I can't remember when I fell asleep, or for how long. I don't even remember dreaming. What I do know is that I awoke with a whopper of a headache, a rumbling stomach, a clammy beak and a prickly sensation of the Golden Pearl stroking my bulb with its hot fingers.
Dammit, the tide was low.
That's nothing out of the ordinary, right? Nothing to put my bulb out of shape. Wrong.
The dish had turned from a pool to a prison.
I was in a shallow pool with half of my body exposed above the surface, a position that isn't pleasant for anybody. It's not wet up there. There's no water, just a giant bubble of air. Hot air, warmed by the Gold Pearl.
A light current of the stuff swooshed over me, making my situation worse. My skin felt tight, itchy, like it didn't fit me any more.
The tip of my bulb, which must have been exposed for the longest, was stinging. I pushed my eyes above the surface, just to see, you know. All I could see was the waves splashing on the basin, a blanch white ring of ancient teeth. Above that, far away above me, was another ocean, a blue, faultless ocean.
That must be where the Gold and Silver Pearls live. I would have loved to ponder the significance of that discovery, but that stinging in my noggin was unbearable.
I flailed my tentacles to get some moisture on top, and that helped get some relief, but not enough.
Fenris had gone. My only company was a frightened little goby and some pipis. That reminded me just how hungry I was.
There weren't any cracks even nearly big enough to get through. Well, if the goby couldn't swim out, what chance did I have? Serves me right for chewing on funny keelsticks with Hapalochs I didn't know.
I flopped around the basin and yanked off a pipi or two to make a hasty breakfast while I examined my surroundings. The pool was walled off in all directions. No way out except to wait for the tide to come back in, if I didn't dry up in the process.
The goby darted to the opposite side, shaking with fright.
“Relax, guy,” I said. “I'm not that hungry. Yet.”
I flopped about a bit more, trying to roll my bulb in the cooling water. I felt pathetic and there was no way in heck I was going to be rolling around in the grit under a baking Pearl like a chump. Problem was that I was drying out as fast as I was wetting.
It was on my third splash when I had a notion.
Fenris had said we couldn't go through rocks, smart guy, a real thinker, and I couldn't squeeze through any cracks. That left only one direction.
Up.
“No time like the present,” I said, stuffing another pipi in my gob and grappling the edge.
I hauled myself up, experimented a bit and dropped back down in a hurry.
The reef, when it's under water, can be uncomfortable to clamber over. When it's dry and you're hauling yourself along it, it's like crawling across an iron-shell's edge. A shell with teeth. And a bad attitude.
I tried another time with similar results. Don't worry, I'm a fast learner.
“Damn it all!” I yelled, examining a slice on one of my suckers.
That wasn't going to cut it. Unless I wanted to scrape and slice myself to ribbons, I needed a different plan.
I looked at the goby. It looked back, still petrified. Poor little guy.
“Any ideas, buddy?”
It darted underneath one of my discarded pipi shells and quivered.
At that moment, a rogue wave crashed over the top of the reef, providing relief for my dry back and an idea for my noggin.
I grabbed as many pipis as I could find, opened them up and sucked out the insides. No point them going to waste, and I was unusually hungry. Then I took the shells and covered the underside of my arms with them, using my suckers to hold them in place.
I thanked the goby by not eating it and hauled myself up. This time I used those shells to contact with the reef. It was still sharp and painful in spots, but the pipis took the brunt of it. Another wave in the face – ah, refreshing – and a final thrust and I plopped over the other side and into the cool water.
Down, down I went, exalting in the sensation of cool wetness. Blessed relief! My suckers were intact, a few cuts here and there, not too bad, and my noggin felt sensitive to the touch, but apart from that I was feeling OK.
After a rest and another snack – gosh, I was hungry – I went in search of Tommy.
Now, you'd think it'd be a cinch to find the biggest guy in town, only it wasn't. See, Tommy was so big that getting to him meant going through his ranks. I didn't have time to walk up the chain. If Wyra had his favour, then she was a personal visitor.
