Wrong Ways Down (downside ghosts) Page 8

  One more thing it maybe gave him, but he had to check that one. “Callie,” he said. “Where Gav keeping he stuff he were gonna move?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “YOU STILL LIVING the same place?” he asked her, once he’d backed the Chevelle outen the alley.

  “Aye.”

  Fuck. He had no clue where she lived; he’d hoped she’d have moved and give him a new address, or she’d remind him. They’d met at Trickster’s, he thought, and walked to hers … ? Or ain’t that been her?

  He glanced at her, tryna think of another way to ask, and found her half-smiling at him. “Ain’t worry you ain’t recalling,” she said. “Ain’t were expecting you to. True thing, Terrible, no problem. Were just fun, aye?”

  He tried to smile back, but stopped when she started crying again.

  “Ain’t hadda worry on that with Gav,” she said, wiping her nose on the bottom of her skirt. “Nine months we been together … loved me, he did, we was gonna set up a house, gonna maybe have us a baby … why this happened? Why he be the one getting killed?”

  Shit, what were he supposed to say? To hide his discomfort he pulled out a couple of smokes and offered her one. She shook her head. He lit his anyway.

  “Tryna find out,” he said finally, after the silence had gone on a few beats too long. “Tryna catch who done it, aye? You let me see what stuff he got you place, maybe we finding somethin tell us more.”

  “Left on Fifty-third,” she said in reply, and ain’t spoke again except for giving him directions.

  Turned out she lived up on Cole, little stone house behind a bigger one. Another memory clicked into place.

  Still had them creepy pictures, he saw as soon’s she opened the door. Big-eyed kittens and unsmiling kids holding flowers, all staring right outen the walls at him like accusations or some shit. And from the other single bed up against the wall he guessed she still had that creepy roommate, too, the one asked him if she could have some of he blood for her collection.

  She’d said it were a collection, but he’d wondered iffen she were wanting it to do magic with; seeing the place now made him think he’d been right, causen just the briefest look around showed him shit people outside the Church weren’t supposed to have. Another thing he knew from Chess. He could imagine what she’d say about them freaky pictures, about the roommate who wanted blood; for a second he wished she were there with him. He could hear her voice in his head.

  “He stuff be here,” Callie said. She’d been crying so much her voice sounded all scratchy. “These boxes. What you thinking you find? Why you looking?”

  Only three boxes. Wouldn’t take long, but he already doubted he’d find aught to help him there. He’d been hoping to find something tell he who Gav’s friends were, what places Gav hung around. Them who killed him went to him for a reason, ain’t just picked he out of a crowd. Not for that kinda money, that kinda action. Any wanting a lookout for shit like that ain’t wanting to take a chance being snitched on when them lookout learned what crime they looked out for.

  And they ain’t killed Gav right after. Which meant they’d figured on him keeping he mouth shut. They knew him. Had to know him, and trusted him.

  Callie took off her coat, revealing a shiny silver dress that showed lots of smooth brown skin, lots of curves, and that she weren’t wearing anything underneath. He felt guilty noticing, seeing as how her tears weren’t even all dry, but she ain’t seemed to care. She headed into the painfully bright pink kitchen, came out a minute later with a chipped mug full of what smelled like gin and a beer. She offered the beer to him; he took it but only pretended to sip. Aye, he were pretty certain she weren’t in on any of it, but he ain’t managed to live to be whatever age he were by not being paranoid.

  He started digging through the first box, pulling out a tangle of limp button-down shirts and dressy-looking pants; Gav’s working clothes, guessing. “So who Gav’s friends were? You know any?”

  “Said he only wanting be with me.” For a second he thought she were gonna cry again, but she pulled it together. “Mention he … Cartwheel, thinking it were. Were friends with some name of Loop. And were a dude Archie he talked on a lot the last month or so. Archie had a game for he, they was workin together or plannin to work or … ain’t for certain on all them details. Just knowing the name, Archie, an Gav all excited causen he was gonna bring some real lashers in, said—said he support me the way I oughta be, dig me, said I ain’t gonna be having to work no more … ”

  “You meet he ever?”

