The Mysteries of Holly Diem (Unknown Kadath Estates Book 2)

by Zachary Rawlins

  “Guess he’s not going to say anything else.” I tore a strip from the cleanest looking blanket and used it to wrap the tear in my forearm, cursing the unexpected clumsiness of my fingers. “What now?”

  “What the fuck do you think?”

  Jenny gave the girl a quick, furious kick to the liver. The girl groaned, curled up in a ball against the wall, and then proceeded to vomit extensively.

  “Oh, fuck this shit.” Jenny recoiled in disgust. “Preston, she’s your problem.”

  The girl moaned loudly and the burst into tears.

  “Why? I didn’t even learn anything worth knowing…”

  “I know the name, asshole. Neil already told me. I just thought it would sound better, coming from him,” Jenny snapped. “We gotta take care of this bitch first, though. She saw our faces, heard our names.”

  I was genuinely surprised, and didn’t bother to conceal it.

  “I had no idea you cared about the sort of thing.”

  “I don’t.” Jenny gave me a malevolent grin. “You do. So take care of it.”

  The girl moaned and shrieked intermittently. I had no idea who else lived in the house, but they clearly had a surplus of either soundproofing or total indifference. The noise, the drugs, what was rapidly becoming the dead body of a drug dealer – these combined into a stew of acidic nervousness in my gut. I gave serious consideration to the idea of heading for the door…but Jenny was right. I needed the name...and I couldn’t allow any of this to get back to me.

  My head felt dull and slow, my movement tenuous.

  “This is your thing. Clean up your own mess.”

  Jenny smirked.

  “Make me.”

  “Give me a break…”

  “Nope.”

  “This is ridiculous.”

  Jenny inspected her injured hand. There was a deep cut across the palm, no doubt from the safety razor, and a chunk missing from the tip of her left pinkie.

  “You created this situation. All of it. Take responsibility.”

  Jenny smirked, and stuck out her tongue like a child.

  “No.”

  “Why?” I grabbed at Jenny’s arm, but she twisted and immediately reversed the grip, shoving me away. “What do you care?”

  “Longer we wait, better the chances we get caught,” Jenny reminded me, shoving me away and then digging through the desk drawers. “You might wanna finish this up tonight.”

  I sighed and looked at the woman whimpering against the base of the wall, her body curled tight and hair hiding her face.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  Jenny smiled and leaned against the desk.

  “I’ve got an open mind. Surprise me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Jenny glanced at the clock in the desk, and then yawned dramatically. I wondered if that meant the drugs weren’t working.

  “Means whatever. Have fun with it.”

  The girl ran for it. In admiration of her tenacity, I hesitated long enough for her to dash past me. She went for the door, but instead of risking the broken glass and treacherous footing of the ruins of the table in the center of the room, she elected to skirt it, sprinting with her teeth clenched as she neared Jenny Frost.

  Bad choice.

  Jenny waited until she was very nearly free and clear, and then she kicked the girl’s ankle, causing her legs to collide and tripping her up. The girl tumbled to the carpet, crying out when her skin met broken glass. Jenny walked over casually and put the toe of her sneaker on the back of the girl’s head. The carpet muffled her shrieking as her face ground against it.

  “What the fuck?” Jenny turned her attention to me with a snarl, continuing to pin the girl in place with her foot. “She almost got away.”

  “More your problem than mine.”

  “She knows your name, Preston Tauschen,” Jenny snarled. “And now she knows you live at the Kadath Estates, in the Empty District. Good enough? Or maybe it would be better if she knew about the girl you keep hidden in your bedroom…”

  “Enough,” I said, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to avert the headache I felt coming on. “Don’t say it. What do you want?”

  “I want Neil to finish the fucking story, because you’re never really gonna believe me,” Jenny said, emphasizing her words by stomping on the back of the whimpering girl’s head. “I want what’s inside that safe. I want a million fucking things. But, right now, I mostly just want to see your bad side, Preston. The rest of you is boring.”