I know what you're thinking and no, I didn't bother disguising myself in jewellery and acting like a hoochie. My mug ain't pretty enough and my tentacles clearly don't have that refined, supple quality. I've been sifting sand and living mitt to beak, so what did you expect?
No, the only way to get close to Tommy would be to sneak in. Risky? You bet. Taniel's would be a swim in the lettuce patch in comparison. And if Tommy was responsible for offing Wyra, just imagine what he'd do to me!
Still, I promised Wyra that I'd see her revenged and there was also the distinct possibility that Belvedere's disappearance was linked somehow. If I found Belvedere, or at least what happened to him, Coraline would have to keep me on or at least pay me for my efforts.
I swam for a while, now heading toward the shore, now heading back to the Abyss, zig-zagging my way closer and closer to Tommy's fortress. And I'm not kidding when I say it is a fortress.
You know how I told you he took out Midera? Well, no point leaving a well established fortification go untenanted. Tommy planted his own crew in there, and they were on the watch for any funny business, hence my mode of transportation.
It wasn't as tall and dominating as the Medici tower, that's in a class by itself, but it was like a giant turtle's shell. Inside had been hewn and hollowed out in such a fashion as to give maximum strength with windows at every angle to provide excellent viewing.
Just to reach it, you had to swim several lengths across an open field of clean sand, regularly kept clear so there weren't any hiding spots available. I noticed that they had peppered the ground with an assortment of coloured shells, no doubt to make it hard even to sit still and camouflage.
I was zig-zagging around the outskirts, near the rise that circled the plain, assessing the whole situation. If I had made a line for them, I'd have been stopped and interrogated before I even made the front gate. As it was, I could see the lookouts in the holes bored into the side, watching with disinterest the comings and goings of the people below.
I blended in. Easy enough, really. Just another pleb doing pleb things, carrying bits of seaweed from here to there, doing my best to mind my own business.
I skirted the main thoroughfare, slipping in among some bushy kelp and watched the fortress for a few minutes. A couple of nosy cuttlefish asked about the weather – of course, they weren't asking about the weather – and I told them in no uncertain terms where they could find the weather.
I'm not normally rude, only when I'm on the case, I can't afford to be disturbed and if I get chummy I get distracted. Bad things happen when I get distracted.
“Really,” gasped one. “That's the rudest thing I've ever heard! Have you ever heard such beastly speech?”
Said the other, “Nay, can't say that I have.”
“Nor I.”
“Nor I.”
“What are you, his echo?” I asked.
“We ought to teach him some manners!”
“Some manners, yes.”
They weren't big. I could have taken on both with three tentacles behind my bulge. I didn't need the attention so I played it cool.
I curled my mitts and puffed up, “Guys, look, you can either take a hike or tell me what that place over there is.”
I pointed to the fortress. They snickered.
“Come, now he's playing at ignorance,” said the first.
“An ignorant question asked by an ignorant Puss, indeed,” said the second.
“Don't call me ignorant.”
He drew himself up and pointed his body at an angle. The second followed.
“And why not? Are you a simpleton?”
The second rejoined, “Well? Are you a simpleton?”
“I'm not from around here. Can't blame a guy for not knowing what he can't know,” I said. “Is this the way you treat people who go wandering? Real friendly bunch you lot are.”
“A foreigner, eh? Well that's different.”
“Different, yes, if he's a foreigner,” the other said. “Sure, but it doesn't excuse his rudeness from before.”
“Alright,” I said. “I'm sorry for before. Your siphons couldn't fit that much in there, anyway.”
“Was that an apology?” said the second.
“It sure sounded like one.”
“But not quite, eh?”
“As good as we can expect from a simpleton. My, my! A Puss apologising to a pair of Sepiants! What is the Reef coming to?”
“I still want to know about that place. It looks important,” I pressed. “Who lives there?”
“Who lives there?” mimicked the second.
Man, I really wanted to clobber him.
“Who lives there, indeed! Why, none other than Tommy Two-Tone. You've heard of him, I expect.”
“No!”
“Now you are playing ignorant.”
“No, I mean, I don't believe you. Tommy lives there? The Tommy Two-Tone?”
That got him started. His tentacles flailed and his arms wobbled with each word. I tell you, listening to a cuttlefish does your eyes in.
