Stalking the Dragon (19 page)

“All right, let's go,” said Winnifred, holding the door open for Dawkins, Dugan, and Felina. “You have the strangest expression on your face, John Justin.”

“I don't think we're in Kansas anymore,” said Mallory. “Or on the way to the mayor's house, either,” he added grimly.

C
HAPTER
24

6:41
AM
–7:53
AM

“So where is this Dybbuk Place, anyway?” asked Mallory as they proceeded down obscure side streets he never knew existed.

“Just off Bleak Street, as I recall,” replied Winnifred.

“Figures,” muttered Mallory, stepping around a drunk who was snoring noisily in the middle of the sidewalk.

“We must be getting close,” said Winnifred. “We're passing one moldering Victorian monstrosity after another.”

“Those aren't Victrola monsters,” said Felina. “They're just houses.”

“Big, dark, foreboding houses,” added Gently Gently Dawkins nervously.

A banshee swooped down toward them. ”
Beware!
” it intoned, flying off just before Felina could leap up and catch it.

“I don't like this area,” said Dawkins. “I especially don't like banshees that say ‘Beware.'”

“You'd prefer ‘Nevermore'?” asked Mallory.

“I'd prefer to be back in my favorite restaurant, or in bed, hiding under the covers,” replied Dawkins.

As he spoke, a cloud of bats flew down the length of Bleak Street. One by one they landed, each in front of a different decaying mansion, morphed into black-clad men and women, and entered the houses.

“What was
that
all about?” asked Dawkins in a quavering voice.

“Just a bunch of vampires beating the sunrise after a night on the town,” said Mallory. “Nothing unusual.” Suddenly he chuckled.

“What's so funny, John Justin?” asked Winnifred.

“I was just amused by how quickly I've adjusted to this Manhattan,” said Mallory. “Suddenly it makes perfect sense that I'm walking down Bleak Street in the middle of the city, looking for Dybbuk Place and watching a bunch of vampires returning from dinner.”

Suddenly Dead End Dugan stopped walking and looked right and left with a puzzled expression on his face.

“What's the matter?” asked Mallory.

“I think this is the very spot where I was killed,” said Dugan. “The first time,” he added.

“How many times
have
you been killed?”

Dugan frowned. “Four, I think.”

“You don't know?” asked Mallory, surprised.

“Maybe five. I lost count.”

“Probably it was the bullet to the head the second time,” suggested Dawkins.

“You think you can bring yourself to join us and start walking again?” said Mallory.

“I think so,” said Dugan, not moving.

“What now?” said the detective.

“He'll start walking in a minute,” said Dawkins. “He's like the dinosaurs. It takes a long time for a thought to travel from his brain to his legs.”

Sure enough, Dugan fell into step a few seconds later. Felina led the way, leaping over every square that displayed the builder's insignia.

“Dybbuk Place,” announced Winnifred as they came to a narrow street that was very little more than an alley.

The Victorian houses were replaced by more ancient buildings, each sporting a score of gargoyles. Mallory stared at them for a moment, then tensed.

“One of them just moved,” he announced.

“Are you sure?” asked Winnifred.

He nodded without ever taking his eyes off the gargoyle.

“I could go back for my .550 Nitro Express,” said Winnifred.

“Let's not give Brody a chance to run again,” said Mallory.

“Well, I do have
this
,” she said, pulling a large handgun out of her purse.

“A .72 caliber Magnum,” said Mallory, impressed. “That thing shoots through steam engines.”

“Well, a girl can't be too careful on the streets of New York,” explained Winnifred.

“You use that against muggers?” said Mallory. “Fire it and there won't be enough of your attacker to bury, or even identify.”

“That's an occupational hazard you have if you decide to become a mugger,” she said.

“It stopped moving,” noted Dawkins, indicating the gargoyle Mallory had been watching.

“But two others are moving now,” noted Felina. She waved to them. “They're cute.”

“They're even cuter when they're standing still,” said Mallory. “Stop attracting their attention.”

“You never let me have any fun,” pouted the cat-girl.

“You think it's fun to wrestle with a three-ton gargoyle?” asked Mallory.

“I thought
you
could wrestle and I could cheer,” said Felina.

Mallory decided not to ask which side she would cheer for.

“I think that's it up ahead, John Justin,” said Winnifred, indicating a moldering black building halfway down the block.

“Why that one?” asked Mallory. “They all look equally foreboding.”

“See those empty ledges? I think even the gargoyles were frightened of what lies within, and they all flew off.”

“I was afraid you were going to say something like that,” replied the detective.

“Well,” said Winnifred, taking a deep breath, “we've come this far. We might as well go the rest of the way.”

“All right,” said Mallory, starting forward. “But keep that gun handy.”

