Nightside 08 - The Unnatural Inquirer

with his watery eyes. “The Unnatural Inquirer authorises you to find and recover this Afterlife Recording, and its owner, by any and all means you deem necessary. Bring the DVD to us, preferably with the owner but not necessarily, and the Unnatural Inquirer will pay you one million pounds. In cash, gold, diamonds, or postage stamps; whatever you prefer. We’ll also pay you a bonus of another fifty thousand pounds, if you will agree to watch the Recording and give us your expert opinion as to whether or not it’s the real thing. The word is, you are qualified to know.”
    I nodded, neither confirming nor denying. “And if I say it’s a fake?”
    Scoop shrugged. “We’ll put it out anyway. We can always spice it up with some specially shot extra footage. We can use the same people we’ve got working on Lilith’s diaries.”
    “Wait just a minute!” I said. “I know for a fact that my mother never left any diaries!”
    “We know!” said Scoop. “That’s why we’ve got three of our best people writing them now, in the next room. They’re going to be big, I can tell you! Not as big as the Afterlife Recording, of course, which will be a license to print money…Not that we’d do that, of course. Not after the last time…You have to find this DVD for us!”
    “And I go along with you to tell the story of how you tracked it down!” said Bettie.
    I thought about it. A million pounds was an awful lot of money…“All right,” I said. “Partner.”
    Bettie Divine jumped up and down, and did a little dance of joy, which did very interesting things to her breasts. I looked back at Scoop.
    “If this Afterlife Recording should turn out to be the real thing,” I said, “I’m not sure anyone should be allowed to see it. Real proof of Heaven or Hell? I don’t think we’re ready for that.”
    “It’s the headline that’s important,” said Scoop. “That’s what will sell lots and lots of papers. The DVD…can be fixed, one way or the other. It’s the concept we’re selling.”
    “But if it is real,” I said. “If it is hard evidence of what happens after we die…the whole Nightside could go crazy.”
    “I know!” said Bettie Divine. “A real story at last! Who would have thought it! Isn’t it simply too wonderful, darling!”

THREE
    Faith, Hope, and Merchandising

    B ettie and I stepped out of the Unnatural Inquirer’s offices and shot straight back to the same street corner I’d left, appearing abruptly out of nowhere thanks to Bettie’s dimensional key. No-one paid us any attention. People appearing out of nowhere is business as usual in the Nightside. It’s when people start disappearing suddenly that everyone tends to start screaming and taking to their heels, and usually with good reason. I realised Bettie was looking at me expectantly, and I sighed inwardly. I knew that look.
    “I know that look,” I said to her sternly. “You’ve heard all the stories, studied up on the legend, and now you expect me to solve the whole case with one snap of my fingers. Probably while smiling sardonically and saying something wickedly witty and quotable. Sorry, but it doesn’t work that way.”
    “But…everyone knows you have a gift!” said Bettie, fixing me with her big dark eyes like a disappointed puppy. “You can find anyone, or anything. Can’t you?”
    “You of all people should know better than to believe in legends,” I said. “Reality is always far more complicated. Case in point: yes, I do have a gift for finding things, and people, but I can’t just use it to pinpoint the exact location of Pen Donavon or his DVD. I need a specific question to get a specific answer. But with the information I’ve got, I should be able to get a rough sense of where to start looking…”
    I concentrated, waking my third eye, my private eye, and the world started to open up and reveal its secrets to me…and then I cried out in shock and pain as a sudden harsh pressure shot through my head, slamming my inner eye shut. Some great force from Outside had shut down my gift as quickly and casually as a dog shrugging off a bothersome flea. I swore harshly, and Bettie actually retreated a couple of steps.
    “Sorry,” I said, trying to ease the scowl I could feel darkening my face. “Something just happened. It would appear that Someone or Something big and nasty doesn’t want me using my gift. They’ve shut me down. I can’t See a damned thing.”
    “I didn’t know anyone could do that,”