“Yes! None other! Of course, there is only one Tommy, and that's his abode. Quite impressive isn't it? You see, that used to belong to the Midera family, a bunch of stinking octopuses – er, no offence chum – that thought they were untouchable.”
“Untouchable,” agreed the second.
“Go on.”
The first continued, “Turns out they weren't so untouchable as they thought. Now this whole area is under his control. You can see how clean it is.”
The second chimed in, “Clean, isn't it?”
“And how organised it is.”
“My, my, it's organised!”
“That's what happens when you don't have filthy octopuses running the show.”
I ignored the barb. I could give it as well as take it. Still, if they kept it up, I had half a mind to show them just what kind of damage an octopus could do. Sweeping around, I noticed that the number of cuttlefish was certainly higher here.
In fact, I had a sudden feeling that I was an urchin among the oysters.
“You're right. Looks like a nice place.”
“Sure is,” said the first.
“Sure is,” said the second, “and we'd like to keep it this way. So if you're thinking about staying on here, think again.”
“You got a problem with me, pal?” I said.
“I'm not the one with the problem.”
“You will be if you keep up that talk.”
“At least I've got a bone in my mantle. How about you?”
Cool it, Tedrick, I thought to myself, just keep cool.
The first asked, “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Just passing through. I didn't come looking for trouble and I didn't expect to find it.”
The second sneered, “Yeah, well it looks like it found you. You aren't welcome around here. So push off.”
“Says who?”
“Says me,” said the second.
“Says me,” said the first, “and says them.”
I followed his tentacle to my right. Those guys sure were good at being a decoy. Had I clobbered them when I first met them, I would've been fine. Instead, they had me blowing bubbles while their crew got into position – I was surrounded.
Cuttlefish hemmed me in from behind and, as I turned back to the duo who had so held my attention, another line formed at the front. Some carried stinger-barbs. Others carried sharpened shells. The rest were just mean-looking. All were holding their position, waiting for my next move.
Didn't I mention that bad things happen when I get distracted?
“Like I said,” I managed to say without too much nervousness coming through, “I don't want any trouble.”
“You a spy?” asked the first.
“A spy? Why the... you know, that kind of question hasn't really got an answer. If I was a spy, I'd say 'no' and if I wasn't, I'd also say 'no'.”
“A wise-guy, then.”
“Not wise enough to stay out of your way, evidently,” I said.
He flipped and postured at the other in the way those cuttlefish do. The second one turned a brilliant shade of yellow and flashed black and brown. They twiddled their tentacles and bobbed their mantels.
“It's settled, you're a spy,” said the first, dropping the whole act.
I tried some sarcasm, though I think it fell flat, “Great. That'll be a step up in the world from a sand-sifter.”
“Quiet, fella. You come along quiet and you won't get hurt, see? Does that square with your mantle?”
“Sure, I'm coming. Where are we going?”
“None of your business. Just don't try jetting off or you'll get a barb in the bulge.”
“Wouldn't dream of it, pal.”
That was the truth. They hadn't done me in, so that was good, which meant they weren't sure about me and if they weren't sure, that left an opportunity and an opportunity can be exploited.
I followed the pair, with their guard keeping pace, over the next mound and the next, closer to the Midera Fortress.
“We going in there?” I asked. “Didn't you say...”
“Shut up and keep swimming!” ordered the second.
A little further on and we were at the foot of the rock and reef that built up into the ancient creation, formed by years and years of growing reef tamed and shaped by generations into that impenetrable structure.
I looked up and saw the lookouts glaring down at me. So much for a sneaky entrance. From here on in it would take all of my wits just to stay alive. Those stinger-barbs they had were fresh and sharp and one thrust in the right spot would leave me leaking my goods into the waters.
I shuddered.
Weapons were not my thing. Its hard to keep them concealed in your membrane without hurting yourself, and if you go wandering around town holding a shank, the authorities tend to get cranky.
These cuttlefish held them as naturally as if they grew from their tentacles.
“Who goes there?”
Names were exchanged. I didn't catch all of it because, in truth, I got lost somewhere after the sixteenth syllable and mantel shimmy.
