Synaptic Manhunt (15 page)

‘Where’s the girl now?’

‘I can’t tell you.’

Jeb Stuart Ho put his face very close to that of the snan.

‘It’s just occurred to me that you might fear castration even more than death.’

The man gave a strangled shriek as Jeb Stuart Ho slowly moved his knife towards his genitals. The tip touched the material of the man’s overalls. Jeb Stuart Ho paused.

‘For the last time, where is she?’

The eyes darted from side to side in terror. Finally he gave in.

‘She’s holed up at the Leader Hotel.’

Ho jerked the sword out of the man’s foot. He fell back on the bed, groaning. Ho turned to the boy.

‘Is there a back way out of here?’

He could already hear LDC sirens outside. He didn’t want to run into Bannion so soon after the last time. The boy started to giggle hysterically. He slapped him across the face.

‘Can I get out at the back?’

He pulled himself together.

‘There’s a fire exit at the far end of the corridor. It leads out into the alley.’

Jeb Stuart Ho let himself out. He ran down the alley, away from the patrolmen who were milling in front of the Sex-O-Mat. When he reached the next main street he flagged down a cab.

‘Leader Hotel, and quickly.’

The com-screen buzzed in Nancy’s room at the Leader. Reave answered it. The room had been turned into a virtual command post. In addition to A.A. Catto, Reave, Nancy and Billy, Monk and four other hoods including Wormo hung about waiting for news. The Minstrel Boy squatted in a corner with his hands tied. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of booze. As the screen came to life it brought the face of little Sammy into focus. He looked agitated.

‘Lemme speak to Monk.’

Reave turned to Monk.

‘It’s Sammy, he wants to speak to you.’

Monk moved within range of the screen.

‘What d’you want?’

‘It’s trouble, boss.’

‘Trouble?’

‘That killer. He’s on the loose. It looks like he’s heading your way.’

‘What?’

‘I just heard over the LDC radio net. I’ve got a buddy who works as a dispatcher. The bomb at Authority Square didn’t get him. He’d already left the place. Mutt and Drucker made a play for him. He shot Drucker, and then chased Mutt into a Sex-O-Mat. It seems like he’s wrecked the place and cut Mutt up pretty bad. I figure there can’t be no way that Mutt didn’t talk.’

Monk looked grim.

‘So you think he’s on his way here?’

Sammy nodded.

‘He’s got to be.’

Monk thought for a couple of seconds.

‘How long ago did all this happen?’

‘Five, maybe ten minutes.’

‘Listen, you better get back over here.’

Sammy avoided Monk’s eyes.

‘Listen, Monk. No disrespect or anything, but I ain’t coming anywhere near the place. I had it with this job. I’m through.’

Monk snarled.

‘You’re through alright.’

He hit the console with the edge of his hand and broke the connection.

‘Chickenshit!’

He turned to Nancy and A.A. Catto.

‘You hear that?’

They both nodded. Nancy looked round the room. Everyone had fallen silent.

‘We have to get out of here.’

A.A. Catto turned to Monk.

‘How do I get out of the city? I’ve got to find a place where he can’t reach me.’

Monk looked blankly at the other hoods.

‘Don’t ask us, lady. We’ve never been out of the city in our lives.’

A.A. Catto looked round helplessly. Nobody seemed about to offer any kind of practical suggestion. Reave muttered something about calling a cab, and A.A. Catto hit him with the small riding crop that hung from her wrist. Even the blow seemed a little preoccupied. Finally the Minstrel Boy grinned.

‘You could rent an airship.’

A.A. Catto gripped the crop firmly and advanced on him.

‘Are you trying to be funny?’

The Minstrel Boy shook his head.

‘Am I in any position to be funny?’

He held up his bound hands.

‘I’m perfectly serious. I’m good at getting people out of trouble. Ask Billy and Reave.’

A.A. Catto looked doubtful.

‘Where do I get an airship from?’

The Minstrel Boy grinned.

‘Dirigible Rentals, Lighter Than Air Leasing. They’re both good. You can get their coordinates from Information.’

A.A. Catto kicked him.

‘You’re trying to make a fool out of me.’

The Minstrel Boy shrugged as best he could while tied up. Captivity seemed to be making him philosophical. A.A. Catto was about to kick him again when Reave called across from the com-screen.

‘He’s right. Both corporations exist.’

