Hell's Horizon tct-2 Page 4

  “No. Thanks.” I was dazed by the reception. It wasn’t what I’d been expecting. I pulled up a plastic chair and sat opposite The Cardinal. Out of habit my fingers strayed to my beret and I began to straighten it. The Cardinal watched, amused.

  “You can take it off if you want,” he said. “Never did like those damned berets. They were Mr. Tasso’s idea.”

  I smiled gratefully and removed it.

  The Cardinal wasn’t handsome. Nearly six and a half feet, though you couldn’t tell when he was sitting down. Too thin for such a big man. A crooked nose. Cropped hair. An Adam’s apple that looked like a golf ball stuck in the middle of his throat. Gray skin. A leering gap in his lower face for a mouth. His dress sense wasn’t the keenest either — a baggy blue tracksuit and sneakers. No jewelry. A cheap digital watch. If I dressed like that, I wouldn’t make it past the rear gate of Party Central.

  “Let’s get down to business,” he said. “You knew Nicola Hornyak?” I nodded. A file nestled snugly on his lap. I’d have loved to see what was in it. “Knew her long?”

  “About a month.”

  “You were screwing her?”

  “Yes,” I answered calmly, overlooking his bluntness.

  His eyes flicked down to the notes. “But you told Mr. Weld it wasn’t serious.”

  “We’d meet a few times a week, maybe have a drink or something to eat, head home or to a hotel. Nothing more than that.”

  “Hmm.” He studied his notes again. “You went out drinking together. I thought you were a teetotaler.”

  “I am. Nic ordered wine, I stuck to minerals.”

  “What about drugs?”

  “No.”

  “Neither of you?”

  “No.”

  “Nicola Hornyak never did drugs?”

  “Not with me.”

  Again the “Hmm.” Then he changed tack. “You’ve been with us quite a while. Respected by your superiors, admired by your colleagues. Brains. Talent. A hard worker. Haven’t made much headway, though, have you?”

  I shrugged, smiling uncertainly. “I get by.”

  “But you don’t move up. A man of your ability and experience should have been promoted by now. I know you’ve been approached, by both Mr. Tasso and Mr. Weld, but each time they’ve offered you more responsibility you’ve turned them down.”

  “I’m happy as I am.”

  “Or afraid to advance?”

  “I’ve seen what happens to those who slip while scaling the corporate ladder. Cleaned up after a few of them. Never seemed worth it to me.”

  “What if I handed you a promotion on a plate, if I said I was getting rid of Frank Weld and wanted you to take his place?”

  I stared at him.

  “I’m serious,” he said. “Not about getting rid of Mr. Weld — I have no intention of dismissing such a valued employee — but maybe moving him to some other branch of the organization, where he won’t clash with Mr. Tasso all the time. I’ve been working on a list of possible replacements. Would you care to be added to it?”

  “I couldn’t fill Frank’s shoes,” I mumbled. “I know nothing about management or leadership.”

  “Mr. Weld didn’t either when he started. Few men do. Leaders aren’t born — they grow.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I thought you wanted to talk about Nic. This is…” I searched in vain for the words.

  “I’ve had my eye on you for some time,” The Cardinal said.

  “On me?”

  “Did you never wonder why Mr. Tasso spent so much time on you when you joined the Troops? Why he took you under his wing?”

  “I thought he liked me.”

  The Cardinal laughed. “Mr. Tasso’s interests and friendships are mine. I asked him to keep an eye on you.”

  “Why?” I was dumbfounded.

  “Because I knew your father.”

  “Tom Jeery?” I gaped.

  He nodded. “A fine man. Someone I was able to rely upon. I thought if the son turned out to be half as valuable, he’d be a good man to have on the books.”

  “I barely knew my father,” I said. “He wasn’t around much when I was growing up. Disappeared for good when I was seven. I had no idea he was involved with you.”

  “He asked me not to mention it. Didn’t want his image tarnished.” The Cardinal turned over a sheet of paper. “Did you kill Nicola Hornyak?” he asked, as if still discussing old friends and family.

