For Heaven's Eyes Only (44 page)

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Authors: Simon R. Green

BOOK: For Heaven's Eyes Only
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I always meant to do a tour of all the big city names, and put the fear of God into them. But I’d barely made a start, only got as far as Ashtree, when the Hungry Gods war kicked off . . . and then there were the Immortals, and I was so busy. . . . City cases, business cases, seemed such small fry compared to the end of the world. Of course, that was before we found out what the bankers were really up to. . . .
Sir Terrence Ashtree, also known as Terry the Toad because of his complete willingness to screw over anybody in pursuit of a deal or because they were in his way. Not that his ruthlessness had ever done him much good, as such. Until recently . . . Word was, Terry the Toad was on the way up, a man to be reckoned with, which, at his middle age, was something of a surprise. Cutthroat business is a young man’s game. I’d been vaguely aware of changes in the city recently, but hadn’t paid it much attention. I hadn’t known about the satanic conspiracy then.
I turned my attention back to Charlatan Joe. He’d almost stopped crying. His eyes were red and puffy, his mouth loose and trembling.
“Where’s Isabella Metcalf right now?” I said.
“I don’t know! I don’t know! I swear, I don’t! The conspiracy has her; everyone knows that . . . but I don’t know anything! They don’t tell people like me things like that. If only so people like you can’t beat it out of people like me.”
He had a point. I stepped away from him, lowering my hand, and he almost collapsed in sheer relief. He smiled and nodded at me, eager to show his gratitude, and I almost wanted to hit him for being so pathetic. For making me feel like such a monster.
“Why?” I said. “Why did a small-time con artist like you get in bed with the Satanists in the first place?”
“For the money,” said Charlatan Joe. “That’s what I do. And the money was really good. . . .”
Yes,
I thought.
That is what you do, what you’ve always done. The clue is in the name. I always knew what kind of man you were, all those years we were friends. What right have I to feel angry now?
“Vanish,” I said. “Go on; get out of here. Lose yourself somewhere in the great wide world where no one will think to look for you. Until the Droods and the Metcalf sisters finally forgive you.”
“But . . . that could take forever!” said Charlatan Joe.
“Yes,” I said. “But that’s all the mercy I have in me today.”
I took him to the nearest exit. Forced the door open with my armoured strength, so that it opened onto some back alley somewhere. Joe gaped at me.
“That isn’t supposed to be possible,” he said. “No one can open those doors, except the club owners. Everyone knows that.”
“You’d be surprised what a Drood can do when he’s mad enough,” I said.
Charlatan Joe hurried through the open door, and I forced it shut behind him. I never saw him again.
I took out the Merlin Glass, activated it and opened up a doorway between the club and Drood Hall. Molly came straight through and I shut the Glass down. I didn’t want anyone else to see what I’d done. What I’d become. Molly looked quickly about her as I put the Glass away, taking in the dimly lit club, the wreckage, the bloody, unconscious forms of Bishop Beastly and the Indigo Spirit.
“Well,” she said. “You can always tell where a Drood’s been. . . . Eddie, what happened here?”
“I did,” I said. “You wanted answers, remember?”
Molly came forward to stand before me, and I armoured down. She put a hand to my face, and her fingers came away wet. I hadn’t realised I’d been crying.
“Oh, Eddie, what have you done?”
“Bad things,” I said. “Necessary things.”
“You did this to them? I thought they were your friends.”
“I’m not always a very good friend. Comes with the job.”
“Eddie,” said Molly, “this isn’t like you. I don’t like you like this.”
I looked at her, a sudden anger flushing my face. “I did this for you! You want your sister back, don’t you?”
“I want my Eddie back!”
“When it’s over,” I said. “I’ll be back when it’s over. Until then . . . it’s all about the conspiracy. I will do what I have to do to stop them. To save Humanity. To save the children.”
“You can’t fight evil with evil methods,” said Molly. “I should know. Fighting evil is supposed to bring out the best in us, not the worst.”
I managed a small smile. “Shouldn’t we be on opposite sides of this argument? Shouldn’t I be lecturing you on excessive behaviour?”
She came into my arms and hugged me tightly, and I hugged her back like a drowning man clinging to a straw. Molly finally pushed me away.