Reave had discreetly checked while A.A. Catto had been raging at the Minstrel Boy. She redirected her anger at him.

‘Then get one, dummy.’

The Minstrel Boy sank back into the corner with a sigh while Reave went about his task. He ceased to wonder how he was going to get out of the situation. He was thankful for being alive from one moment to the next. He wondered if this minute at a time lifestyle was the basis of his new-found philosophy. Reave looked up from the screen.

‘Dirigible Rentals can get a one hundred capacity here in fifteen minutes. It comes with a cinema and small intimate ballroom. The orchestra’s extra.’

‘Screw the orchestra. Can’t they get it here any quicker?’

Reave shook his head.

‘We’re paying double for that.’

‘Order it, then.’

‘I can’t.’

A.A. Catto went bright red.

‘What do you mean you can’t?’

‘You have to. You’re the client, it’s your credit card.’

Reave stood up and A.A. Catto flung herself into the chair in front of the com-set. As she was arranging the airship hire, Nancy went over to where Monk was sitting staring bleakly into the mirror of her elaborate makeup table.

‘How long do you figure it will be before Jeb Stuart Ho gets here?’

Monk toyed with one of Nancy’s gilt hairbrushes.

‘If he took a ground cab, and the traffic went his way, maybe ten minutes. Give or take a couple of minutes each way.’

A.A. Catto came across from the com-set. She’d gone white.

‘But the airship won’t be here for fifteen.’

Monk nodded.

‘So it’ll be too late.’

Monk nodded again. A.A. Catto bit her knuckles

‘What can we do?’

Nobody answered. She looked at Nancy.

‘There must be something. He’s going to kill me.

Nancy looked at Monk, and back to A.A. Catto.

‘If Monk and his boys could hold him off for five minutes or more we could go up on the roof and wait for the ship to come. We can board it from there. It’s not used, but there’s still an old mooring tower from when this used to be a fancy hotel.’

Monk, who had listened to the whole conversation in sullen silence, suddenly slammed his fist into the top of the dressing table.

‘No way!’

Nancy looked at him in surprise.

‘No way what?’

‘No way will we hold off this guy for you.’

Every eye in the room was on Monk. Reave walked over and stood beside him.

‘Why not, Monk, what’s wrong?’

The Minstrel Boy’s voice came from the corner.

‘I’ll tell you why not.’

Reave turned towards him.

‘Why?’

‘For one, the man knows if you all jump on your airship, he ain’t going to get paid, and for two, Jeb Stuart Ho is most likely to kill anyone who gets in his way.’

A.A. Catto suddenly exploded. She pushed past Reave, and started slashing at the Minstrel Boy with her riding crop.

‘I’ll kill you! You little creep! I’ve had enough! Nasty little punk! I’ll …’

Reave grabbed her, pinning her arms to her sides so she couldn’t reach her ring. Even as he was doing it he couldn’t believe himself. He’d never been so brave.

‘Come on. Calm down.’

A.A. Catto continued to struggle.

‘If I’m going to die, I’m going to kill him first.’

The Minstrel Boy had curled up in a ball in the corner. He marvelled that he still hadn’t died. Suddenly Nancy moved between him and A.A. Catto.

‘There’s no reason why anyone should die, least of all you.’

A.A. Catto stopped struggling,

‘What do you mean?’

Nancy glanced at Monk.

‘I’m sure Monk and the boys would hold off Ho if you offered them a credit card each.’

Monk suddenly looked interested.

‘How do we get them?’

‘A.A. Catto calls the bank and makes the arrangements. They could be transmitted to the desk clerk who could hold them until we’re safely away.’

Nancy didn’t neglect to make sure of her own place on the airship.

Monk hesitated. He tilted back his fedora and scratched his head. Then he looked at A.A. Catto.

‘You agree to that?’

‘Anything, anything.’

Monk nodded.

‘Okay, do it, we’re wasting time.’

Reave let go of A.A. Catto. While she began desperately to punch out coordinates, he began to direct his men.

‘Huey and Jeff, you go down to the lobby. Stay hidden. When he comes in let him get past you, then shoot him in the back.’

The two hoods nodded. He turned to the other two.

‘Wormo and Chang, us three will set ourselves up on the landing. If he gets past the other two, we’ll be there to blast him in a cross fire whether he uses the lift or the stairs. Okay?’

