The Unnatural Inquirer (23 page)

Bettie moved immediately to put herself between me and the Removal Man. “You can’t! I won’t let you! He’s a good man, in his way. And he’s done more for the Nightside than you ever have!”

“Stand aside,” said the Removal Man. “Mr. Taylor goes first, because he is the most dangerous. And please, no more protestations. I really have heard them all before.”

Bettie was still searching for something to say, when I took her by the arm and moved her gently but firmly to one side. “I don’t hide behind anyone,” I said to the Removal Man. “I don’t need to, you arrogant, self-righteous little prig.”

“Mr. Taylor…”

“What did you have to kill the Cardinal for? I liked him. He was no threat to anyone.”

“He betrayed his faith,” said the Removal Man. “He was a thief. And an abomination.”

“I’ve scraped more appealing things than you off the bottom of my shoe,” I said.

I raised my gift again and Saw right through the Removal Man. It wasn’t difficult to find out who he’d really made his deal with and show him the truth. Not God. Not God at all. I showed the Removal Man who’d really been pulling his strings all this time, and he screamed like a soul newly damned to Hell. He staggered back and forth on the raised stage, shaking his head in denial, even as he cried out in shock and loathing. Until finally, unable to face who and what he really was, he turned his power on himself and disappeared.

And that was the end of the Removal Man.

I hadn’t wanted to destroy him. He really had done a lot of good in his time, along with the bad and the questionable. But no-one’s more vulnerable than those who believe they’re better than everyone else. His whole existence had been based on a lie. He’d been betrayed, and I knew who by. I’d Seen him. I looked into the shadows at the back of the raised stage.

“All right, you can come out now. Come on out, Mr. Gaylord du Rois, Editor of the one and only Unnatural Inquirer.”

Bettie’s gasp was so shocked it came out as little more than a muffled squeak as Gaylord du Rois stepped forward into the light to stare calmly down at both of us.

“Well done, Mr. Taylor. You really are almost as good as people say you are.”

Du Rois was a tall, elderly gentleman, dressed in the very best Edwardian finery. His back was straight, his head held high, and there wasn’t a trace of weakness or frailty in him, for all his obvious age. His face was a mass of wrinkles, and his bare head was undecorated save for liver spots and a few fly-away hairs. His deep-set cold grey eyes hardly blinked at all, and his mouth was a wet slash of colourless lips. His hands were withered claws, but they still looked like they could do a lot of damage. He burned with a harsh and unforgiving energy, determined and defiant, as though he could hold back death through sheer force of will. He nodded at the spot where the Removal Man had disappeared himself.

“Damned fool. Always was inflexible. He really did think he’d been given his power by God himself, to indulge his prejudices and paranoias. I suppose learning I was his puppet master, and had been all along, was just too much to bear. Such a come-down from God. It doesn’t matter. I’d have had to replace him soon anyway. He was having delusions of independence. Still, I can always find another fool.”

“I don’t understand,” said Bettie. “You’re the Editor? You’ve always been the Editor? And…the Removal Man was your creature all along? Why?”

“Dear Bettie,” du Rois said indulgently. “Always a reporter, always asking the right questions. Yes, my dear, I am your Editor and always have been. The Inquirer is mine, and mine alone, and has been for over a hundred years. And in that time I have created many Removal Men to serve my needs. They don’t tend to last long. Such small, blinkered, black-and-white attitudes don’t tend to survive long when faced with the ever-shifting greys of the Nightside. They burn out. But there’s always someone who thinks they know better than everyone else, just itching for a chance to remake the world in their own limited image…”

“Why create them?” I said. “I don’t see why the Editor of the Unnatural Inquirer should give much of a damn about the morality of the Nightside.”

“Quite right, Mr. Taylor. I don’t give a damn. Except for when it makes good copy. Reporting and condemning the sins and shames of the Nightside has filled the pages of my paper for generations. But one lifetime wasn’t enough for me. I wanted more. There was still so much left to see, and know, and do. So I found a way. You can always find a way in the Nightside, even if some of them aren’t very nice. When one of my Removal Men removes a thing, or a person, all their potential energy, from all the things they might have done, is left up for grabs; and it all comes to me. Those energies have kept me going long after I should have left this world, and made me very powerful indeed.”

