chapter
FIFTY-ONE

I walked cautiously through the side door to the back of the store where the old cop drongles were stacked.

The rain dripped in through the ceiling, landing with an intermittent patter on a drongle roof nearby. “Hello?” I called, but my voice just echoed back, sounding strangely monotone as it shuffled around among the mechanical debris, old drongles, dust, oil, and cookie wrappers. “Just the rain and nothing more,” I said. “Now I need you guys to stay here and hide if anyone comes, all right?”

“Sure,” said the Frost Fox.

“What about a little singing?” added the Ice Jumper.

“Just not too loud,” I said as I knelt down by the Tiny Eiger. “Open your door again little fellow,” I said. And when he did, I slipped the box with the head back inside.

Then I left them and headed to the Halcyon motel.

It was only a few blocks. If Nena had killed that cop and my bribe had had no effect, they would find out from the head hack and lock her up for good. But if she was only wanted for some minor misdemeanor, they might just wipe her mind of the last day and she’d end up back at the motel.

I didn’t fancy tangling with the guys in the lobby, so when I got there I headed across the parking lot and straight to the door of her room. It was locked.

I looked around, then kicked it in. The flimsy lock gave with barely a murmur.

The room hadn’t been touched. The hole in the roof where I had jumped through was still there and the debris lay scattered across the carpet as though the moment had been frozen in time. I took out one of the head hack pictures I had of her in the drongle and wrote a note explaining that if they had wiped her memory, she would need to talk to me, and I left Gabe’s address.

If she had killed that cop, and they found out, she wouldn’t be back, anyway.

I placed the picture on the table by the bed hoping it would attract her attention without being too obvious to anyone else snooping.

I was about to leave the room when I felt a crack on the back of my head.

“Where’s my money?” said a voice.

I staggered as my vision bled away at the edges and then finally fell. I felt a hand roll me over. Above loomed the shadow of a huge dark guy. He took another swing that caught me on my jaw.

“I haven’t got any money,” I said feebly, but it wasn’t the best reply.

“You took the money. Where is it?”

“I haven’t got any money,” I found myself saying again, and he began roughly checking my pockets. He found the gun and the wallet I had taken from the police marketing guy.

“So you haven’t got my money, eh?” he said riffling through the wallet and pulling out a wad of notes.

“Take it,” I said, struggling to focus.

Then he whacked me again and I heard the sound of the crack of my jaw but felt nothing.