by Darren Shan
He opened his eyes and scowled. “I’ve killed men for looking at me crooked. Why should I let you get away with insolence like this?”
It was probably a rhetorical question but I began to answer it. “Because you want me to be your…” Then I stopped, thinking I’d gone too far.
The Cardinal cocked his head. “To be my successor?” he said mockingly.
“Maybe,” I said softly, deciding to push it now that the issue had been raised.
“You really think I’d choose you ahead of men I’ve known for decades, who’ve proven their loyalty a hundred times over?”
“Maybe,” I said again, a whisper this time.
“Are you loyal?” he asked.
I thought of Ama Situwa. “When it suits me.”
“A strange answer. But I like it.” He smiled suddenly, startling me. “Yes, Mr. Raimi, I’ve singled you out as a possible heir.” My heart rate shot up but he raised a cautionary finger before I got too excited. “But I hope to live a long time yet and others will undoubtedly come along. Plus there are several who already have a strong claim. Don’t get carried away. I’m not about to hand the reins over anytime soon, certainly not to one so immature. We’ll see how you progress over the next decade. If you’re still going strong, if you still want it, we’ll talk about it then.”
“Of course I’ll want it,” I said.
“Don’t be too sure. The man who replaces me must be cruel, heartless, self-centered. He must live for and love nothing more than this empire. Is there anybody you would die for, a mother, sister… friend ? ”
“Yes,” I answered shortly, thinking of Conchita, maybe Ama too. “There is.”
“In the end,” he said softly, “you’ll have to betray that person. If you hope to replace me, you’ll have to learn to let go of those you love. Can you do that, Mr. Raimi, sacrifice those you are closest to, renounce your humanity and become a monster like me?”
I thought about it for a full minute before I answered. “I don’t know.”
“One day,” he said, “you’ll find out. On that day you’ll learn if you are fit to succeed me.” His eyes flickered as he added bitterly, “Pray for your soul’s sake that you are not.”
We discussed business after that. I told him about my deal with Reed, how I’d used his daughter to seal it. The Cardinal was worried I might have threatened her, but I assured him it had been aboveboard.
“He believed you could persuade her to marry you?” he asked incredulously.
“Who knows—it might prove to be the truth.”
The Cardinal grinned wickedly. “Pursuing romance so soon after my warning about getting involved with people?”
I shrugged. “Like you said, it’ll be a decade before I get anywhere. Why not have a little fun in the interim?”
We talked more about the future. He outlined the route he expected me to travel. A few more months in the insurance line, then a year or so with his legal team, learning everything there was to know about the law, “or at least enough to fake it.” After that I’d be free to flit between one area of the company and another, feel my way around, find my niche, specialize or generalize as I saw best. He said no man worth his salt could be led about by the nose. I’d be guided while I was learning the basics, but after that I was on my own.
It was a magical meeting. He addressed me like an equal. Clapped me on the back and beamed as he poured drinks. Expounded on his long-term plans and investment ideas. Talked briefly of his national strategy, pinpointing the fields he dominated and those he needed to expand into. His international dreams were a long way from fruition. He didn’t think he’d live to see the day when his men ruled the global economy and appointed or dismissed political leaders as they saw fit. But he was sure that day would come.
He said his heir would have the freedom of the world. He’d confined himself to the city because you had to be a big fish in a small pond before you could be a shark in a sea. He’d been tempted to leave, to branch out and gamble, but that would have meant spreading himself too thin, leaving himself open to attack from too many quarters.
“A true dreamer must be prepared to make any sacrifice for his dream,” he said. “Even if it means sacrificing himself. The dream must be everything.”
Near the end of his speech he left to use the toilet. I took the opportunity to examine the room a little more closely. If— when I took over I’d have to make a lot of changes. It was too bare. A few plants and paintings would do wonders. More computers and telephones. And those puppets would go straightaway.
I walked to one of the walls and studied the miniature people, smiling condescendingly. Every man has his own particular folly. The Cardinal, a builder of empires, destroyer of men, would-be ruler of the world… and here he was with a load of childish toys. Why do even the greatest of men have…
I stopped dead, my train of thought dissolving.
