And she was going to have to tell Stevia that Micheline had gone with the angels. That wasn't going to be a fun conversation.
First things first.
Lilia offered her hand to the former angel. "Let me help you," she said and Raphael put his hand into hers.
He was so trusting.
So vulnerable.
Lilia had to fix that before she sent him on his way. He let her lead him from the warehouse, mimicking her gestures. He moved with increasing grace with every passing moment, as if he was learning at lightning speed.
It was just barely dawn. Lilia decided to push both bikes and abandon them in the pleasure fringe. She didn't want to leave any evidence of where they had been, of where Micheline had disappeared, of where Montgomery the protector met with angels.
She'd remember the place well enough.
She glanced over her shoulder to find Raphael staring up at the sky. She followed his gaze to see that a star was falling. It cut across the darker blue overhead, diving toward the horizon in a last blaze of glory. He was watching its course. Maybe he'd never seen one before.
When she called him, he didn't respond.
When she returned to his side and touched his elbow, he laid one hand over hers. His gaze remained locked on the falling star. "Mine," he whispered, but she didn't understand.
No one could own falling stars.
It was only when it had disappeared at the horizon that Raphael turned to face her, only then that Lilia saw the tears on his cheeks.
"New Seattle," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
"Yes," Lilia agreed. "But first I have to tell you some things about this place."
New Gotham had one thing in common with the world Lilia knew: the pleasure fringe was one place that a well-dressed woman could lead a man, naked except for a cloak, and no one even looked twice.
Raphael was even barefoot in dirty urban streets in October, but Lilia wasn't challenged once.
At least not by strangers. Raphael was another issue altogether. He quickly revealed a fascination with shiny items, and a talent for acquisition that would have made him a terrific thief.
Somehow Lilia doubted that Montgomery would have endorsed such a choice of career path. The more she protested, the more crafty Raphael became, as if they played a game.
There was no guile in him, yet, and his was the innocent joy of winning a contest. By the time they'd gone three blocks in the pleasure fringe, Lilia had returned the ring of a hooker (who'd made the mistake of stroking Raphael's shoulder), three watches and four cut-glass rings pilfered from a street vendor's display, and the chain from an elaborate bell pull.
She had to wonder whether Montgomery had set her up. She doubted that, although she imagined he'd enjoy seeing what Raphael put her through. Montgomery might even have expected it, given that he knew so much about angels.
She finally found a haberdashery with stock that wasn't too flash and pulled Raphael into the establishment. The shop was down three steps from the street with a grill that could be locked over the door. The dark carpet was of indeterminate color and smelled faintly of spilled beer and mildew. The walls were black and there were mirrors mounted between the racks. Everything was a onesie, the goods reclaimed or resold. An ad on one wall advised that Joel's Clothes specialized in fitting the discerning gentleman and in repairing laze marks in better clothing.
A lean man with hollow cheeks, presumably Joel himself, stepped from between the racks of clothes. It was quite the conjuring act for him to surprise a customer, as he was dressed in a fuschia suit with black accents and mirrored cuff links.
Raphael went for the cuff links, like a dog for a bone.
Joel's gaze swept over Raphael and he smiled slightly in anticipation of a good sale. "And how may we be of service today?" He was unctuous and slippery. Lilia didn't doubt that he could be bought, so she gave him a story she wouldn't mind him selling.
"New sex toy." She sighed, as if she acquired new ones all the time, and found them somewhat troublesome. Raphael did his best to support the story as he tried on rings and bracelets, his fingers as fast as lightning. Lilia and Joel plucked them from his hands and returned them to the tray, Joel counting under his breath.
"Only came with the cloak on his back, hmmm?" Joel eased back the cloak, purportedly to guess Raphael's size. Lilia thought he was doing a more personal assessment, even as he fingered the faux-leather hem with appreciation. "Very nice," he said and Lilia wasn't sure whether he meant Raphael or the cloak. "I could give you a trade-in on this."
"I'm keeping both, thanks."
The salesman almost smiled.
"He needs one decent outfit, nothing too showy, nothing overly expensive." Lilia spied a sparkle disappearing beneath Montgomery's cloak and retrieved a silver bracelet from Raphael's fingers. She put it back in the tray with a smile, one that Joel didn't quite share. "Preferably nothing with pockets."
The murder victim at the circus was one Stevia Fer-gusson, according to her palm, and she hadn't been dead long. She had been cut open exactly the same way as Rachel and the shade in Gotham, and it wasn't any easier to look at the third time.
More importantly, she was a norm. Montgomery had no doubt that the same killer was responsible, but this death was a homicide.
The stakes had been raised.
The shade with the third eye said he'd found Stevia half an hour before Montgomery's arrival and pinged the police right away. He had no idea who could have disliked his employer so much, and hadn't seen anything. The pot of coffee he'd brought sat cooling on the table, his only interruption of the scene.
Dimitri gave Montgomery a look and whistled, before making a comment about being pulled away from hard labor. Dimitri looked as if he'd been dragged backward from bed for the call.
The coroner pronounced the body to be no more than an hour dead. Lilia couldn't have been responsible, but Montgomery wasn't going to volunteer to provide her with an alibi.