  I sighed, put one hand to my aching lower back. It had been an absurdly long night, and my couch seemed very far away. The only sound was the muffled complaint of the girl on which Jenny stood.

  I suppose we all just wanted to go home.

  Except for Jenny. She doesn’t have a home; also, she is an awful bitch.

  “If that’s what it takes. You’ll tell me the name?”

  Jenny lifted her foot. The girl rolled over and moaned. Her face was a mess.

  “You better make it worth my while. Make it interesting.” Jenny stepped away, leaning against the wall. Her eyes smoldered like a burning book. “Neil’s customer was Elijah Pickman,” Jenny added, crossing her arms and nodding at the girl. “Weird motherfucker that he is. You know he likes to watch the Estates at night, from the abandoned buildings on Leng Street? I’ve seen it. You think maybe he’s after that little girl you keep locked in your bedroom?”

  “I hate you, Jenny.”

  “I told you that you would. C’mon, Preston. Give me a show.”

  8. The Fate of the Three Sisters

  The consequences of magical thinking.

  The hallway was the same as before. No one seemed at all curious about the loud, awful things that had been happening at the other end of the hall. Chalk that up to the Nameless City, or the sad state of human nature; it makes no difference to me philosophically. Practically, however, it meant I could probably skip burning the place down, since there were all of these convenient suspects at hand.

  Police are the same everywhere. Want to get away with nearly any crime? Gift-wrap a solution that fits with law enforcement prejudices and preconceptions.

  Jenny led the way, humming to herself, a stimulant-inspired spring in her step. She was clearly in a good mood, probably because I was feeling low. We passed one door that was dark, but emitted faint sounds of what was probably a very bad dream, and then another where light and laughter spilled out beneath the door. A universal desperation permeated the house, and made me feel as if the air was thin, and I was eager to be out the door and away from this place forever.

  The door opened smoothly, and we slid outside. Occupied with closing it quietly behind us, I didn’t notice that Jenny had come to a halt at the edge of the stoop, beside empty raised beds and dead gardenias. I nearly ran her over on my own way out to the street, but then I noticed the same thing Jenny had, and performed my own statue routine.

  Yael waited for us on the sidewalk, gas mask up on top of her head, arms folded across her slim chest. Dunwich sat in front of her and watched us with a thoughtful air, while Snowball sat comfortably atop a garden fence at the end of the drive, using a back paw to scratch his neck. Arrayed around them were the feline residents of Ulthar, occupying every conceivable surface, cats by the dozen. Most were hardened strays, and came in every hue and size imaginable, including a few big cats in the shadows that didn’t appear to be of the domestic variety. All stared at us with the menacing patience unique to felines.

  I had sudden insight as to how a mouse must feel when cornered by those sleek beasts.

  “I’m disappointed,” Yael said, pushing her mask up so we could see her frown, “with both of you.”

  It was like a car crash. Unabashedly captivating, assuming you can avoid participation.

  “C’mon, listen – you’ve got this all wrong.”

  Jenny wheedled like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, while Yael glared and stomped. I hav
e to admit that it was moderately entertaining, excepting the moments when I was burnt by the fireworks.

  “Do I?” Yael’s voice and demeanor were so stern you would have thought she was Jenny’s mother, instead of a girl several years her junior. “What, exactly, are the two of you up to? You seem awfully nervous.”

  That wasn’t true. Jenny was weirdly nervous, but I was mostly tired. It had been a long, awful night, and I was feeling fuzzy and distracted, with cottonmouth and slightly blurred vision.

  “Working on the thing, you know?” Jenny was using her hands extensively while talking, in a sort of elaborate pantomime. “I remembered hearing something that I thought Preston would want to know, so I figured I’d bring him down here…”

  “Him, and not me, hmm? And why is that?”

  “I just…you know. Wasn’t sure it would be…ah…safe.”