“We’ve been through a lot,” she said. “We need drinks. We need really big drinks.” She leaned over the bar and scowled down at the hiding bartenders. “You! Serial face! I want the finest wines in creation, all mixed together in one bloody big glass, shaken not stirred, with two curly-wurly straws.”
The bartender she was addressing shrugged helplessly. “If it were up to me, you could have one of everything, on the house, with a little parasol. But when the electromagnetic pulse went off, it shut down all the machinery. Management keeps all the booze in a pocket dimension attached to the bar, and with the systems down we can’t reach it. We can’t serve anything until management turns up and hits the reset button.”
“I hate you,” said Molly.
To take her mind off that, I filled her in on everything I’d learned from Charlatan Joe. It didn’t take long.
“That’s it?” said Molly. “Just one name? What about Isabella? Where are they holding her?”
“He said he didn’t know anything about that,” I said.
“And you believed him?”
“After what I did to him? Yes. You can’t make people tell you what they don’t know.”
“I can come bloody close,” Molly growled. “I can’t believe you let the little creep go.”
“We’ve got a new name,” I said. “A new lead, a new way into the conspiracy. Terry the Toad was an important member of the business establishment, even before he joined the conspiracy. Odds are he knows all kinds of important things. And names. Want to go have a word with him?”
“Try to stop me,” said Molly.
And then her head snapped round as she tried to look in every direction at once. “Did you feel that? What the hell was that? The whole atmosphere in this place changed. The temperature’s dropped; something’s sucking all the energy out of the room. . . . Something’s coming. Something bad.”
“The Wulfhead’s security,” I said. “The Roaring Boys.”
“Oh, shit,” said Molly. “Eddie, get the Glass working. Get it working right now, because I really don’t want to be here when they arrive. Even I have enough sense to be scared of the Roaring Boys.”
I already had the Merlin Glass out and activated. “I’m pretty sure I could take them,” I said. “But I think I’ve probably done enough damage here for one day.”
“This is no time to be getting cocky, Eddie! Get us the hell out of here!”
I opened a door between the club and a certain office deep in the city, and we both stepped quickly through into the outer office of Sir Terrence Ashtree. A terrible roaring sound filled the club on the other side of the mirror, wild and awful and full of fury, as something awful downloaded into the Wulfshead. I shut down the Glass. It almost seemed to fight me for a moment, as though something were trying to force it open from the other side; but the connection was quickly broken, and the Glass was only a hand mirror again. I put it away and joined Molly in checking out where we’d arrived.
My family would make apologies to the Wulfshead management. And they would accept, because we all have to do business together sometime.
We’d arrived in Ashtree’s outer office: fairly old, maybe even Victorian originally, with lots of heavy wood panelling on the walls, and really quite ugly furniture. The only modern touch was the highly efficient computer on the secretary’s desk. There was no one around. It was all very peaceful and quiet, and therefore worrying.
“I’ve been here before,” I said to Molly. “I’m sure Sir Terrence will remember me. Still . . . this is odd.”
“Odd?” Molly said immediately. “How odd?”
“This is the outer office, where the secretary makes you wait till Terry the Toad is ready to see you,” I said. “And like all bosses’ secretaries, she’s there to guard his privacy and her territory like an attack dog. So . . . where is she?”
We both looked at the empty desk. The computer was turned off; everything was neat and tidy, not even a half-finished cup of coffee.
“Let’s go see if Terry the Toad is in,” said Molly. “Since we’ve come all this way.”
“Yes,” I said. “Let’s do that. I’m sure we’ve got lots to talk about.”
The heavy door that led into Ashtree’s very private office wasn’t locked. I tried the handle carefully, mindful of booby traps, but it turned easily in my hand. I slammed the door all the way open with my shoulder, and Molly and I strode in. Ashtree was sitting quietly behind his desk, a tired old man in a crumpled suit, his face drawn, haggard. He didn’t so much as flinch when Molly and I made our entrance. He nodded to both of us slowly.
“I’ve been waiting for someone,” he said. “I knew somebody would come eventually. But I can’t say I recognise either of you.”
“Edwin Drood,” I said. “And Molly Metcalf.”
“Ah. Yes. Isabella’s sister. Please come in; make yourselves comfortable. I have so many things to say to you.”