“Open up! We've got a spy!” yelled the first to the guy manning the gate.
“A spy? Where from? What kind? Who is he?”
The questions came flooding out. The answers went flooding back. I'm pretty sure the same buff was repeated at least eight times. That's the problem with cuttlefish. They don't shut up.
After I don't know how long the gatesman was satisfied with the explanation, embellished here and there with tasty gossip, a lot of it untrue, even more irrelevant, and he moved the rock aside.
“In you go, and I'm keeping an eye on you.”
I didn't get much of a chance to take in the view. All I remember was that it was dark, the floor was covered in soft sand, the walls were ornate with fancy species of algae. We moved further in and came to a great hollow, the centre of the fortress.
Inside, the structure looks like a lattice, like a giant sponge, with rods and beams pointing in every direction, making up a complex truss that kept the whole thing together.
Light harpooned in from the lookout holes all the way up there, shadowed every now and then as one of the lookouts shuffled position. Most of the crew stayed outside. I guess they knew I wasn't going anywhere. Any orifice from which I might have a chance of escaping could be blocked in a second by any one of the guards.
“Who's this?” cried a voice from the far end of the room. “Who's this you've got coming in here?”
Black and white, oversized with dark, beady eyes. It had to be Tommy. Twiddling his tentacles and fins in agitation, he swam over, taking his time, taking me in. He flashed. He flushed. He turned to the first cuttlefish.
“You crazy? You've gone and brought in a stinking octopus! A stinking octopus in my home!”
He slapped him on his mantle.
“Eh? I asked you a question. You crazy?”
“No, Tommy, I'm not crazy,” he squeaked. “We caught this one snooping outside.”
“I wasn't snooping,” I said.
Tommy slapped me across my noggin, “I didn't tell you to talk, so you'd better damn well shut your mouth.”
I knew better not to answer. He turned back.
“So you found him snooping? Where?”
“In the lettuce patch, just over the second ridge.”
“What was he doing in the lettuce patch?” he asked, eyeing me again.
“Er. Snooping.”
He caught another slap.
“You can't just go dragging strange octopuses in here because they were hanging out in the lettuce patch.”
He pleaded, “But... but he was snooping! We watched him. He went this way and that.”
“So? Maybe he's drunk.”
“He's not drunk,” he said, quickly adding. “I think he's a spy!”
“A spy? A spy for who, eh? He ain't much of a spy if he's poking about in the lettuce in full daylight, is he?”
“Er, I, er, I guess, erm... no Boss.”
“No.”
I relaxed some. Maybe this Tommy guy wasn't as unreasonable as people made him out.
“No.”
“But I thought...”
“You didn't! That's the problem. What you have done is drag an innocent Puss off the streets and into my home and inconvenienced him greatly. Get out of here!”
The cuttlefish and his mate, who had remained remarkably quiet during the grilling, skedaddled as fast as they could.
“Not you,” he said as I turned.
“Not me? I thought you said...”
“You don't get to think. In this house, I do the thinking, capisce?”
That was reasonable. My brain could do with a break.
“Capisce.”
“And you don't do the talking unless I tell you to do the talking.”
I nodded.
“Good, little squirt,” he said, swimming around me, looking at me from behind. “You keep that up and we'll get along just fine.”
He swam around the front, then behind, then in front again. He flashed black and white on each pass.
“I've seen you before. I won't say I can remember every face I've ever seen, but yours sticks out for some reason. Care to refresh my memory?”
I shrugged, feeling all at once very vulnerable.
“I didn't hear you,” he said.
“Um, I don't think we've met before.”
“That's not what I'm asking. Hmm. I think... I think it had something to do with our operations in Randadark. You ever been to Randadark?”
Of course I had. That was the result of a big case where I had to piece together the bits of a missing spud, literally. The clean-up guys got sloppy. I found parts of him all over, leading back to a clandestine smuggling operation underneath Randadark's town hall.
Memory burst from my brain and slapped me on my noggin. Randadark was one of Tommy's jobs. I had helped put away his guy heading up operations there.
“Ah, yeah. Randadark rings a bell. I was on a case, you see...”