He'd figure out who was really responsible first.
And on the way, he'd discover why Lilia was being framed.
Montgomery got no further before his palm pinged an imperative. It helpfully accessed a circus security vid, showing that Lilia had entered this very tent the previous afternoon, with the victim and the girl-shade that Montgomery had seen taken by the angels. Lilia had not only been identified by the system, but her name was highlighted and blinking.
She really did have powerful enemies.
"One of your disappointed dates in the pleasure fringe?" Dimitri teased at the sound of Montgomery's ping. "Never leave a job half finished, that's what we say in New Gotham."
The other cops snickered at this.
Montgomery smiled. "No, it's just the central databank, doing investigative support."
Dimitri glanced up. "What are you talking about?"
The other cops and the coroner looked at Montgomery as well.
"It's seeking patterns in these deaths, searching the central databanks for connections." Montgomery could see from the expressions of his fellow officers that they didn't understand what he meant. "Aren't you getting its hotlinks?"
Dimitri glanced from side to side as he stood up, then he lowered his voice. "Are you running legit software, Montgomery?"
"Of course I am."
"But the system doesn't do that."
"Sure it does. I got the first message yesterday."
Dimitri shook his head. "No. There was a beta version of an upgrade that did that but they backed it out a year ago. The first perp it nailed was innocent and the New Houston Police lost a lawsuit after the execution. Didn't you hicks back out the upgrade in Topeka?"
"Well, sure," Montgomery lied. "I just assumed this was new. They upgraded and cross-checked my utilities when I came on board here. Everything I've got came from Tech Support."
Dimitri studied Montgomery for a moment, then swore under his breath and went back to his fingerprinting. He cast a dark glance at Montgomery. "So, that
's how it's going to be, is it? A couple months off the farm and Montgomery's the new star."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Montgomery said.
Dimitri snorted. "Right. I wasn't born yesterday. They're giving you the better toys so you can be a star. I know how it works."
Montgomery and the coroner exchanged a glance.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he began but Dimitri interrupted him bitterly.
"I don't give a crap whether they've told you about the big plan or not, Montgomery. Here's the thing: you don't know squat about New Gotham, who to call and how things work, where things go down, and who the regulars are."
"But I..."
"You go ahead. You try to be a star, but I'll tell you now that they're going to regret not promoting me instead."
Dimitri went back to his work and the other cops turned their backs on Montgomery in a show of solidarity.
Obviously the data Montgomery was receiving wasn't being shared with everyone. He didn't believe he was targeted for promotion.
So what was going on? Were the messages coming from NGPD? The Republic? Or someone outside of the system who had hacked his way in? Was NGPD checking that he was who they thought he was?
One thing was for sure: somebody wanted Montgomery to decide that Lilia was a killer, against his own inclinations. His palm chimed again and Dimitri swore under his breath. Montgomery didn't want to look, not in front of everyone, but he did it anyway.
He wasn't surprised that Lilia had been detained at the train station for entering a restricted area.
He was surprised that she was alone.
XIV
Lilia advised Raphael all the way to the train station and he listened avidly. He asked questions of greater subtlety and complexity as they walked. She only hoped she remembered everything of importance that he needed to know.
Some instinct for self-preservation kept her from telling him her name, and he never asked for it.
He was already moving with more confidence, and stepped to hold the door for a pretty woman descending from a rickshaw in front of the train station. The woman smiled at him and Raphael stared after her for a long moment, desire in his gaze.
Lilia decided to leave that alone.
Under her instruction, Raphael consulted the schedule and booked himself a place on the next train using his palm. Lilia watched and noted that someone had done some prep work in the Republic's databanks. It was brilliant and seamlessly done. Raphael had a personal history—albeit a spartan one—and some funds at his disposal. The info on his palm would pass a cursory exam and within days, his record would accrue more detail.
Was this what Montgomery did for the angels? Or were there others linked to the scheme? There was nothing Lilia loved more than a conspiracy, and she sensed that she'd found the tip of a big one. Raphael hadn't existed three hours before, yet his record showed that he was thirty-five and had been born in Paduca.
Someone inside the Republic was feeding garbage into the databanks. That made Lilia want to stand up and Except that doing so would have blown the cover of the mystery hackers.
The train station was chaotic, filled with rickshaws, bicycles, stacks of luggage, porters with loaded carts, and running children. Vendors wove through the crowd, selling candy and downloads. Lilia overheard that Max had pulled into the lead in the presidential race, after coming off well in a vid debate.
But then, he'd always had the gift of gab. Lilia had told him once that he could sell tattoos to shades.
That hadn't proved to be so funny, in time.
She hugged Montgomery's cloak and led Raphael through the throngs of people in the station. It was dusty, the air filled with the smell of the steam engines. They found Raphael's train and the locomotive was already running.
Raphael kissed Lilia's fingertips. "Thank you for your help."
Lilia pulled her hand away, uncomfortable with his display of affection. Funny how he was just as buff and gorgeous as Montgomery but he did nothing to her equilibrium. "It was no trouble. You'd better get on board."
