"A big waste of our time and for nada." I was still hungry and eyed what was left on Niko's plate. Nah, I wasn't that hungry. Then I had an idea … it happened occasionally…and it wasn't from any antioxidant crap making my brain cells sit up and take notice either.
"Hey, I know a guy." I leaned back in my chair. "Ham. He comes into the bar sometimes and plays the sax. Just for kicks. He doesn't get paid or anything, but he's damn good. He says he plays the subways and streets too. Not that he needs to from the looks of him. Wears some pretty flashy clothes."
"And if he plays the subways and the streets, he may be familiar with some of the homeless." Promise gave a nod of approval, wrapping a string of dusk-colored pearls around a finger.
"If he's amenable to helping us. Not too many are." He was right. A human and a half Auphe weren't going to ever win any popularity contests. "What exactly is he?" Niko asked.
I frowned. "I don't have a clue. He looks human. Doesn't smell human, but he seems okay. Drinks whiskey, plays the sax, has a thing for pretty women, especially vampires…seems fairly laid-back to me." And considering what I'd done to a few customers that had pissed me off, that was saying something, not to mention my automatic suspicion of anyone I first met. "I don't know how the hell we'd get in touch with him, though. He comes and goes at the bar. Sometimes I won't see him for weeks. There's no predicting it."
"Perhaps Ishiah knows his last name," Niko suggested.
Nonhumans didn't have last names or if they did I hadn't run into one. "You're kidding. And so what if he did?"
Nik shook his head. "One idea and your brain shuts down for the day. It is a pity." He went on to explain, "If he is that good a sax player, he probably plays at clubs as well. And if he plays at clubs, I imagine he'd want to be available for gigs." He gave that faint smile of his. "In other words, he'd be in the book."
Jeez, the phone book. Maybe there was something to that carrot-cranberry juice after all. "I'll give Ish a call."
Luckily he was at the bar, and he did know Ham's last name. I didn't need any brain cells at all to think it was maybe more than coincidence. "Piper," I said after shutting off the phone. "Now, I know I'm no genius, Einstein." I gave Niko a mock glare. "But even I can guess that one."
"The Pied Piper of Hamelin." Niko stood and began to clear his dishes. "If nothing else, this should be interesting."
Ham was in the book and home when I called. He remembered me fine and said in a deep, mellow voice to come on over. If I worked for Ishiah, then I was good in his book. He gave me the address: Park Slope in Brooklyn. I winced, knowing we had a transfer at Fifty-third Street and a ride on the F train to look forward to.
When we arrived, he opened the door and immediately gave a blinding smile … to Promise. Niko and I were waved in absently. "If I'd known you were bringing such a fine lady with you," he said cheerfully, "I'd have cleaned up some."
The place wasn't that messy. There were a few instruments lying around, two saxes and a guitar, and a couple of flashy suit jackets tossed over a chair and the couch. Dark red, bright blue, and the most subtle one, brown with finger-width neon yellow stripes. I looked away before my retinas were burned out of my eyes and took a look at the rest of the place. It was a loft, bigger than a musician should've been able to afford, and painted…never mind how it was painted. It made the suits look like pastels in comparison.
"Pull up a cushion." He tossed one jacket to join the others, his eyes still on Promise. He was a tall, thin black man with unusually pale brown eyes. He kept his hair in short dreds and was dressed casually in a shirt patterned in a mixture of black and dark green and black pants. It was nice to give my eyes a break from the rest of the place and I kept them on him.
"Hey, Ham, thanks for talking to us."
He patted the couch for Promise, giving her another wide smile before turning to Nik and me. "No problem. Like I said, if Ishiah lets you work in the Circle, then you're good by me. He's not one for slackers or troublemakers."
Unless you happened to be a friend of Robin's, because I fell in both of those categories. But I kept my mouth shut on that and got to the point. "There's this thing in town." It damn sure didn't qualify as anything else. "A Redcap. Sawney Beane. He's been killing some people and we'd like to chat the bastard up." Chat with a sword, a gun, a cannon…whatever it took.
"With his history, 'some people' will soon become many people and we'd like to stop that before it happens," Niko added.
It was a tricky subject. There were monsters and then there were nonhumans. Monsters ate people and nonhumans didn't—they just lived their lives. There were crossovers sometimes. A wolf could be either or. I knew both kinds. Some others qualified as well. No matter what Promise said about vamps and their vitamins, you couldn't tell me there wasn't the occasional rogue out there bleeding people for all they were worth. But the tricky part was that some nonhumans had a policy of keeping their mouths shut. The way they saw it, they weren't going to get between a monster and his meal. That was dangerous, maybe deadly, and not their job.
It was ours, though.
The smile faded as he sat down beside Promise, slinging a casual arm on the top of the couch behind her. Great. Another Goodfellow. I didn't check to see if Niko was jealous. If he was, he wouldn't show it anyway, but I doubted he was. He trusted Promise, five dead husbands aside. And if he trusted her, then she deserved it. Niko didn't often make mistakes when it came to trust. "Sawney Beane. I heard that son of a bitch was dead a long time ago."
"He was. He's back. And if you do not remove that arm, I will. Permanently," Promise said coolly.
It wasn't the type of thing to build up goodwill and useful conversation, but I didn't much blame her. Ham only flashed a smile and pulled the arm back. "No harm in trying. Didn't know one of these pups was yours." No harm, no foul. If he was the Pied Piper, we were pups to him. "That'd be the only thing that'd have you resisting my skills."
"Yes, of course that's the reason," she said dryly.
Niko steered the subject back. "We were thinking that soon enough Sawney will begin to prey on the homeless. They're more vulnerable in that they'll be less likely to be missed. He was burned at the stake once. I doubt he'll want to risk getting caught again."
"We thought you might know a few of the guys from the subways and the streets. All kinds of people hang around to hear you play at the bar. I figured it wouldn't be much different on the streets."
"Yeah, people have always lined up to hear me play." The smile was more sly than friendly now. "And for professional jobs I always get paid. One way or another."
Such as having children follow his piping out of a town some six or seven hundred years ago when he got stiffed on a job he'd done on their rat problem. But he did give the kids back once he got paid. So the story went at least. That kept him off the monster list. Barely.
"But, yeah, I know some guys and those guys know some guys. Some of them are cool enough— for humans. Just fell on hard times." His smile disappeared this time. "And if they have a nickel, hell, even a quarter, they always toss it in my case. Good guys who appreciate a little entertainment." He drummed long fingers on his knee. "Let me ask around. See what I can find out. These guys do come and go, so it may take me a few days, maybe more. Disappearing for a while isn't so unusual for them and Sawney's not the only one who thinks they're easy prey."
That was true enough. I'd seen the Kin try to take an entire busload of them once. That took balls. Furry ones, but balls all the same. Yeah, the homeless were easy prey all right, but if Sawney was still shopping around for his new "cave," he might not be as careful about not taking a lot from one place. Most monsters know better than to hunt in their own backyard. Sawney would too, but if he was still hunting around for a place, he might not be so cautious. I doubted he'd settle on the first one he found. It'd have to be just right. Deep, hidden, safe to eat your human pork chops. You know what they say: It's all about location, location, location.