Adrian’s face was staring back at me.
I took a step away, blinking. When I focused again, it was still there. I moved closer, took down the model and studied it carefully. It was a tiny Adrian, perfect in every detail. I turned it around, amazed. The maker had even known that Adrian’s left ear was slightly smaller than his right.
I edged along, clutching the puppet, looking for other familiar faces on the walls. And there they were. Leonora. Y Tse.
Me.
The toy Capac Raimi was as carefully constructed as the Adrian. I examined the hands and found slender fingerprints. I tried comparing them to my own but I’d have needed a magnifying glass.
I wandered further along and found the killer Paucar Wami, as well as Ama Situwa. My heart lurched when I found her puppet—it seemed I cared more for her safety than my own.
I was looking for more when I realized the puppet in my right hand—the mini me—was ticking. I held it to my ear and detected a thin, metallic heartbeat, as regular as the real thing. I raised Adrian’s model but it was silent.
I returned the puppets to their rightful resting places before The Cardinal returned. I decided it was wiser not to ask about them. There was something ominous about them which disturbed me greatly. The Cardinal had been incredibly open with me, but I had a feeling his mood would turn in an instant if I quizzed him about the puppets.
He dismissed me shortly after he came back. I emerged from the room in a daze, head spinning from our conversation and the discovery of the puppets. On the one hand I was delighted—The Cardinal had singled me out for potential succession—but on the other I was fearful. He’d spoken of prices to be paid, sacrifices that must be made. What had he meant? And why did he have my effigy pinned to the wall? And why had my breast ticked and not Adrian’s?
Ford was waiting downstairs. “Still alive?” he grunted.
“Seems so. And I think I’ll be around a while longer. He’s preparing me to take over from him.” I had to tell someone.
Ford’s eyes were black. “What about me?”
My face dropped. I’d just shown my hand to my main rival for the post. Ford was a lot more powerful than me. He could make me disappear in a minute.
“You think you can crowd me out?” Ford growled as I flustered. “You think you can brush me aside without a fight?”
“I didn’t mean… maybe he was talking about something else andI…”
He laughed aloud and the darkness in his eyes faded. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ve known for a long time I wasn’t going to be stepping into his shoes. He told me back in the early days. Made it clear I wasn’t the kind of man to run his empire. Which is fine. I’m happy where I am. This way I don’t have to worry about young punks like you coming along to knock me off. There’s much to be said for playing second fiddle.”
“I’ll look after you if I get in,” I promised.
He chuckled bloodlessly. “I admire your optimism but you need to trade those rose-tinted glasses for another pair. In the first place, I’ll be an old man with a cane and a bladder problem by the time you’ll be in a position to follow on from
The Cardinal. He’s older than me but still hungry. He’ll go on another twenty years, easy. I won’t be there when he drops. You might not be either. You’re not the first successor he’s lined up and you won’t be the last. He’s been looking for one ever since I can remember. Picks a fresh face every couple of years, gives them the rigmarole, raises their expectations, then dumps them when they don’t measure up to scratch. No one has ever satisfied him. I don’t think anyone ever will. The man who fills his shoes will just happen to be around when he topples. It’s all a matter of timing. You’re well on your way but it can end in a second.”
“Like it did for Y Tse?”
“Who?”
“Y Tse Lapotaire. Inti Maimi?”
He shook his head. “Don’t know who you’re talking about. Any case, it doesn’t matter. They’re all the same. Front-runners one day, fish food the next. Don’t get carried away. You only need to make one mistake, then it’s over.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” I said sourly. “Can I go now?”