  “No!” I shouted, bewildered by his change of pace, momentarily losing my cool. “I wasn’t even here. I was out of town. On a—”

  “—Fishing trip. Yes. Mr. Weld told me. But that may have been a clever piece of subterfuge. It’s convenient that your girlfriend’s brutal murder coincided with your absence.”

  “I was with a friend,” I growled. “Bill Casey. He’ll vouch for me. He was with me the entire time. We even shared the same tent.”

  “I know.” The Cardinal smiled. “I just wanted to see how you react when riled. You can learn a lot about a man by the way he responds when subjected to slanderous accusations.”

  There was a knock on the door and Ford Tasso entered. “Algiers,” he greeted me. “Heard about the mess. How you holding up?”

  “Quite remarkably,” The Cardinal answered for me. “He takes loss firmly on the chin. Barely fazed by it.”

  “I’m fazed,” I said sourly. I didn’t like what he was doing. I hadn’t been especially close to Nic but I was hurting from what had happened. The Cardinal was acting like it was some big joke. That pissed me off.

  “Look at his face,” The Cardinal chortled. “He’d love to throttle me.”

  “Go easy on him,” Tasso said. “Finding a partner in the Fridge would have knocked the wind out of the most seasoned of us. Frank told me he didn’t even know she was missing.”

  “You two are back on speaking terms?”

  “For the time being.” Tasso joined The Cardinal on the other side of the desk and glanced at the notes in his employer’s lap. “The cops don’t know about Al,” he said. “Want us to keep him under wraps?”

  The Cardinal sniffed. “Makes no difference whether they know or not.”

  “How about you, Algiers? Want us to hush things up?”

  “Bill knew I was seeing her,” I said.

  “Bill?”

  “Bill Casey,” The Cardinal explained. “The pair were away fishing when the incident occurred.”

  “And he knows about you two?” Tasso frowned. “Then we can’t keep it to ourselves. Howard Kett’s handling the case.” Kett was Bill’s superior officer. Bill didn’t have much time for him — Kett was a grade-A prick — but would feel compelled to reveal information as important as this.

  Tasso and The Cardinal discussed other business for a couple of minutes, while I sat there like a stuffed squirrel. When their discussion came to an end, Tasso departed. He offered his condolences one final time and slipped out.

  “You weren’t listening, were you?” The Cardinal challenged me as soon as his right-hand man was out of earshot.

  “What?”

  “While I was chewing the cud with Mr. Tasso, I kept an eye on you. You tuned us out.” He tutted. “You shouldn’t be so courteous, Al. Have you any idea what certain people would pay to be where you are, to have been present while I was in congress with my number one aide? These are the types of opportunities one should seize, not turn one’s nose up at.”

  “I’m not interested in seizing,” I responded. “That’s why I’d be no good as a replacement for Frank. I’m not an organizer.”

  “A pity. I had high hopes for you. Your father was far more ambitious.”

  I shifted my chair a couple of inches closer to the desk. “What did my father do for you, exactly?”

  “Collected debts. Encouraged stubborn shopkeepers to see things my way. This was thirty, thirty-five years ago. We were still quite primitive back then.”

  “Do you know what happened to him?” I asked. “Why he vanished?”

&
nbsp; “Your mother never told you?”

  I shook my head. “She never spoke about my father. I think she was afraid of him. Whenever I asked, she said he was a bad man and I was to forget him. She died when I was a teenager, before I could make more mature inquiries.”

  “You never tried tracking him down?”

  “I asked about him but nobody knew anything. Bill did some checking for me but came up blank. I always assumed he ran off with another woman.”

  The Cardinal rose and crossed the room to the huge window that afforded him a bird’s-eye view of the city. He stood looking down in silence. I stared at his chair and waited for him to speak. I had a good idea what he was preparing himself to say.

  “Tom Jeery was killed in the line of duty.” He glanced over his shoulder to check how I’d taken that, noted my neutral expression and continued. “One of those stubborn shopkeepers pulled a knife on him. Cut deeper than he intended. Severed an artery.”

