“We buried her up there,” said Max. “Jacob and myself. We didn’t think it was right to lay her to rest in the sewers. She’d spent her life suffering down here in the darkness.”
“Like I said, you’re coping well,” said Nat. “Maybe it hasn’t really sunk in yet.”
“It’s sunk in all right,” answered Herman. “We have always expected death, just not our mother. People do come down here every so often. We’re wise to avoid them and keep our presence secret. Their reaction would be like your own: terror and confusion. If our existence became known…”
“Maybe my reaction would have been better if you weren’t about to eat me,” she said.
Herman dipped his head.
Max stepped back to admire the bandage.
“You’ve done a good job,” said Nat, looking down to inspect the dressing. Whistler nodded.
“Turn around. I need to look at your back.”
Nat turned, glad to avert her eyes from Herman’s glistening form.
“Jacob and the twins are handling this the worst,” said Max. He carefully pulled up her top. Nat felt his cold hands on her back. “They are just so angry. I think that’s why they played with you. Those three have always been the most savage of the family. We might get our deformities from our mother, but I believe that the men that spawned us also had a major effect on what we’ve become.”
“Easy for you to say,” said Herman. “You’re blessed.”
Nat expected the words to be laced with jealousy, even malice. Herman’s voice sounded sad and hopeless.
“But I still find myself down here with the family,” said Max. “It’s not easy being an outsider up there, you know. At least you don’t have to experience that.” He sighed. “Anyway, I’m worried about Jacob and the twins. They’ve become angrier, more vicious. I think the monster in them is taking a firmer hold, feeding on their grief. I want to find out who killed our mother and make them pay. My God, I’ll make them pay. But I’m worried that the need in those three is greater, and that will lead to sloppiness. Mistakes might be made…”
“Agreed,” said Herman. “Baby Edgar needs to be the priority, not vengeance.”
Nat winced as Max touched the shallow cut on her back.
“Whoops. Sorry.”
“It’s fine, really,” she replied.
He proceeded to spray antiseptic on the wound.
“So you have no definite idea about what happened last night?” Nat asked.
“Apart from where it happened and what was used,” said Max, “no, we haven’t. We decided to wait until our brothers had calmed down before we started our own way of investigation. The city is like a jungle; there are eyes and ears everywhere. We hope to speak to Alcazar soon. He has ways…”
Herman snorted. “Nonsense! He can no more talk to the birds than I can converse with the rats that scuttle around in this hell hole!”
Whistler chuckled.
Nat felt her top being carefully eased down.
“That one’s not so bad,” he said. “It would be a waste of time to dress it.”
“Thank you.” Nat turned around and sat back in the damp armchair.
“Okay,” said Max. He walked over to Herman and leaned on the pram. “I know you think Alcazar is a little…nutty.”
“Nutty? I think he’s crazy!”
“But he might know something. Whether it’s from one of his feathered friends or not, Herman. We have nothing at the moment.”
Max looked down into Herman’s pram. Nat thought he was looking at the baby, but he reached in and pulled out a small square of paper.
“So this is where it got to,” he said quietly. “I’ve been looking for this.”
Herman bowed his head again. “Yes, brother. I…I have been looking at it.” He used a skinless hand to wipe his eyes.
Max ran his grubby fingers through his beard and tugged on the thick black hair. Nat watched him study the paper for a moment.
“Max? You okay?”
He slowly nodded and lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Here. Just to show you she wasn’t a monster like some of us.”
He approached and offered her the small square.
Gently taking it from him, Nat squinted in the poor light. The photograph, despite its colour, looked old. She ran a hand across it to try and smooth out the wrinkles that ran across its surface. It showed a woman, possibly in her twenties. Judging by the hairstyle and décor of the room she stood in, Nat guessed the photograph had been taken in the early seventies. She held the photograph closer to her face. Time and water had done their damage, and the details were hard to make out. She studied the face.
Christ…
Even with the long hair a natural brown, and the skin pure and white, Nat recognised the woman in the photograph. Years later, the face would be covered in makeup and the hair bleached and cut.
She swallowed, praying her face hadn’t given anything away. She looked up, all the time expecting Max to see something was wrong. He still looked down at the photograph. She turned to her right and saw Whistler moving away. He looked back over his shoulder.
Nat stared at him.
With a nervous yelp, he turned away and hurried across the chamber. With a final glance back, he disappeared into the tunnel.
“Strange boy,” said Herman, and wheeled the pram back into the shadows.
13.
Johan glared at the man. He’d never wanted to hurt anyone as much in his life. He balled his hands into fists within his pockets and tried to keep his voice calm and steady.
“All I want to know, sir,” he forced out, “is whether or not you have heard from her today.”
The man, who towered above Johan with his arms crossed above his prominent gut, sneered. “I cannot see what business that is of yours, darling,” he said. “Are you family?”
“Yes. I’m her brother.”
The man’s eyes narrowed and glanced up to observe Johan’s stark white hair.