“You’re the one who shut down my gift!” I said.

“Yes,” du Rois said calmly. “It was necessary to neuter you, so you wouldn’t find Pen Donavon too quickly. I needed time for rumours about the Afterlife Recording to spread, and grow, and fascinate the minds of my readers. Bringing you in guaranteed that people would pay attention. After all, if you were involved, it must be important. By the time my Sunday edition comes out, with my giveaway DVD, people will be fighting for copies of my paper. And all because of you…”

“Sales?” I said. “This has all been about sales?”

“Of course. I don’t think you appreciate exactly how much money I stand to make out of this, Mr. Taylor.”

“Why are you here?” Bettie said suddenly. “Why reveal the truth about yourself now, to us?”

Du Rois smiled on her almost fondly. “Still asking the right questions, Bettie, like the fine reporter you are. A pity you’ll never get to write this story. Sorry, my dear, but I am here to protect my interests, and my paper’s. And your story, of the truth behind the Afterlife Recording, can never be allowed to see print. I report the news; I have no wish to be part of it.”

“You want the DVD?” I said. I took it out of my coat-pocket and threw it at him. “Have it. Damn thing’s just a fake anyway.”

He made no attempt to catch the disc, letting it fall to clatter on the stage before him. “Real or fake, it doesn’t matter. I can still sell it, thanks to your involvement. You really have been very helpful to me, Mr. Taylor, spreading the story and stirring up interest, but that’s all over now. I have my story. And since every story needs a good ending…what better way to convince everyone of the DVD’s importance than that you should be killed, acquiring it for me? Nothing like a famous corpse to add spice to a story.” He looked at Bettie. “I’m afraid you have to die, too, my dear. Can’t have anyone hanging around to contradict the story I’m going to sell people.”

“But…I’m one of your people!” said Bettie. “I work for the Inquirer!”

“I have lots of reporters. I can always get more. Now hush, dear. Your voice really is very wearing…Don’t move, Mr. Taylor. I’ve already taken the precaution of shutting down your gift again, just in case you were thinking of using it on me. And you don’t have anything else powerful enough to stop me.”

“Want to bet?” I said. And I took out of my coat-pocket the Aquarius Key. I activated the small metal box, and it opened up, unfolding and blossoming like a steel flower. A great rip appeared in reality, right in front of Gaylord du Rois. He only had time to scream once before the void swallowed him, then he was gone. I hung on grimly to Bettie as the void pulled us forward, then I shut the Aquarius Key down again, and that was that.

It was suddenly very quiet in the empty club. Bettie looked at me with huge eyes.

“I really should have handed the Key over to Walker, after that nasty business at Fun Faire,” I said. “But I had a feeling it might come in handy.”

“You’ve had that all along?” said Bettie. “Why didn’t you use it before?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t need it before.”

She hit me.

EPILOGUE

I
phoned Walker and arranged to meet him at the Londinium Club. Now that I’d used the Aquarius Key, Walker was bound to know I had it. And he’d want it. I could have hung on to the Key if I’d been ready to make a big thing out of it, but I wasn’t. The Aquarius Key gave me the creeps. Some things you know are bad news for all concerned. They’re just too…tempting. So back to the Londinium Club Bettie and I went. Plenty of time yet to take the damned DVD to the offices of the Unnatural Inquirer. Where Scoop Malloy would have to decide what to do with it, and the news that his paper no longer had an Editor.

“But how would Walker know you’ve got the Key?” said Bettie, skipping merrily along beside me. She was back in her polka-dot dress and big floppy hat look.

“Walker knows everything,” I said. “Or at least, everything he needs to know.”

“I still can’t get over my Editor being the Bad Guy in all this. I wonder who’ll replace him at the Inquirer?”

“Scoop Malloy?”

“Oh, please! I don’t think so!” Bettie pulled a disparaging face that still somehow managed to look attractive on her. “Scoop’s only Sub-Editor material, and he knows it. No; the new owner will have to bring in someone new, from outside. But you know what? I don’t care! Because for the first time in my career I have a real story to write! The truth behind Gaylord du Rois, the Removal Men, and the Afterlife Recording. Real news…which means I’m a real reporter at last! Right?”

