When Graveyards Yawn, G. Wells Taylor [a court of thorns and roses ebook free .TXT] 📗

Willieboy made claws out of his hands, and then wedged them between his knees. His eyelids fluttered with mock compassion.

“I’m just a lowly bush beater. Any tigers and the clown gets it.” I tried to change the topic. “You already said I was expendable.” I straightened. “The fire at the Morocco makes more sense. If one of your teams didn’t want the murders investigated, they’d just torch it. Do you have any idea who ordered that?”

“No.” Willieboy leaned back in his chair, apparently willing to wait for his report.

“How long have you been following me?”

“A long time.” Willieboy was reluctant to let that cat out of the bag. He studied his nails. “Shit, we lost you in the landfill. A couple of the boys I’d sent to tail you to Simpson’s, fucking lost you in the fog.”

“I talked to Cane.”

“Oh, don’t worry about fucking Cane! He wouldn’t tell us anything. He’s got his own deal going on the inside.”

“When did you pick me up again?”

“Not long after you got back…” His eyes were earnest.

“You made the call…put me onto Cotton.”

“When the time was right, yeah. I didn’t think you’d give up like that.”

“I guess I wasn’t doing my job,” I said this absently. I saw all the threads of intrigue winding themselves into a noose—would I put my head through it? “The note for the warehouse—Cotton’s laboratory. I assume you left that for me.” I watched Willieboy nod. “If Cotton died at the Morocco…why was his lab torched?”

“It’s the King,” said Willieboy. “Or his people. Someone was trying to provide convincing answers. There’s a lot of money at stake. Fewer questions the better.”

“You lost me again last night.” My shoulder had begun to throb.

“One of our boys must have been sleeping, or scarfing around with some whore. Shit, you live in a rough neighborhood. This morning we spotted your friend,” he gestured to Elmo, “and followed him to the church. We were outside for about half an hour.”

I tried to count the facts he didn’t know. The only thing I knew for sure was he probably didn’t know about the missing detective, Owen Grey, or Van Reydner’s note for me to meet her at the Arizona. I realized the Handyman and his partner were members of the Twelve Stars Group—so they must have a team working in Authority, but how big were they? I conjured up the picture of the odd charm I’d seen on his wrist, and on the thin arm of Adrian’s secretary.

“Who killed Cotton?” I gave Willieboy my serious face.

“I don’t know and he couldn’t tell us. When we talked to Billings, he was no help because he was in Blacktime while Cotton was getting murdered. There was a lot of activity revolving around Billings so we couldn’t give a real search for Cotton without attracting attention. We finally found what was left of him out back, but by then, all the groups were represented and we had to play by the rules or take the shadows.”

I stared at Willieboy hard, trying to detect any subterfuge. I had to admit the scar over his lip was an imposing characteristic. That married to his black eyes made him unreadable.

“So, here we are.”

“Here we are. And you’re playing hero.” Willieboy let out a cloud of smoke. “I just wanted to get hold of you and look you in the eyes while you can still look back. You’ve pissed off Inspector Cane. He’s a bad fucker who will kill you if he takes it into his mind to do it. I don’t know what his beef is, but he has an ‘all points’ out on you. He says detain at all costs. Which means he’ll question you when you’re dead if he has to. He’s going ballistic, so he must have a pretty big gun to the back of his head. When we heard a call on the radio ordering five cars to the Mother of Christ Cathedral to apprehend a known felon we stepped in. Lucky we were there.”

“You might take me for a sap, but I know you must have something to gain by this.”

“Regenerics.” Willieboy’s face drew into a serious set of lines. “And listen, I’m the closest thing to justice there is in Greasetown. If you can trust anyone, it’s me. I just want business-as-usual. People start getting cut up, and it’s no fun anymore. I genuinely believe you’re unconnected. Christ, the way you’ve bungled through all this attests to that. But since you’re unconnected you’re free to operate. I’ve still got to work with some of these boys so I don’t want to push from my end…and as I said we stand to make loads of cash, if Cotton’s Regenerics is real and it works. We tossed his room at the Morocco and came up empty. Whatever he needed protection for was gone. Someone has it.”

“By what you say, no one in Authority does.” I was still trying to read Willieboy.

“Van Reydner’s the only person who was there that night who hasn’t turned up dead. I figure the people that mangled Cotton were at the hotel to get the Regenerics secret, too. They must have been some pissed off when he didn’t have it.”

“And then Adrian suffers a similar fate to Cotton’s. Look you want to help me, tell me who the King’s men are. Who does Cane belong to?” I didn’t want to give anything away.

“With the King’s men, you never know. He’s got people in so deep that you never recognize them till they’re pulling your liver out. Just avoid the King if you can.” Willieboy’s eyes wavered. “And Cane, he’s with Twelve Stars.”

“Twelve Stars…” I echoed, then looked away. “You’ll be watching me, won’t you?”

“Oh yeah. But I’ll be wearing a helmet. There’s a Hell of a lot of attention coming your way and I don’t want to catch any shrapnel.” The scar across his cheeks blazed crimson. “See it doesn’t kill you.”

“Can I have my gun?” I held my hand out.

“Yeah. I’d sleep with the fucker if I were you.” He retrieved it from the pile made by his armor. “I wouldn’t go home. And I’d take that makeup off. Fuck, you stand out like a sore thumb.”

“That’s funny, did you make that up—that thing about the thumb?” I slipped the gun through my belt. “I’m not going home, but I’ll be damned if I’ll give you directions. We’ll see if your operatives can keep up with me for a change. I don’t want to make it too easy for you.”

“You’re an asshole!” Willieboy sneered.

“Yes.” I gestured to Elmo and we left Willieboy in the office. His partner let us out and we drove down toward the dock. I watched for a tail. None. Of course, there had been no trace of them before.

“Where to, Boss?” Elmo worked the wheel.

“I feel crazy today, Fatso. Let’s go buy ourselves a new car.” I settled into my seat. I knew a couple of things. I had momentarily entertained the notion that Cotton had information to give out. But, by the sound of it, Regenerics was fairly common knowledge in the scientific community. The only reason I could figure they cut Cotton to pieces was to keep him quiet after the fact. Regenerics was already out of the bag, so whatever Cotton’s secret was, it was related to but not the science. I sighed, and thought of Van Reydner’s steamy eyes. I had to find her.

I stared blankly out the window at