Darren Shan - Hell's Horizon

“I’ve let you ride along anonymously. I haven’t pushed you or strewn obstacles in your path or pleaded with you to get off your lazy ass and disturb the world. I’m not usually so lenient but I figured it would be better to let you grow a pair of balls in your own good time.

“You didn’t, and events have conspired against you, so time’s up. The days of blind obedience and moral carte blanche have come to an end. You have to show your true colors now. Put that brain of yours in gear. Contribute more than just footwork. If you can’t or won’t, I want nothing more to do with you. Take this case and prove yourself, or start looking for alternative employment.

“You have two minutes to decide.”

Not wishing to appear a pushover, I spent ninety seconds pretending to struggle with my options, but in truth there was never a choice. To defy The Cardinal would have been suicide.

“OK,” I sighed. “Tell me what you want me to do.” Grinning, he leaned forward to explain, and the impression I had was of a vulture swooping in to feast on a kill.

I‘d switched my cell phone off while in conference with The Cardinal. As I changed clothes in the basement, I turned it back on. It rang before I made the door.

“Al? This is Bill. I’ve got some bad—”

“I know,” I interrupted.

“You do?” He sounded relieved.

“Can I ring you later, Bill? I’m kind of—”

“Sure. Whenever you want. I’ll be here.”

“Thanks.”

I cycled home with The Cardinal’s file under one arm, coming to terms with all that had happened. Finding Nic… meeting The Cardinal… learning of my father’s death… a forced career change.

He’d put all my other duties on hold. I was an independent agent now. Free to operate as I pleased. Answerable to no one bar himself. I was to request assistance if I needed it. Frank, Tasso, the Troops, his lawyers — all would be made available should I ask.

But where to start?

I hurried up the stairs, let myself in, switched on the lights and opened the file. If I was lucky, The Cardinal’s experts would have made my beginning for me, and I could simply follow their directions, tidy up after them, make a few inquiries, chase a few red herrings, declare my investigation a failure and get back to where I belonged. If I worked quickly it might be over by the weekend.

It didn’t take me long to realize that wasn’t in the cards.

The file was mind-boggling. Sheet after sheet of facts — where Nic went to school, her grades, her sources of income, friends, associates, names of those who’d made deliveries to her home, a seemingly complete list of shops she’d favored with her custom, clubs she’d frequented, vacations she’d enjoyed.

After an hour of scanning doggedly through the statistics, I threw the file away, stripped and had a shower. Turned it up hot, then down cold. Came out shivering but sharp. Dried myself, wrapped a towel around my middle and returned to the discarded papers.

A few minutes later I closed the file and laid it aside. The only way to approach something like this was with a purpose. What did I want? What did I need ?

Drawing up a sheet of paper, I jotted down a few thoughts.

The names of those closest to her would be essential. I knew she had a brother but what about other relatives? Maybe someone stood to gain financially from her death.

Old boyfriends. Could be a jealous ex-lover among them.

Her sun brooch and the carving on her back. I’d have to check on those. Find out where she got the brooch. Go through the list of organizations she was a member of — perhaps one of them boasted a sun symbol for an insignia.

What else…?

The night in question. Last Friday. I’d have to know where she’d been, whom she’d been with, what she’d been doing. That would be the best place to start — I might pick up a name or two that would make my other inquiries less complicated.

Laying down my pen, I turned aside from Nic for a while to ponder the death of my father. I wasn’t sure what I should feel. Even though I hadn’t known Nic very well, I knew more about her than about Tom Jeery. He’d been a vague figure in my life, hardly ever home when I was a child, turning up out of the blue every so often, disturbing my mother, disrupting our daily routine. I had very few clear memories of him. A couple of trips to the movies. An afternoon spent together in a park. Playing soccer on the road behind my house. I’d always thought he was a salesman, never felt close to him, never thought we had anything in common. And now…

Now I’d learned we were both in the pay of the same master, that years before I made any move to join the ranks of The Cardinal, he’d been there, testing the waters, preparing the way. I felt cheated. Many of my childhood friends had turned to criminal pursuits, but I was the only one from the old neighborhood to serve with the Troops. I’d thought I was something hot when Ford Tasso singled me out for special treatment. Now I realized he’d only done it because of my father. That bugged the hell out of me.

I’d have to think on it some more one day. Make inquiries, find out what sort of a man he’d been, what kind of impact I should allow his death to have on me. But not now. I’d deal with Nic first and get The Cardinal off my back. Playing detective was going to take up a lot of my time. I couldn’t afford distractions.

I passed a couple more hours scouring the file, digging out names and relevant details. There was more to Nic Hornyak than I’d imagined. I’d never pegged her for a virgin, but according to these reports she’d been with everything on two legs in the city. If I had to search among the ranks of ex-lovers for her killer, it would be a long, arduous task.

I’d had enough for one night, so I laid the file aside and prepared for bed. I’d go over it thoroughly in the morning. Hopefully sleep would clear my head and I’d be able to think directly.

It was while I was brushing my teeth that it hit me.

I wiped around my mouth and returned to the file. Picking it up, I leafed through, counting pages. Forty-three, excluding photos, of which there were plenty.

I checked some of the entries. Many of the sheets were photocopies with dates going back to Tuesday, Monday, Sunday. Interviews had been conducted with friends and relations. A lot of man-hours had gone into this. The investigation seemed to have been launched early Saturday.

But Vincent hadn’t known the corpse’s identity. Nor had Dr. Sines. The official line was, nobody did. She’d died a Jane Doe and lain in the Fridge, unidentified, until I turned up.

So how the hell had this dossier been compiled?

Frank wanted to see me the next morning, so I made Party Central my first port of call. He was in his office, catching up on a frightening tower of paperwork. He signed his name to stray pieces of paper while we talked.

“Heard about your promotion,” he grunted. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“The Cardinal’s told me I’m to put myself at your beck and call.”

“Yeah?” I grinned. “Like a personal assistant?”

“Fuck you.”

I laughed and handed him a stack of papers.

“Any idea what it’s all about?” I asked. “Why he picked me and what he expects?”

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“He did and he didn’t. Said I should be setting my sights higher. Told me I was wasting my time where I was. I get the impression this is a test of some sort but I haven’t a clue what I’ll win if I pass.”

“The Cardinal’s a queer fish,” Frank said. “Sometimes he seems to do shit just for the fun of it. And maybe he does. Many think so. But I beg to differ. I don’t think he spits without evaluating every angle.”