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Authors: Darren Shan,Darren Shan

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BOOK: Procession of the Dead
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The waitress turned and I immediately lost all interest in Cafran Reed, insurance deals and everything else. It was the woman from the stairs! She looked up from her cart, smiling mechanically, and saw me. The smile cracked. One hand dropped the knife it had been holding and it knocked over a small trifle. She recovered, carried on serving, and made her way across to my table.

Cafran beamed when she arrived. “Ama,” he said, “I’d like you to meet Capac Raimi. Capac, this is my daughter, Ama Situwa.”

“A pleasure,” I said, reaching out a trembling hand to shake hers.

“Likewise.” The instant our fingers touched I got a hard-on. She felt it all the way through my palm and smiled. “I think we’ve met before, Mr. Raimi.” Her voice was exotic, an accent I couldn’t place.

“Please, call me Capac. Yes, I think our paths have crossed. Once.”

“Really?” Cafran was excited. “What a coincidence. Where?”

“I can’t quite recall,” Ama said. “Do you, Capac?”

“I think it was at a party,” I said, smiling leanly. “Up in the city somewhere. The central region, maybe.”

“Of course.
We passed upon the stairs
, as the old song goes.”

“That’s right.”

She had a smile I wanted to frame. Her tongue had a habit of flicking past her front teeth between sentences. “We must get together again soon,” she purred.

“Just name a time and place,” I told her.

“I will.” She turned to speak to Cafran. I felt myself throbbing uncontrollably. I gripped the edge of the table and suppressed a shudder. I missed what she said to her father and the next thing I knew, she was facing me again. “Nice to see you again, Capac. I might drop by later, perhaps for dessert.”

“That would be nice.” Hell yes! Her on a plate with a sprinkling of sugar and nothing else. The image set me drooling as she continued on her rounds, favoring me with short, wicked smiles every so often. It was going to be a nightmare trying to concentrate on work, but I had to make the effort.

“That’s quite a pair of eyes you have on you,” Cafran said drily when I finally looked at him again. “It doesn’t pay to ogle a girl in front of her father.”

“Sorry, Mr. Reed, I—”

He burst into laughter. “I jest. Ama is quite an attraction. I don’t blame young men for gawking. I even take it as a compliment.”

I smiled awkwardly. “You said her name was Ama
Situwa
. Is she married?”

“No. Her mother and I went our separate ways some years ago. It was not an amicable split. She returned with Ama to her home country, took back her maiden name and kept the two of us apart.”

“Then how come… ? ” I nodded at his mesmerizing daughter.

He sighed. “Ama’s mother died four years ago. She told Ama I was a monster, so Ama found it difficult to approach me, even when she was left alone. Finally she came to judge for herself, found me innocent, and we’ve been together since, making up for those sad, lost years.”

The steaks arrived and we tucked into them. When we were finished we leaned back in our chairs and nibbled some mints. “So,” Cafran said, rubbing his stomach and smiling with contentment. “You’ve come to try and sell me insurance.”

“That’s right,” I smiled. “I’ve got some great policies lined up, at prices you’re going to sing over.”

“I very much doubt that. I’ve never paid for insurance, not since I got stung in my youth. It’s a moneymaking racket. One of the main reasons I remain in this city is its lax insurance laws where businesses are concerned.”

“And that’s largely because of The Cardinal,” I noted. “He keeps the law off the small entrepreneur’s back. Without him you wouldn’t be able to operate so freely.”

“That’s true.”

“So why not pay him back? Take out one of our options. Call it a gesture of friendship. One good turn…”

He laughed. “The Cardinal doesn’t set the city’s insurance standards with me in mind. I owe him nothing, he doesn’t owe me, and I like it that way.”