“I don’t see why not,” I said. “The Inquirer might make you the new Editor on the strength of it.”

“Oh, poo! I’m not wasting a real story on the Inquirer!” Bettie said indignantly. “Far too good for them. No; I’m going to sell it to Julien Advent at the Night Times; in return for a job on his paper. A real reporter on a real newspaper! I’m going up in the world! Mummy will be so pleased…”

“What about your other story?” I said. “A day in the company of the infamous John Taylor?”

Bettie smiled and hooked her arm familiarly through mine. “Let someone else write it.”

We came at last to the Londinium Club, and Bettie and I stopped at the foot of the steps to stare at the black iron railings surrounding the club. Impaled on the iron spikes were three recently severed heads. Queen Helena, Uptown Taffy Lewis, and General Condor. Helena looked as though she was still screaming. Taffy looked sullen. And the General…had a look of sad resignation, as though he’d known all along it would come to this. I’m sure enough people warned him. The Nightside does so love to break a hero.

“Admiring the display?” said Walker, unhurriedly descending the steps to join us. “It makes a statement, I think.”

“Your work?” I asked.

“I ordered it done,” said Walker. “They disturbed the peace of the Nightside and threatened to plunge it into civil war. So I did what I had to.”

“And not at all because they challenged your authority,” I said.

Walker just smiled.

“But…why kill the General?” said Bettie, staring fascinated at the impaled heads. “I mean, he was one of the good guys. Wasn’t he?”

“There’s no-one more dangerous to the status quo,” I said. “Right, Walker?”

He put out a hand to me. “You have something for me, I believe?”

I handed over the Aquarius Key. Walker hefted it on the palm of his hand. “You didn’t really think you’d be allowed to keep something as powerful as this, did you, John?”

I shrugged. “Be grateful. I could have given it to the Collector.”

He nodded to me, tipped his bowler hat to Bettie, and went back into his Club. Leaving his handiwork behind him, pour discourager les autres.

“You could have kept that Key,” said Bettie. “He’s not powerful enough to make you do anything you don’t want to.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not. All depends on where he’s getting his power from these days…But anyway, I’m not ready to go head to head with him, not just yet. Certainly not over a glorified magical waste disposal. We’re still on the same side. I think.”

“Even after this?” said Bettie, gesturing fiercely at the severed heads. “Look at them! Killed by one of his pet assassins, just because they threatened his position! You liked the General. I could tell.”

“Walker’s done worse, in his time,” I said. “And so have I.”

Bettie took both my hands in hers and made me face her, her eyes holding mine. “You’re better than you think, John. Better than you allow yourself to believe. I know you’ve done…questionable things. I’ve seen some of them. But you’re not the cold-blooded killer your legend makes you out to be.”

“Bettie…”

“You’re the way you are because of her! Because of Suzie Shooter, Shotgun Suzie! She wants you to be a killer, just like her. Because that’s the only way you’ll ever have something in common instead of what everyone else has. You don’t have to be like her, John. I can show you a better life.”

“Bettie, don’t…”

“Hush, John. Hush. Listen to me. I love you. I want to be with you, want you to be with me. You can’t throw your life away on Suzie Shooter, simply because you feel sorry for her. She’s cold, broken…she can never be a real woman to you. Not like I can. How can you have a real relationship with someone when you can’t even touch her? I could make you so happy, John. We could have a home, a life, a sex life.”

She moved in close, still holding on tight to my hands, her face so close to mine now I could feel the breath from her words on my mouth.

“I can be any kind of woman you want, John. Every dream you ever had. I’m exactly the right kind of woman for you, one foot in Heaven, one foot in Hell. Come with me, John. You know you want to.”

“Yes,” I said. “I want to. But that’s not enough.”

“What else is there? I can help you! You don’t have to be a killer, don’t have to be so cold…With my help you could be a better person, a real hero!”

“But that’s not me,” I said. “And never was. I am what I have to be, to get things done; and that includes the bad as well as the good. Suzie understands that. She’s always understood me. She accepts me, all of me. I’ve never had to explain myself to her. She’s my friend, my partner, my love. I love her, and she loves me as best she can. And she cares about the real me, not the legend you still insist on seeing when you look at me. I want you, Bettie. But I don’t need you, not the way I need Suzie.”