The two men rather reluctantly agreed. He glanced at A.A. Catto.

‘Is it fixed?’

She nodded.

‘It’s fixed.’

The hoods all trooped out. Everyone looked at Billy. Nancy scowled.

‘What about him?’

A.A. Catto turned.

‘What about him?’

Reave turned from collecting up the things they’d need.

‘Can’t he come with us?’

A.A. Catto looked petulant.

‘Why?’

‘He’s my old partner. I can’t leave him, he might be killed.’

‘Why should I do you any favours, you hurt me just now?’

Reave almost grovelled.

‘Please.’

‘Oh, very well.’

Billy looked questioningly at Reave.

‘What about Darlene? She’s up in our room with a trick.’

‘You’ll have to leave her. There isn’t time.’

Billy shrugged.

‘Okay.’

The Minstrel Boy decided to push his luck.

‘What about me?’

A.A. Catto regarded him coldly.

‘What about you?’

‘I could be useful. I’d know where you were. You’re going to have to go through the nothings. I could be amazingly useful.’

A.A. Catto shook her head.

‘You’re not going.’

‘I could save you a lot of trouble.’

Reave looked uncertain.

‘He could be right. After all he is a guide.’

A.A. Catto began to get angry again.

‘I’ve already agreed to take one of your little friends. I’m not taking him. I don’t trust him, and I don’t like him.’

Reave didn’t press the point. The four of them began to file out towards the lift. The Minstrel Boy had one last try.

‘At least untie me.’

A.A. Catto almost spat at him from the doorway.

‘Take your chances.’

The Minstrel Boy sagged back into his corner again. He heard the lift gates clang shut and the mechanism grind into action. Eventually he heard it stop as the lift reached the top floor. A few moments later, the sound of gunfire echoed up the lift shaft. It sounded as though it came from the lobby.

Jeb Stuart Ho came carefully through the door of the Leader Hotel. The lobby was silent and deserted. The screen flickered in one corner, but no one was watching it. The drunks had all left. Someone had even turned off the sound. Just inside the doorway, Ho stopped. He felt the air, almost like an animal. It seemed heavy with tension. He turned and walked quietly to the desk. The clerk seemed to have abandoned his usual position. Jeb Stuart Ho leaned over the desk and looked down. The clerk was crouching on the floor. He looked fearfully at Ho.

‘I …’

‘Why are you kneeling on the floor?’

The clerk half rose.

‘I … I was looking for something. Something I dropped.’

‘Did you find it?’

‘Find what?’

‘The thing you were looking for. The thing you dropped.’

‘I … er … no. I didn’t. It must be somewhere else.’

Jeb Stuart Ho nodded.

‘That seems very likely.’

He took two paces away from the desk in the direction of the lift. The clerk sank behind the desk again. Ho stopped and wondered from which direction the ambush that had evidently been arranged for him would come. The most likely tactic for the assassins would be to remain hidden until he was almost by the lift, and then shoot him in the back. He knew that he would have to take a chance on being right. He pulled out his gun and sword. Slowly he bent his knees until he was almost crouching.

With a snap he launched himself into the air. The leap took him most of the way across the lobby. He landed on his feet just in front of the lift gates. He spun round. Two men with guns appeared from behind the battered furniture, on each side of the room. Jeb Stuart Ho flung out his arm. The gun exploded and the sword flashed from his hand. One hood spun into the wall as the bullet smashed into his chest. The other toppled forward and fell on his knees, desperately trying to pull the sword from his throat. As his gun hit the floor it went off. The shot carved a long furrow in the threadbare carpet.

With his arms still extended Jeb Stuart Ho slowly straightened up. The clerk emerged furtively from behind the desk. When he saw Jeb Stuart Ho and the two dead men, he turned even paler. Jeb Stuart Ho slowly let his arms drop. He walked to the man with the sword sticking out of his neck. Ho rolled the corpse over until it was lying on its back. He grasped the sword hilt with both hands, placed his foot on the body’s chest, and tugged. He picked a tattered cushion out of one of the chairs and carefully wiped the blade. He dropped the cushion and looked at the desk clerk.

‘Where is A.A. Catto?’

The desk clerk’s mouth worked desperately, but no words came. Jeb Stuart Ho started to walk towards him.

‘Where is A.A. Catto?’

The desk clerk found his voice.