“I don't think it works against stone gargoyles, John Justin.”

“I'm more concerned with whether it'll work against whatever scared the gargoyles away,” said Mallory.

The little party cautiously approached the old black building. When they stood in front of it, they could see the tarnished numerals “666” above the door.

“Well, if
he
got in,
we
should be able to get in,” said Mallory.

“And if he didn't?” asked Dawkins.

“We'll know that pretty damned quick.”

Mallory began advancing cautiously up the front stairs and walked across
the stoop to the door, which opened as if it sensed his approach. An ancient corpse, its nose rotted away, one eye hanging down its cheek, suddenly stood in the doorway.

“What is your business here?” it demanded in an accent Mallory couldn't identify.

“We're looking for a dragon,” said the detective. “We have reason to believe it's here.”

“We do not welcome strangers here,” said the corpse.

“My name's John Justin Mallory. Now we're not strangers anymore.”

The corpse positioned itself in the middle of the doorway. “I will not permit you to pass.”

“I'm sorry, but we're coming in.”

“Have you no fear of the dead?” demanded the corpse.

Mallory turned to Dugan. “Are you afraid of dead things?”

Dugan stepped forward. “No.”

The corpse pointed a bony finger at Dugan. “Begone, turncoat!” it intoned.

Dugan slapped at the finger, and the corpse's entire hand came away.

The corpse stared at the end of its wrist, then at Dugan, then back at its wrist. “Now what did you want to do
that
for?” it whined. “How am I going to shuffle a deck of cards now?”

“Doesn't sound quite the same, does he?” said Winnifred to Mallory.

“And that was the hand I write with,” continued the corpse. “What if someone wants an autograph?”

“Learn to write with your other hand,” said Mallory.

“You keep quiet!” snapped the corpse, pointing at Mallory with the forefinger of its remaining hand.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” asked the detective.

Suddenly the corpse pulled its hand back. “This isn't supposed to be happening,” it whined. “Just sound terrifying and mysterious, that's what they told me, and everyone will cower and run away. I'm filing an official complaint with the union steward.”

“Don't let us stop you,” said Mallory.

“I may be back to take your affidavits,” said the corpse, walking out of the building and heading down the stairs toward the street. Suddenly it
stopped and turned to Dugan. “I don't hold it against you, fella. You're just doing what they pay you to do.”

“Pay?” repeated Dugan, blinking his eyes in confusion.

The corpse reached into a fold in its ragged garment and pulled out a card. “My agent,” it said, handing it to Dugan. “Give him a call when you get a chance.”

Then it was walking down the street, and one by one Mallory's party entered the ominous black building.

Felina wrinkled her nose. “There are things here.”

“What kind of things?” asked Winnifred.

“Almost-dead things,” replied the cat-girl.

“How about the dragon?” asked Mallory. “Can you smell it?”

Felina shook her head. “There are too many ghouls and monsters.”

“How comforting,” said Mallory as an inhuman howl came to their ears.

Dawkins turned around and raced to the door. “I gotta go to the bathroom!” he yelled over his shoulder. “I'll catch up with you later.”

Mallory and Winnifred exchanged looks.

“You didn't really expect him to be any use here, did you?” she said.

“He'd have been another distraction,” said Mallory. “Another target.”

“Do you like spiders?” asked Felina suddenly.

“Not especially,” said Mallory.

“That's too bad, John Justin,” said the cat-girl. “It's really a shame. Maybe you could try to like them just a little.”

“Why?” he asked apprehensively.

She smiled and pointed to a doorway. He looked where she'd indicated, and found himself confronting a spider the size of a buffalo.

“Winnifred, you got your gun out?” asked Mallory, never taking his eyes off the spider.

“I think shooting it will just make it mad,” she said, but she pulled the Magnum out of her purse anyway.

“It looks hungry to me,” said Mallory as the spider slowly began approaching them. “Mad would be better.”

Winnifred aimed a shot between the spider's eyes. The bullet careened off and buried itself into a wall.

“What a dumb way to die!” muttered Mallory.

Winnifred fired off two more shots, with no effect.

“Damn!” said Mallory. “Hasn't anyone in this Manhattan ever heard of the square-cube law?”

“Oh, shit!” said the spider, echoing Mallory expletive. “You
had
to say that, didn't you?”

Its body slowly sank to the floor as its spindly legs were suddenly unable to support its enormous weight.

“I was fine until you reminded me!” moaned the spider.

“Have you ever heard a spider speak English before?” asked Winnifred.

“I don't suppose it's any stranger than a spider weighing two thousand pounds,” replied Mallory. He took a tentative step toward the spider. “Where's the dragon?”