He caught her hand in his again and smiled. "Maybe you should come with me to New Seattle."
"No. Have a good trip, and, urn, good luck at your destination."
Raphael leaned closer then and kissed Lilia's cheek. "I'll tell Delilah that you're well, then."
Lilia pulled back abruptly at the sound of her daughter's name. "Delilah? What are you talking about?"
Raphael smiled and trotted to the top of the stairs. The train gave a second whistle and began to pull out of the station. What did he know about Delilah? Lilia's hand rose to the locket from Gid, and her fingers closed on emptiness.
The locket was gone.
It was shiny.
She knew who had it.
"Raphael!" Lilia ran after the accelerating train when lie ignored her. She leapt onto the bottom step and clung to the railing, swinging her weight onto the train. She lunged to the top of the steps and snatched at Raphael's sleeve. "Give the locket to me. Please."
"This?" The chain dangled from Raphael's fingertips, the locket swinging with the motion of the train. They stood at the top of the steps to the car, the ground blurring behind Lilia as the train gained speed.
"Yes, that." Lilia snatched and missed. "I knew you shouldn't have had pockets."
Raphael closed his hand it. "A memento for Delilah."
"I don't know who you're talking about," Lilia said with desperation. "It was a gift from my dead husband."
He watched her, that keen intelligence in his eyes. "It will mean all the more to Delilah then."
"No! I don't know anyone named Delilah. That locket is the only remembrance I have from my dead husband," Lilia said, reaching for Raphael's hand. "Give it to me, please."
The train switched tracks abruptly, throwing them both off balance. Raphael stumbled and Lilia drought he would fall down the stairs. She grabbed at him as he scrambled for the handrail.
She just had a glimpse of the intent in his gaze before he tossed the locket. If she hadn't seen that fleeting expression, she would have thought he'd dropped it.
But instead, she knew he'd thrown it on purpose. The locket fell in the gravel in the train yard. Lilia leapt from the train in pursuit of the locket. She twisted her ankle when she hit the ground, but stumbled to her feet.
Raphael shouted, but Lilia ignored him. She sought the glitter of the cheap locket in the gravel between the tracks. Her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking. Delilah. How could he know about Delilah?
She had time to think how unlike Gid it was to give her a worthless piece of junk, how unlike her it was to risk her life for sentimentality, how unlikely it was that she'd find the locket again.
Then she saw it.
The locket was broken from its fall. Between the two thin walls that made the back of the locket was a hollow space.
Which held a black datachip.
The locket was a disposable piece of junk. What it concealed was its value. She should have known to smash it.
Once again, Gid had run intellectual circles around her.
Lilia glanced toward the station and found that a small disapproving crowd had gathered on the end of the platform. The stationmaster's thugs walked toward her, one swinging a crowbar.
It wasn't the most promising welcome she'd ever seen.
She knew then that she was in a restricted area without permission, the kind of deed that the Republic didn't favor among citizens.
Under the guise of straightening her skirts, Lilia jammed the datachip into her tightly laced boot. It pressed against her ankle, but she knew it was there. She straightened, holding up her gloved hands as she practiced her prettiest apology.
She would be demure. With luck, it would be enough to get her out of trouble.
Without luck, she'd be able to add resisting arrest to the charge against her.
Delilah.
Lilia looked mutinous in the train station lockup, which did
n't surprise Montgomery. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw him, then she settled into apparent indifference again.
Montgomery glanced over her quickly, noticing that she had a bruise rising on her cheek. Her skirt was muddy on one side, as if she'd fallen, and her sleeve was torn. Her cheap locket was gone and she had his cloak draped over her arm. After that one brief glance, she tapped her toe and considered the ceiling, as if she didn't know him at all.
That dawning bruise shorted Montgomery's circuits. He was furious with Lilia for entering a restricted area and for resisting arrest, but more furious with the station-master for allowing a woman to be injured. He took a deep breath and forced himself to be composed and indifferent.
"Can I help you?" the stationmaster asked, his tone indicating that he'd prefer to do anything else. He was a portly and older man, his eyes so narrowed with suspicion that Montgomery doubted he was capable of any other expression.
Montgomery made a show of consulting his palm as he spoke to the stationmaster. "I understand you have a Lilia Desjardins in your custody."
The stationmaster looked Montgomery up and down, obviously unimpressed by Montgomery's off-duty garb. "And what if I do?"
"NGPD." Montgomery flashed his palm and the man straightened. "That citizen is wanted for questioning in relation to a homicide here in New Gotham."
"That's her there," the stationmaster said, indicating Lilia with a jerk of his thumb. Lilia stared steadily back at him, unrepentant for whatever she had done. Not for the first time, Montgomery wanted to shake her. "If you're thinking of taking her into your custody, you should know that she was uncooperative. Me and the boys, we had to take her down hard once she got into the unauthorized zone."
"Or you could have simply asked me to accompany you," Lilia said tartly. "I was under the delusion that citizens had rights in the Republic."
"Not when they break the law," the stationmaster snapped. "The train yard is restricted to ensure the safety of citizens."
"Then why don't I feel very safe?" Lilia retorted and hostility rose in the small space.
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