Noir Fatale

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Noir Fatale Page 11

by Larry Correia


  She stared at me for a moment. It wasn’t pleasant. “Why do you say they were part of a gang?”

  “Some tattoo. One I hadn’t seen before, but they all had it. Three overlapping circles making a triangle shape. The center where they overlap was filled in. Sound familiar?”

  “No,” she said slowly, “and I don’t like not knowing.”

  “That makes the both of us.”

  “I’ll look into it.” She stopped in front of my building without my prompting. “Here we are.”

  “You have the location of my home memorized? I was barely assigned it.”

  “I know where all the Directorate officers currently reside.”

  “And do you track our movements as well?” I made it sound like a joke. It wasn’t.

  Petra looked confused. “I know most things. I am very good at my job.” Without waiting, she walked through the door and up the stairs to my home.

  ✧ ✧ ✧

  Petra stared at the mess, unmoving. Helena was in my room, out of view, not wanting to see what was about to happen.

  The cleaner nodded once, then opened her bag. She pulled out a battlefield surgeon’s saw and several bottles. Some held amber-colored fluid, the others rust-colored.

  “This home is assigned a bathtub, yes?” Petra looked in the direction of my room where the tub was also located.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Porcelain?”

  “Yes.”

  She put away the amber liquid. “This won’t take long. Where is the body of the other man you say you killed?”

  “Left him in an alley.”

  She nodded. “I imagine the corpse-eaters will find him and drag him down. At worst, the dogs get him. Good enough. Now, don’t bother me.”

  ✧ ✧ ✧

  Petra left a half hour later. The liquid—an Almacian alchemical creation I knew she bought off the black market—dissolved the corpses in my tub without leaving a mark. She even had something to take away the bloodstains on my floor.

  Helena was asleep again. Poor thing was exhausted. She’d done well, though. Tougher than some of the officers I worked with. I wedged a chair under the door handle, then collapsed back to my chair.

  I don’t remember falling asleep, but suddenly I was awake again. Sunlight was streaming through my window. I pushed myself out of the chair, stretched my aching back, and went to wake Helena. She was curled under a blanket, wisps of hair lying across her cheekbones and nose. She looked younger in her sleep. More vulnerable, if that were possible. I was about to clear my throat to wake her when someone pounded on my door. Helena’s eyes sprang open. She had a look of momentary confusion on her face, then her gaze found mine. I put a finger to my lips and motioned for her to get out of sight.

  “Yeah?” I yelled at the door.

  “It’s Vasily. Let me in, we need to talk.”

  I pulled the chair away from the door and let my partner in.

  “You look like a corpse, Kristoph,” he said, brushing by me. He went straight to my desk, opened the top drawer, and pulled out my bottle of alcohol and a glass. He poured himself a measure and downed it in a single swallow. I suppose I should have been grateful he didn’t drink straight from the bottle. “What happened?”

  “Rough night,” I said. I needed him to get to the point, and then get out. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “There’s a rumor going around about a full summoning phrase on the black market. Some woman claims to be selling it. You heard about it?”

  I shrugged. “No. You sure it’s the real deal?”

  “Doesn’t have to be to be worth checking into. If it’s real, the bosses want it locked up tight in the vault at the Directorate with all the other phrase pieces we haven’t converted into armor for the Wall.” He paused to pour another drink. “If you go looking for this thing, I want in.”

  “Why would I bother?”

  Vasily’s drink stopped just short of his mouth. His eyes narrowed. “I know you, Kristoph. I know you want advancement. And now I know you are looking for the summoning phrase.” He set the glass back down, then pointed at me. “You’re not freezing me out of this.”

  My partner wasn’t normally this pushy. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You do. I want to know what you know. Did you already find the girl?”

  I held up my hands, doing my best to play dumb. Vasily was either smarter than I gave him credit for or…

  …or he already knew.

