anyone actually on the premises.
He had a bottle of designer water on the table in front of him, with flies crawling all over it. More flies buzzed around Eddie, except for the ones that got too close, and fell dead out of the air. I smiled at Eddie, and he nodded gravely back. I pulled up a chair opposite him. The smell was every bit as bad as I'd remembered it, but I like to think it didn't show
in my face. Joanna pulled up a chair beside me, trying hard to breathe only through her mouth. When Eddie spoke, his voice was low, controlled, almost ghostly.
"Hello, John. Welcome home. You're looking well. Why is it you only ever come to see me when you want something?"
"You're not always the easiest man to find, Eddie. And, you're a spooky bastard. So, how are things? Killed anyone interesting recently?"
The ghost of a smile moved across his pale lips. "No-one you'd know. I hear you're looking for a runaway."
Joanna started. "How did you know that?"
"Word gets around, in the Nightside," said Eddie. He turned his disturbingly bright eyes on me. 'Try the Fortress."
I nodded. I should have thought of that one myself. "Thanks, Eddie."
"You'll find Suzie there."
"Oh good," I said, trying to sound pleased. Suzie and I have a history. I was about to push back my chair when Eddie turned suddenly to look at Joanna, who started again under the impact of his gaze.
"You be careful around this man, miss. John isn't the safest of people to keep company with."
"Anything specific in mind, Eddie?" I said carefully.
"There are people looking for you, John."
"There are always people looking for me."
Eddie smiled gently. "These are bad people."
I waited, but he had nothing more to say. I nodded my thanks and rose to my feet. Joanna scrambled quickly to hers. I took her back to the bar. She breathed deeply all the way, and then shuddered suddenly.
"Awful little man. And what was that stench? I swear, he smelled like something that had died and then been dug up again."
"There are things about Razor Eddie it's best not to ask," I said wisely. "For our own peace of mind."
We were back at the bar again. Alex glowered at me in greeting. I looked at Joanna.
"You wait here, while I get word to the Fortress that we're coming. It's best not to surprise people with that many guns."
I moved off down the bar to use the courtesy phone. But even as I hit the numbers, listened to a recorded voice from the Fortress and left a brief message, I was still listening carefully to Joanna as she talked with Alex. Keep a close eye on your enemies, but a closer one on your friends. And clients. You tend to live longer that way, in my business. Alex gave Joanna what he thinks is his ingratiating smile. She didn't smile back.
"I'll have a large whiskey. Single malt. No ice."
"At last," said Alex. "A civilised drinker. You wouldn't believe what I get asked for some nights.
Designer beers and flavoured spirits and bloody cocktails with soft pom names. One guy actually wanted a piledriver, vodka with prune juice. Animal."
He poured Joanna a generous measure in a reasonably clean glass. She looked at him thoughtfully. "You know John Taylor."
"For my sins, yes."
"How well do you know him?"
"As well as he'll let me," said Alex, unusually serious. He has a weakness for blondes, especially ones that don't take any shit from him. That's why I left them alone together. Alex leaned across the bar to Joanna. "John doesn't believe in letting people in. And it has been five years ... Still, I knew he'd be back someday. This place has its claws in him. Born in the Nightside, he'll die in the Nightside, and it won't be of old age. Always has to be the white knight, riding in to rescue some poor bastard caught between a rock and a hard place. The ones with no-one else to turn to. John's always been a sucker for a hard luck story, and it would appear he's still arrogant enough to believe he knows what's best for everyone."
"Why did he become a private
He had a bottle of designer water on the table in front of him, with flies crawling all over it. More flies buzzed around Eddie, except for the ones that got too close, and fell dead out of the air. I smiled at Eddie, and he nodded gravely back. I pulled up a chair opposite him. The smell was every bit as bad as I'd remembered it, but I like to think it didn't show
in my face. Joanna pulled up a chair beside me, trying hard to breathe only through her mouth. When Eddie spoke, his voice was low, controlled, almost ghostly.
"Hello, John. Welcome home. You're looking well. Why is it you only ever come to see me when you want something?"
"You're not always the easiest man to find, Eddie. And, you're a spooky bastard. So, how are things? Killed anyone interesting recently?"
The ghost of a smile moved across his pale lips. "No-one you'd know. I hear you're looking for a runaway."
Joanna started. "How did you know that?"
"Word gets around, in the Nightside," said Eddie. He turned his disturbingly bright eyes on me. 'Try the Fortress."
I nodded. I should have thought of that one myself. "Thanks, Eddie."
"You'll find Suzie there."
"Oh good," I said, trying to sound pleased. Suzie and I have a history. I was about to push back my chair when Eddie turned suddenly to look at Joanna, who started again under the impact of his gaze.
"You be careful around this man, miss. John isn't the safest of people to keep company with."
"Anything specific in mind, Eddie?" I said carefully.
"There are people looking for you, John."
"There are always people looking for me."
Eddie smiled gently. "These are bad people."
I waited, but he had nothing more to say. I nodded my thanks and rose to my feet. Joanna scrambled quickly to hers. I took her back to the bar. She breathed deeply all the way, and then shuddered suddenly.
"Awful little man. And what was that stench? I swear, he smelled like something that had died and then been dug up again."
"There are things about Razor Eddie it's best not to ask," I said wisely. "For our own peace of mind."
We were back at the bar again. Alex glowered at me in greeting. I looked at Joanna.
"You wait here, while I get word to the Fortress that we're coming. It's best not to surprise people with that many guns."
I moved off down the bar to use the courtesy phone. But even as I hit the numbers, listened to a recorded voice from the Fortress and left a brief message, I was still listening carefully to Joanna as she talked with Alex. Keep a close eye on your enemies, but a closer one on your friends. And clients. You tend to live longer that way, in my business. Alex gave Joanna what he thinks is his ingratiating smile. She didn't smile back.
"I'll have a large whiskey. Single malt. No ice."
"At last," said Alex. "A civilised drinker. You wouldn't believe what I get asked for some nights.
Designer beers and flavoured spirits and bloody cocktails with soft pom names. One guy actually wanted a piledriver, vodka with prune juice. Animal."
He poured Joanna a generous measure in a reasonably clean glass. She looked at him thoughtfully. "You know John Taylor."
"For my sins, yes."
"How well do you know him?"
"As well as he'll let me," said Alex, unusually serious. He has a weakness for blondes, especially ones that don't take any shit from him. That's why I left them alone together. Alex leaned across the bar to Joanna. "John doesn't believe in letting people in. And it has been five years ... Still, I knew he'd be back someday. This place has its claws in him. Born in the Nightside, he'll die in the Nightside, and it won't be of old age. Always has to be the white knight, riding in to rescue some poor bastard caught between a rock and a hard place. The ones with no-one else to turn to. John's always been a sucker for a hard luck story, and it would appear he's still arrogant enough to believe he knows what's best for everyone."
"Why did he become a private
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