“You're Tedrick, that's who you are! You're that damn snoop!”
I held up my mitts. He had me.
“That cost me a lot of clams, you know. The whole gig took fifteen tides just to get going and you had to come in and spoil it all.”
“I wasn't looking for a smuggling ring, I was following the trail of a dead body. I had no idea –”
My face stung from a sharp slap, “I didn't ask a question, did I? Don't talk!”
His colours were flashing black and white in time with my hearts.
“A lot of clams. A lot of time. So much time wasted because of a stupid Puss who bumbled into the wrong spot,” he said. “I should kill you here and now.”
He swam over to a bench and looked at the array of weapons. He fondled a club, then an iron-shell blade, then a stinger-barb. My head started to swim. The end was coming in a brutal rush and I, to be honest, I wasn't ready for it.
“I won't. Know why?”
That wasn't a question. Not really. My beak was shut. I wasn't going to give him a reason to change his mind so I shook my head.
“First, because despite popular opinion, I'm a reasonable guy. Second, because I'm curious. You know who I am and I know who you are. You know what I can do to you if it took my fancy, yet here you are. What I don't know is what you're up to.”
He swam back in front of me, “So, what are you doing here?”
“Your goons dragged me in,” I said. “They made it pretty clear. I had no choice.”
“Don't play dumb. I don't like dumb. You aren't drunk. You're no spy. But you are a stinking Puss and you are trespassing in my home.”
“I didn't mean to trespass...”
He smacked my arm, “I didn't tell you that you could talk!”
“Sorry.”
He wheeled, went over to the bench and snatched up the stinger-barb. He came back and held it, poised and ready.
“You talk out of turn one more time and I'll put your damn eye out,” he said. “You do it again and I'll put the other one out too! I can do a lot of damage without actually killing you.”
I closed my beak, sealed it, shoved a mental rock in front of it. No talking. Talking, forbidden. Got it.
He simmered for a second or two, then dropped the spear and roared with laughter. His skin went as white as a pearl, all over. His voice echoed about the hall and was joined with a chorus from those present.
“Man, you should see your face! Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to jab you with this thing,” he said, coming close, “but I don't need it, do I? Just so long as we understand each other. Right?”
I nodded.
“Good. Good. Now we can cut through all the buff and get to the meat of the matter. I didn't get to where I am by swallowing castings. I worked hard to stay alive, I used my brain to read others, get to know what they're thinking. People tell you one thing and think something else, you know, so the best way to figure out when something is up is to see if the words match the body language and if that matches the situation. I know when something is up and, you know what? Something is up. An octopus don't come bumbling about near Tommy's fortress unless he's crazy or got a death wish, am I right? Or is there another reason?”
In truth, I wasn't sure whether he was done with his monologue or if that was permission to speak.
He cleared it up, “Spill!”
“I came here,” I said. “Looking for you.”
He flashed black. I think he wasn't expecting the truth so easily. Well, I had nothing to hide any more. If they were going to do me in, there wasn't much I could do about it. It was time to lay down the flints.
“I believe you,” he said. “Tell me why.”
Thing about dropping flints, is you can do it all at once, or you can put them down one at a time. I prefer the latter, gives it time to sink in.
“I'm in trouble.”
“You have no idea. Keep talking!”
Next flint.
“You know a guy named Belvedere? Belvedere Medici?” I said. “He's missing.”
“That's got nothing to do with me.”
“It's got everything to do with me. I've been hired to find him.”
“He's not here,” Tommy said, sweeping the hall with his tentacles. “See for yourself. You wasted a trip.”
He was getting agitated, I could tell. I still had a few left to play in my mitt.
“If I may?”
“There's more? Oh, good,” he looked back at me, waving a mitt. “I was hoping there might be more. Please, entertain me. Make it quick before I stick you.”
I took a deep breath. Not for the first time in my life, I braced myself for imminent death. Time for the big ones to fall.
“I've got a hunch that Sassam is behind it.”
He sounded piqued, “Sassam? That dirty, bloodsucker? What's he got to do with it? More to the point, what's he got to do with me?”