  He’d left early the day before. The same day I’d had two lethal encounters with the people looking for Helena. He’d been gone a lot lately over the last few weeks.

  Wait.

  Helena’s family had been murdered just a few weeks ago. Had Vasily been gone around that time? I couldn’t remember. Could he have heard about the discovery, then gone down and killed them all, stealing the phrase? Either to sell or turn over to the Chancellor himself. But before he can do either, he hears the rumors of Helena’s interest and realizes he needs to clean up a loose end?

  It made sense. It wouldn’t have been the first time a Directorate officer had been ordered to kill a few farmers—officially, or by some rogue members—to acquire pieces of golems. Then he spins it as an investigation. Asks for his partner’s help. No matter what I did, he’d end up following me.

  I needed to get him set off on something else to buy some time.

  “Alright, alright,” I said. “I had a run-in last night after you left early. Caught a guy mugging a girl who was on her way to our offices. I killed the guy.”

  “The girl? She here?” He turned to walk into my bedroom.

  “No,” I said, then pointed down at the floor to shift his attention. “She ran off. But two more followed me home, and I killed them right there. Had to call Petra. She just left. Anyway, someone must have thought this mystery girl came home with me.”

  “How do you know the girl was coming to see us?”

  “She said as much before running. Told me where she was staying. A boardinghouse a couple of blocks south of us. I imagine she was referring to the one on Victory Prospekt.”

  “You sure she said she was at the boardinghouse on Victory?”

  “She didn’t mention it by name,” I said with a frown. Something in Vasily’s tone…like he already knew she was staying there. Maybe he did. There were so many contradictory details in what he was telling me. They didn’t match Helena’s story. “But you and I both know there’s only one boardinghouse that way.”

  “Right. Sorry. Must have slipped my mind.” He was distracted. Obviously lying. “Did she have the item on her?”

  I shrugged. “I was busy staying alive. Why don’t you head over there and check it out? I’m going to see about tracking down the guys that attacked me.” I pointed at him the same way he’d done to me. “But remember, I brought you in on this. I was going to keep it all to myself. If you screw me, I’ll make sure Petra knows it. You know how protective of me she is.”

  Vasily paled, nodded, and was about to leave when I said, “Oh, she said her name was Helena. Does that verify any of the rumors you heard?”

  It was there and gone, but I saw the recognition. He knew her name. Without another word he left and slammed the door behind him.

  I put the chair back under the handle—a little paranoia never hurt anyone—and walked into my room. Helena was huddled in the corner to the right, knees to her chest just like in the alley. She had tears running down her cheeks. There aren’t many things worse in life than seeing a beautiful woman cry.

  I knelt down beside her and took her trembling hand. “Helena, what’s wrong?”

  “He…he was one of the men who killed my family.”

  “You are sure?”

  She nodded. “I recognized the voice, then risked a look. I’ll never forget him. He cut my father’s throat, then snapped his neck…I…I think just for fun.”

  That certainly seemed like an accurate representation of Vas
ily’s tactics.

  She pulled my hand to her tear-damp cheek and said, “Don’t let him kill me. You know that’s what he wants, don’t you?”

  “I do,” I said. Her skin was so soft beneath my hand. She looked up with tear-filled eyes, and I couldn’t help myself. I leaned forward and kissed her. Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer. I tasted the salt from her tears, and for the first time in years, I felt like I could truly trust someone.

  I broke away and stood up, pulling Helena up with me. Her cheeks were flushed, and she ran hands over and through her blond tresses.

  “Nothing will happen to you, Helena. I swear it.”

  “Are you going to lock me in a room? Like one of those relics Vasily says you keep locked away?”

  The truth was, I was considering it. I didn’t want her anywhere near danger. But that look in her eyes. Like she was feeling betrayed by something I hadn’t even done yet. So instead I gave her my most reassuring smile. “Of course not. I need your help.”

  That crooked smile reappeared on her face, and she stood up on her toes to kiss me again. “What do you need me to do?”

