Tomorrow, the Killing

27

I slept poorly.

The dinner trade had been sparse and languid, a thin squad of losers out-drinking the coin in their purses. Violent though – twice Adolphus had been forced to leave his perch behind the bar and express to our patrons the necessity of tranquility in fashion both sanguinary and ironic. At the end of the night Adeline had soaked blood out of her mop. Hadn’t been the first time, wouldn’t be the last.

I’d spent the evening alternating shots of liquor and snorts of breath, and trying to convince myself that the death of Iomhair Gilchrist wouldn’t lead directly to my own. It had been dark in the alleyway – too dark, I hoped, to make out faces. The fact that the bowman had mistaken his own for me was proof enough of that. If he had recognized me, though, the whole thing was fucked sideways. Pretories less than half-trusted me as it was – if he heard I’d been freelancing he’d put me down, no sense leaving me around to make trouble. It would be the smart move and, despite his missteps, I didn’t think Joachim a fool.

Practically speaking, of course, it didn’t matter. I was in it to the hilt. That’s the thing about sprinting downhill – you run it out or you tumble.

Around one o’clock I’d climbed up to the roof, angled my feet off the balcony and rolled a spliff. Somewhere out in the darkness men were dying because of me. They weren’t very good men, I supposed – the thugs and bully-boys Artur Giroie the Second had hired to watch his shipment of poison. But then I wasn’t a very good man either, and perhaps shouldn’t be so casual with the lives of my confederates in immorality.

It was a long time before I’d gone to bed, and as I mentioned, I hadn’t had much success once I’d gotten there.

My morning schedule was light. Apparently Wren’s was as well, because I’d been up for a solid hour before he made an appearance, and I’m no early riser.

He came in finally from the back, yawning and shirtless, thin as gristle, skin stretched over bone. ‘Anything left for me?’

I forked a last morsel of egg into my mouth. ‘You’re a resourceful child. I’m confident you’ll find something.’

He scowled unhappily, then took a seat at my table.

I pulled out the armband Mazzie had given me and passed it over to him. ‘Wear this when you go to your appointment – make sure the local element knows you’ve been marked.’

Wren eyed it with discomfort bordering on disgust, like I’d dropped a turd onto the table. Then he stuffed it into his back pocket and muttered something.

‘What was that?’

‘I don’t see the point.’

‘I thought I clarified it during our last conversation.’

‘I don’t need any help. I can figure out what I need to on my own.’

‘You can’t, but that wasn’t what I meant. If you don’t go see Mazzie tomorrow I’m going to hang you out the window by your fucking ankles. That firm up your schedule?’

The threat left him silent for a whole five seconds. Then he wiped his nose with a dirty hand and continued, ‘Adolphus has a speech tomorrow.’

‘That didn’t interest me the first time I heard it.’

‘It’s a big deal. There might be five thousand men watching him.’

‘So you can ask one of them how it went.’

‘It’s important to him. He’s a hero, you know.’

‘Is he? I hadn’t heard.’

‘He held the line at Aunis. Killed twenty men single-handed.’

‘That what makes a man a hero? Killing a lot of people?’

‘It does if they’re Dren.’

‘You meet a lot of Dren in Low Town?’

He shook his head.

‘You ever watch a man burn to death? You ever smell a man char?’

He swallowed hard, but kept his eyes on mine.

‘You won’t ever look at a chop steak again the same way, I can guarantee you that much.’

Now he did look away, craning his neck to avoid my gaze.

‘Wouldn’t be so quick to talk about glory neither, I’d reckon.’ I sipped my coffee and turned to look out the window. ‘Keep that sloppy cunt mouth of yours shut around me from now on, or I’ll close it myself.’

There was a long pause, and I thought he might take the advice. But there was still too much of the savage in him to swallow my abuse without spitting some back out. ‘I think you’re jealous.’

I laughed. ‘You nailed it. They didn’t pin enough tin to my chest, and I’ve never forgiven them for it.’

‘I’m going to Adolphus’s speech.’

‘You trying to make me cross? ’Cause I’m halfway there already.’

‘You don’t tell me what to do.’

‘Don’t I?’ I asked, and by then my humour had quite turned. My hands were around his shoulders, and I was pulling him out of his seat when I was interrupted by a noise at my side.

‘What’s going on here?’ Adeline’s voice is perpetually pitched midway to hectoring, but this time I think she really meant it.

‘Just talking,’ I said, letting go of Wren’s shoulders.

Her eyes thinned to slits, a dash in the series of conjoined circles that composed her body and face. ‘I know about your kind of talking.’ She turned to Wren. ‘Chores, now.’

He shot hate at me for a second, then slithered off. ‘You’ll be at Mazzie’s,’ I called to his back. ‘Don’t fucking think otherwise.’

I sat back down. Adeline remained standing beside me, but given her height we were about level.

‘What was that about?’ she asked.

‘Just impressing upon our boy the importance of a strong education.’

‘You’ve been “impressing” things on him a lot lately.’

‘Was that a joke? How droll. I thought you’d be on my side with this. Weren’t you the one bugging me to get him a teacher? I get him one and my return is nothing but hassle.’

‘He’s scared,’ she said evenly. ‘You could see that if you weren’t up to your ears in whatever mess you’re making.’

‘The world is a scary place – the sooner he learns to fear it the better off he’ll be.’

‘Is that why you put bruises on him? To teach him some caution?’

‘Mostly it’s just because he gets on my fucking nerves.’

I was trying to goad her, but it didn’t have that effect. ‘Your nose is bleeding,’ she said finally.

I put two fingers against my upper lip. She was not wrong – I hadn’t realized I’d been hitting the breath so hard.

‘Did you bump it against something?’

I’d rolled a cigarette for after breakfast, and figured this was a solid time to start on it. ‘You know me. Clumsy as an ox.’

‘What the hell is going on?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Agents coming by the Earl? You and Adolphus huffing at each other? What con are you running, and where is it gonna leave us? The last time you pulled something it almost got Wren killed, do you remember that? What trouble are you bringing down on us now?’

‘You want me gone? Is that what this is? All you gotta do is ask. Course, you might find things ain’t so easy out from beneath my coattails. Not like the Earl is some great moneymaker. How much have I sunk into this place over the years, bridge loans during the dry seasons? It must be nice, drifting so far above it, hands clean as buttermilk and a conscience to match. I imagine it’s quite an embarrassment having someone like me in your house, a common criminal.’ Smoke streamed through ruptured nostrils. ‘But you take my coin, don’t you, Adeline – and you ask my favor, when you need it.’

She recoiled into silence. Her mouth shuttered up and down, silently weathering the blow.

Nothing like striking a saint to buff your self-image. It was time to get going, ten or fifteen minutes past time. By now Artur Giroie would be aware that his shipment had been smashed and his boys killed. He’d be angry, and he’d be looking for a direction to aim that anger. I figured I might be of some service to him.

‘You have a nice morning,’ I told Adeline, yet to recover from my abuse. ‘I gotta ride a man off a cliff.’