  “So he’s dead.” I’d thought, over the years, that he must be, but had always held out hope that one day he’d walk back into my life, even if it was just so I could deck him for cutting out on me and my mother.

  “Your mother knew,” The Cardinal said. “I informed her personally, as I did in those days, before I started delegating. A hard, cold woman, if you’ll allow me to say so. Kept her emotions to herself. Refused my offer of financial assistance. Wouldn’t even let me pay for a decent burial.”

  “Where was he buried?” I asked, head spinning.

  “He wasn’t.”

  “Then where…?” I winced. “The Fridge.”

  “He was one of the first occupants. You can retrieve the body if you wish to lay it to rest. I only held on to it because your mother showed no interest.”

  “After all these years, what would be the point?”

  The Cardinal smiled. “My thoughts exactly.” He beckoned me over to the window. “See those cranes off to the right?” I pressed against the glass and searched the horizon until I found the cranes in question. “That’s where they’re building the Manco Capac statue.”

  “The what?”

  “Manco Capac was an Incan god. After hundreds of years, somebody’s decided to raise an effigy of him. It’s going to be one of the most incredible monuments ever constructed. It will put this city on the architectural map. You must have heard about it — reporters have been discussing little else since it was commissioned.”

  “I don’t pay much attention to the news.”

  “No matter. I only pointed it out to show what a real mark of respect for the dead is like. Sticking people in the ground or running them through a furnace… I’d rather be jammed away in a dark corner of the Fridge or left outside to rot.

  “Come,” he said. “This conversation is veering toward morbidity. Tom Jeery has been dead far too long to shed any tears over. Let’s return to the corpse in question — Miss Hornyak. I don’t like it when people use my facilities for their own ends. Her murderer made a fatal mistake when choosing the Skylight.”

  He returned to his chair and picked up the file he’d been studying earlier. I took my seat again and concentrated on what he was saying. I’d think about my father later, on my own time.

  “Any idea who killed her?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “No enemies? Jealous ex-boyfriends? Business rivals?”

  “She wasn’t in business. She comes — came — from a wealthy family. Lived off inherited income. No enemies that I was aware of. Old boyfriends…” I shrugged. “She was beautiful. Rich. Exciting. Something of a tease. I guess there’s lots of disgruntled exes hanging around, but none that I’m aware of.”

  “How did you meet? Miss Hornyak was a woman of means. Elegant. Sought after. You’re not what I would consider a catch.”

  “We met at AA.”

  “She was an alcoholic?”

  “Not really. She didn’t talk much about it, but from what I picked up, her brother controlled the purse strings — her parents died when she was young, which was one of the things we had in common — and he felt she’d been drinking too heavily. He made her go. Threatened to cut her off if she didn’t.”

  “So you got talking, one thing led to another, you realized you were two of a kind…”

  “I wouldn’t say that. Nic was in a different class. I knew nothing would come of our fling. We just fell into each other’s lives for a while. It was a complication-free relationship — my favorite kind.”

  “Did you tell her what you did for a living?”

  “Sure.”

  “Before you started dating or after?”

  I thought back. “Before, I guess.”

  “You told her you were a Troop?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hmm. Ever consider the possibility that she was after more than sex?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  He tossed a large photograph across the table. It was of Nic’s carved back. There was a lot of blood, so it must have been taken in the Skylight or just after she’d been delivered to the Fridge. I didn’t touch it.

  “Not very pretty,” The Cardinal said. “You noted the design in the center?” I nodded. He fished something out of the file and threw it on top of the photograph. It was a golden brooch. I’d seen it on Nic a couple of times. At its center was a symbol of the sun.

  “Recognize it?”

  “Yes.”

  “She was wearing it the night of her murder. I don’t think it’s coincidence. Nicola Hornyak moved in dangerous circles. She became involved with men of violence. Perhaps she anticipated an attack of this nature. If so, would she not have sought protection? Found a strong boyfriend adept in the ways of death? A solider maybe… or a Troop?”

  “She never mentioned any of this to me. We spent very little time together. It’s possible…” But I wasn’t convinced.