“Yeah. Get out of here… boss. ” So Ford wasn’t going to mention Y Tse either. Not surprising, given he’d always hated him and had probably fired the bullet personally. What was I going to do about Y Tse and Adrian? I wanted to find out why they’d vanished and make the bastards who’d killed them pay. But if those bastards were The Cardinal and Ford Tasso…
There was Ama too. I’d planned to squeal on her. I would have, I think, if I hadn’t discovered those damn puppets. They’d thrown me all over again. I wanted to be The Cardinal’s chosen one, but I wanted to know what was going on too, why Adrian and Y Tse had disappeared, who Ama was, what the Ayuamarca list was, why I couldn’t recall my past. I could live with failure but not with uncertainty.
I decided I’d go to Pier 15. Hear what she had to say. Find out who these Ayuamarcans were. Maybe even track down Paucar Wami and see what he had to say on the matter. After that, when I knew where I stood and why I was there? I’d cross that abyss when I came to it.
I left the car in the middle of the city—I didn’t want Thomas seeing where I was going. I walked around a while, trying to determine whether or not I was being tailed. I didn’t know how closely The Cardinal was monitoring me. I didn’t think he was having me shadowed, but I wasn’t about to chance it.
I entered a phone booth for privacy and began dialing on my cell. I could remember the name of the man I wanted but not the firm he worked for. It took a while but finally I found the right company. He was off duty and the operator didn’t want to divulge private information, but I persuaded her to connect me with the manager and sweet-talked him into patching me through. I told him I worked for The Cardinal and had left some papers in the taxi, papers he wouldn’t want his firm to be associated with. Railroading people is easy if you speak sharply and threaten vaguely.
“Who is this?” the cabbie snarled when he came on the line. “And don’t give me no secret papers shit. Did Margaret put you up to this?”
“Mr. Mead,” I said, pleased to hear that snapping voice again, “my name’s Capac Raimi. You don’t know me but you’ve given me lifts a couple of times. I lied about the papers but I do work for The Cardinal. I need your help.”
He said nothing for a moment, pondering my words. “What do you want?” he finally asked warily.
“You mouthed off about The Cardinal a while back—”
“So what?” he yelled. “You gonna kill me for that? Fuck you. Come and try. I don’t care shit for—”
“Mr. Mead,” I said, “I need a ride.”
“What?”
“I have to meet somebody and if The Cardinal finds out, I’m in trouble. Can you help me? It’s dangerous. You’d be risking a lot. If you don’t want to hear any more, I’ll fully understand.”
He said nothing for a few seconds. “You want a ride?” he asked in the end.
“Yes.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you say so in the first place? Where do you wanna be picked up?”
I leaned my head against the wall of the booth, thanked the gods and told him where to get me. He drew up to the curb smoothly half an hour later, appearing out of the fog like a ghost. He glanced around suspiciously. I sidled up to the back door and slipped in. “You Raimi?” he asked.
“Yes. Nice to meet you again, Nathanael. I’m grateful to you for coming. It means a lot.” He had a wool cap pulled over his ears and dark glasses. “Nice disguise,” I joked.
“No sarcasm in my cab,” he snapped. “Where are we going?”
“The docks. Pier 15. You know it?”
He snorted derisively. “You wanna go there quick or slow?”
“Normal. I don’t want to draw attention.” He nodded and set off briskly, barely allowing for the fog, cutting across traffic without a second look.
I kept peering out the back window, searching for the cars I was sure must be following, in the throes of a paranoia attack. “Do you think we’re being tailed?” I asked.
“In this fog? I doubt it. Besides, unless they put up a neon sign, Iwouldn’t notice. I’m just a cabbie. I don’t know shit about cloak- and-dagger.”
The fog began to thin as we got closer to the docks and it became easier to spot mysterious followers. There weren’t any. All the same, I had Nathanael drop me at Pier 16 as an extra precaution. “You’ll wait here for me?” I asked.
He tapped the running meter. “Take all the time you need. I can wait. Got the radio and my papers—what more is there in life?”
“I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours,” I told him. I felt the handle of the knife through the fabric of my jacket. I was going to bring a gun but decided on the knife in the end—quieter, cleaner. “If you see any cars circling, or anything that looks suspect, take off. I don’t want you getting killed.”
“You’re all heart,” he said. “A true humanitarian.”