“But—”

Cafran held up a silencing hand. “There’s nothing better after a good meal than a magic trick.” He dug into a pocket and produced a stick of celery and a finger guillotine. He placed them on a white napkin in the center of the table. “This is one of my favorites. Simple, classic, timeless.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he boomed, startling me. I glanced around and noticed other customers smiling—they were used to these displays. “Cafran the Great is proud to present, all the way from anarchist France, Madame Guillotine! Severer of heads, the blade with the thirsty edge, the killer of kings, most lethal of stings, the steel which kisses and never misses. The victim goes in.” He pushed the celery through the hole in the contraption. “The blade goes up.” He pulled the small blade to the top. “The blood-hungry hags get ready to sup. The lever’s released, the blade comes down!” He slammed it down, chopping through the stalk of celery. “The head of the victim spins around.”

The spectators applauded. Cafran picked up the two pieces of the celery, held them for all to see, then handed them to the waitress to dispose of. “Now,” he said cheerfully, “do we have a volunteer?” He looked at me and reluctantly I raised an answering arm. Cafran reached across for one of my fingers.

“You know,” I said as he eased the middle finger of my right hand into the hole, “I
can
think of an excellent reason why you should take one of our policies.”

“Oh?” he asked, frowning, concentrating on the trick. “What would that be?”

“Your daughter.”

Cafran’s smile froze and he faced me slowly. “Would you mind expanding on that remark?” His voice was cold.

“If you want to keep your daughter, sign for me.”

“Is this a threat?” His fingers were clutching mine and I suddenly realized this wasn’t the best of times to play games. But it was too late to stop.

“No. I’m making you an offer. You buy insurance from me, I let you keep your daughter.”

He sneered. “I thought you were a nice young man but a rat’s whiskers always twitch sooner rather than later. But you forget, my young, vicious friend, that you cannot harm me or my daughter. The Cardinal forbids it.”

“I wasn’t talking about harming Ama.”

“Then what, to put it bluntly,
were
you fucking talking about?”

I leaned forward. “I wouldn’t harm a hair on Ama’s head, but I can and will take her away from you if you refuse to come to an agreement with me.”

“You plan to kidnap her?” He was more bemused than angry now.

“No. I’m talking about marriage, Mr. Reed.”

He stared at me uncomprehendingly. “What sort of a salesman are you?”

“One who’ll take advantage of any opportunity. I believe Ama and I are made for each other. There’s chemistry between us. She’ll love me, given time. In fact I think she’ll come to love me so much, she’ll do anything I ask. If I leave this city and head for some godforsaken corner of the Earth, she’ll follow. You’ll never see her again if I do that, Cafran.” I smiled. “Or can I call you Daddy?”

“You’re mad,” he gaped.

“Maybe. But look in my eyes. Look in Ama’s. Tell me I’m crazy then.”

He glanced across the room. Ama was watching us, an amused frown creasing her face, wondering why the act had paused in the middle. He licked his lips. “She’d never leave me. We’re too close. Even if you did marry her, she wouldn’t just abandon me.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“I am.”

I shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. You know her better than I do. Maybe she’ll stick by you, regardless of what I ask of her. But wouldn’t you like to be certain? Wouldn’t you like to
insure
her long-term loyalty?” I gave him my sneakiest smile and sat back.

His nails were digging into my finger. His right hand hovered above the top of the guillotine. The diners were looking on curiously, whispering, catching whiffs of the tension. The magic might be on the point of turning nasty and they relished the prospect of some unexpected blood.

Cafran looked up, smiled abruptly and brought his hand crashing down. I convulsed reflexively, in my mind’s eye seeing the finger cut in two, blood spurting, harpies and vampires converging to suck me dry. But the blade came to rest harmlessly at the bottom of the guillotine. The crowd gasped, then clapped as I withdrew my finger and flexed it. Cafran stood, bowed and sat again. “Now,” he said, “where are these papers you want me to sign?” A pause. A charming grin. He tapped me on the chin and winked.
“Son.”

I thanked Cafran for the meal, shook hands on the deal and took my leave. He was still smiling ruefully. Ama was waiting outside, arms crossed, serious as a judge in a hanging case. I walked over. We stood, staring silently for a minute, uncertain of ourselves. For all I knew she was one of The Cardinal’s assassins, on orders to seduce, tempt and murder one Capac Raimi. For all she knew, I was The Cardinal’s man through and through, here to make up for last night’s error. Neither of us knew if the other was a potential lover or killer. It would have been comical if our lives hadn’t been on theline.

