I headed for the toilets at the back of the bar. Without making a big thing of it, people moved slowly but deliberately out of my way. Partly because of my carefully maintained reputation, but mostly because bad things had a habit of happening to and around me, and wise people kept a safe distance. I pushed open the door with the stylised male genitals painted on it, and headed for the row of stalls. I’ve never been one for urinals. Far too easy to be ambushed. I took a quick glance around me, breathing through my mouth to avoid the worst of the smell, but it seemed I had the place to myself. The small, dimly lit stone chamber looked as disgusting as ever. I don’t think Alex ever cleans the place; he just fumigates it now and again with a flamethrower. The bare stone walls dripped with condensation, and the floor was wet with a whole bunch of liquids that had nothing to do with condensation. The graffiti hadn’t improved either. Someone had daubed the Yellow Sign on one wall, and beside it someone had painted Gods do it in mysterious ways. Next to the row of stalls, someone else had written For a good time, knock on any door.
I entered the first stall, and locked the door securely behind me. I then unzipped and attended to business, letting out a long sigh of relief. First rule of the private eye—always go when you can, because you never know when you might have to stand stakeout. On the wall above the toilet, someone had written What are you looking up here for? Ashamed? I smiled, shook off the last few drops and put it away, then stood very still. I hadn’t heard or seen anything, but somehow I knew I wasn’t alone in the stall any more. In the Nightside, you either develop survival instincts fast, or you don’t develop past childhood. I started to reach for one of the little surprises I keep in my coat pockets for occasions like this, then stopped as something small and hard pressed into my back, directly above the kidney.
“There’s something small and hard pressing into my back,” I said. “And I’m really hoping it’s a gun.”
“Heh-heh-heh,” said a soft breathy voice behind me. “I can always rely on you for a little quip, Mr. Taylor. Helps the business go down so much more smoothly. Yes, it is a gun, and quite a special gun, I’ll have you know. An energy pistol from some cyborg’s future that I acquired just for this occasion. Heh-heh. So don’t even try your little trick of removing the bullets from my gun. Because it hasn’t got any.”
“Sneaky Pete,” I said, grimacing. “Bounty hunter, sneak thief, and all-around scumbag. How did you get past that locked door?”
“I didn’t, Mr. Taylor. I was already hiding in the next stall. Heh-heh. Sneaked over the partition while you were… occupied. Heh. You know no-one ever sees me coming, Mr. Taylor. I have trained with ninjas. I am a thing of mists and shadows.”
“You’re a sneaky little bastard,” I said firmly. “And lower than a worm’s tit. What do you want with me, Pete?”
“Why, you of course, Mr. Taylor. There is an awful lot of money being offered for your head, not necessarily attached to your body, and I mean to collect it. Oh yes. Now, we can either walk out of here together, nice and easy with not a word to your companions, to where I have transport waiting… or I can carry you out. Or at least, part of you. Heh-heh. Your choice, Mr. Taylor.”
“You mind if I flush first?” I said.
“Always ready with a cheerful quip! I do so enjoy doing business with a fellow professional. Makes it all so much more civilised. Heh-heh. Be my guest, Mr. Taylor. But carefully, yes?”
I leaned forward slowly and flushed the toilet. And while Sneaky Pete’s attention was fixed on what I was doing with my hands, I fired up the spell I normally use for taking bullets out of guns, took all of the water flushing through the toilet and dumped the lot of it in Sneaky Pete’s lungs. The thing pressing into my back disappeared abruptly as he fell backwards, making horrible gurgling noises. I spun round, ready to grab the energy gun, but his hands were empty. There never had been a gun, just a finger poking me in the back. Sneaky Pete. He sat down on the floor abruptly, water spilling out of his mouth, scrabbling frantically with his empty hands. I considered him for a moment. Bounty hunter. Sneak thief. Peeping Tom and blackmailer. He might not have killed me himself, but he would have handed me over to be killed without a second thought… I sighed, placed my foot against his chest and pushed hard. Water gushed out of him, and after a series of really nasty choking noises, he started breathing again.
I let him live. I didn’t like to think I was getting soft, but… maybe I needed to convince myself that I wasn’t my mother’s son.
I left the toilets and returned to the bar. I gave Alex Morrisey my best hard look. “I just had a run-in with Sneaky Pete in the toilet, and not in a good way. Is there perhaps something you haven’t got around to telling me yet?”
“Ah,” said Alex. “Yes, there’s been a whole lot of bounty hunters in and out of here recently. Apparently the rich and very well connected families of the thirteen Reasonable Men you killed, for perfectly good reasons I’m sure, have got together and placed a truly impressive bounty on your head.”
“How much?” said Suzie. I looked at her, and she shrugged. “Sorry. Force of habit.”
I was about to say something sharp when fortunately my mobile phone rang. I answered it with my usual “What?”
“Taylor,” said Walker, in his smooth and very civilised voice. “So glad you’ve returned safely from your little trip into the Past.”
“Walker,” I said. “Word does get around fast, doesn’t it? I didn’t think you knew my private number.”
“I know everyone’s number. Comes with the job.”
“I am not going to come in and give myself up to you and the Authorities. I have important things to do.”
“Oh, I think you will, Taylor.”
There was something in his voice… “What have you done, Walker?”
“Only what you have forced me to do, to get your attention. I have reluctantly given the order for your delightful young secretary Cathy Barrett to be kidnapped. By now she will be in safe hands, being held somewhere very secure. Turn yourself in peacefully, and you have my word that she will be freed unharmed. But if you insist on making life difficult for me by continuing to defy me in this manner… Well, I’m afraid I can’t answer for the young lady’s continued well-being.”
“You bastard.”
“I only do what I have to, John. You know that.”
“If anything happens to Cathy…”
“That’s entirely up to you, isn’t it? I regret to inform you that the people entrusted with this kidnapping bear you a considerable amount of ill will. The longer you take to come to a decision, the more likely it is they’ll vent their spleen on her. And much as I might regret that… the situation is out of my hands. I have my orders, and my duty. Whatever happens…”
I hung up on him. He had nothing else to say worth listening to. He was only keeping the conversation going in the hope his people would be able to track my location through my phone. I explained the situation to Suzie and Alex.
“I can’t turn myself in,” I said. “I have to be free to operate if I’m going to stop Lilith. The whole Nightside’s at risk, and maybe the world, too. But I won’t, I can’t, abandon Cathy.”
“Of course not,” said Suzie. “She’s your secretary.”
“Your friend,” said Alex.
“My daughter,” I said. “In every way that matters.”
“Then we must go and get her,” said Suzie. “We can’t give in to threats like this. If people thought we could be pressured into doing things, they’d take advantage. So go on, Taylor. Do your thing.”
I raised my gift, my single supernatural inheritance from my inhuman mother, and opened up my Sight. And through my third eye, my private eye, I looked out over the Nightside, searching for Cathy. I can find anyone, or anything, if I look hard enough. I don’t like to use my gift too often, because when I do I blaze so brightly in the dark that I am easy to see. And then my Enemies send agents to kill me. But for the moment, I was too mad to care.