“No,” I replied, “but I might need to use you again one day.” I slapped the roof of the car. “See you soon. I hope.”
I left Nathanael Mead with his radio and papers and made the trek across to Pier 15. There was a breeze blowing in off the river, dispersing the covering fog. There was nobody in sight but I skulked along in the shadows of enormous, empty warehouses anyway. They smelled of salt and dead fish. I’d need to bathe for hours to rid myself of the stench.
I was early but she’d gotten there before me nonetheless. She was leaning against a rotting wooden door eight times her height, held together with the huge steel bolts they were so fond of back in the old days. She was dressed in blue jeans, a white Aran sweater and a long black trench coat. The wind caught the tails of the coat when she turned at my call, whipping it into the air.
I tried not to think about how she looked. This woman might be able to clear up the mystery of Adrian and Y Tse. And whether she did or not, I had to keep in mind that she was an enemy. Once I’d heard what she had to say—unless it was something truly extraordinary—I’d slit her throat and dump her in the river. She’d be my first kill. I wasn’t certain I could do it but I’d give it a damn good try.
“You came,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d show. How’d you get here?”
“I know a guy who’s no fan of The Cardinal. He brought me. You?”
“Scooter.” She pointed it out. A small model, nestled behind an abandoned Dumpster.
“So what do you have to tell me?” I asked. “What’s the Ayuamarca file?”
“You don’t beat about the bush,” she commented. “Don’t worry, I’ll get around to that. First I want to know more about you. I don’t really know anything except you work for The Cardinal, you sell insurance, and you’re a pretty good lay. Tell me about yourself. Don’t hold back.”
I thought for a few seconds. “My name’s Capac Raimi. I came to this city about a year ago to be a gangster with my Uncle Theo…”
I told her about the early days, Theo’s untimely demise, meeting The Cardinal, Adrian, Y Tse, Leonora (I left out Conchita). I even told her my fa
vorite foods and movies. I talked for twenty minutes solid.
“All done?” she asked when I ran out of breath. I nodded. “Good. I’ll know better than to ask you such a vague question again. Jesus on an accordion! But for all you said, you left much out. You didn’t tell me about the real Capac Raimi. All I got was recent history. How about your youth? Was your father a gangster? What were your brothers and sisters like? When did you decide to embark on a life of crime? Come on, Capac, fill me in. I’m fascinated.” She was taunting me, trying to make me feel uncomfortable. She was succeeding.
“That stuff’s not important,” I waved it away. “Who cares where I was born and how I grew up? It’s old hat.”
“I like old hats. They keep my ears warm.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Everything matters.” She tickled my nose, then quickly licked it. “Come on,” she breathed, “tell Auntie Ama all about it.” I tried to grab her but she danced away. “Uh-uh, not until you’ve told me about your past.”
“Fuck the past!” I shouted angrily. “I don’t care about it. The past didn’t matter when we were screwing like rabbits on the stairs.”
“True,” she said. “But rabbits always end up with a bullet in their brains and their bones on a plate.” She left the shadow of the building and crossed to the edge of the pier. Picked up a handful of small pebbles and skimmed them across the face of the calm river. I followed her into what little sun was managing to creep through the eddying clouds of fog. We could have been the last man and woman in a postapocalyptic ghost town. She spoke without looking at me.
“I went to Party Central again last night. I wanted to check on you. I pulled your files, the special ones that The Cardinal keeps hidden where only the elite can find them. Have you seen those files?”
“No.”
“They’re incredibly detailed. Obsessively so. Lists of your clients, your friends and associates. A full itinerary of your time in the city, going back to when you were working for your uncle. Clubs you went to, women you’ve fucked, deals you were in on. Your favorite drinks and hobbies, notes on the way you walk and talk. Pictures of you, from pissing in urinals to making love to sleeping. Where you shop, what you buy, what you eat. Samples of your handwriting, with specialist assessments. They note the shaving foam you use, how often you wash, how often you change clothes. Details of your finances. The most complete files I’ve ever seen. But there’s one thing missing. One minor discrepancy.”