“Mmm,” he said. “Obviously. I can see the resemblance. You could almost be twins.”
Johan grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him in. The man seemed to swell with anger.
“Get your hands off me, you young ruffian!”
Johan did. People in the restaurant had turned to watch, their knives and forks suspended over their plates. His confidence began to diminish. Some of the male diners were big, and he felt sure one or more would come to the big fruit’s aid.
Be civil, he thought. That’s the way here. Time for violence later.
He smiled and looked at the man the way he looked at his women. With his hands behind his back, he tilted his head.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “You understand I don’t want to cause a fuss.”
He leaned in, close enough to smell the man. He reeked of garlic and sweat.
“All I want to know is if Nat has called you tonight. We’re friends of hers, and we are very concerned about her, as I’m sure you are too.”
The man looked at him with doubt.
Johan looked around, pleased to see the diners had lost interest. With the potential of a good argument gone, they’d returned to their meals.
“She was due to work today. She never showed up.”
“And she hasn’t called to say why?”
The man shook his head. “My second waitress this week.”
“Thank you,” said Johan. “Please, excuse me.”
Without waiting for a reply, he walked up to the bar. Sitting on one of the stools, Richie idly chatted with the barmaid, a girl who looked about eighteen in a black and white uniform.
“All done?” Richie asked as Johan stopped beside him.
Johan nodded. “Nothing. I didn’t think the fat queer would know anything. Come on, let’s get out of here. I bet the others are freezing.”
Richie looked to the other end of the bar, where the barmaid was refilling a chiller, and back to Johan.
“Can’t we stay a little longer? Just one quick drink, I
think we have a contender for the night’s entertainment.”
“If you could drag your brain out of your prick for a moment,” Johan hissed, “Simon’s bitch has to be somewhere.”
“Yeah? So?”
“So, my horny friend, we have a trail to follow. We find out where the stupid girl went and who she’s with! And when we do…” He rubbed his hands together.
The barmaid cast Richie a lingering look.
“Don’t bother, love,” Johan called. “He has crabs.”
The barmaid blushed and quickly returned to the job at hand.
“Hey!”
“I don’t want you distracted by any pussy you come across,” said Johan. “Not tonight. We have a job to do.” He tapped a fingernail on the bar, deep in thought. “The Fourth Dimension,” he said after a moment.
“What?”
“Simon was there with his girl last night, and she might have taken a liking to it, I think we could convince him to go there.”
Richie raked a hand through his hair and grinned. “I don’t think he’s that stupid. If she didn’t come here, then I doubt—”
“He’s in no state to make decisions,” said Johan. “When we get outside, back me up on whatever I say. Right?”
Richie nodded and looked back to the barmaid.
Johan looked over too. She ignored the pair of them.
“Better luck next time,” said Johan with a smile. “Come on.”
He waited for Richie to slide from the barstool and walk alongside him.
The owner, who’d been talking with some customers, tried to rush over. Johan weaved between the tables and headed for the door.
“Come back later,” the man called across the room, “she might have called!”
“Yeah,” said Johan, not stopping. “I’ll do that. I’ll call in later.”
He reached the door and pulled it open.
“Fat fuck,” he said, watching the owner return to schmoozing with the diners.
“What? I didn’t do nothing!” Kev, leaning against the wall beside the restaurant, looked confused. Spence and Simon stood with him, their breath steaming in the cold air.
“I meant another fat fuck,” said Johan.
“Well?” asked Simon. He stepped forwards. “Has she called? Does he know where she is?”
“No, I’m afraid not. She hasn’t disappeared from the face of the earth, though. She has to be somewhere.” He glanced up and down the street. “We’ll try down here. Someone has to have seen her.”
Johan started to walk, and the rest of the group fell in behind him.
That’s it, he thought, follow me, boys.
“Johan?” Simon caught up with him and kept pace.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think something has happened to her?”
Simon’s eyes appeared glazed, and he stared at the ground. He kept his hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched. Shakes ran through his arms. Johan knew it wasn’t because of the cold. The guy was worried sick.
“I still hope there’s an explanation,” said Johan. “But to be honest, the longer it gets…”
“Do…” Simon swallowed. “Do you think someone’s taken her?”
No, I think someone’s doing her.
“She could have gone out with her friends or anything,” said Johan. He smiled. “You haven’t had an argument, have you? I don’t think the boys will appreciate being dragged around the town over a tiff.”
Simon’s eyes narrowed.
“Simon?” Johan pressed.
He shook his head. “We need to find her. She… she knows…things.”
Johan growled. “I see. Exactly what things, good buddy?”
“Nothing much, but she knows we used to hang out,” said Simon. “If she finds the woman and the old bitch talks, you’ll all be for it. I’ll be linked to it all, and if other things come out—”
“Simon, Simon, Simon,” said Johan. “You know us. You really think the woman will be found? If so, that she’ll be able to give names and faces? You really have forgotten who your friends are—sorry—your old friends.”
“We all have things that need to stay buried,” said Simon.
