11

I was face-to-face with Director Relway of the Unpublished Committee for Royal Security. Most people would not recognize the runt if he was snapping around their ankles, but I had butted heads with him several times. He was smiling. That was so unusual that I made sure my pockets hadn’t been picked already.

It was too late to make sure that I had an escape route plotted.

The ugly little man commanded more genuine hurt-you power than almost anybody but the queen of the underworld. He could intimidate the King himself, and all the sane people on the Hill. Irk Deal Relway and you could fall off the stage of the world forever. Irk him badly enough and he might arrange for you never to have existed at all.

Only some crazy Hill folk and lunatic criminal bosses, like the Contague family, were not afraid of Deal Relway.

Belinda Contague, who headed the main Outfit, had all the power Relway had, and more people she could set to doing dirty deeds.

In his heart of hearts, Director Relway would like to rename his Royal outfit the Unpublished Committee for State Security. But by whatever name his people are the secret police.

He recognizes neither constraints nor limits where law enforcement is concerned. I’ve never seen him abuse his power for his own benefit, but you surely don’t want to be a crook and catch his eye. More so, you don’t want to get caught up in any corruption. Relway has a true problem grasping the finer points of baksheesh. He seems sure that a request for a bribe is actually an appeal for a set of broken fingers.

“Why are you nervous, Garrett?”

“I’m usually nervous when people step out of character.”

He understood. His grin broadened. His companion was just as nervous as I was. She edged toward her post, hoping to be out of sight and mind before the real Deal came stomping back.

He told me, “I’m just in a good mood, Garrett. Feeling fulfilled. Unless you’re on some preemptive mission to deceive us, of course.”

Ah. The real Deal was on his way. Only. .

Only not so much. He twisted the knife by slapping on another happy grin. “Helenia tells me you want to report illegal activity. That’s marvelous. It gives me hope that we’ve actually begun getting through to you.” Pause a couple of heartbeats for dramatic effect, not so I could wedge in a response. Then, “But what makes me happiest of all is that you brought me Preston Womble.” He extended his right hand to indicate the men who had gone out into the rain, now returning, bringing with them a goofy-looking little bald guy who was ready to break out in tears.

I observed, “Huh?”

“He was the one following you.”

The huge man, who had a hold on Womble that engulfed Preston’s upper right arm, reported, “He says he’s been on the job since yesterday, boss. Picked Garrett up on the Hill last night.”

Seemed like Preston Womble, whom I had made up so I could get some attention, was not inclined to keep his mouth shut. Relway would appreciate that.

The Director grunted, told me, “You brought him to us so we could sweep him up. You get points for that. I’ve wanted to chat with Preston for a long time, but his girlfriend always smells us coming before we can close the trap.”

I restated my thesis. “Huh?” How come I never spotted Womble? Was I so distracted these days that I couldn’t tell when I was being tailed?

Apparently so.

That wasn’t good. It wasn’t promising in my line of work.

One of the smaller red tops announced, “He wasn’t alone, Chief. Elona Muriat was with him.”

“Of course she was. But she got away,” Relway said. “Naturally, she got away. She always does. We’ll just make do with Preston.” He glowered at the little bald man, who tried to melt like a slug dancing on salt. Relway told me, “Muriat is so slick she’ll slide out of her own skin one of these days.”

I found myself at a loss for meaningful words, but nevertheless managed to croak, “Who are these people? I never heard of them.”

“They belong to a new crop of lowlifes that ripened while you were on hiatus.”

For one reason or another, mostly the woman who preceded Strafa, I had left the adventurous life till I fell into the mess where Strafa hijacked my future. We had been acquainted before, but neither of us had been in emotional circumstances where we could acknowledge our mutual interest.

“Um.”

“Garrett. I like a man who knows when to keep his mouth shut. All right. Details. Preston and Elona are freelancers. Not exactly a couple. Friends with benefits, possibly. They don’t always work together. They aren’t heavy work types. They’re more like you. Nosies. Preston has guts in action but not much courage in static sets like interrogations. He’ll tell us why he was watching you if he knows. Or, at least, he’ll tell us who paid him to do it.”

Interesting that he called them lowlifes, then told me they were in the same racket as me. I would file that as something worth remembering.

One of Relway’s beefy boys hustled up. “Preston is babbling already, Chief. Him and Muriat was hired to follow this guy, just to see where he went and who he talked to.”

“He name any names?”

“Vicious Min.”

Relway did a silent “Huh?” response. “Who?”

I said, “And there is another name that I don’t know.”

“Marty?” Relway made a two-handed, come-on gesture.

“Preston says female, middle age, very large, giants in the family a ways back, teeth like a piranha that never learned to brush, breath to match, and a real badass attitude. Plus a lousy sense of style. Says he’s sorry, but he was so intimidated he didn’t take a closer look. Says Muriat can give us more when we catch her.”

Relway sneered. “Like that’s going to happen. All right. Sweat his ass. We can’t charge him for anything because stupid isn’t a crime yet, but we can hold him on suspicion, or in protective custody, or some damned thing.”

The ugly little man eyed me then, like he thought I belonged in the cell next to Womble. And might have entertained the notion, if for no better reason than that free — lancers aren’t under adequate state control.

Relway said, “So, Garrett, you think there’s a connection between what you want to tell me and the fact that you have some intellectual cousins riding in your hip pocket?”

“Probably. But I couldn’t guess why.”

Hell I couldn’t, considering that I was connected to the Algardas now. I wasn’t just going to get the Strafa loving. Everything else that came with a Hill family was coming to me now, too, at least out there at the edge of their dust cloud.

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