I know my skin was rippling in peaks and going all sorts of colours, but that didn't matter. I had to play the flints I had.
“That's what I'm here to find out.”
“Uh-huh. Right. Well I've got no dealings with that dirt bag. If he's kidnapping octopuses, that's up to him. And if you think you can come in here and insult me by suggesting that I'm in cahoots with a filthy, no-good, lying, low-down, sand-eating... You know what? Not only did you waste a trip, you've wasted your life. Get rid of this bozo, fellas.”
They swam forward to grasp me.
I threw my second last flint down, “I'm not saying you're in cahoots. I'm saying that you had Wyra killed. And I want to know why!”
He held up a tentacle. His goons halted.
“What?”
“I want to know why Wyra was murdered. You can cut me up and stab me till I've got more holes than a sponge but I gotta know!”
And I meant it.
“You talking about Wyra? From Taniel's?”
White and black flashed like lightning across his mantle. Fuming, he came in close.
“One wave from me and my guys will cut off your third and shove it up your siphon. Now, you tell me, very carefully mind, why you'd make such an accusation.”
Here came the trump. Had to play this ultra careful like. I curled my arm back slowly and produced from my membrane the token, marked clearly with three T's, and held it up for him as confidently as I could.
“This belong to you?” I asked.
He picked it up and rolled it around in his mitts, blinking and muttering.
“Wyra... she's dead?”
I nodded, “I found her cut up last tide. Heck, half the town found her. Someone made a real show of it. You didn't know?”
“Let him go, guys. Let him go! You, come with me.”
I had no option but to follow him to a more private corner of the hall. There were exotic sea grasses and algae designed, I guessed, to provide a level of sound dampening.
His crew went back to their stations. I waited patiently while he poured two pods of darkwater. I politely waited for him to drain his before I touched mine.
It was expensive stuff, slightly spicy, heady as all get up. Cuttlefish have a different sense of taste and this certainly wasn't to my palate, but when Tommy Two-Tone pours you a drink, you drink the damn drink.
“You've got guts. I know you, Tedrick. You don't know me, but I know you. You helped put away some real slugs in your time. Kudos.”
“It was just my job.”
“No,” he said. “Your job was sifting sand. Or waiting tables. Or tending to anemone gardens, am I right? I know. That didn't suit did it? You couldn't stand not using that brain of yours. You wanted to be something better than what you were, right?”
Amazingly, he had it spot on.
“Yes. I mean, when I was a squirt, I was told to do this and do that, get a job on the plains, work hard and one day I might get to die an old spud,” I said. “That didn't sit right.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged, “I don't know. Never really thought about it.”
“You and me, we're pretty damn similar, you know that? We're of a special breed. We aren't satisfied with what we've been given, we want more,” he said. “You wanted more, and you became a detective. You did that. You made it happen.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“But something changed all that, right? What happened?”
“It's complicated.”
“Try me.”
“I got beat real bad and I lost, I lost everything. I died. At least, I think I did.”
“But you didn't give up, did you?”
“I used to believe that so long as I was breathing, I had to keep going.”
“You see? Right there. That's what sets us apart from those plebs. Life deals us all a dud deck, and it's up to us to decide how we take it. Play the deck or make a grab for another one,” he said. “It's a personal struggle. You struggled. Wyra struggled. I struggled. It's what makes us who we are.”
I remained silent.
“Who am I? Swimming in here, accusing me of killing... You probably think I'm a monster, right? You've heard all the stories. I crush bubs while they're in their eggs. I kill indiscriminately, like a Hammer. I terrorise young women and mug old spuds.”
He drained his pod and refilled it.
“It's buff, all of it. Don't believe everything you hear. Sure, I've done my fair share of killing, but only as a means to an end. I'm just a guy making my way in the world,” he said. “Think about it. Cuttlefish were second class citizens before I got here. Now everyone's working side by side. Agree?”
“I never thought about it like that.”
He nodded. For a cuttlefish, he was surprisingly stolid. There was something serene about his mannerisms, like he was above it all.
