The room adjoining the bathroom was undecorated, almost warehouse-like in its barrenness. A small, hard bed hugged one wall, covered with a plain blue blanket. A cold TV sat on the floor opposite. Its blank screen watched her like an unblinking eye as she crossed to the window and looked out at the city. She’d never spent much time down here, so close to where Downside gave way to the Metro District. Farther beyond that the suburbs glinted like fool’s gold as the hills rose to the misty darkening sky.
She assumed it was Sunday evening—Jarkman had said “Seven” through the door, and it clearly wasn’t getting any lighter. Which meant she’d missed going out to Chester with Terrible that afternoon, which was not good. He’d be looking for her. All of Bump’s men would be looking for her. Being found here would probably be the last thing she ever did.
Chess didn’t have any specific loyalty to Bump aside from his dominance in her neighborhood, at least not when it came to buying her drugs. But given the investigations she’d just been extorted into doing for him, the inside information she now had about his plans—no, being found with Slobag’s men could definitely be hazardous to her health.
Something clicked behind her. She turned to see Lex framed by the doorway.
“C’mon. I got food.”
Not the most delightful invitation she’d ever received, but her stomach didn’t care. Had she eaten the day before? Probably not, with all that speed. No wonder she’d slept for so long.
She followed him down a blank gray hallway, their feet echoing on the dark wood floor planks. As they moved farther down the hall the doors they passed grew more ornate, heavy red wood carved with dragons and pagodas. The contrast between them and the bare walls made Chess wonder what was hiding in those rooms.
Finally the hall ended in a large, wide room. Gold dragons and tigers fought in murals along the entire length of the walls, and the furniture was carved the same as the doors had been. It was like stepping into an elaborate set for a martial arts film, but at least it wasn’t in quite as bad taste as Bump’s place had been. Whatever genitalia the illustrated beasts possessed was mercifully hidden.
Lex gestured to a long polished table. “Sit you down, tulip. Got food for you. No poison there, neither.”
“Why are you doing this?”
He shrugged. “I’m hungry. Not polite to eat in fronts of people, aye?”
“So why not just say what you need to say and then eat when I leave?”
“You gonna sit? Only I’m tired of standing here.”
She sat. Up close she could see the fine grains in the table. It looked like real wood, a solid slab of it. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a piece of wood so large.
They sat in silence while an elderly man brought in a tray and placed two white china bowls in front of them, along with accompanying silverware. Beggar soup—that favorite dish of the Downside—but an especially elegant version loaded with meatballs and chicken and herbs. She could never afford to have both meats. Of course, she spent most of her money on other things. Most Debunkers lived much better than Chess did. Life was all about trade-offs.
“So. Why don’t we start talking now, aye?” he said, after she’d inhaled about half her bowlful. Hungrier than she’d thought, and free food was free food.
She stiffened in her seat. “Talk about what?”
“I guess you know what.”
“Um…no.”
“Hmm.” He leaned back, lit a cigarette, handed it to her and lit another one for himself. “I been thinking we talk about airports, tulip. How you like that topic?”
“My name isn’t tulip, you know.”
“I know.”
“So is there some reason you keep calling me that?”
“Maybe them tats interest me. Maybe one day you show me.” He cocked an eyebrow while smoke wreathed his spiky head.
“Maybe one day the Grand Elder will walk naked down the street.”
“Maybe he will, no telling. Or maybe one day Bump gonna reopen Chester Airport, what you say?”
She sucked in a long drag of fragrant smoke. Not her usual brand, but nice. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Not what I hear.”
“Maybe you heard wrong.”
“Or maybe you lie to me, Cesaria. Only thing is, I can’t figure out why anyone lie for a strut-speech like Bump. You got any ideas on that?”
“I don’t lie for anybody.” The filtered tip of the cigarette was tan, with little flecks of gold. They sparkled faintly when she turned it in her fingers.
“Seems to me you lie every day. Less you been telling them at your church what you do on your off-hours, right. They know you into Bump fifteen grand? They know why?”
When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I know you lying to me now, and I know you was out at Chester Friday night. I even know why you lie, causin you don’t want Terrible down on you like a load of steel. But you ain’t hiding anything from me I don’t know. And that’s just fine. Got a deal for you, tulip. A deal you like right.”
If Bump found out she’d discussed his airport plans with one of Slobag’s men, he’d…he might even have her killed. Even the spiritual dispensation offered by the Church wouldn’t protect her.
Then again, if she didn’t hear Lex out and agree to his deal, he’d probably tell Bump she’d come here offering information. What did he care? One dead Debunker wouldn’t exactly bother him.
“I’ll listen,” she said. “I’m not confirming anything about the airport, but I’ll listen.”
“Good. That’s real good.” He leaned forward and lit another cigarette. “So check the tale, tulip. Bump’s got you down there, disproving them ghosts, aye? Only maybe we don’t want them ghosts disproved. We sure don’t want them banished or exiled or whatever it is you people do. I gotta tell you why?”
She shook her head. Bump being able to fly his drugs into his own private airport wouldn’t be very good for Slobag.
“So that’s where you come in. You tell Bump there’s ghosts in that airport, real vicious ghosts ain’t gonna go anywhere.”
“He’ll expect me to Banish—”
“But maybe you can’t.”
“But I can. I mean, it’s what I do for a living.”
He shrugged. “You figure something out. I got belief, me. But Bump don’t open Chester. Big trouble for you if he does.”
The smell of the stew started to cloy. She pushed the bowl away. “And if he doesn’t?”
“Ah, good girl. If he don’t, we got specials for you. How much you pay Bump? Them pills don’t come cheap, aye? You visit the pipes, ain’t cheap. You do what we wants, you pay less. Like, nothing. Bump wants his money, we pays it. Then you come to us for what you need. All taken care of, tulip. Just for you. Brought to your door.”
Free drugs.
She could actually hold on to money for the first time in three years. Get a new car, maybe, with her next bonus, instead of using them to pay Bump her arrears. New clothes. Real hot food more than once or twice a week instead of snacks and junk.