Richard Kadrey - The Grand Dark

“I didn’t steal anything. When Branca gave me the job I was as surprised as anyone. I was even late this morning, for shit’s sake.”

Parvulesco grabbed Weimer’s flask, took a quick drink, and tossed it back to him. Weimer, whose right arm was a simple wood-and-steel prosthetic, fumbled with it in the air and finally dropped it. He claimed to have lost his real arm in the early days of the war, but no one believed him. When asked where he had served, he could never name the same company or regiment twice. Plus, he didn’t have a Red Eagle medal, something all wounded soldiers received. Worse, while drunk one night, Andrzej had told the others that someone else’s name was carved into the underside of the prosthetic, all but saying that Weimer had stolen it. It had been an amusing story at the time, but Largo had never trusted either of them since.

“König is going to kick the guts out of you when he gets back,” Andrzej said. “We’ve all seen you brown-nosing Branca. He’ll know you stabbed him in the back.”

“Like Weimer knows you told us about his arm?”

Weimer lowered the flask. “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing,” said Andrzej. Then to Largo, “Shut up.”

Largo wondered if this was why Branca had warned him that morning. The problem was that if he was attacked, he knew he couldn’t use the knife. It would be his word against Andrzej’s and he wasn’t sure how many of the other couriers would side with him against the bully. Besides, he had to admit that after today, more than ever, he was afraid for both his safety and his job. Still, Largo was pleased by the image of Andrzej on the business end of his brass knuckles, even if he knew that he couldn’t do anything but reflect the bastard’s arrogance back at him.

Luckily, he didn’t even have to do that.

“Fuck off, you loudmouth,” said Parvulesco. “You would have taken the job and laughed in König’s face when he got back. Besides, from what I hear, König won’t be coming back any time soon.”

“What do you mean?” said Weimer. “Where is he?”

“Yeah. Where?” said Andrzej.

Parvulesco dropped the butt of his cigarette and crushed it with his boot. “From what I hear, and unlike certain people who like to play at being tough, König has joined the army to fight the northern hordes.”

No one said anything at first. Then Andrzej made a disgusted face at Parvulesco. “You’re a liar and just as much Branca’s whore as Frau Moorden over there.”

Parvulesco lit another cigarette … and then casually flicked it so that it bounced off Andrzej’s cheek.

The big man screamed and danced back, batting at his face. Largo and the other couriers laughed. When Andrzej regained his composure, he charged at Parvulesco, who jumped and easily rolled onto the loading dock. Andrzej, on the other hand, had to rush up the stairs at the end of the dock—where he almost ran face-first into Herr Branca. Andrzej stopped just before crashing into him.

Branca said, “Enjoying the evening air, are we, Andrzej?”

He took a step back and his shoulders slumped. “Yes, sir. Just sharing a smoke and a chat with the boys.”

“Running with a cigarette can be bad for your health.” Branca looked farther down the loading dock. “Don’t you agree, Parvulesco?”

“Yes, sir,” he said. “Very much. I was about to point that out to the lads when things became a bit …”

“Boisterous?” said Branca.

“Yes, sir. Exactly. But you needn’t worry about that. We were all headed home. Isn’t that right, boys?”

There was general agreement among the couriers that they were, in fact, all heading home at that exact moment.

“Then I wish you all a good evening and expect to see you all here bright and early tomorrow. I’m led to believe that it will be a busy day.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m sure we’re looking forward to it,” Parvulesco said.

Branca turned his head downward. “And you, Andrzej? Are you looking forward to a busy day’s work?”

The big man smiled up at his supervisor. “Very much. Busy is always better than bored. Right, sir?”

“And employed is better than unemployed,” said Branca. “Good evening, gentlemen. Have safe journeys home.”

The group broke up without another word.

Parvulesco and Largo rode out through the employee gate together. Largo got close to his friend and said, “Where did you hear that König had joined the army?”

Parvulesco looked at him in shock. “I just made it up. Do you know where he really is?”

Largo looked straight ahead, shaking his head slightly. “I shouldn’t say. It’s too dangerous.”

Parvulesco veered his bicycle closer and spoke in a mock-conspiratorial tone. “Come on. You can’t say something like that and leave me to wonder forever. Give me a hint.”

“I can’t.”

“Look, if it’s dangerous, shouldn’t you share at least some of the information with a friend?”

Largo looked at him. “You’re trying to make me feel guilty.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

They rode on in silence for a few more minutes as Largo considered what Parvulesco had said. He wondered if he didn’t owe his friend, who’d just stood up for him, some special consideration. Looking straight ahead at the road, Largo said, “König was taken away by a pair of black birds.”

For a moment, Parvulesco looked as if he didn’t believe him. “The Nachtvogel? You’re not serious, are you?”

“Believe what you like,” Largo said. “But you didn’t hear anything from me on the matter.”

Parvulesco looked at him gravely. “Shit. Do you think that means they’ll be watching the rest of us?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” said Largo. “And thank you for standing up for me back there.”

Parvulesco smiled. “Any day I can goad that walking pile of boars’ balls is a good one.”

Largo laughed and Parvulesco said, “I won’t whisper a word of what you told me to anyone.”

“Thank you.”

Parvulesco looked thoughtful. “To change the subject to something a bit happier, you know that with your promotion you have a good chance to make some extra money.”

“You mean the tips? I know. Isn’t it great?”

“I’m not talking about that,” said Parvulesco. “König said there were other ways, but the prick would never say what. So keep your eyes open for money falling from the sky.”

Largo was intrigued by the idea, but annoyed at König for keeping the secret to himself. “He didn’t give any hints about how or what to look for?”

“Not a one.”

Something occurred to him. “How do you know about it? Did everybody know about it but me?”

Parvulesco let go of the handlebars and rode that way for a few minutes. “I’m probably the only one. I caught him with a pretty prostitute by the girlie cinema near the docks. That’s when he told me and gave me a few coins to keep my mouth shut.”

König wasting his extra money on prostitutes struck Largo as the height of stupidity. There were so many better things to spend your money on, he thought. Like Remy . “I’ll be sure to be on the lookout for opportunities.”

“Good. And when you find one, you’ll owe me a beer.”

“Done.” They slowed when they reached a fork in the road. As Largo steered away, he shouted, “Good night. And thanks!”

Parvulesco veered off in the opposite direction, calling, “Say hello to Remy for me.”

“And hello to Roland for me,” Largo replied.

With the image of Remy’s face in his head, Largo rode to his dismal flat in record time.

He lived in a third-floor walk-up in the Rauschgift district, more commonly known as Little Shambles. While his building was superficially cleaner than the one he’d entered in Haxan Green, the stairs and halls nevertheless reeked of cooking fat and rotting vegetables. Layers of wallpaper flaked from the walls, revealing generations of decorations, like geological layers. Red and white peppermint stripes lay atop a beige pattern of waterfowl, which revealed flocked turquoise squares. Largo’s flat was at the end of the hall near the shared bathroom, which was both a blessing and a curse. If he was careful, he could be first to wash and shave in the morning, but it meant that he had to listen to everyone else on the floor groan with dawn hangovers and curse the lack of hot water.