“Oh, God!” said the spider. “Don't tell me there's a spider-eating dragon sneaking up on me!”

“I'm looking for one this size,” said Mallory, demonstrating with his hands.

“Why should I help you?”

“Because we're not leaving until we find it, and the sooner we leave, the sooner you can forget the square-cube law and lift your weight on those puny legs again.”

“There's a twisted but compelling logic in that,” admitted the spider. “Why do you want the dragon?”

“She's due in the ring at Eastminster this afternoon,” said Mallory.

“I'll have to think about it.”

“Think about this,” said Mallory. “If you don't tell me, I'll have her big brother help search the building.” A pause. “Her
very
big brother.” Another pause. “He
likes
spiders.”

“All right,” said the spider. “You win. The dragon and the man with the horns are here. I let them in—for a consideration, of course.”

“What room?”

“I have no idea,” said the spider. “I was too busy eating the consideration.”

“Chocolate marshmallow cookie, shaped like an elephant?” suggested Mallory.

“How did you know?”

“I'm a trained detective.” He gestured to Winnifred and the others. “Okay, let's go.”

“Watch out for the gorgon,” said the spider.

“We will.”

“And the gryphon, and the five-legged snake, and the sea serpent.”

“Sea serpent?” repeated Winnifred. “
Here?
”

“In the bathtub,” said the spider. “Now go away so I can start forgetting.”

“Forgetting is easy,” offered Dugan. “It's remembering that's hard.”

They found the main staircase and climbed up to the second floor. Mallory could hear something breathing, something
big
, in the first room they came to. He couldn't tell what it was, but he was very glad the door was closed.

“Felina, can you catch a scent yet?” asked the detective.

“I can smell all kinds of things, John Justin,” replied the cat-girl. “Big things, little things, dead things, almost-dead things, hungry things…”

“How about a dragon?”

“Thank you, John Justin,” she said. “I'll have one on toast.”

“Do you smell one?”

“Yes, John Justin.”

“Is Brody with it?”

She sniffed the air. “Yes.”

“Then we've got them!”

“No, John Justin.”

“Of course we do,” said Mallory. “We're on the second floor. Her wings are vestigial, and Brody must weigh three hundred pounds. He can't jump out the window and she can't fly out.”

“It doesn't matter, John Justin,” said Felina.

“Why not?”

She smiled a very feline smile and pointed to the shadows just beyond him.

“It was very nice knowing you, John Justin,” she said. “I think it's probably time to desert you now.”

C
HAPTER
25

7:53
AM
–9:02
AM

A very strange figure slowly emerged from the shadows. Mallory could hear its harsh breathing before he could see its outline. Gradually it took shape, as if its disparate parts were just coming together at that moment. It stood almost nine feet tall and had four long, sinewy arms sprouting out of each side of its torso. Its legs bent, but they were not jointed like those of any human or animal Mallory had ever seen.

The head was a large oval, with a single, piercing blue eye, a five-inch prehensile nose not unlike an elephant's trunk, and a red slit for a mouth. It seemed androgynous, but Mallory thought of it as a male, simply because of its height. There were two snakes and a trio of rats in the corridor; the instant they saw the new arrival they raced for the staircase.

Winnifred aimed her pistol at the creature's chest. Dugan seemed unimpressed, but then, nothing impressed Dugan. Felina began assiduously licking a forearm.

“Why have you intruded upon my privacy?” demanded the creature, his mouth barely able to form the words, his voice almost a growl.

“Is this your house?” said Mallory, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“It is—and you are uninvited.”

“We're detectives, and we're looking for someone else who is uninvited.”

“What is that to me?” said the creature.

“You don't seem to want visitors,” said Mallory. “We'll remove them from your premises.”

“Why shouldn't I just kill you now, and then find the other intruders and do the same to them?”

“Because there are twenty-seven building violations that I've spotted so far,” said Belle suddenly, “and I am connected to the courthouse even as we speak. If you lift a finger against the gorgeous hunk who's been talking to
you, I'll have the judge issue an order to demolish this pile of bricks before sundown.”

The creature stared at Mallory. “Your left lung is speaking to me,” it noted.

“I'd believe it if I were you,” replied Mallory.

“I think it's bluffing,” said the creature, taking another step forward.

Winnifred kept her gun trained on it.

“Have you got a place to spend the night if it's not bluffing?” said Mallory.

“I have not left this house in two centuries.”

“Then why take the chance?” said Mallory. “Let us look for the man we're after. If we find him, we'll remove him from the premises; if not, we'll leave without him. Either way, we'll be gone and your house will still be standing.”

The creature stared at him for a full minute, then nodded his head once. “You may look.”

“Thank you,” said Mallory.

“In fact, I will help you. It is a very large house, and some of the rooms are not in this dimension.”

