Anne Billson - Suckers

This was the trump I'd been holding in reserve, but now I was hoping like mad we were still playing the same game, that the cards hadn't been shuffled and dealt out in a different order while I hadn't been looking. As the words left my mouth, I began to have doubts. What if they'd never heard of her? What if we'd been wrong, and she hadn't come back after all? What if they were so hungry they didn't care?

But it did the trick. It was as though my arm had suddenly turned white-hot. Ex-Lardo dropped it and stared, blinking stupidly. There was a hush, broken by a disgruntled muttering.

'Rose Murasaki?'

'Who's Violet?'

'You mean you don't know?'

'Murasaki.'

'Better not touch.'

'Rose'll go mad.'

Three of them still had me in their grip, and though they weren't tugging any more, they showed no signs of wanting to let me go. Nobody was quite sure what to do. I avoided looking at any of them directly; I didn't want them to see I was bluffing. Instead, I stared at the floor, concentrating on the footwear — an assortment of brogues, winkle-pickers, cha-cha heels, and satin slippers, patent or suede, but all of them, every last blasted shoe, in black and black and black.

Then, without warning, I felt myself released. I saw the feet shuffle and regroup, making way for other feet which were coming my way. They advanced without the slightest hint of urgency, and it was by his feet that I recognized him, even though the boots had changed. They were a peculiar, pock-marked hide, cut wide and handsome like cowboy boots and stacked up on chunky dirt-digging heels which had been worn down so far on the inside edge that he rolled as he walked, a bit like a landlocked sailor. In any other circumstances, I would have feared for my life. But I was fearing for my life already. And at least these boots weren't black.

I looked up.

'Well, look who's here,' said Grauman. He wasn't smiling.

I asked him what had happened to the snakeskin. 'I am going through an ostrich phase,' he said, looking round. 'I was told there was a disturbance in the farmyard. I had no idea it would be you.' He sighed. 'You had better come along with me, before these people force you to provide them with the next round of drinks.' I tucked in right behind him as he retraced his steps. The vampires fell back, but gracelessly. He had spoiled their fun and they resented his presence. Some of them grumbled rebelliously, but none dared touch.

It was only when we were well out of earshot, when he'd got me outside and had grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me halfway across the road to the Multiglom Tower, that he dipped his head and hissed into my ear, 'This time, you little bitch, I will see you boiled in oil before I let you make a fool out of me.'

I'd gained time, at least, and I didn't really think I was going to be boiled in oil. The death of a thousand cuts, perhaps, or my spine snapped in a dozen different places, but I couldn't see him resorting to the oil option because it would have been over far too quickly.

We went straight into the Multiglom Tower, and no one lifted a finger to stop us, neither the neo-Nazi guards nor any of the other figures that were flitting around.

'You wanted to get to see Violet,' said Grauman, as the revolving doors propelled us smoothly into the white marble reception. 'You did, didn't you? Well, you will get to see her now.'

He leaned against the wall of the elevator and looked me up and down. 'Dora Rosamond Vale. Just what do you think you are playing at?'

We were going down — a long way down. Multiglom Tower had hidden depths, like an iceberg. I checked my watch and saw it was a quarter to nine. 'I have an appointment in fifteen minutes.'

'With Murasaki?' For a few seconds there, I thought I'd caught him off guard. 'But of course you know about Murasaki.'

'Of course,' I said. 'It's obvious. Murasaki is the Japanese word for purple .'

If Grauman was impressed by this demonstration of arcane learning, he showed no sign of it. 'Your watch has stopped,' he said. 'It is now nearly ten o'clock.' He paused, then added, 'And what makes you think she won't drain your veins as soon as she sets eyes on you?'

'Perhaps she will, but I was hoping to play it by ear.'

For the first time he allowed himself to look faintly amused, but I didn't flatter myself it was anything I'd said. More likely he was imagining how I'd look with my veins drained. 'So you dress up like a Halloween witch? You think you will disarm her like that?'

'Well, they fell for it.'

'Sure they did. Oh yes, it certainly looked that way when I arrived.'

'They did — until someone saw my reflection in the mirror.'

He chuckled. 'Mirrors! Damned mirrors! We all see things in them that we do not want to see.'

Speak for yourself, I thought, but I didn't dare say it out loud. The thirteen years had left their mark on him. I guessed he would be in his mid-forties, but his hair was the same old straw colour, and now I was certain it was bleached. It was tied back in a ponytail, and he was wearing a scuffed leather picket instead of the Turkish bazaar number, and straight jeans instead of flares, but there was still something about him which made my flesh crawl.

I asked him whether he was taking me to see Violet. 'If you like.' He shrugged, then put his head on one side and regarded me thoughtfully. 'So you are here as a delegate of Duncan Fender?'

'Not at all. I'm an independent operator.'

He nodded sceptically. 'I would very much like to believe that, but I have learned from experience that I must take everything you say with a pinch of salt.'

The lift stopped and we stepped out into a concrete-lined room upholstered with cream-coloured leather. 'Please take a seat,' Grauman said, and vanished through a door to his left.

I took a seat; there wasn't much else to do. Nothing to look at: no windows, no pictures, no magazines. I was in Multiglom Tower all right, and I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to find my way out again. I felt as though we'd journeyed to the centre of the earth. The subterranean silence was oppressive, broken only by the creaking of leather whenever I adjusted my position. This was often, because I was still suffering from headaches and stomach cramps. I wished I'd remembered to bring some Paracetamol.

After a few minutes, Grauman reappeared and sat next to me, spreading his knees, the way men do, so that one of his legs was nestling uncomfortably close to my thigh. I tried to wriggle away, but space was limited and I didn't want to show I'd noticed his proximity and was made uncomfortable by it. I hadn't been looking forward to seeing him again, not after what I'd done, but now he was here, it was almost like meeting up with an old friend — an old friend whom you intensely disliked and distrusted, who you knew had every reason to want you dead — or worse.

'Show me your hand,' he said.

My head was still dancing with playing card metaphors, and I didn't respond, so he reached out and took my wrist, wrinkling his nose as he stripped the soggy glove off in a single rapid movement and let it drop to the floor. He lifted my hand the way you might lift a dead animal, and held it up in front of his face, scrutinizing it with interest over the top of his spectacles. He seemed particularly intrigued by the missing joint.

'Well,' he said eventually, 'what a mess you have made,' and he smiled a thin-lipped smile and deliberately jammed his thumb into the palm. I yelped with pain and tried to snatch it away, but he merely tightened his grip.

He glanced sideways at me. 'So, Miss Vale. Which finger would you like me to break first?'

I stared at him aghast. He grinned wolfishly, and I saw the past thirteen years had not been kind to the teeth he had worried about so much. 'Just kidding,' he cackled. 'I like to have fun with you, Dora. I know you have a very peculiar sense of humour. Just like me.' And he carefully replaced the hand in my lap, back where he'd found it. 'I should have that attended to, if I were you. The smell of the blood is very strong, and the streets are full of sharks.'