  “Nay.” She upended the mug over her mouth and swallowed the contents in one gulp. He guessed he’d do the same iffen he were in her shoes. “Went by he place on one time, waited in the car. Lived … Sixty-second, thinking? Were Tate Street, twixt Sixty-first an Sixty-second. Red building.”

  “When this were?”

  “Last week? Maybe a few days more. Ain’t long past. Gav saying—Gav saying Archie real smart, got work for he, a real living.”

  “Archie working the duff, too?”

  “Gav saying some on legit work, dig. Real work, like a straight job. Ain’t knowing iffen that were Archie or no.”

  The next box looked to be Gav’s work shit; a smaller box full of fake diamond rings and bracelets, some coins in little plastic bags like the kind for speed, coils of what looked like gold but weren’t. That kinda shit. A stack of fake papers, too, certificates of authenticity and insurance papers and like that, to back up the scam. Why Gav ain’t had any lashers, iffen he had all this? Looked like good quality, too, like he spent some getting it.

  Maybe that were why he were broke. He turned to Callie, who sat on she crazy roommate’s bed watching him. “Gav ain’t been making much on he games, aye?”

  “Been lean times.” She took a deep shuddery breath. “Saying he figured all be right up in place on the next month. So I covering until then, covering we meals and all.”

  He couldn’t help it; first thing he wondered was iffen Gav working he another long game on Callie. She paying all nine months gone? Fuck. He ain’t never heard of a plain duff game running that long. And what Gav had in he box ain’t looked near sophisticated enough for the kinda game that did. That kinda game were about lines of credit and leases and vacation homes and shit; had to be able to talk smart and look rich, and Gav’s collection of khakis and fake engagement rings were nowhere near that kinda thing.

  So the idea that Gav had been planning something for nine months … he ain’t could help thinking it sounded more like maybe Gav found heself a free ride. He hoped he were wrong. Callie ain’t deserved some shitbag made a dame pay his way. “Why he ain’t moving in here with you?”

  She gestured at the bed she sat on. “Viola ain’t liking me having dudes here all night. Got real mad, she done, when he tried stayin more’n one in a row. So … we was waiting till we could afford we own place. Stayed with he most nights, I done, only with it bein so cold now … ”

  He felt like there oughta be some more he could say or something, the way she kept crying. But what else was she supposed to do, and what was he supposed to do? Couldn’t stand there all night holding she hand. He had to work. And he ain’t knew her, not really. One night a year or so past, and he ain’t seen or talked to her again. He ain’t had the faintest idea how to help her feelings, and ain’t had the time neither. Made him feel bad, but were true all the same.

  “He give you any else? Gave you aught might explain on this, might give me someplace to look?”

  She sighed, a real long heavy sigh. “Say the new thing were real solid, say would pull in lots and make em rich. Bigger … bigger something, he done said. Something selling itself, he ain’t hardly having to work it, he say. But that all he say, aye? Ain’t gave me any else. Saying wanting surprise me.”

  He sorted through the last box fast as he could. Some pictures of what looked like Gav’s family. Couple notebooks; he grabbed them, too. More clothes … nothing else he might could use.

  He waved the note
books at Callie. “Taking these, aye? Can bring em back if you’re wanting, on the later.”

  She nodded. He got the feeling she were ready for him to go. Ain’t could blame her there. Iffen he were her he wouldn’t want to watch him digging through she boyfriend’s shit neither. He’d want to be alone. Felt like she sadness were so big it filled the room, and ain’t left much space for him.

  He headed for the door, paused in front of her. What was he supposed to say there? “Gonna find who done this, aye? I find em. You recall any else you thinking be good knowledge for me, even any you thinking maybe ain’t important, you let me know, aye?”

  “Ain’t got you number,” she said.

  Shit. He ain’t gave out he actual number much. Wouldn’t have thought twice on giving her the street-man number usually, but given that he’d seen her naked … he’d feel like an asshole giving her a number answered by somebody else.