“Thanks, again.”

“Have you a name?”

“Mallory. And this is Colonel Carruthers, Dead End Dugan, and Felina.”

“And I am Fernando Grazi.”

“That's a very human name,” noted Mallory.

“Why shouldn't it be?”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Do you judge everyone you meet by their appearance?” asked Grazi.

“Pretty much,” admitted Mallory.

“That's strange,” said Grazi. “You do not strike me as a fool.”

“You
did
threaten to kill us,” said Mallory.

“He
can't
kill me,” said Dugan helpfully.

“Most of us,” Mallory amended.

“And does no man ever defend his property against armed intruders?” asked Grazi.

“You've got a point,” admitted Mallory. He paused, then asked: “Why have you stayed inside for two centuries?”

“Because you are not the only man who distrusts or fears what is unfamiliar to him. This house became my refuge shortly after General Washington drove the British out of Manhattan Island. I thought the country was at peace, but for the past few years I keep hearing the sound of gunfire in the night. Have the British returned?”

“No,” said Mallory. “They've never come back. Well, not since 1812, anyway.”

“Then who is our new enemy?”

“We are.”

“Revolution?” asked Grazi.

“Crime,” said Mallory.

“You are not encouraging me to leave my house.”

“You're safer here,” agree Mallory.

A door creaked open and an inhuman head glared out at them, growled something unintelligible, and vanished back into the recesses of its darkened room.

“
Possibly
you're safer,” amended Mallory.

“Let us begin our search,” said Grazi. “Who are we looking for?”

“The main thing we want is a dragon, eleven inches at the shoulder. There'll be a man with him, a big burly guy with a couple of horns growing out of his head.”

“I notice you have no difficulty calling
him
a man,” noted Grazi.

“You have a point,” admitted Mallory.

“Can we begin?” asked Winnifred.

“Yes,” said Grazi.

“Just a minute,” said Mallory. He turned to Dugan. “Go back down the stairs and wait by the front door. Nobody leaves until I say so. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, get going.”

“Follow me,” said Grazi as Dugan headed for the staircase. He walked down the corridor with surprising grace, given his structure, then stopped before a door. “My library,” he announced, opening the door and leading them into the room, which was filled with old, musty volumes.

“A lot of Shakespeare,” noted Mallory.

“And Chaucer,” said Winnifred. “Given your taste for British writers, I'm surprised you don't have any Dickens.”

“Who was he?” asked Grazi.

“You truly don't know?” she said, surprised.

“If he wrote after 1800, I have no way of knowing about him,” replied Grazi.

“If we find the dragon here, I'll send you a set to thank you for your help,” said Winnifred.

“I'd appreciate that,” said Grazi. “These are all fine writers, but one can get tired of even the same fine writers after more than two hundred years.”

He then led them to a bedroom where the furniture floated a foot above the ground, the mirror showed an endless array of animals that had never existed on Earth, and the window looked out onto a brilliant yellow sky filled with exploding blue stars.

“Ninth dimension,” he explained.

“It's very disorienting,” remarked Winnifred.

“The fourteenth is worse,” said Grazi.

“How?” asked Mallory dubiously.

“Cause follows effect, you smell colors and see music, and the Galactic Court repealed the law of gravity by a vote of eight to three.”

They spent the next three-quarters of an hour going through every room in the mansion, checking closets, armoires, trunks, every place that could possibly accommodate Brody and Fluffy, but they came up empty.

“I guess we had some false information,” said Mallory as they came back to the head of the stairs. “I'm sorry to have bothered you.”

“It's been so many decades since I had any company,” said Grazi. “I wonder…”

“Yes?”

“When your case is over, would you and the Colonel like to come by one evening for a game of whist?”

“We'd be honored,” said Winnifred.

“And you won't forget to bring something by this newcomer—this Dickens?”

“I won't forget.”

“I hate to rush off, but we still have a dragon to track down,” said Mallory.

“Good luck,” said Grazi.

“We're going to need it. We're running short on time.”

Mallory, Winnifred, and Felina went down the stairs and walked to the front door.

“Nothing's come or gone through here, right?” said Mallory as they approached Dugan.

“Right,” said Dugan. “I obeyed your orders, and sent them out the back way.”

“Explain!” snapped Mallory.

“You said nothing could leave through the front door, so when they tried, I stopped them and told them they had to use the servants' door in the kitchen.”

“Told
who
?”

“The man with the dragon,” answered Dugan.

“I don't suppose the man told you where he was going?”

“Yes, he did,” said the zombie.

“Where?” demanded Mallory.

“Out,” replied Dugan.

Mallory glared at him for a long moment. “You don't know how lucky you are that you're already dead,” he said at last.