala stamped her foot. If she did not, she sure looked like she wanted to. “It is not the Rathaus woman they take. It is the other, the one who bring the hand.”

Then she was gone, and all I could think about was that the Unholy Way had Martya.

The way I saw it, the big wheels would have gotten into the hearse. The rest had three choices. Go on foot, getting as far from the scene as they could, or get in a wagon, or go into one of the clubs and mix with the crowd. Three police cars were coming down the street, with people scattering to let them through. I figured they would take care of the people in the clubs, and it would be better for me to go off the way Naala had pointed, looking out for wagons and looking for anybody who had come into the Golden Eagle with the photographer.

Right about here I noticed there was somebody with me, and I might as well tell you about him. It was the third border guard, the guy I saw sometimes riding with cops. I had seen him in JAKA headquarters when they had made me an operator, and three or four times since then. Now he was tagging along. He had on a dark suit, a white shirt, and a dark solid-color tie that was probably navy. Conservative and classy.

As I have said before in this book, all the cops and border guards had never seemed like they noticed him much. Or if they did, it was the way you notice something you are not really interested in. The kids’ books in the dentist’s waiting room, maybe. Something like that. It seemed to me that I ought to speak to him just to let him know I knew he was there and did not mind. If he rode with cops and could get into the JAKA building, maybe he would give me a hand. So I said, “Good to have you along. If you see any of the people we’re looking for, please tip me off. Only nothing obvious.”

He smiled and nodded, looking more like my father than ever.

We went a ways and I heard a locomotive whistle, not like an American locomotive, but like one of the old steam trains you see in movies sometimes. Pretty soon after that, the third border guard turned a corner when I would have gone on straight. At first I thought he was just going off on his own, which was all right with me. But he stopped and looked back at me, and motioned for me to come along.

So I did, walking another eight or nine streets until I found something I had always known must be in the city somewhere, even though I had never been there. It was the railroad station, a red brick building, pretty big, with a little tower with a big clock in it. The clock struck as we started to go in: one, two, three … eleven o’clock. If you backed me into a corner and made me explain why I am telling you all this, I would make a really bad job of it. But it meant something to me. It felt like God was telling me something, but it took me a few minutes to figure out what it was.

The show was about over. We had been looking for Russ. Okay, I had found him. The JAKA (that included me now) had been looking for the Unholy Way. Fine, we had brought it out into the light. Maybe we had not seen all the members, but we had seen a bunch of them in the Golden Eagle and there were probably security cameras. Most of all, the JAKA had been looking for the Unholy Way’s Undead Dragon.

And I was pretty sure I knew who that was. It left a bad taste in my mouth, but that did not change the facts.

God had used the tower and the clock striking eleven to remind me of all that stuff and maybe give me a clue about which way to go. He is good at that.

Загрузка...