I had a good look round his office, but there didn’t seem to be any hidden assassins crouching in the corners, so I pulled out a chair for Molly and then dropped easily into one beside her. Ashtree didn’t move at all, looking us over with tired curiosity.
“Edwin . . . Yes. I do remember you. . . . I was actually pleased to see you, you know. I never did get on with Matthew.”
“Not many did,” I said. “Do you know why we’re here?”
Of course. I’m surprised it’s taken you this long. I left a clear enough trail. I’m glad you’re here, so I can get this over with. I never wanted any of this, you know. It was . . . I’d struggled so long, trying to be the success in business I was supposed to be, even though I never had any taste for it. . . . But it was what my family wanted, so I went along. . . . You’d know all about that, Edwin. But I never got anywhere that mattered, or achieved anything of note, no matter how hard I tried. So when this new satanic conspiracy came looking for me, head-hunted me . . . I jumped at the chance. You do know about the . . . Of course you do. I didn’t think they were
real
, you see. . . . I mean, who believes in satanic conspiracies in this day and age? I thought it was like the old Hellfire Club, a chance to dress up and play games. . . .
Suddenly everything I touched was golden. I was the big man in the city my family had always wanted me to be. I had everything I’d ever wanted. I was happy, you see. Such a long time since I’d been happy . . . So when they told me to pass some information on to Charlatan Joe, I thought . . . Why not? Who’s Isabella Metcalf to me? I had to do it in a certain way, using some rather unpleasant magics, but . . . it was all playing the game; you see? I should have known better. Nothing’s ever simple or straightforward in the conspiracy. It’s all plans within plans, traps within traps. . . .
I was there when the conspiracy kidnapped Isabella. Snatched her right out of her own teleport spell. They have very powerful people working for them. She put up one hell of a fight. I was impressed. But the conspiracy people had all kinds of weapons and dirty tricks at their command, and they . . . wore her down. And when she was helpless, stripped of all her magics, they . . . did things to her. They hurt her horribly, broke her spirit, defiled and abused her . . . and laughed while they did it. They let me watch. It was their idea of a reward. They thought I’d enjoy it.
It sickened me.
“I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I thought I was a hard man, up for anything . . . but to my surprise, it seems there was a good man inside all along, struggling to get out. There was a line I wouldn’t cross. I couldn’t help Isabella, but I couldn’t stand by and watch. They saw the weakness in me; they
knew
I wasn’t one of them anymore. So I came here to wait for whoever found me first. I could have run, could have hidden, but . . . I think I need to be punished for what I’ve done.”
“Is she alive?” Molly said harshly. “My sister? Is Isabella still alive?”
“As far as I know,” said Ashtree. “They took her away with them. Dragged her off . . . So much blood. I’d never seen so much blood before. They said they had a use for her, you see. I didn’t know any of that was going to happen! You must believe me; I didn’t know. . . . I never understood what I was getting into. Or maybe . . . I didn’t want to understand, because I was having such a good time. . . . I didn’t believe in Devil worshippers. Didn’t believe in the Devil. But it turns out he believed in me. . . . I’m not a bad person, Eddie, Molly. . . . Not really. I’ve done bad things, I know, things I’m not proud of, but it was just to get on. . . . Nobody ever really got hurt.”
“If you want to atone,” I said, “help us find Isabella. And the mind-influencing machine. And the leaders of the conspiracy.”
“You don’t understand,” said Ashtree. “I never dealt with people on that level, never worked with anyone that high up. I was never that important to the conspiracy.”
“Did you know about the Great Sacrifice?” I said.
“No!” said Ashtree. “I never dreamed . . . I had no idea. I was just in charge of raising money! Moving numbers around . . .”
“You must know something,” I said. “Something that can help us. That’s why you stayed, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” said Ashtree. “That’s why I’m glad you found me first. I was at Lightbringer House, you see, to make a report, and I happened to pass by a door that was a little ajar. Curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked. And there he was, the great leader of the satanic conspiracy, holding a private meeting. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it was
him
! I knew him; I’d had dealings with him in the past. I couldn’t believe such a small man could be the leader of the conspiracy. But then, I suppose it’s always the small men with big ambitions. . . .”

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