Брайан Макклеллан - Uncanny Collateral

I rolled my eyes. “Got some questions for you, Kappie.”

Kappie licked his lips like a fat man eyeing a succulent desert. “Questions? Questions? Have you joined OtherOps now, Alek? If that’s the case, you should identify yourself immediately. Unless they’ve changed their handbook.”

“I’m not with OtherOps.” I resisted the urge to look around for a sink. Talking with imps always made me want to wash my hands, and Kappie was worse than most.

“Reapers aren’t in the business of asking questions,” Kappie rasped thoughtfully. “Unless you’re here to ask my help in finding a debtor. In which case, we need to talk about a fee first.”

“I’m curious if you know anything about a group of imps that wound up dead downtown yesterday.”

Where are you taking this, Alek? Maggie asked. Do you really want to tell him you killed five of his kind? He won’t let you walk out of here alive.

He’s not going to find out who did it, I assured her.

Kappie raised thick eyebrows. “Dead imps? I haven’t heard a word. Should I be expecting a visit from OtherOps?”

He’s telling the truth, Maggie interjected.

“I doubt it,” I said. “OtherOps doesn’t know they’re dead.”

“Did you kill them?”

The question shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. I kept my expression neutral. “What business would I have killing imps?”

Kappie lifted his chin, eyeballing me down the bridge of his nose. “Because you hate us. Or you think imps are stealing from one of your clients.”

“Are they?” I asked.

Kappie cocked an eyebrow, then leaned against the railing of the catwalk. “From your demeanor, I can assume that someone is. It’s the only reason you would come out here. Beyond breaking my nose, that is. If you told me the name of the client who was robbed, I might be able to help…”

“Just answer the question: Have you or your kin been stealing from a Valkyrie client?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

He’s telling the truth, Maggie broke in again.

You’re sure? There was definitely a part of me that had hoped Kappie would be involved in this mess so I had an excuse to bring Ferryman’s wrath down on his head.

Sure as I can spot a liar.

“If you’re lying to me,” I told Kappie, “I’ll rip your ears off.”

Kappie seemed unaffected by the threat. “Now, now, Alek, no need for that kind of language. I’m not stupid. If you’re out here asking questions, that means that OtherOps hasn’t been involved yet. But if you fail, they will get involved, and dead imps will mean that they’ll question me first. I’m the last person who wants that. I’m being entirely honest. Let me see here…” he tapped his chin. “Have you checked with my competitors?”

“You don’t have competitors,” I said cautiously.

“On the contrary – two of my former colleagues from Paronskaft have been pressing in on my territory lately. This region has proven very profitable for some of my side businesses, and I won’t let them have a cut.”

“Do you have names?” I asked.

“Leave me a card, and I’ll have one of my people send them over,” Kappie said. I gave him my card, and he pocketed it. He paused, then added, “Call any of your contacts over at OtherOps. There’s an imp turf war brewing in the Midwest. I’ve been trying to stay out of it, but my territory is at the heart of it. If some dead imps turned up, you can likely look toward one of the names I’ll send you later.”

I tapped my foot. I hadn’t entirely convinced myself that Kappie was involved, but I definitely hadn’t expected him to be so cooperative. “All right, send me those names. If you hear anything at all about stolen Other goods, let me know immediately.” I turned and left before I had to look at his stupid face for any longer. I headed back to my truck, where I spent a few minutes watching imps load their semi while I meditated on his answer.

So everything he said is true ? I asked Maggie again.

Or at least he believes it’s true, she answered. He’s not responsible for Ferryman’s missing souls. Could it be one of his competitors?

Possibly, I said, but I’m not going to rule him out just yet. He was too straightforward. I’ve never met an imp that willing to answer questions.

Maybe he’s scared of the people moving in on his territory, Maggie suggested. If there’s a bigger, badder imp out there gunning for his turf, it might be in his interest to be honest with us.

An imp war. That’s the last damn thing we need right now. I started the truck, then opened the glove compartment, sorted through a handful of loose cigars – an old tip from Baron Samedi – and pulled out a bag of honey-roasted cashews. Snacking away, I drove out of the parking lot and headed toward the highway. “You Spin Me Right Round” came on the radio. I hummed along, thinking aloud at Maggie. I have my doubts that even an imp king is greedy enough to steal souls. Imps are involved – we’ve got a pile of their dead kin to prove it – but I have the feeling it’s going to lead back to something more dangerous than these little assholes.

What next? Maggie asked.

In answer, I dialed up Justin and listened to the ringer until his voice came on.

“Justin, it’s Alek. Quick question for you.”

“Hey! I was just about to call you. What’s up?”

I drove with my knee, cashews in one hand, phone in the other. “Have you heard any whispers about an imp war?”

“Seriously?” He laughed. “There’ve been whispers about an imp war for years. When they start turning up dead in large numbers, I’ll believe that one of those lazy asshole kings has finally decided to start something serious.”

I sucked the salty-sweet flavor off one of the cashews, deep in thought. This didn’t necessarily rule out the possibility that a war was coming, or that Kappie was afraid of one. But if Justin didn’t find the idea credible, I leaned toward believing him. “So,” I asked slowly, “if I were to send you some pictures of some imps, could you run IDs on them with no questions asked?”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious. No questions. ”

“Eh, nobody around here cares much for imps, and we still owe you for that thing with the bunyip. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thanks. I’ll buy the first two rounds next time we’re out. Oh, what were you about to call me about?”

“That necromancer kid.”

“He give you anything?”

“No, but our examiner finished with him. That kid is stupid powerful. We actually had to overnight special restraints for him so he wouldn’t have to be under personal guard twenty-four seven. I’m not sure if that actually matters or not, but I thought you’d want to know. If you hadn’t broken his fingers, he probably would’ve killed you in that Starbucks.”

I growled in frustration. I still needed to know who hired him. “Thanks for the info. I’ll send you photos of imps to ID.” I hung up and tapped the corner of the phone against my bottom canines to the tune of whatever was on the radio as I sought after one of those many niggling thoughts that had crept past me while talking to Kappie. I dialed Nadine.

When she picked up, I said, “Nadine, I need you to do a little hunting for me.”

“What kind of hunting, hun?”

“Something’s been bothering me about that thing with Judith Pyke. First, who would know that she lost her soul, and second, who would be in a position to know that she was disgruntled over the whole thing?”

“Is that a question?”

“No, I’m thinking out loud. Do this for me: call LuciCorp and see if you can get anything else out of her file – whether someone who works there happens to be friends with her, or if her old case worker might have gotten a windfall recently.”