Richard Kadrey - The Getaway God

He abruptly stops talking.

“Yes, sir. No, sir. I understand.”

He purses his lips as he fumbles the phone back into his coat. Waves his arm in my direction.

“Let him through, boys.”

His crew gets out of the way so I can roll the bike to the curb and heel down the kickstand.

Getting off, I say, “Your problem, Ishii, is that you like playing protector of the realm for the Augur because it gives you a power hard-on. But you really don’t respect the man. I mean, he peeks into the future. He probably knew exactly what you were going to do before you did. The only reason he waited this long to do anything about it is he wanted to give you a chance to pull your head out of your ass.”

Ishii looks at his watch, waves his people back to their posts. He doesn’t want to look at me.

“Stop talking, Stark. And go inside before my gun goes off by accident.”

“Have fun with the fishes, Noah.”

The door is open for me when I reach the hotel.

The outside of Blackburn’s house might be a wreck, but the inside is something else. The inner sanctum is a Victorian fever dream of potted palms, gaslights, silk settees, and arsenic-green walls. You half expect to see Dickens and Queen Victoria sipping laudanum in the living room. I know the layout, so I stroll through the place to the parlor, where Blackburn has his office.

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