  “You didn’t trust me to handle a stupid drug house?” Yael’s voice trembled. “After all we’ve been through?”

  There it was again. At some point, I needed to hear the details on the history they shared.

  “That isn’t it!” Jenny backpedaled frantically. “These are bad places, you know? I know you can handle it, I just…I didn’t want to drag you through it with me. You know Preston’s a piece of shit as well as I do, Princess. This is his sort of scene.”

  I wanted to object, but no one would have believed me.

  “Enough of that sort of language,” Yael snapped. “And don’t call me that.”

  “Look, I didn’t mean…” Jenny hung her head, in a not-particularly convincing display of contriteness – though her need to make the display at all was revelatory. “I didn’t want you to see how I live. That’s all.”

  To my shock, Yael shook her head and seized Jenny by the shoulders. Rising to her toes to compensate for the height difference, Yael wrapped Jenny in a tight embrace. Jenny went rigid in her arms, her jaw dropped in surprise.

  “You’re so dumb,” Yael said warmly. “I know all about you, Jenny. I don’t care.”

  Well that was…something.

  “You don’t know everything, Princess,” Jenny said, gently separating herself from Yael, and then giving me a very long and pointed glare, basically daring me to say something – anything – about the situation. “You’re…better than that, you know?”

  “Please.” Yael turned to me, and I snapped to attention. Snowball watched intently, and I could have sworn that the mangy old stray found the whole affair hilarious. “Why didn’t you find me before you started, Preston, if you thought this might be relevant to our investigation?”

  “I bumped into Jenny on the way back from checking out Iram.” In this case, honesty really was the best policy. Angry Yael was not to be trifled with. “It wasn’t planned.”

  “You don’t have a phone?”

  “I…do. I thought you would still be down by the docks…”

  “The docks?” Jenny perked up. “What for?”

  “Never mind,” Yael snapped. “You should have called, Preston. I came as soon as I heard, but…”

  “I meant to ask, how did you hear?”

  “Dunwich,” she frowned. “One of his friends.”

  “A cat told you?”

  I did my best to appear incredulous.

  “Yes.”

  “Do…do cats talk to you often?”

  “Don’t be silly.” Yael shifted impatiently. “Of course they do.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course.”

  “Snowball told me some things,” Yael added, throwing in a glare for both of us for good measure. “About both of you. You both have a whole bunch to answer for.”

  “Wait, hold up,” Jenny said, breathing into her cupped hands to warm them. “Either of you feel like Chinese food? We can take the late train to Sarnath.”

  The rain had very nearly let up, little more than a light drizzle that beaded on the shoulders and arms of my soaked jacket. The longer I looked, the more cats I counted, watching us from roofs and behind chimneys, hidden amidst gardens or refuse, stalking along the tops of fences and rain gutters. Snowball looked as if he were about to laugh, if a cat could laugh.

  “Not really,” I said sourly. “It’s like four in the morning. They probably closed hours ago.”

  “Oh, trust me,” Jenny said, giving the worst advice I had heard that day. “They’re always open.”

  ***

  The Chinese place was still open. It was actually ridiculously crowded, given the late/early hour. I was tempted to ask our droopy-eyed waiter for the name of the establishment, but I worried that might be some sort of faux paus. When Snowball, Dunwich, and company followed us in, I expected shock and dismay from the patrons, if not the staff. Instead, the procession of cats inspired excited whispers and reverential nods.

  We were seated in a hurry in a private room in the back of the place, the cats taking various discrete positions about the periphery. Snowball settled on a silken cushion at the head of the table, provided by the wizened owner. Wait staff brought green tea in plastic tumblers, and then beer in silver cans for Jenny and myself, along with fish broth for the cats. It was pretty much the last thing I wanted, but it seemed rude to say as much.