Johan gave a small nod, never removing his hard stare. “Indeed. But if we do find this señorita of yours, the two of you are going to have a long chat.”
“Yes,” said Simon. “I guess we are.”
They stopped at the end of the street and Johan looked both ways before crossing. Simon walked alongside in silence while the boys idly chatted behind.
“Where are we going?”
“The Fourth Dimension,” Johan said.
“Why?”
“You were there last night,” said Johan quietly. “I think it would be a good idea to try everywhere. You never know.”
People bustled around tables and hung around the bar. Johan waited in the doorway for his group to gather behind him. Expecting trouble from big Bubba Hempshead after last night, he needed the boys at his back.
“I don’t think she’s here,” said Simon.
“Someone might have seen her,” Johan replied. “No harm in asking while we’re here.”
He faced his three friends. Kev’s normal jolliness had gone, and Richie hung his head, his hair hanging over his face. Spence looked around, his pupils darting around behind his lenses.
Don’t fret, boys. I’m sure things will liven up soon.
Head held high, Johan walked over to the bar.
A tall, dark skinned woman poured drinks.
Johan pushed his way through the customers. The boys followed close behind.
“What can I get you, gentlemen?” the woman asked. With her thick accent, Johan guessed she was Bubba’s wife or sister.
“Just information,” said Johan. He raised his voice over the bustle of the bar. “We’re looking for someone.”
“Lot of people come and gone tonight, boy. I been busy, but I help you if I can.”
Simon barged in, and Johan was forced aside, bumping into the man standing next to him. “Has a girl been in here today? I came here with her last night.”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “I weren’ workin’ last night, chick. You gonna have to do better than dat, if you catch my drift.”
“She’s around this tall.” He held up his hand. “She has long, dark dreadlocks, normally tied back. Pale complexion. Piercings. Erm…”
The woman rolled her eyes.
“So she has been here?” said Simon. He grabbed Johan’s arm.
“She been here.”
Johan shrugged Simon’s hand away. “I don’t suppose she told you where she was heading?”
The woman looked him up and down.
Bitch, he thought as she surveyed him. Might have to come back and visit you one day.
“Girl seem upset. Maybe your boy here be the reason. Now why would I go and send you her way, huh?”
“Please?” Johan flashed his well-practised smile. Hell, it had worked on the queer at the restaurant.
She didn’t look impressed.
“I don’ know where she went,” said the woman after a moment. “She was ’ere dis afternoon. But even if I did know, I wouldn’ tell you. I know trouble when I sees it.”
Johan smiled again. “Thank you, my dear. You have been a wealth of information.”
The woman smirked and walked away to serve more drinks.
“Finally,” said Johan. He turned around and leaned back against the bar. “At least we have something.”
“Do we?” asked Simon. “We still don’t know where she is.”
“But we know she was here. Gives us somewhere to focus on.”
But you weren’t in here with another guy, Nat my dear. What are you doing?
He gave Simon a reassuring smile. “We’re getting closer, my friend.”
“Hey! You two!”
Johan turned back.
Bubba Hempshead had stepped out of the back and stood behind the bar.
“I kick you jokers out la
st ni’. You tink you can just come a walkin’ in ’ere the next day?”
“Come on,” said Johan. “Best we don’t draw any more attention to ourselves.”
“Dat it,” called Bubba. “You keep on goin’. Out me place like good boys.”
Johan growled under his breath. He gestured towards the door. Richie, Spence and Kev got the message and headed out of the bar. Simon walked alongside him.
“Say beer can,” said Kev. “Sounds like Jamaican bacon…”
Bubba remained standing behind the bar with an arm around the woman and a white bottle in his hand.
I’ll remember this, thought Johan. I’ll remember her.
“We’re wasting time here,” said Simon, leaning against the grime-streaked wall of an abandoned building. “I’m still for calling the police.”
“The fuck you will,” said Johan. He looked up and down the empty street. “If she was wandering around here, someone else might have seen her. Have a little faith. We’ll search all night if we have to.”
They hadn’t seen another person for the last half an hour, not since leaving The Fourth Dimension. Johan believed they didn’t have a hope in Hell’s chance of finding the ever-elusive Nat. The streets were a concrete maze. Even he, a veteran of the city at night, had lost his way on a few occasions. The run down area looked the same on every street. Johan wondered how a district a mere twenty minute walk from the bustling city centre could be allowed to rot and decay like this.
He turned at the sound of hurried footsteps. Spence emerged from around the corner. The streetlights reflected in his lenses; his eyes golden circles.
“Anything?”
“Nothing,” said Spence and pushed the spectacles further up his nose. “Not a thing. Have the others found anything or anyone yet?”
“They’re not back.” Johan rubbed his hands together and blew on them. “Let’s go find them.”
“Look at this place,” said Simon. “If she was around here and alone, any weirdo could have grabbed her.”
“And if some weirdo has grabbed her, we’ll deal with him. Me and the boys got you covered. Ain’t that right, Spence?”
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