I arched an eyebrow, and Dana continued: “The real clincher for us, though, is the deal making. Nightmares are never known to make deals, but this thing has been keeping promises in exchange for sacrifice for years, and several sources list that as a typical puca behavior. Finally, it seems to have been running a scam on everyone it dealt with for years, acting like it’s doing something helpful for a relatively harmless price. Instead, it has been hurting people, driving them to madness and violence while systematically covering its tracks. That makes more sense if you consider related creatures like good old Billy Shakespeare’s Puck,” she finished with a deep breath, and I nodded.
“If you’ve been doing the research all day, then who am I to argue? So, how do we fight a…puca?” My question seemed to make Dana uncomfortable, and I knew the answer before she even opened her mouth, but I waited for her to speak. I’m a gentleman.
“Well…the only story of anyone getting the best of a puca is one about Brian Boru. He was an Irish king from around a thousand years ago, and he defeated it by bridling it with hairs from its own tail and riding it until it was exhausted. Otherwise…nothing,” she said.
Father O. wandered back over to us, his lips pursed and forehead wrinkled in concern.
“Kelly tells me that she’s going to go take a nap because it won’t be safe for her to sleep after this evening, but that it might not be safe for you to go to sleep now?” he asked. I gave a shrug to indicate my agreement. The information that Dana had shared, along with Kelly’s background and my experiences of the past few days, had all coalesced in my mind, so I laid the situation out to them as I saw it.
“I’ve done everything I can to buy some time for Janice and Richard, but I don’t know what to do to help Kelly or me. The mark on my side seems to be doing an even better job than OMG’s normal methods in letting the…puca track me. I’ve thrown everything I have at it here and in the Dreamscape, but I’ve barely managed to dent it. I might be able to avoid it for another evening, but after it tried to invade your dream, I don’t want to chance being around anyone I care about when I’m on the run. Obviously, I can only stay awake for so long, so I’m on the clock,” I said, putting my hands on Dana’s shoulders before continuing. “I’ve always wanted to be able to really make a difference, and I guess this is my chance.” I looked from one face to another, and I felt my chest swell with pride as I saw determination and, more importantly, trust there. My wife was the first to speak after my little monologue, and although her words were light, the catch in her voice gave away the depth of her feelings.
“I suppose next you’re going to tell me that with great power comes great responsibility? Are we going to sit around here chatting, or are we going to get down to business?” she asked.
“Dana—with the priest right here?” I reached for my belt buckle. “Well, if you’re game, then I am,” I said, undoing a clasp. Father O. blushed again but gave a snort, and she gave the kind of throaty chuckle that I remembered from warm summer evenings when we first met. She had a serious point, though, and we sat down to put together a plan while Kelly and Olivia napped.
A couple hours later, Olivia padded through the door of the side room that she’d been dozing in while we put together a rudimentary plan, and an order of Boboloni’s pizza was on its way. I was almost sure that it would get less than half of us killed; the plan came with no such guarantees.
Our stratagem consisted of three Cs: Communicate, Cut Off, and Cwarantine. First, I needed to make some Calls, and then we needed to try to Cut the link between the puca and its victims (especially yours truly), and finally we needed to Cwarantine it by removing its access to the waking world.
It was early August, and the London evenings still stretched out forever as I made the short trip back to our house to put the first steps in motion. I made three calls from our landline: one to my dad, one to my sister, Lucy, and one to Badger. Of the three, only the least important call was answered; the Detective Inspector picked up after one ring. I explained to him that Kelly and I had fled the disturbance at Shepherd’s Bush, leaving her statement back at the apartment. I got him to agree, without much persuasion, to keep the uniformed officers on watch outside my house.
