Nightside 09 - Just Another Judgement Day

stood out.
    A tall and slender figure, with a gleaming black face and an air of aristocratic disdain, he wore a bright yellow frock coat over a powder-blue jerkin and green-and-white-striped trousers. Calfskin boots and white satin gloves completed the ensemble. He didn’t look like he belonged in Strangefellows, but then, I would have been hard-pressed to name anywhere he might have looked at home. He stalked arrogantly through the speechless crowd, and they let him pass untouched, awed by the presence of so much fashion in one person. He was too weird even for us; an exotic butterfly in a dark place. And, of course, he was heading straight for my table.
    He swayed to a halt right before me, looked down his nose at me, ignored Suzie completely, which is never wise, and struck a dramatic pose.
    “I am Percy D’Arcy!” he said. “ The Percy D’Arcy!” He looked at me as though that was supposed to mean something.
    “Good for you,” I said generously. “It’s not everyone who could bear up under a name like that, but you it suits. Now what do you want, Percy? I have some important drinking and brooding to be getting on with.”
    “But...I’m Percy D’Arcy! Really! You must have seen me in the glossies, and on the news shows. It isn’t a fabulous occasion unless I’m there to grace it with my presence!”
    “You’re not a celebrity, are you?” I said cautiously. “Only I should point out Suzie has a tendency to shoot celebrities on general principles. She says they have a tendency to get too loud.”
    Percy actually curled his lip, and made a real production out of it, too. “Please! A celebrity? Me? I . . . am a personality ! Famous just for being me! I’m not some mere actor, or singer. I’m not functional; I’m decorative! I am a dashing man about town, a wastrel and a drone and proud of it. I add charm and glamour to any scene simply by being there!”
    “You’re getting loud, Percy,” I said warningly. “What do you do, exactly?”
    “Do? I’m rich, dear fellow, I don’t have to do anything. I have made myself into a living work of art. It is enough that I exist, that people may adore me.”
    Suzie made a low, growling noise. We both looked at her nervously.
    “Your existence as a work of art could come to an abrupt end any moment now,” I said. “If you don’t leave off fancying yourself long enough to explain what it is you want with me.”
    Percy D’Arcy pouted, in a wounded sort of way, and pulled over a chair so he could sit down facing me. He gave the seat a good polish with a monogrammed silk handkerchief first, though. He shot Suzie an uncertain glance, then concentrated on me. I didn’t blame him. Suzie gets mean when she’s on her second bottle.
    “I have need of your services, Mr. Taylor,” Percy said stiffly, as though such directness was below him. “I am told you find things. Secrets, hidden truths, and the like.”
    “Those are the kinds of things that usually need finding, yes,” I said. “What do you want me to find, Percy?”
    “It’s not that simple.” He looked round the bar, looking at everything except me while he gathered his courage. Then he turned back, took a deep breath, and made the plunge. It was a marvellous performance; you’d have paid good money to see it in the theatre. Percy fixed me with what he thought was a commanding gaze and leaned forward confidentially.
    “Usually my whole existence is very simple, and I like it that way. I show up at all the right places and at all the right parties, mingle with my friends and my peers, dazzle everyone with my latest fashions and devastating bon mots, and thus ensure that the occasion will be covered by all the right media. I do so love to party, and make the scene, and generally brighten up this dull old world with my presence. There’s a whole crowd of us, you see; known each other since we were so high, you know how it is . . . There isn’t a club in the Nightside that doesn’t benefit regularly from the sheer spectacle of our presence . . . But now it’s all changed, Mr. Taylor! And it’s not fair! How can I be expected to compete for my moment in the spotlight when all my friends are cheating? Cheating!”
    “How are they cheating?” I said, honestly baffled.
    Percy leaned in very close, his voice a hoarse whisper. “They’re staying young and beautiful, while I’m not. I’m aging, and they’re not. I mean; look at me. I’ve got a wrinkle!”
    I couldn’t actually see it,