‘Of course you do. The one with the keys to Uncle Pat’s house. He’s a regular little monkey.’
‘Oh,’ said Loafers. ‘That brother.’
Loafers and Carla took the limo out to the East Side. Loafers was still in awe of the sheer size of American buildings. In Kilkenny there was nothing over five storeys, and Loafers himself had lived all his life in a suburban bungalow. Not that he would ever admit that to his Mob friends. For their benefit he had reinvented himself as an orphan, who spent his youth in and out of various remand homes.
‘Who’s the monkey?’ he asked.
Carla Frazetti was fixing her jet-black hair in a compact mirror. It was short and slicked back.
‘A new guy. Mo Digence. He’s Irish, like you. It makes things very convenient. No visas, no papers, no elaborate cover story. Just two short guys home for the holidays.’
Loafers bristled.
‘What do you mean two short guys?’
Carla snapped the compact shut.
‘Who are you talking to, McGuire? Because you couldn’t be talking to me. Not in that tone.’
Loafers paled, his life flashing before him.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Frazetti. It’s just the short thing. I’ve been listening to it my whole life.’
‘What do you want people to call you? Lofty? You’re short, Loafers. Get over it. That’s what gives you your edge. My godfather always says there’s nothing more dangerous than a short guy with something to prove. That’s why you’ve got a job.’
‘I suppose.’
Carla patted him on the shoulder.
‘Cheer up, Loafers. Compared to this guy, you’re a regular giant.’
Loafers perked up considerably. ‘Really? Just how short is Mo Digence?’
‘He’s short,’ said Carla. ‘I don’t know the exact centimetres, but any shorter and I’d be changing his diaper and stuffing him in a stroller.’
Loafers grinned. He was going to enjoy this job.
THE MONKEY
Mo Digence had seen better days. Less than four months ago he had been living it up in a Los Angeles penthouse with over a million dollars in the bank. But now his funds had been frozen by the Criminal Assets Bureau and he was working for the Chicago Mob on a commission basis. Spatz Antonelli was not known for the generosity of his commissions. Of course, Mo could always leave Chicago and go back to LA, but there was a police task force there with his name on it, just waiting for him to return to the scene of the crime. In fact, there was no safe haven for Mo above ground or below it, because Mo Digence was actually Mulch Diggums, kleptomaniac dwarf and fugitive from the LEP.
Mulch was a tunnel dwarf, who decided that a life in the mines was not for him and put his mining talents to another use: namely, relieving Mud People of their valuables and selling them on the fairy black market. Of course, entering another’s dwelling without permission meant forfeiting your magic, but Mulch didn’t care. Dwarfs didn’t have much power anyway, and casting spells had always made him nauseous.
Dwarfs have several physical features that make them ideal burglars. They can dislocate their jaws, ingesting several kilos of soil a second. It is stripped of any beneficial minerals, then ejected at the other end. They have also developed the ability to drink through their pores, an attribute that can be very handy during cave-ins. It also transforms the pores into living suction cups, a convenient tool in any burglar’s arsenal. Finally, dwarf hair is actually a network of living antennae, similar to feline whiskers, which can do everything from trap beetles to bounce sonar waves off a tunnel wall.
Mulch had been a rising star in the fairy underworld – until Commander Julius Root got hold of his file. Since then, he had spent over three hundred years in and out of prison. He was currently on the run for stealing several gold bars from the Holly Short ransom fund. There was no safe haven below ground any more, even among his own kind. So Mulch was forced to pass himself off as human, and take whatever work he could get from the Chicago Mob.
There were hazards associated with impersonating a human. Of course, his size drew attention from everyone who happened to glance downwards. But Mulch quickly discovered that Mud People could find a reason to distrust almost anyone. Height, weight, skin colour, religion. It was almost safer to be different in some way.