  “I want to know who killed her,” The Cardinal said.

  “I do too,” I breathed softly.

  “Excellent!” he boomed, startling me. “That’s what I hoped to hear. When can you start?”

  “Start what?” I asked.

  “The investigation. I want you to track down her killer. Find him, kill him, bring me his bones to pick my teeth with.”

  “But I’m not a detective.”

  “You are now,” he grinned, eyes twinkling, “shamus.”

  I spent twenty minutes trying to convince him I was the wrong man for the job.

  “I know nothing about that line of work,” I insisted. “I’ve been trained as a guard, to function as part of a unit. I know about lines of fire and body searches, how to spot trouble and deal with it. I don’t know shit about trailing people, planting bugs or research.”

  “That’s irrelevant,” The Cardinal said. “I’ve had experts on the case since Saturday and they’ve uncovered nothing. You know the time frame for catching a murderer in circumstances such as these? Seventy-two hours. Three days to extrapolate from clues, interview witnesses and crack suspects. If you’ve turned up nothing by then, chances are you never will. That’s what my experts tell me.”

  “Then why set me on it? If the case is dead, what’s the point?”

  “A case never dies, Al. People die. Empires die. Never mysteries. I want to find Nicola Hornyak’s killer. It’s not a major thorn in my side but it irritates me. The experts had their crack at it. Now it’s time to do things another way.

  “Do you know what Frank Weld did before starting work for me?”

  “He was in the army.”

  “No. That’s a misleading rumor I circulated. He executed pigs.”

  I couldn’t prevent a skeptical smile.

  “I’m not bullshitting you. He worked in an abattoir. Put a stun gun to their heads and fried their brains. Lost his job when he was found interfering with the livestock.”

  “Get the fuck out of here,” I laughed.

  “All right,” The Cardinal smirked. “That last bit was a joke. But he did work in an abattoir. Before tha
t he worked in a fish factory. Before that he was a bouncer in a club. Before that he served nine years for killing a man in a brawl over a prostitute.”

  “Is this on the level?” I asked, sobering up.

  He nodded. “Not the stuff generals are generally made of, wouldn’t you say?”

  “So how’d he end up head of the Troops?” It was the question he’d been angling for.

  “You’re aware of my nocturnal informants?”

  “Sure.”

  The Cardinal had a personal herd of gossipmongers. They came every night from various sectors of the city, men and women with secrets to impart. What they told him and what he did with that information, only he could say.

  “Mr. Weld was one of them. He told me he’d caught his boss in the clutches of a young migrant worker. A juicy piece of trivia I’d normally have filed away and left to simmer. But there was something about Mr. Weld. Behind the shabby clothes, unkempt hair and bloodstained hands I saw a man of means struggling to emerge. So I took him into the fold, set my best groomers on him, and within months he was up and running.

  “I work on hunches. I place little faith in systems or rules. I build on people. It’s why I’ve flourished while so many others have fallen. The ability to see inside a man, to know what he’s capable of, even if he doesn’t know it himself… therein lies my secret.

  “Do you know what true power is? It’s the ability to manipulate other people and bend them to your way of thinking. To do that, you must first understand them. I understand people. I understand you. You don’t seek responsibility because you know what you could do with it. You’re afraid of who you could be. You don’t mind getting your hands dirty as long as you’re not making the decisions, because you believe that leaves your soul clean of blemish.”

  He paused a moment, allowing me time to challenge him. Shaking my head and lowering my gaze, I didn’t.

  “I’ve let you ride along anonymously. I haven’t pushed you or strewn obstacles in your path or pleaded with you to get off your lazy ass and disturb the world. I’m not usually so lenient but I figured it would be better to let you grow a pair of balls in your own good time.

  “You didn’t, and events have conspired against you, so time’s up. The days of blind obedience and moral carte blanche have come to an end. You have to show your true colors now. Put that brain of yours in gear. Contribute more than just footwork. If you can’t or won’t, I want nothing more to do with you. Take this case and prove yourself, or start looking for alternative employment.