‘Not this way.’ He’s sweating, though not with the stench of fear. Some of that may have been the journey; we moved fast and he is still a young child. Some of it is excitement, and I lean against the girl, willing her to be careful. Willing her to remember those burn marks and the strange, acrid odor that even now clings to his skin.
Before I can act, however, he moves. Taking Care’s hand, he darts into the street, leaving me exposed. Perhaps he hasn’t seen me. Someone has, though. I hear a quick intake of breath and I flatten out, ears back and teeth bared. He’s leading Care across the pavement, and so I dash after them, passing them just as a truck rolls by. For a moment, I lose them. I hear the gasps as I pull myself up on the curb. They have taken a less direct crossing, I see. The boy has led her to a corner. Another alley, I assume.
‘There they are.’ Tick is talking, hanging back as Care appraises the situation. Making myself as small as I can, I peer around the building, expecting that brute or another of his ilk. These back ways are seldom left unguarded.
What I see surprises me. The man looks like several we have passed on our way. His clothing is clean and his jacket shines like that gaudy diamond sign, although it cannot camouflage the belly that age and success have bestowed upon him. Not that the young woman whose cigarette he is lighting cares. She lifts one leg, brushing her foot against her own calf in a signal that transcends species. In response, he raises a hand to her cheek, the glitter of his rings obscuring her dulled eye.
The scene is common. Private, and not what Care expected. I can see on her face that she doubts Tick’s information, if not his judgment. This is the kind of man who runs off children like these, I know from some deep memory. If, that is, he sees them at all.
‘Wait, is that—’ Care pauses. I can almost feel her searching for the right word. ‘That’s who you’re supposed to report to?’
The boy nods enthusiastically. He’s done this before. Been paid well, too, or in some manner to his liking. Even as he’s brushing back his bangs – they’ve grown too long, giving him an almost girlish appearance – he’s contradicting himself. ‘Well, not him, or not directly. But he’s the one. They answer to him.’
I sit and prepare myself for the wait, confident that Care will do the same. We may need our strength yet for another dash. Another escape. Clearly, one of the ruffians acts as an intermediary. One or all of them – maybe the brute I recognized – will show soon. But we may have time. Care, Tick – unless they put themselves underfoot, that well-dressed man won’t even see them. Which, I realize with the beginning of a purr, is why they are useful. It is why the boy has been recruited.
‘What’s going on, Tick?’ There’s a tightness in Care’s tone. She is not resting. Not relaxed. ‘Tell me the truth now.’
‘I have.’ The boy’s voice rises, although I am happy to see that the burgher has not noticed. He’s too focused on his companion. Making his pitch, I gather, before his business associates arrive.
‘We’ve got to get out of here, Tick.’ She’s grabbed his shoulder. She’s pulling him toward her and I look up at her. She’s gone pale in a way that the neighborhood, the city, doesn’t explain. She starts to back away.
‘Care, wait.’ He’s as confused as I am, and I hear no guile in his complaint. ‘It’s OK. They can’t see us.’
‘It’s not that.’ She turns and walks quickly, head down. ‘We’ve got to— You don’t know.’
‘What?’ He stumbles as he turns and tags after her. She’s leaning into the walls now, hurrying as I do, from shadow to shadow. ‘What is it?’
He catches her when she pauses at the entrance to another alley, three blocks down. There’s a dumpster here and she ducks behind it, only then pausing to lean back on the brick wall and breathe.
‘You don’t know, do you?’ She looks at him, her color returning to normal.
I’m intrigued by the dumpster. It smells of coffee and the rubbish of the wealthy, discarded, half eaten and full of meat. But I smell poison, as well, and the bin is too silent for hunting.
The boy, meanwhile, is shaking his head, his upturned face a mask of confusion.
‘That fat guy in the suit?’ Care says. ‘That’s Diamond Jim. He’s the one who hired the old man. Hired him and got him killed.’
TEN
‘I swear, I didn’t know.’ Time has passed and Care is still grilling him. ‘All I know is that’s the place. Diamond Jim’s. AD said to go around the back.’