  “I’m going to introduce you to an information broker. You’re going to tell him you want to sell the real summoning phrase. You’re going to tell him you want to sell it to this group with the tattoos on their necks, because the one they stole was a fake. You can prove it with the real one in your possession.”

  “It’s a trap.”

  “Indeed, my dear Helena.”

  “So they bring the one they stole. What…what are you going to do with whomever shows up?”

  I took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Helena, I’m going to make sure they can never hurt you again.”

  ✧ ✧ ✧

  I waited in the shadow of an alley across from a water dispensary. The line out front was longer than usual. With the weather just beginning to warm, even the slightest increase in temperature meant an increase in water consumption. The sad part was knowing how few of the people in line would actually receive their allocation, ration voucher be damned. The bulk of rations went to the wealthy aristocrats, and the majority of the remainder went to the military in their endless war against Almacia.

  There wasn’t anything I could do for the poor, and their station in life was set. But I could improve my own lot in life, unlike them. All it would take was reclaiming the stolen phrase.

  The information broker was the guard midway through the line. His uniform was the cleanest of all the guards. Not clean in a normal way, but in the fanatical sense. His name was Donal Gelan. He knew how to get in touch with every black-market dealer, every gang, every prostitute, and every hired killer in Cobetsnya. He ran the business with his brother Abert.

  By all rights, we should have shut him down years ago, but in truth Donal was too valuable. Patriotism only went so far, even among the police of the Tsardom. We all needed things—information to illicit goods—from time to time. Donal was the best way. Rather than setting up shop in a specific place, he maintained his position as an enlisted guard. No one knew why.

  After an hour of waiting, Helena was nearly there. She held a yellow handkerchief where Donal could see it, one of the many ways to show one needed to speak with him.

  Donal approached her and motioned for her to step out of line. He took her out of earshot from the line and acted as if he were questioning her. The waiting masses wisely kept their gazes averted. Garnering the attention of the guards, no matter the situation, was generally more trouble than it was worth.

  After a few moments, Helena walked away from the line, head bowed in mock submission. Behind her, Donal was already walking away from his post—normally an offence worthy of a firing squad, but his fellow guards knew better than to report him.

  I pulled Helena into the alley. “You set it up?”

  She nodded. “I told him I didn’t think it would be possible for him to set up a meeting for tonight, just like you said. You were right. He took it as a challenge. Said to meet back here after nightly curfew.”

  “Good. Now we wait.” I gave her a reassuring smile. “This will all be over soon.”

  ✧ ✧ ✧

  The night’s air was frigid. Brittle. Harsh.

  The perfect night for violence.

  We both stood in the same alley as earlier in the day, awaiting the thieves and murderers whom we would rob and kill.

  “Now, this looks a lot like you cutting me out of the deal.”

  We both turned and saw Vasily approaching from the opposite side of the alley. He’d either followed us or, more likely, knew where we would be waiting because he was part of the gang that had killed Helena’s family and stolen the summoning phrase.

  “Didn’t think you’d want to be part of a waiting game,” I lied.

  “Right. And who are we waiting for?”

  “I think you know.”

  “You’d be right.”

  I wanted to spit back a curse at him, but words weren’t going to accomplish anything. Helena hugged me close, arms inside my coat.

  Vasily nodded past me. “Looks like the people we are waiting for have finally showed up. How much is the payout? What did the girl here offer you?”

  I frowned at that. His words didn’t make sense. He should already know all the details of this exchange. For the first time, a tickle of unease wormed its way down my spine.

  All the inconsistencies…

  Before I could ask Helena about it, Donal’s connections stepped into earshot. There were only two of them. If this was all of them, that would mean there were five total, plus Vasily.

  Five…

  “You have what we want?” one called out.

  “I need to see that you are who you say you are,” I replied. “Show us the item.”

