The time that I spent with the Kochak’s was enjoyable. It wasn't getting my investigation any further along though. In the end I made my excuses and departed, still none the wiser as to what exactly it was I had recovered for them, but pleased that I had actually completed one case successfully, and been paid for it too.
Heading back out, I made my way through the rainy streets to the busy thoroughfare. On the way I received one of those flashes of vision through the mists that crop up from time to time. Never before have I seen two so close together. This one was far more disturbing than any I had seen before. A ruined city flashed before me, one abandoned and its buildings crumbling. Broken windows looked in through open skeletons of houses, many of which had their collapsed roofs. Piles of rubble marked where buildings had once stood, fanning out over weed clogged streets. Worse was what else was in the streets. A pulsating, heaving mass of white flowed through it, like a flood of some kind that was more flesh than water. It rolled across the rubble, while parts of it broke free, to ooze through the ruins of buildings, only to merge once more into the main mass.
As quick as the vision came, it was gone again. The sight of it, of what it had contained, drove away the happy mood that I had left the Kochak's in. I didn't know what I had seen. I'm not sure that I wanted to. Deep down, it had touched off a revulsion in me. I felt almost unclean by it. Never before had one of the mist visions ever provoked such a response in me.
Hastening on my way, I tried to forget what I had seen. Unsuccessfully. I came to the autotrolley stop and took shelter under it. The next trolley car trundled along on the tracks a couple of minutes later. I caught it, heading back uptown. Once more I was on my way to the Blue Butterfly. I had questions to ask of Charlie that had come up since the last time I had visited. A strong drink wouldn't go remiss either, not after what I had just seen in the mists. I felt the need to drown the memory as soon as I could.
While I rode the trolley car, I took out the photograph of Miss White and studied it again. The revelation that she might not be all that she seemed in part didn't exactly surprise me, what with all that I had seen and heard so far. She was hiding things from me, true, but how could she not have aged in at least twenty years? That part did not sit quite right with me. Stare as I might at the photograph, though, I could not glean any more clues from it.
"Troubled, Mister Stone?"
I looked up, returning the photograph to my pocket as I did.
The wight who called himself Mister White had boarded the trolley at the last stop and moved down to where I sat. He slid in beside me.
"You seem remarkably well informed of my movements to be able to find me like this," I replied. I was a bit put out by the disturbance, and the fact that Mister White seemed to be keeping tabs on me. How else could he have found me so easily?
The dead man smiled at me, though the smile of a wight was not always the most pleasant of sights given the way the tight stretched flesh moved. "We like to keep our eye on you."
"I don't suppose that you are any more willing to tell me who we is than you were the last time."
"I think that you already know the answer to that question."
"Or any of the many other questions that have arisen," I added, rather sharper than I had intended. The intrusion had touched of something near to a foul mood in me. "Such as who Miss White is."
If Mister White noticed my mood, he didn't show it. "You have been digging in places I warned you it was best not to," he replied. "It is safer not to disturb the dead."
"Is that a literal or figurative answer?"
"Take it as you will, Mister Stone."
"Even if the question may help find Mister Hanes?"
"Miss White's nature has nothing to do with finding Mister Hanes."
"How can you be so certain of that? If you know as much as you allude to, how is it that you have not found Mister Hanes yet yourself?"
Mister White fell silent for a moment. He even appeared to be troubled. It seemed that I had struck some nerve with him. "We do not know what has occurred to Mister Hanes," he admitted after a while. "We had been keeping our eye on him, for the sake of Miss White. Then he simply vanished. Here one moment, gone the next. That was troubling, especially given our abilities. We are still looking for him, even now, though our methods and means are different to yours."
"Then why am I on the case?"
"We did not expect Miss White to take matters into her own hands. She sought you out, not us. What is done is done. As it is, we felt it best to let you continue on as an investigator. There is no harm in that, as long as you do not poke around where you should not, and a different perspective on the matter would also be welcome. We do not think as you do."
Said that way, it made sense. Still, it made me feel as if I was being used, and that I do not like. "How does Stefan Rex fit into all of this? He didn't seem to know anything."
Another short pause followed. I could see Mister White struggle as he considered whether to answer or not. No doubt he was used to getting information, not giving it out, and it went against his very nature to do so. "Again, another unknown. He was near Mister Hanes only contact with the outside world that we were aware of. It was another case of a matter that we believed needed a different set of eyes to look into. He truly did not know anything?"
"It does not look like it," I replied.
A slow nod came from Mister White. "That is troubling."
"You have hit a dead end, haven't you?" I asked. It was the only thing I could think of that made sense regarding Mister White having sought me out, and the conversation we were having.
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Mister White appeared troubled by that. He didn't want to admit it but, in the end, he had no choice. "As much as it pains us to say so, but yes. And you, Mister Stone? How fares your investigation?"
"Still ongoing," I told him. Having one over him helped improve my mood a touch. "I have a lead or two to chase down still. So far none that I have examined have produced anything concrete. I still remain hopeful though."
"It is as I feared." A sigh came from Mister White, one dry and cracked. "It may be that Miss White will have to prepare for the worst."
"I am not ready to admit to defeat just yet."
Mister White chuckled softly with that peculiar rattling sound that accompanied it. "Good man." He pushed himself up out of the seat. "I wish you luck, Mister Stone. And remember what I said about digging in the wrong places. It would be a shame if our understanding was to come to an end because of it."
With that part veiled threat, he started down the trolley, headed for the exit.
I sat back in my seat, folding my arms and watched him go. An interesting conversation that had been, to be sure. They, whoever they were, and I was no closer to figuring that out, seemed unable to make any headway in locating Hanes. That may have been the most interesting part of it. And, it seemed, they did not know everything that I knew. That, I rather suspected, came as a result of them observing rather than interacting. A good investigator asked questions, then asks some more. Stefan Rex was not Hanes only contact with the world outside of his job. There was his sister, and of course his hunt for a new place of residence.
