“Or mine,” said Hadleigh. “My work here is done. Thanks to you, John.”
And he looked meaningfully at me. I knew what he meant, and swore under my breath. In the past I would have contacted Walker, and he would have arranged care and comfort for these people. He might also have killed a few if he thought they needed killing ... But there wasn’t any Walker any more, thanks to me. Which meant ... it was up to me to do something. Because there wasn’t anyone else. The world has a way of arranging what it wants, and to hell with what we want. I’d have to take up Walker’s old position, for a while, because I didn’t have it in me to turn my back on people who needed help. That was why I’d become a private investigator in the first place, after all. Because there’d been no-one there to help me, when I needed it.
I’d take the position. Only until the Authorities could find someone better suited.
“I’ll phone Julien Advent,” I said. “Have the new Authorities send some people down here.”
“Where’s Walker?” said Larry. “Why isn’t he here?”
“Walker has gone to the Devil,” I said.
EPILOGUE
When I finally got home, Suzie was in the kitchen, scrubbing blood and gristle off one of her gutting knives. She was supposed to be bringing them in alive these days, but old habits die hard. I came up behind her and gave her a hug, and she leaned comfortably back against me.
“I may have a new job,” I said. “Though with any luck, I’ll fail the interview. How was your day?”
“The usual,” said Suzie. “I’m out of shotgun shells again. Oh, and there’s some post for you. I put it in the living room.”
I went through into the next room—and there on the table was a long sword-shaped parcel.