  So he scrawled down his, opened he wallet. He ain’t had much on him; only fifty, but he handed it over. “Here. For the knowledge, aye? An gimme a ring-up iffen you recall aught, or any else happens. Maybe you hearing from somebody knew he, or like that. Lemme know.”

  He wondered if she would.

  Archie had the look Terrible had seen before, like he figured he were the smartest, coolest dude ever walked on the ground. Like he jerked off into a mirror.

  And the way Archie looked back at him made him want to punch the fucker in the mouth. Smug, he guessed were the word for it. And Terrible knew exactly what Archie were thinking as he looked at him: Big dumb ugly goon, I can lie to him easy and he ain’t know the difference.

  Fine with him, Archie wanted to think that way. Causen one of two things was going to happen. Either Archie was going to learn Terrible weren’t so dumb by paying attention, or Archie was going to learn Terrible weren’t so dumb by getting his nose broken. And Terrible kinda hoped it was the second one.

  Past Archie Terrible could see his apartment. Nicer than most. Looked like Archie even put money into the place. His suspicions rose. Archie coulda made that money on cons, easy, but why live in Downside if he making that kinda cash? Anybody had the money to have stuff like that furniture, that stereo and big-ass TV … anybody had that kind of money, they didn’t live in Downside.

  Except him, aye, but he had a reason for living there.

  Archie had lived in Downside long enough to know what to say when he opened the door, too. “I don’t want trouble with Bump.”

  They all said that. Even when they’d gone and gotten themselves in trouble on purpose, they said it. “You answer me, you ain’t have trouble, dig?”

  Archie nodded. He didn’t step back to let Terrible in. That didn’t matter. Terrible shoved him out of the way and walked in, scanning the place fast to make sure nobody were hiding in there.

  He didn’t look back at Archie, though. Let Archie know he weren’t scared. He’d see Archie out the corner of his eye, iffen he tried to make a move.

  The place was way too fucking nice for Downside. He had one a them big-ass wall units that held his TV and all, had glass doors on it. Couch and chair looked brand new.

  Could have all been stolen. But still. “Nice place.”

  He felt Archie hesitate behind him. Felt his surprise. Hadn’t expected him to talk first, had he? No, causen he was one of them assholes read books about business strategy or whatever, like dealing with people was nothing more than a set of ten rules. And none of those rules applied there anyway. Terrible had the “tactical advantage,” and he knew it, causen if Archie tried playing games with him he’d just beat him down. Made things real easy.

  Especially since Archie looked like a dude afraid to get hurt. Being afraid to get hurt meant he lost. Always. The key to winning was knowing that kind of pain ain’t last, and knowing how to take it. Knowing how to make it work, how to get used to it. Learning to accept it. Welcome it. Get so you wanted it.

  Terrible was good at all of that. Feeling it outside beat feeling it inside.

  Archie still hadn’t said anything. Terrible glanced back at him, still standing there by the door. “Goin out?”

  Archie blinked. “No. Um, why are you here? It’s awfully late, isn’t it?”

  “You knowing a dude name of Gav?”

  “Why?” The word came out real curious, like Archie couldn’t think of any reason in the whole fucking world why he might get asked on Gav. But he obviously could. Tension sat in every line of his body, even though he was trying hard not to let it show. Like that weren’t suspicious.

  Terrible shrugged. “You name come up somebody knows he.”

  He’d came there to see iffen Archie might have more knowledge on Gav. But he were real fast starting to wonder iffen Archie had some serious knowledge on Gav, like the kinda knowledge came from being involved. Something about him was off. Something wrong. Terrible’s instincts told him so, and instincts were what he had instead of smarts.

  So he wandered around the room, checking things out. Couple of books. Only a couple, computer guides and business books—aye, he knew it. Guessing Archie weren’t as smart as he liked to think he was, he ain’t even read real books.

  “Who said that?”

  Terrible picked up one of the books, pretended to flip through it. “Been here long?”

  “Two months or so. Who said I know Gav?”

  “Where you lived before?”