When neither my dad nor Lucy answered the phone, I had to fight not to throw the piece of plastic and chrome across the room. Dad had crawled inside a bottle after Mom’s disappearance, and my sister had tried to fill the gap by becoming a perfect homemaker at fourteen. I should have called them already after all of the narrow misses this week, but I’d been afraid to open up. Now that I had revealed my secret to several people and was depressingly pessimistic about my chances in the “staying alive” lottery, I desperately wanted to talk to them one more time. I left a message for each and hoped that they’d call back in time; I didn’t want to think about how they’d take it if I too disappeared without saying good-bye. With the easiest part of our plan completed, I gathered up a few odds and ends that Dana had wanted, along with an Elsa doll of Olivia’s that she’d been lost without. Arms loaded down with my haul, I started the two-minute walk back to the church.
“Mr. Adler! Mr. Adler, can you comment on the Saint Mary’s massacre? Did Mr. Buckley threaten you often? Was he frequently drunk or violent at work?” A tall and gangly man in his twenties with thinning, dark hair came bounding down the street toward me, waving a voice recorder and a notebook. As if by magic, a pair of uniformed constables appeared and stepped in front of him. If anyone had wanted to be sure of the location of my police “protection,” then they were now, and I doubted it was accidental that a journalist would accost me here and give away the game. Damn Redderton. It was evident that his threats about my family hadn’t been just boasts, and I surprised myself by whispering silent thanks to DI Badger and his paranoia.
CHAPTER 39 1945–-2030, Tuesday, August 4, 2015
***Tara***
Tara looked around the table. Ena and her pet detective sat across from her while she absently rubbed at her bruised knuckles. Even at nearly eight in the evening, it was still sweltering outside, but the office was cool, a stark contrast to the emotions around the table.
“Kelly’s mistake almost cost us a fortune, but if she goes down on the arson charges, then we’re legally entitled under our articles of incorporation to buy back all of her partnership shares at original value as part of the loss-of-reputation clause,” Tara said, tapping one finger on a specific part of the printout in front of her.
Ena snorted before replying, “How are we going to use a loss-of-reputation clause? Kelly has the biggest reputation of anybody I know.” The redheaded businesswoman’s latest snide remark made Tara grimace, but she couldn’t actually disagree with the sentiment. She was still horrified that Kelly had been feeling up the American’s leg during the meeting. Of course, she was much more horrified at her own loss of control in physically assaulting Julian, but still…
“Look, you know that I’m done with Kelly, but there’s no way that I’m agreeing to use it against her. We’ve been around this again and again. It’s enough to get her locked up and out of the partnership. I had to pull plenty of strings to put that dope Jimmy Badger and his team on her tail so quickly, and we were damned lucky that she decided to brag, while in a public place, about her ridiculous attempt to burn down the office. Let’s just take our good fortune and call it a job done,” Tara said. She’d had this conversation at least four times in the last couple of days and, beyond any lingering fondness for Kelly, as a lawyer she was wary of setting the precedent that it was acceptable to “dispose” of a partner.
“T., she didn’t just try to take away our secret weapon. From what Derrick tells me, the dumb bitch is feeding the filth a story about how we killed off a bunch of our former clients. If that was the case, don’t you think we’d know about it by now?” Ena said, popping a piece of luxury Belgian chocolate into her mouth.
Her words did make a certain sense, but Tara still wasn’t happy that Ena had told their secret to the
Redderton detective. Then again, after he had watched and ultimately foiled Kelly’s attempt to burn the book, there really hadn’t been any choice. In any event, they needed a third for the rituals, and although the idea of taking off her clothes in front of that man made Tara’s skin crawl, it was obvious that Ena had no such inhibitions.
“The filth?” Tara asked, arching a shapely eyebrow at the other woman.
“I’ve lived in London nearly ten years. They say that if you’ve lived here ten years, you can call yourself a Londoner. I can call the police “the filth” if I want to,” Ena’s tone was playfully defensive, and she made the detective chuckle, the first sound he’d emitted in hours.
“Next you’re going to start with the rhyming slang, aren’t you? Look, we’ve discussed this, and it’s settled. It would take all three of us to do the ritual, and I’m out. So let’s quit going around in circles and go grab a ruby,” Tara said. The others all groaned at the rhyming slang but agreed to head to the nearest curry house. Tara was the first one to the door, which she opened with a flourish as she gestured the couple forward, so she didn’t immediately understand what caused the others’ jaws to drop and eyeballs to bug out.
