“Max,” Maggie said immediately. “Has to be Max. You’ve been rivals for years, hurt his business and made him look a fool, more than once. He must have decided to put an end to the competition.”
“Why would he want to keep me around after killing me?”
“To gloat! He hated your guts, Larry; it has to be him!”
I thought about it. I’d rubbed Max’s nose in it before, and all he ever did was talk. Maybe… he’d got tired of talking.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s go see the big man and ask him a few pointed questions.”
“He’s got a lot of protection,” said Maggie. “Not at all an easy man to get to see.”
“Do I look like I care? Are you in or not?”
“Of course I’m in! I’m just pointing out that Big Max is known for surrounding himself with heavy-duty firepower.”
I smiled. “Baby, I’m dead. How are they going to stop me?”
–
We went out into the streets, and walked through the Nightside. The rain had stopped, and the air was sharp with new possibilities. Hot neon blazed on every side, advertising the kinds of love that might not have names, but certainly have prices. Heavy bass lines surged out of open club doors, reverberating in the ground and in my bones. All kinds of people swept past us, intent on their own business. Only some of them were human. Traffic roared constantly up and down the road, and everyone was careful to give it plenty of room. Not everything that looked like a car was a car, and some of them were hungry. In the Nightside, taxis can run on deconsecrated altar wine, and motorcycle messengers snort powdered virgin’s blood for that extra kick.
Max’s place wasn’t far. He holed up in an upmarket cocktail bar called the Spider’s Web. Word is he used to work there once. And that he had his old boss killed when he took it over, then had the man stuffed and mounted and put on display. Max never left the place anymore, and held court there from behind more layers of protection than some presidents can boast. The big man had a lot of enemies, and he gloried in it.
Along the way I kept getting quick flashes of déjà vu. Brief glimpses of my dream of running through the rain. Except I was pretty sure by now that it wasn’t a dream but a memory. I could feel the desperation as I ran, pursued by something without a face.
The only entrance to the Spider’s Web was covered by two large gentlemen with shoulder holsters, and several layers of defensive magics. I knew about the magics because a client had once hired me to find out exactly what Max was using. Come to think of it, no one had seen that client for some time. I murmured to Maggie to hang on to my arm, then drew my wand and activated it. It shone with a brilliant light, too bright to look at, and all around us the world seemed to slow down, and become flat and unreal. The roar of the traffic shut off, and the neon stopped flickering. Maggie and I were outside Time. We walked between the two bodyguards, and they didn’t even see us. I could feel the defensive magics straining, reaching out, unable to touch us.
We walked on through the club, threading our way through the frozen crowds. Deeper and deeper, into the lair of the beast. There were things going on that sickened even me, but I didn’t have the time to stop and do anything. I only had one shot at this. Maggie held my arm tightly. It would probably have hurt if I’d still been alive.
“Well,” she said, trying for a light tone and not even coming close. “A genuine wand of the Faerie. That explains a lot of things.”
“It always helps to have an unsuspected edge.”
“You could have told me. I am your partner.”
“You can never tell who’s listening, in the Nightside.” I probably would have told her, if she hadn’t ended our affair. “But I think I’m past the point of needing secrets anymore.”
We found the big man sitting behind a desk in a surprisingly modest inner office. He was playing solitaire with tarot cards, and cheating. Thick mats of ivy crawled across the walls, and the floor was covered with cabalistic symbols. I closed the door behind us so we wouldn’t be interrupted, and shut down the wand. Max looked up sharply as we appeared suddenly in front of him. His right hand reached for something, but Maggie already had her silver magnum derringer out and covering him. Max shrugged, sat back in his chair, and studied us curiously.
Max Maxwell, so big they named him twice. A giant of a man, huge and lowering even behind his oversized mahogany desk. Eight feet tall and impressively broad across the shoulders, with a harsh and craggy face, he looked like he was carved out of stone. A gargoyle in a Savile Row suit. Max traded in secrets, and stayed in business because he knew something about everyone. Or at least, everyone who mattered. Even if he hadn’t killed me, there was a damned good chance he knew who had.
“Larry Oblivion,” he said, in a voice like grinding stone. “My dearest rival and most despised competitor. To what do I owe the displeasure of this unexpected visit?”
“Like you don’t already know,” said Maggie, her derringer aimed directly between his eyes.
Max ignored her, his gaze fixed on me. “Provide me with one good reason why I shouldn’t have both of you killed for this impertinence?”
“How about; you already killed me? Or haven’t you noticed that I only breathe when I talk?”
Max studied me thoughtfully. “Yes. You are dead. You have no aura. I wish I could claim the credit, but alas, it seems someone else has beaten me to it. And besides, if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead and gone, not hanging around to trouble me.”
“He’s right,” I said to Maggie. “Max is famous for never leaving loose ends.”
“You want me to kill him anyway?” said Maggie.
“No,” I said. “Tell me, Max. If you didn’t kill me, who did?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” said Max, smiling slowly, revealing grey teeth behind the grey lips. “Which means it isn’t any of your usual enemies. And if I don’t know, no one does.”
I felt suddenly tired. Max had been my best bet, my last hope. He could have been lying, but I didn’t think so. Not when he knew the truth could hurt me more. My body was decaying, I had no more leads, and I didn’t have the time left to go anywhere else. So Maggie and I walked out the way we came in. Maggie would have killed Max, if I’d asked, but I didn’t see the point. Feuds and vendettas are for the living; when you’re dead you just can’t be bothered with the small shit.
–
Maggie took me back to her place. I needed time out, to sit and think. I was close to despair. I didn’t have enough time left to investigate all the enemies I’d made in my personal and professional life. A disturbing and depressing thought, for someone facing eternity. So many enemies, and so few friends… I sat on Maggie’s couch, and looked fondly at her as she made us some coffee. We’d been so good together, for a while. Why didn’t it work out? If I knew the answer to that, we’d still be together. She came in from the kitchen, carrying two steaming mugs. I took one, and held it awkwardly. I wanted to drink the coffee to please her, but I couldn’t. She looked at me, puzzled.
“Larry? What’s the matter?”
And just like that, I knew. Because I finally recognized the voice I’d been hearing ever since I woke up dead.
I was at Maggie’s place, drinking coffee. It tasted funny. Larry? she said. Larry? What’s wrong? I felt something burning in my throat, and knew she’d poisoned me. I stopped time with my wand, and ran. It was raining. I didn’t dare go home. She’d find me. I didn’t know where to go for help, so I went to ground, in my old safe house at Blaiston Street. And I died there, still wondering why my partner and ex-lover had killed me.
“It was you,” I said, and something in my voice made her flinch. “You poisoned me. Why?”
“The how is more interesting,” Maggie said calmly. She sat down opposite me, entirely composed. “An old voodoo drug in your coffee, to kill you and set you up for the zombie spell. But of course I didn’t know about the wand. It interacted with my magic, buying you more time. The wand’s magic is probably what’s holding you together now.”