  Yael and Jenny hardly spoke on the walk, and I certainly didn’t have anything that I wanted to offer. My fever had kicked back up, and I was a shivering ball of a sweat by the time they brought us menus. All of the lights in the restaurant had fuzzy halos around them, and it was hard to hear Jenny and Yael talking, over the buzzing in my ears, as if an insect had bored its way into my ear canal, and was now insistently flapping its tiny wings in a doomed attempt at escape. I sipped my beer, and it tasted like cleaning solution. I was having a great deal of difficulty keeping my eyes open, but each time I allowed them to drift closed, I was jolted back to reality by visions of the things I had done – sometimes that evening, sometimes ancient history. The cloying smoke of the Azure lingering in the back of my mind, muddying my thoughts.

  …there was a girl, I remembered, a girl strapped to a table. She stank of sweat and urine, the sides of her mouth crusted with bloody foam, like a horse ridden too hard…

  “What the fuck, Preston?” Jenny kicked me under the table. “Answer the question.”

  “Jenny, please.” Yael’s voice was weary. “Language.”

  “Right. I forgot.”

  Yael glanced over her menu at me, pinching her lip as she inspected text that, for all I knew, she read just fine. Maybe I was the only illiterate in the Nameless City.

  “Well?”

  My tongue was stuck to the top of my mouth. It took a sip of tea to free it. It tasted thick, like rancid butter, and I had to choke it down. It hit my stomach, which was already grumbling, and I immediately wished that I had not.

  “What was the question?”

  The room rolled their eyes at me, cats included.

  “Why did you send me to the docks, so you could investigate on your own?” Yael demanded, smacking the unsteady table with her palm. “I thought we were going to work on this together?”

  “I, uh…”

  “You aren’t doing a very good job persuading me of your innocence, you know,” she sniffed. “This seems like exactly the sort of thing a killer would do.”

  “First of all, Sumire isn’t dead,” I countered. “Second…”

  I trailed off, and everyone waited patiently while I racked my brain. Jenny crowed with laughter at the other end of the table, nearly choking on her beer.

  “Yes?” Yael prompted.

  “I thought the lead Josh gave us would be worth following. You didn’t find anything at Holly’s little sister’s place?”

  “That’s not the point,” Yael said, with a scowl. “Why are you concealing things from me?”

  “You’ll have to forgive Preston that particular sin,” Snowball said generously, lapping at the shallow dish the reverent staff had filled with rice wine and placed in front of him. “Untruth is a critical portion of his character.”
/>   I meant to glare at the talking cat, but the gloating look he shot me made that uncomfortable.

  “Great. Now the cats are talking,” I mumbled. “What the hell sort of drug did you expose me to, Jenny?”

  “Azure,” she said, picking her teeth. “My head’s still fuzzy from the secondhand smoke. You’ll probably stop dreaming in a day or two.”

  “What are the two of you talking about?” Yael demanded frantically. “You better level with me, Jenny.”

  Against all expectations, Jenny bowed her head and looked uncomfortable.

  “Wouldn’t lie to you, Princess,” she said quietly, her tone unlike any I had ever heard her use before. “Not about anything important.”

  “What a comfort.”

  They may have argued more. I’m not certain, because I drifted away, not exactly asleep, but not entirely aware. My fever smoldered in my forebrain, my shirt clinging damply to my skin.

  …the way she looked at me, as if she knew everything I’d done, and everything I would do – and none of that bothered her a bit. Maybe she even liked it. I wanted to touch her, and that knowledge came with a sense of inevitability…

  Someone said the name I use, maybe more than once. I blinked until the lights were tolerably bright, and my companion’s faces not quite so blurry. Yael dug through the messenger bag she carried everywhere, and took something from it. She offered me a pair of little white pills, and one big pink chalky one in her palm.

  I took them without complaint, and stared at them blankly.

  “Aspirin and a multi-vitamin,” Yael explained shyly. “You look awful, Preston.”

  I swallowed both with water that crawled down my throat like molasses.