  “Fifty-sixth and Mercer. Why are you asking?”

  “Just tryna be friendly, aye?” Terrible gave him a look he knew wasn’t friendly at all. “Gettin to know you.”

  “I knew Gav.” Archie folded his arms. “Don’t really have any information for you. Didn’t know him well. Don’t know what he might have been doing that got him killed.”

  Terrible looked at him for a long moment. Long enough to make Archie fidget. “Killed? Ain’t said aught on he bein killed, or on wondering what he been doin. What you talking on?”

  An eyelid flicker. “Just heard he got killed. I figured that’s why you’re here, because something he was doing made him get killed.”

  “Then why you ain’t asked me on it when I get here, you think it’s why I came?”

  Archie opened his mouth, but Terrible didn’t let him answer. “Thinkin you wanna gimme the tell now, what you know on it. You friends with Gav, you say.”

  “I wouldn’t say friends.” Archie’d been standing by the door the whole time. Now he moved, walking real slow like he was some kinda badass and sitting down on the leather couch. “We knew each other. He was going to work with me. We met, he mentioned wanting a job, my work was hiring. That’s all.”

  “He say any to you on other ways he getting lashers?”

  “Money? Um, no, I don’t think so. We didn’t talk a lot. We were just acquaintances.”

  “Where you work?”

  “Why?”

  This was bullshit. Terrible folded his arms and stared, letting I-could-just-kill-you show all over his face.

  “I work in Cross Town. Right on the border. The Peace Factory.”

  The Peace Factory. “What the fuck kind of place is that?”

  “We make yoga supplies, meditation supplies. Some magic supplies.”

  “And you got Gav work there.”

  Archie shrugged, but his eyes and voice were defensive. And nervous. “Gav had some sales ability. We’re always launching new products and need salespeople to get them into stores. That’s all.”

  “What you launching now?”

  “Some new meditation discs, some new spells. Why do you care?”

  Terrible stared at him for another minute without speaking, making sure Archie saw the threat, saw Terrible wasn’t done with him. But his mood lifted, even though it shouldn’t have. A company made magic supplies. Chess would know about that one. Might have some thoughts for him. He bet she would. And now he had an excuse to go see her and ask her on it—well, he’d had an excuse anyway, or he ain’t needed an excuse, but now he really did. And it’d be easy to
ask her if she’d heard of the place without having to bring up anything might upset her. “The fuck you care why I care? Just askin. Gav gets he involved with you, now turning up dead. Awful suspicious, aye?”

  “Look, I don’t know what he might have been doing in his own time. And this isn’t exactly the safest area in the world, is it? I’m sorry he’s dead but all I know is he was going to come work at the Peace Factory. I don’t know anything else.”

  Bullshit. Bullshit he ain’t knew anything else.

  Problem were, Terrible couldn’t do too much on it. His suspicions weren’t solid enough yet to start hitting; would be fun to beat on Archie, but it’d be pointless iffen Archie were just an asshole who got Gav a job. Specially since Callie’d made it sound like Gav were going legit with that job. Might not have shit to do with being a lookout.

  More’n that, though, beating on Archie now would tip Archie off that he knew Gav had been the lookout. Would make Archie tip off whoever he worked for, if he were working for somebody. Would let Archie know exactly what Terrible was looking for.

  Better to let him keep thinking they ain’t knew shit. Better to let him keep thinking Terrible were too dumb to know anything—or, better again, that Terrible were all threat and no action, that he were scared to just beat on anybody for any reason.

  Better to let him feel safe.

  “Gav ever mentioning other names to you? Friends he got, like that?”

  “Not really.”

  “Hearing he were here on the last week. Why come?”

  Archie looked surprised, for about as long as it took him to blink the expression away. “I gave him some forms to fill out, for work. He wasn’t starting for another few weeks, but he wanted to get everything going. He was real excited about it. I guess he had some chick he was going to live with.”

  It all fit. It all made sense. But something in Terrible’s head kept telling him Archie weren’t what he seemed, that maybe there were more to it. “Why you living here, you work in Cross Town?”