  One of the men—he had bright blond hair that shone in the moonlight—pulled a rectangle-shaped stone from his pocket and held it up. I could barely make out carving on it. It was the summoning phrase.

  “We have the real one over here,” I lied. “Did you bring the money?”

  “Money?” the blond man said, smiling. “I think you misunderstand why you are here.”

  “I haven’t misunderst…” I trailed off, that smile sticking in my brain.

  Uneven. The right side happy, the left a little shy…

  It all hit me at once.

  I looked down at Helena, who still had her arms around me. She had a soft touch. So soft, in fact, that I didn’t even feel her pull my knife free. But I felt when she stabbed me. That’s a pain I’d never experienced before. Hot pain, cold shock. And the—worse still—the horrible realization that I’d been played.

  All the inconsistencies between stories. All her looks. Her shyness. Five brothers and now five total members of some unknown gang. Those looks of horror hadn’t been because I’d killed random people. She’d made them because I’d killed her compatriots.

  But what did she want? What was Vasily’s arrangement?

  As I slid to the ground, hand pressed to my side, Vasily stepped forward and said, “We had a deal! You weren’t gonna kill him! We—”

  Helena moved fast. So unbelievably fast. Vasily was not a man to be trifled with, but she made him look like an amateur. She stepped close to him, her hand a blur as she stabbed him over and over in the chest. Had that been five times? Six? My partner stumbled back, hit the wall of the alley, then slid down. He grabbed at his chest as blood leaked from him.

  Helena bent over him and went through his pockets. She pulled out his identification papers and stuffed them into her coat.

  The blond brother stood over me, his own knife drawn. He dropped the stone he’d held up earlier, then grabbed my hair and put the point of the blade to my eye. “This is for my brothers,” he said, then drew his arm back for a stab.

  “No,” Helena said. Was her voice soft? Far away? Maybe that was the blood loss and shock doing funny things. “Leave him be.”

  “But—”

  “Touch him
and I’ll gut you from throat to crotch, brother,” she said.

  The blond brother snorted in disgust then walked off down the alley. Helena knelt next to me and set my knife down on the ground in the expanding pool of my blood.

  “Vasily said you had a weakness for women.” That smile again. It was still beautiful. She was still beautiful. “For a member of the police, you are so poor at reading people. So is your friend Vasily. I spent weeks with him—not the smartest man. You should know that he didn’t want you dead, it’s true. He didn’t like you, and he was selling you out, but he didn’t want you dead.

  “I like you, Kristoph. Don’t worry about killing a few of my brothers. They are dumb as bricks, and about as useful.” She leaned in and kissed me. It was a spot of warmth in an encroaching cold. “You’ve done Belgracia a favor today. With your papers and Vasily’s, we may just be able to get into Directorate S unchallenged. We’ll take whatever your vault has and use it to declare independence. Thank you.”

  She got up and began walking away. She had only gone a few steps when she stopped and said without turning, “I hope we meet again under more honest circumstances. I think…I think we could have been special together.”

  Then she was gone.

  I was losing a lot of blood. One look showed Vasily was at the edge of death. How long did he have? Minutes? His blood and mine together would be enough to draw a corpse-eater. I had no desire to see one of those ghoulish creatures break up from the ground, and I desired even less for it to mistake me for one of the dead and drag me back under with it.

  As I moved to crawl away from the alley, my hand touched the summoning phrase Helena’s brother had dropped. I grabbed it and held it up. Lead. As fake as her story. I put it in my coat pocket anyway.

  I crawled. I crawled all the way north to Alexandr Prospekt. I had no help. I had no voice to call to the darkened houses surrounding me—not that anyone would come to help. I took a handkerchief from my pocket—the bright yellow one Helena had used early in the day—and shoved it against the stab wound. Then I shoved myself to my feet and shambled along the thoroughfare. I don’t know how long it took me to reach Directorate S. How many times had I fallen, then gotten back up? I imagine I’d left quite the blood trail.

 

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