Ama broke the silence. “Have fun the other night?”

“Fuck yes,” I said, and then we were both laughing. “I never did it on the stairs before.”

“Me neither. Kind of different, wasn’t it?”

“Pretty exciting.”

“And intoxicating. Invigorating. And incredibly, ridiculously stupid.”

“I know. Screwing like rabbits on the stairs of Party Central. If anyone had chanced upon us…”

She chewed her upper lip. “So you’re Capac Raimi.”

“And you’re Ama Situwa.”

“Ever hear of me before today?”

“No.”

“I’d heard of you.”

“Word of mouth?”

“No. I read about you in the files at Party Central.”

I hesitated, smile fading. “Can you tell me what you were doing there?” I asked.

She looked around nervously. “How close are you to The Cardinal? How loyal are you?” She watched closely for my response.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “Up to a couple of days ago I’d have said I was loyal to my last breath. He was the key to all I wanted, riches, glory, power. Now I’m not so sure. A friend’s gone missing and I think The Cardinal might be implicated, that he’s playing games with me. If pushed, I’d describe myself as loyal but wavering.”

“I broke into Party Central,” she confessed. “There’s an unguarded window on the second floor. I get up there with a rope. I’ve been sneaking in three or four nights a week, searching the secret files on the top floors. I’ve enough evidence set aside to tear The Cardinal to shreds. I could destroy him in the blink of an eye tomorrow if I wanted.”

It was a tall story, a lone woman breaking into Party Central unassisted, but I believed her. “Are you going to attack him?” I asked.

“Probably. Eventually.”

“Why? What were you looking for? Why did you go there?”

“I’ll explain later. For now, know there’s nobody behind me. I’ve done this for and by myself. If you betray him, it’s for me, a woman you don’t know, a woman you’ve screwed once on a flight of stairs, who thinks she’s in love with you, though she doesn’t know why.” She smiled sickly. “If that sounds reasonable, you’re as crazy as I am for telling you this.”

She was trembling. I was a total stranger yet she’d entrusted me with everything she had, her body, her heart, her life. Nobody had ever placed such faith in me before. I never thought anybody would. I felt weightless. Torn. For some reason I wanted to run with her madness and join her against The Cardinal, but that would mean risking everything, putting my future on the line.

“Do you know Adrian Arne?” It wasn’t an important question, but if she lied the way others had lied, I’d shop her to The Cardinal before the night was out.

“Not in person,” she answered. “But I know the name. He’s one of the people on the Ayuamarca list.”

“What?” I’d heard that name before.


Ayuamarca
. It’s what I went to Party Central to find. It’s the answer to the questions I’ve been tormented by since I came to this city. I haven’t been able to crack its secret but I know it’s the key. It’s full of names. Mine, Adrian Arne’s, Leonora Shankar’s, yours. Dozens of names and a puzzle to go with each.” She checked her watch and tutted. “I have to go in. Father needs me. A couple of the regular waitresses are off sick.”

“We have to meet again,” I said quickly, afraid she was going to vanish like Adrian once we said goodbye. “I want to hear more about this list and what you’re looking for.”

“Of course.”

“Where? When?”

“Tomorrow. The docks. Pier 15. Come about six. That’ll give you enough time to think things over. You might decide I’m too much of a risk and choose to remain true to your boss. I won’t blame you if you do. I’m asking more than any stranger should. Maybe you’ll come with Ford Tasso and a squadron of Troops.” She sighed. “I can’t stop that now. If I’ve made a mistake, I’m dead. I’m gambling on the chance that you love me—and that’s so crazy that thinking about it makes me sick.”

She left. I stood staring after her, mouth hanging open. A couple of seconds later she was back for one last question. “Do you remember your childhood?” I must have jumped because she smiled knowingly. “Neither do I,” she said. And then she was gone again, this time for good.

BOOK: Procession of the Dead
5.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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