I permitted myself a little smile as Mister White got off the trolley car. Yeah, I was feeling a little smug. Who could blame me after what I had been through. Let them be as mysterious as they wanted to be. This was what I did for a living and I was determined that I would find Hanes, just to show them up and show them how it was done.
As to who they were, well, there were a few vague ideas starting to percolate in my mind. I was certain that with a little discreet questioning here and there I could figure it out in time. The question was whether I wanted to. Not that it really mattered in the long run. It wouldn't influence the investigation. Call it a professional curiosity. I do like to have some ideas as to who is paying the bills.
Plus, I wasn't exactly a fan of the way that they did business. I did not like being played with in that matter. A little honesty would have made the whole thing go much smoother, and faster.
The trolley trundled its way on until it neared the Blue Butterfly. I made my way out and down to the club. Given the time of the day it wasn't open; officially. Unofficially it always is. Charlie never sleeps. He claims that he doesn't need to. There were days that I wished I could do the same. I could get so much more done if it were so. Drinking for starters. Maybe even some work.
There were only a few people inside when I entered, working on cleaning up the club and making it ready for the evening crowds to come. Over on the stage a couple of band members were practising, one on trumpet, the other on bass. They played a short section before stopping, discussing matters and starting over again. A dark-haired dwarf down on the floor was listening, adding to the conversation with observations.
Besides them, there were only a couple of patrons, over at the bar, having a quiet drink and a chat.
Charlie was, as ever, behind the bar, stacking bottles onto a shelf in front of a broad mirror. He spotted my reflection in it as I approached and he turned around to greet me.
"Mister Stone, two visits in as many days. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"I managed to catch up with Stefan Rex?" I told him, taking a seat at the bar.
"And?" Charlie asked, trying not to appear too eager.
"He will consider it."
"Fair enough. As much as could be expected, I guess. Can he still play?"
"As good as ever," I told him, "Though a little changed. As is he."
Charlie picked up a cloth from off the bar and began to wipe it down. "How so?"
"He is much as you said, one of the Departed. A revenant. He is of the view that fact may hinder him up here."
"Maybe to a few, but not here. He is Stefan Rex after all."
"That is what I told him as well."
"Anything else I can do for you, Mister Stone? I doubt that you came all this way just to tell me that."
"There is, actually," I replied. "I am looking for a young man by the name of Nathan Hanes." I took out the photograph of him that Miss White had given me and slid it over to Charlie. "I understand that he and Stefan Rex knew each other."
Charlie picked up the photograph in a scaly hand and studied it with his yellow eyes. "Dollar Hanes? Sure, I knew him."
"What can you tell me about him?"
"Not sure I know a lot," Charlie replied. "Never found out how it happened, but he and Stefan Rex hit it off. Next thing I know, the kid is up there on stage, playing alongside The King. Let me just say that the kid could play. Offered him a gig here but he wouldn't have it. Didn't think he was good enough." Charlie shrugged. "Shame really. I mean that when I say good, I really mean it. He coulda been anything. Reminded me of Slasher Kilroy when he was young."
"When did you last see him?"
Charlie frowned as he considered the question. "Let's see, must have been a month back, maybe? He came in a time or two more after Stefan Rex left, but he didn't play again. Guess he felt that he couldn't play without Rex being around."
"He had a lady friend. I was told that he met her through a friend of his. I don't suppose you know if it was here that he met her or not."
Charlie picked up the cloth again and began to clean a glass, even though it didn't need it, staring hard at it rather than look at me. "There was a young lady," he replied after a while, sounding almost reluctant to admit to the fact. "She came in a time or two."
"Was there a problem with her?"
Charlie rubbed at the glass harder, still not meeting my gaze. "Her? No, no, nothing of the sort."
"Her company then?"
Charlie set the glass and cloth down, looked aside either direction and only then leaned forward. When he spoke, it was in hushed tones. "You didn't hear it from me, but she had a couple of shadows that watched her, from a distance. Don't rightly know who they were. Don't want to know. They were heavy, that is all I can say." Until then I had never seen Charlie worried. If he could have sweated it would have been obvious. Charlie wasn't the type to scare easy. He had seen plenty in his time at the Blue Butterfly, including all manner of mobsters and crime families, and even visit from Them Above. For this pair to worry him meant they really did give off a seriously troubling vibe.
"Watching her or watching over her?"
"Watching over. Like they were there to keep her away from trouble, or trouble away from her. Or both."
"How did Mister Hanes react to them?"
Charlie tilted his head to one side and then shrugged. "I can’t be positive that he even knew that they were there. They weren't being too obvious about their presence, and, well, he didn't seem the type to spot such things, not like we are. Mind, there was one point that he almost certainly would have, as the heavies came close to intervening."
"Intervening? What for?"
"Last time the two of them were here, there was a disagreement. Nothing loud or violent, mind, but the shadows had started to move in to make their presence known."
"What happened?"
"Not sure how it began, as I didn't see that, but I saw how it ended. The lady handed an object to Dollar Hanes. He looked most upset by it. He stormed out and that was the last time I saw either of them here."
I sat back as Charlie finished. Strange that Miss White had failed to mention that fact to me. "Thanks Charlie," I said.
"You are welcome. Word of advice, Mister Stone. Don't get too caught up in this. I wouldn't want you to get tangled up with whoever they were. Would hate for you to go missing as well."
"I'll be careful," I promised.
Charlie nodded and went back to stacking bottles on the shelves. I made my way out. It was time, it seemed, to get in touch with Miss White. There were questions that I needed answering from her, and I wasn't sure how that would play out given her lack of truthfulness about what had happened.