“Tara, Ena, Derrick! So good to see you. I think we have some things to talk about. May I come in?” The American’s accent and voice were unmistakable, and she forced herself to reply.
“Good evening, Mr. Adler.”
***Julian***
I had a wound in my back that pulsed with pain in time with my heartbeat, there was more of me that was bruised than not, and I hadn’t gotten any rest in days, but as I saw the look on Tara Grady’s face, I had to smile.
We’d spent most of the afternoon talking about how we might get our hands on the book and use it to put the Cut Off part of our strategy in play so that we could sever OMG’s link to further supernatural powers. Given the time constraints that we were operating under, we decided that the direct approach would be best. Father O. had recommended a frontal assault, based on his raid in the Philippines, and I didn’t have the heart to remind him that over half the people that went in didn’t come out. Anyhow, I had an ace in the hole.
I’ve spent years observing people’s worst fears, and one thing that is almost universal is the fear of losing control—whether it was being too scared to leave an abusive spouse, too young to choose differently, or too weak to break physical bonds. I’d seen the way that the OMG partners had reacted when I’d been in close proximity to them, and I knew that something about my presence was causing them to lose control. I wished that attractive women lost control around me more often—preferably, but not compulsorily, without trying to kill me in the process.
Following up on the element of surprise and Father O.’s direct approach, I breezed into the office before anyone could think to stop me. “Nice place you have here. Do you have a meeting room where we can get the negotiation started?” I asked, turning to Derrick and quipping over my shoulder, “Could you get me a can of Coke while the adults take care of business?” The effect of my words was satisfying as the detective’s face immediately flushed a deep purple.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tara boomed out behind me, and when I glanced in her direction, I saw her put her hand over her mouth in surprise at the sudden outburst.
“If we’re going to talk, can we at least try to do it at the curry house? I’m staaarving,” Ena said. Her voice was thick and quavering, and if I hadn’t known that she was a psychotic, money-grubbing mass murderer, I might have felt bad. As things were—not so much.
Once she’d woken up, Kelly had filled us in on the layout of the office and provided as many security codes as she had, though we all figured that they must have been changed by now. I headed through the small cubicle jungle without slowing down, picking my way toward the doors of the partners’ office. By the time the others began moving, I’d managed to reach the doors and even started inputting the eight-digit entry combination.
“Mr. Adler, please step away from the door. And I’d like to ask you to leave immediately,” Tara said. The brunette had regained her composure already, although judging from the whiteness of her knuckles, it was a struggle.
“But if I leave immediately, you won’t have the opportunity to discuss this incredible, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that I’ve come to offer you,” I said. I continued punching in the key code and was surprised when there was a slight beep and the door swung open. I didn’t waste any time but instead hustled straight through.
“Oi, arsehole!” It looked like my campaign of shock and awe was about to come to an end as Derrick Redderton finally decided to act. I could see the bookshelf that concealed the ritual room to my left and broke into a run. Tara was only a few feet away from me as I took off, but I’ve got long legs, and she seemed to have already realized that she didn’t want to get any closer to me than she had to, so she didn’t make up any of the ground. Unfortunately, Derrick wasn’t held back by any such consideration, and as I searched for the book that Kelly had indicated, he burst into the room.
“The ladies said that they want you to leave. Do you limp out, or do you leave in a body bag?” he growled. I noted that there was no option in which I simply walked out, but it wasn’t the effect that I had on the two women that was my ace in the hole—it was my negotiation skill. I may have spent my sleeping hours fighting demons, devils, and assorted nasties, but in my waking hours, I’d spent the best part of the last ten years dealing with an even more terrifying bunch of creatures: salespeople.
“Derrick, I could leave right now, but if I did, then I think your employers”—I stressed the word—“would be very unhappy that you’d caused them to miss out on the opportunity to increase the deal space that we’re working in,” I said in my smarmiest voice. I winked, and he pulled a fist back like he was going to punch me. Given the pounding I’d taken over the past week, the idea of a punch from a normal, unpossessed human being didn’t even raise my heart rate.