“I'll never be remembered as a peace-maker. Ha, I wouldn't want to be, that's not me. If I die without accolades but surrounded by my family, I'll be happy. Now, back to Wyra. She, like me, like you it seems, was hatched in the wrong spot,” he said. “When I found her, she was on the verge of doing herself in. Did you know that? Life had her beat. I talked reason into her. I saved her life. In return, she worked with me.”
“She worked with you?”
“She was one of the good ones, you know, one of the fighters. She had hearts of tarnished silver. You'll do well to surround yourself with fighters, Gritswell, surround yourself with the good ones.”
He shook himself down and flashed in black and white.
“I've done enough talking. You want a refill? There, now, how do you know Wyra? Come on, let me know what's what.”
I was on edge, really, but the amazingly dastardly Tommy was turning out to be a charmer. I told him everything, well, everything of importance. Coraline, Belvedere, the Favour-Bracelet, Taniel and that Unome, Wyra and finally my break-in to the brothel.
“You busted back in? Nice going you! So you're on the run, then?”
“Yeah. I'm on the run. Taniel's guys are probably trashing my joint as it is and if she's in bed with Sassam, then I gotta watch out for his goons, too,” I said. “I've nowhere to go and nothing to lose.”
“Alright. Let me get one thing clear. Once you find out who murdered Wyra, you let me know and I'll take care of the rest. You don't look like the vengeful type, anyway. You get that?” he said, staring at his pod. “Just lemme know.”
“What will you do?”
“Fuggedaboudit,” he growled.
“Ah. Got it.”
“Good. Now, as for Sassam, this news that he's murdering and kidnapping is disturbing to me. He's an overweight, low-life, half-clam bookie, always was, always will be. It ain't good to think that you're something you're not. Gets you into trouble. Causes a lot of trouble for others,” he said. “That's no good. So something has got to be done about him.”
“What can I do?” I said, speaking out of turn. “I'm just a detective.”
“Yeah, you're a detective.”
He strummed the sand with his tentacles and fondled some sea-grass while he thought.
“A detective. Yeah. Alright, listen up. So here's what you're gonna do: You're gonna head to Sassam's racetrack.”
“His racetrack?”
“Don't interrupt! You'll swim right up to that slug, poke him in the bulb and demand an answer. Ask him why he murdered Wyra, just like that. Don't say nothing about Belvedere, just Wyra.”
I scratched my head. I didn't want to say it, but that was suicide. He saved me the trouble.
“It's suicide, right?” he prompted.
“Er. Right.”
“You're wondering why I'd send you into the mitts of the guy who wants you out of the way, right? His goons already did a number on you, why would you front up?”
I nodded. Yup. One hundred percent.
“It's because that's the last thing he'd expect. It's because if you do it with all the punters watching, he can't touch you. It's because he won't have any other choice but to face up to what he's done. If he's as half-witted as I know he is, you'll rattle his bucket,” he said. “You see, if there's one thing I've learnt in my life, its to call the shots, even if they ain't yours to call. You go in hard. Press him. Make him squirm. See what comes out.”
I nodded slowly, “Er...”
“What?”
“What's going to stop his goons from dragging me out the back and smashing my bulb to pieces?”
“Nothing but your wits, pal, nothing but your wits. Trust me on this. You muscle up there with nothing on you and no backup, he's going to think you've got something on him. He can't afford to touch you. Think you can handle it? You got the guts?”
What choice did I have? I didn't feel brave, I felt nauseous. I felt bewildered. What I didn't feel, though, was defeated.
“Yeah. Sure. I haven't got anything to lose, do I?”
“Ha! That's the spirit. You're one of the good ones, you know that?” he said, adding loudly for the benefit of his entourage. “For a stinking Puss, you're one heck of a resourceful guy! We could use someone like you. How about it?”
“Thanks, Tommy, really, but I'm just trying to get back on my suckers, you know, scrape some clams together and get some respect.”
He nodded, and draped a tentacle around me while leading me back to the door, “Respect. That's what you need Ted. You can't do jack without it. You run with me, you'll get that.”
“If it's all the same, I need to do it by myself. Like you said, the struggle, it's personal.”
“Alright, but when you're up and swimming, you come back here and I'll fix you up, alright?”