Nightside 02 - Agents of Light and Darkness

of a man, dressed in a smart black suit. He was crouched down right next to the piano, as though trying to hide from something. And given the horrified scream still fixed on his gleaming white face, a pretty damned awful something at that. Suzie and I studied him carefully.
    “Just when you think you’ve seen everything,” Suzie said finally. “Marble?”
    “I don’t think so.” I touched a fingertip to the contorted white face, brought the fingertip to my mouth, and tasted it.
    “Well?” said Suzie.
    “Salt,” I said. “It’s salt.”
    “A statue made of salt?”
    “This isn’t a statue. I’ve seen this work before, at St. Jude’s. Someone, or more properly something, turned a living human being into salt, just like this.”
    Suzie curled her upper lip. “Kinky. Why salt?”
    “Lot’s wife looked back to see the Lord’s angels at work. And was turned to salt.”
    “Creepy,” said Suzie. “Big-time creepy. But why just this man, and not any of the others?”
    I considered the matter. “This isn’t one of the Nazis. He isn’t wearing a uniform. More likely, this was one of the people who wiped out the Nazis. Because they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, deliver the Unholy Grail to their attackers. Then… the angels turned up. The ambushers disappeared out this fire exit at speed, but this poor bastard either didn’t move fast enough, or thought he could hide here. Search his pockets, Suzie.”
    She looked at me. “Why do I have to do it?”
    “Hey, I tasted his face.”
    Suzie sniffed, put away her gun, and frisked the statue’s clothing with practiced thoroughness. A small pile of all the usual junk formed on the floor before him, while I studied the silently screaming face.
    “You know, Suzie, there’s something familiar about this guy.”
    “Nothing in the coat pockets.”
    “I’ve seen him before somewhere…”
    “Nothing in the trouser pockets… except a piece of old gum in his handkerchief. Now that is really disgusting.”
    “Got it!” I said triumphantly. “This guy braced me in Strangefellows, earlier tonight. He wanted me to work for his boss and didn’t take it at all well when I declined.”
    “Who was he working for?” said Suzie, straightening up and rubbing her hands briskly against her jacket.
    “He didn’t say. But he knew my client was a priest, even though Jude was traveling incognito. Called him a ‘pew-polisher.’ Which means this guy has to be working for one of the major players. Someone with real information as to what’s going on in the Nightside.”
    Suzie frowned. “Walker?”
    “No. This isn’t his style. Too crude. Besides, he said he’d taken all his people out, and I believe him. No, this has to be the work of some of the real movers and shakers. The Collector, Nasty Jack Starlight, the Smoke Ghosts, the Lord of Tears…”
    And then my eye fell on something on the floor, tucked under the statue’s ankle. A small black case, almost hidden in the shadows. I gestured to Suzie, and she helped me manhandle the salt statue to one side. It felt eerily light and strangely delicate, as though it might shatter and fall apart under rough handling. I pushed the black case out into the light with the tip of my shoe. It was about a foot long, eight inches wide, and its surface was a strangely dull matte black. Suzie prodded it with the barrel of her gun. Nothing happened. We both knelt down to study the case more closely. Neither of us felt like rushing things. We both had extensive experience of booby-traps. It took me a while to make it out, but I finally recognized a familiar symbol, set out in bas-relief on the case’s lid. A large initial C, containing a stylized crown.
    “The Collector,” said Suzie. “I’d know his mark anywhere.”
    “Whatever’s in the case must be important,” I said slowly. “This guy stopped here to try and open the case, and the angel got him.”
    “A weapon?” said Suzie.
    “Seems likely. But he never got a chance to use it.”
    “Do we open it?” said Suzie.
    “Give me a minute,” I said.
    I couldn’t afford to open my gift for finding things all the way, not with angels hovering in the over-world, waiting for the chance to grab me again. But I could ease my third eye, my private eye, open just a crack, just enough to find out what defenses the Collector had built into the case. I braced myself, ready to shut down all of the way if I even sensed anyone watching me, but it only took me a few seconds to