Nightside 08 - The Unnatural Inquirer

junkman. Flotsam Inc.; their motto: We buy and sell anything that isn’t actually nailed down and guarded by hell-hounds. And there’s always Bishop Beastly…But admittedly they’re all fairly minor players. Far too small to think they could handle a prize like the Afterlife Recording. They’d have sold it on immediately; and I would have heard. You know, it’s always possible Pen Donavon could have realised how much trouble he’d let himself in for and destroyed the DVD.”
    “He’d better not have!” said Bettie, her eyes flashing dangerously. “The paper owns that DVD, no matter what’s on it.”
    I looked at her thoughtfully. “If it is real…are you curious to see what’s on it?”
    “Of course,” she said immediately. “I want to know. I always want to know.”
    “So you’ll stick with me? Until we find it?”
    “Of course, darling! Forget about the Removal Man. It was just an impulse. No; we’re on the trail of something that could shake the whole Nightside if it is real. And you know what that means? I could end up covering a real story at last! Do you know how long I’ve dreamed about covering a real story, about something that actually matters? We can’t let this end here! You’re the private eye, you’re the legendary John Taylor; do something!”
    “I’m open to suggestions,” I said.
    My mobile phone rang. I answered and was immediately assaulted by the acerbic voice of Alex Morrisey, calling from Strangefellows. As always, Alex did not sound at all happy with the world, the universe, and everything.
    “Taylor, get your arse over here at warp factor ten. A certain Pen Donavon has just turned up in my bar, looking like death warmed over and allowed to congeal. He’s clutching a DVD case like it’s his last life-line, hyperventilating, and crying his eyes out because he thinks the Removal Man is after him. He appears to be suffering from the sad delusion that you can protect him. He says you’re the only person he can trust, which only goes to show he doesn’t know you very well. So will you please come and get him because he is scaring off all my customers! Most of whom have understandably decided that they don’t want to get caught in the inevitable cross-fire. Did I mention that I am not at all happy about this? You are costing me a whole night’s profits!”
    “Put it on my tab,” I said. “I can cover it; I’m on expenses. Sit on Donavon till I get there. No-one talks to him but me.”
    I put the phone away and smiled at Bettie. “We’re back in the game. Pen Donavon has turned up at Strangefellows.”
    Bettie clapped her hands together, kicked her heels, and jumped down from the wooden shelf. “I knew you’d find him, John! Never doubted you for a moment! And we’re finally going to Strangefellows! Super cool!”
    “You’ll probably be disappointed,” I said. “It’s only a bar.”
    “The oldest bar in the world! Where all the customers are myths and legends, and the fate of the whole world gets decided on a regular basis!”
    “Only sometimes,” I said.
    “Is it far from here?”
    “Right on the other side of town. Fortunately, I know a short cut.”
    I took out my Strangefellows club membership card. Alex handed out a dozen or so, in a rare generous moment, and he’s been trying to get them back ever since. Not that any of us are ever likely to give them up. They’re far too useful. The card itself isn’t much to look at. Just simple embossed pasteboard, with the name of the bar in dark Gothic script, and below that the words You Are Here, in blood-red lettering. I pulled Bettie in close beside me, and she snuggled up companionably. I still wasn’t used to that. It had been a long time since I’d let anybody get this close to me. This casual. I liked it. I pressed my thumb firmly against the crimson lettering on the card, and it activated at once, throbbing and pulsing with stored energy. It leapt out of my hand to hang on the air before me, turning end over end and crackling with arcane activity. Bright lights flared and sputtered all around it. Alex had paid for the full bells and whistles package. The card expanded suddenly to the size of a door, which opened before us. Together, Bettie and I stepped through into Strangefellows, and the door slammed shut behind us.

    I put the card back in my coat-pocket and looked around. The place was unnaturally still and quiet, empty apart from a single drunk sleeping one off, slumped forward across