Nightside 08 - The Unnatural Inquirer

said.
    “Perhaps…”
    “Aren’t you curious?” said Bettie.
    “Of course…But it’s one thing to believe, another to know. I do try to hope for the best, but when the Holy Father himself has told you to your face that you’re damned for all time, just for being what God made you…Hope is all I have left. It’s not much of a substitute for faith, but even cold comfort is better than none.”
    “I believe God has more mercy than that,” I said. “I don’t think God sweats the small stuff.”
    “Yes, well,” said the Cardinal dryly, “you’d have to believe that, wouldn’t you?”
    “If you learn anything, let me know,” I said. “As long as the Afterlife Recording is out there, loose in the wind, more people will be trying to get their hands on it, for all the wrong reasons. There’s even a chance the Removal Man is interested in it.”
    All the colour dropped out of the Cardinal’s face, his brittle amiability replaced by stark terror. “He can’t come here! He can’t! Have you seen him? You could have led him here! To me! No, no, no…You have to leave. Right now. I can’t take the risk!”
    And he pushed both Bettie and me towards the door. He wasn’t big enough to budge either of us if we didn’t want to be budged, but I didn’t see any point in making a scene. He didn’t know anything useful. So I let him shove and propel us back to the door and push us through it. Once we were back on the street, the door slammed shut behind us, and a whole series of locks and bolts snapped into place. It seemed the Cardinal believed in traditional ways of protecting himself, too. I adjusted my trench coat. It had been a long time since I’d been given the bum’s rush. And then from behind the door came a scream, loud and piercing, a harsh shrill sound full of abject terror. I beat on the door, and yelled into the intercom, but the scream went on and on and on, long after human lungs should have been unable to sustain it. The pain and horror in the sound was almost unbearable. And then it stopped, abruptly, and that was worse.
    The locks and the bolts slowly opened, one at a time, and the door swung inwards. I made Bettie stand behind me and pushed the door all the way open. Beyond it, I could see the huge display room. No sign of anyone, anywhere. No sound at all. I moved slowly, and very cautiously forward, refusing to allow Bettie to hurry me. There was no sign of the Cardinal anywhere. And every single piece of his collection was gone, too. Nothing left but empty shelves, stretching away.
    “The Removal Man,” I said. My voice echoed on the quiet, saying the name over and over again.
    “Did we lead him here, do you think?” said Bettie, her voice hushed. The echo turned her words into disturbing whispers.
    “No,” I said. “I’d have known if anyone was following us. I’m sure I’d have known.”
    “Even the Removal Man? Even him?”
    “Especially him,” I said.

SEVEN
    The Good, the Bad, and the Ungodly

    “S o,” said Bettie Divine, sitting perched on one of the empty wooden shelves with her long legs dangling, “what do we do now? I mean, the Removal Man has just removed our last real lead. Though I have to say…I never thought I’d get this close to him. The Removal Man is a real urban legend. Even more than you, darling. We’re talking about someone who actually does move in mysterious ways! Maybe I should forget this story and concentrate on him. If I could bring in an exclusive interview with the Removal Man…”
    “You mean you’re giving up on me?” I said, more amused than anything.
    Bettie shrugged easily. She was now wearing a pale blue cat-suit, with a long silver zip running from collar to crotch. Her hair was bobbed, and her horns peeped out from under a smart peaked cap. “Well, I am half demon, darling; you have to expect the odd moment of heartlessness.”
    “If you stick with me, at least there’s a reasonable chance you’ll survive to file your story,” I said.
    “Who’d want to hurt a poor sweet defenceless little girlie like me?” said Bettie, pouting provocatively. “And besides, we half demons are notoriously hard to kill. That’s why the Editor paired me up with you for this story. Which, you have to admit, does seem to have petered out rather. I mean to say, if the Collector doesn’t have the Afterlife Recording, and the Cardinal doesn’t have it, who does that leave?”
    “There are others,” I said. “Strange Harald, the