“Derrick! Stop. I believe that we may have something to discuss with Julian after all,” Ena said. I’d known that if anything was going to get Ena’s attention away from her stomach, it would be the prospect of increasing the size of a deal. Kelly had filled us in on why landing this contract was so important to the others, and I intended to use their obvious desperation to close the deal to maneuver them into doing what I wanted. The detective’s fist stopped half a foot from my face.
“That Coke, please, Derrick?” I asked. One of those Greek philosophers once said that the good and the wise lead quiet lives. I like proving that guy right. I’m a giver.
Tara took the opportunity of having me on the far side of the room to stride in and take a seat at a well-appointed block of wood with a MacBook on it that was evidently her desk, and Ena sashayed her way into the partner's office as well.
“Derrick, could you be a dear and get me a can as well?” Tara asked.
***
I had held out a thin hope that I would be able to use my momentum to carry straight through to the book’s hiding place in the ritual room, but that clearly wasn’t happening. I opened my can of pop with one hand while leaning back on the empty desk, Derrick hovered near the only exit, and Ena had joined us at her desk so that the four of us formed a rough diamond.
“As I am currently not preoccupied with work at the moment, Ms. MacDonnell has asked me to represent her interests; she does still have an interest in this matter. She has fully apprised me of the situation and has authorized me to negotiate on her behalf,” I said. I paused to wait for a reaction and was happy to see that the late evening sunlight had managed to slant between the surrounding buildings, shining straight into the women’s eyes. It worked for gun fighters in the Old West, and it would help me here.
“I’m not sure what leverage Kelly thinks that she has. If we simply wait for the legal process to play out, then we’ll own her shares,” Tara said. The lawyer’s voice came out authoritatively, but the fact that she had qu
eried what leverage Kelly had told me that there was a value for which she’d be willing to make a deal.
Ena’s nostrils flared, and I guessed that she was annoyed at Tara’s gaffe. “Your own legal status is still a bit of a question, isn’t it? The Redderton Agency has contacts, and we have money. The darndest things can happen. I think you look like you might be a drug addict, Mr. Adler…perhaps if the Met took a look around your house?” Ena said, leaving the question hanging in the air.
I didn’t like people threatening my family, but this didn’t anger me; it was just a hard initial negotiation stance. I’d seen worse: try dealing with software company auditors.
I took a couple of steps forward and saw both women consciously try to edge away. “I have all the time in the world to discuss this, but my understanding from Ms. MacDonnell is that you’re working against a particularly nasty deadline. You certainly can get your hands on her shares, but if the Vauxhall contract goes south, you’ll have all of nothing. My client is offering you part of something,” I said, smiling my best shit-eating grin and taking another step forward.
“I think that our special assistant will be able to convince your primary employer to downselect and sign the contract before close of business on Friday,” Tara said. Her words came out clipped, and she fidgeted in her chair as Ena chipped in.
“I’d like to see this closed as soon as possible and get to supper, so unless you have a constructive proposal and a compelling unique selling point?” She arched an eyebrow, but I could hear her stomach rumbling from across the room.
“It’s very interesting that you would choose to frame the discussion in that way, Ms. O’Brian, because Ms. MacDonnell and I also would like to see this resolved as swiftly as possible. I’m willing to make the following offer: first, you will hand over the book, the silver binding chain, and all of the marking pens; second, you will ‘lose’ any evidence implicating Ms. MacDonnell in the arson and quit interfering in my affairs; finally you will buy out her shares,” I said, making air quotes around the word “lose.” Both of the women flushed, and Derrick simply snorted. Before they could speak, I carried on: “In exchange for those concessions, I will speak to my colleague Nick and get the block on your deal lifted. Ms. MacDonnell will agree to a phased three-year buyout of her shares and will cease any further discussions with the police around your questionable persuasion techniques and their targets.” Before I even realized that I intended to make a sound, my mouth continued speaking, and I heard it say, “By which, of course, she is referring to all of the people that you sick shits murdered.” I expected to see some kind of bluster from the OMG women, but what actually happened surprised me into immobility.
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