The Night Beat, From the Necropolis Enforcement Files (19 page)

There weren’t a lot of people on the street, either. There was a large parking lot across the street from The Pleasure Palace, well filled with a variety of cars there from the standard lowlife POS to sleek BMWs and Mercedes. Whoever was doing business here covered all the walks of life. There were also a lot of dingy buildings that had clearly seen better days, perhaps when Prosaic City had first been founded. Most of them looked closed, not at night, but in general.

Our side of the block was the same, and I noticed the storefronts around The Pleasure Palace -- most of them had “out of business” signs in the windows. I checked the other side of the street. Yep, I could spot the little signs if I squinted. Aside from The Pleasure Palace, only two businesses on the entire block were still active -- one was Killjoy’s Pawnshop, and the other was, against all the odds, The Salvation Center.

“We need to check those two out, the moment we have a chance.”

Jack nodded. “I worked this beat when I was a uniform. Never really went into any of these much, if at all, but they’ve all been here for years.”

“How about the other businesses? Here or out of business when you worked a beat?”

He looked around. “The block hasn’t changed. At all.”

“Bad sign.” We reached the front door of The Pleasure Palace. I felt absolutely nothing from it. It smelled almost like it wasn’t there, and it gave off no sense of anything. “Definitely under a spell,” I murmured. “I get nothing.”

“Huh. I…want to go in. It’s like it’s…welcoming me.”

“Worse sign.” I made him look at me. “You need to be very careful in here. It repelled Cindy and Freddy, it’s giving nothing to me, but it’s attracting you. Whatever that means in the long or short run, your soul’s in danger the moment we step in.” I wanted to tell him to wait on the street, but I knew what he’d say.

“No.” He grinned. “I can tell you want me to stay here. I’m not letting you go in alone. Two days ago, we wouldn’t have had this conversation, we’d have just walked through the door. So that’s what we’re doing to do now.”

With that, he turned the knob. Interestingly, the door opened in, not out. Jack stepped through and, praying to Yahweh and suggesting that, if he had pals around they keep an eye on us, too, I followed.

Chapter 29

Like every dive bar or club in every city or town, The Pleasure Palace had no windows. It was dark and murky, and smelled of tobacco, booze and a variety of other scents, most of them indicating squalor and decadence.

Unlike most other dives, it was huge. I thought about the rest of the block and realized it had taken over the buildings on the side that didn’t have the pawnshop. It easily stretched to the end of the city block. The walls were dark red, the lighting leaned towards the red side, and the furniture was all black. They had a theme, all right.

Music was playing, loudly. This wasn’t unusual in a dance club, but most dive bar denizens liked lower volumes. I didn’t recognize the song but I did recognize that it wasn’t recorded by any act a normal human would have heard of. The lyrics were in Latin, and they weren’t nice lyrics, either. Humans who wanted to accuse heavy metal rockers of being Satanists should have taken a listen to this -- this was truly evil music, and it bore the same resemblance to heavy metal as I did to a Pekinese.

Also unlike most dives, it was packed. There were people everywhere, mostly men but more than enough women, and they didn’t all look like they were in the Sexy Cindy Sisterhood. Some of them were in suits and had clearly come with men in suits, and probably in the Beemers and Benzes.

I sniffed deeply. Every drug known to mankind was in evidence. Every liquor and burning substance, too, other than sage and cedar. No cleansing scents were allowed in here, that was clear.

Jack and I shoved through the patrons. I couldn’t see Freddy or Sexy Cindy, but I could smell them. Because they were afraid and they were the only ones in here who were. No one looking at me and Jack gave off the smell of fear, which was proof, as if we needed it, that this place was bad to the bone. No one, no matter how cool or deadly, doesn’t feel a twinge of fear when a cop shows up, at least no normal human. But these weren’t normal humans, not by a long tail.

I grabbed Jack and headed for the other half of our team. They were huddled in a booth in the back, in the corner and in the dark. Before Jack had been born there had been a song with those lyrics. It had no relationship to our current situation, but it did remind me that I had a couple of hundred years on him. It didn’t feel like it when we were together, though. He’d been a cop longer, and he was so incredibly male that it didn’t matter.

I dragged my mind back to the situation. I could get moony about Jack later. We needed to ensure we all
had
a later.

We reached the booth and both Freddy and Sexy Cindy looked relieved. “Took you long enough,” Freddy said quietly.

I put my back against the wall and took another long look around. No one, literally no one, was paying any attention to us. “You getting what I’m getting?” I asked Jack.

“Total lack of interest in the police? Yeah. By the way, to ease your troubled mind, now that we’re in here, I don’t feel anything.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Normal revulsion, desire to burn the place down, strong wish to make arrests. Standard cop feelings. But nothing else. Other than a longing for nose plugs. This place reeks.”

“Tell me about it,” Sexy Cindy muttered. “Can we go?”

Before I could answer that, someone slithered over. Sure, he walked, but it was slithery walking, the kind of walking that only certain beings can do -- and none of them are human. He was slender, had slitted eyes that slanted up, very little nose, and a wide, smiling mouth. However, I didn’t need more than his walk to know what he was.

I moved in front of Jack and the others. Not because I was trying to make Jack think I was as tough as Black Angel Two, but because the chances of any of them knowing what to do when a lesser snake-demon attacked were slim to none.

But the snake-demon in front of me just smiled even wider. “No reason to fear,” he said, the “s” in “reason” slightly elongated. “We welcome all here.”

“I’ll bet.” I decided to just go for it. “We’re looking for a drug dealer named Anthony Tomio. Seen him lately?”

“I am Ishtrallum, the owner of this establishment, here to help you. However, I prefer to know who I’m speaking with.” Every “s” elongated. He sure wasn’t trying to hide what he was.

“Again, I’ll bet. Shockingly, I don’t plan to tell you. Tomio, you seen him lately?”

The fake smile disappeared. “No. Look, I don’t like cops in here unless they’re here for a good reason. You’re not.” He waved at Freddy and Sexy Cindy. “Take your flunkies and get out. Unless you’re all on your night off and here for a good time. In which case, happy to assist.”

“Where’s Tomio?

“Don’t know, don’t care. His tab’s paid up, and that’s all I care about in regard to a human.” Against what I would have thought possible, Ishtrallum’s eyes narrowed. “What’s this really about? Our taxes are paid up, I own the building, and there’s nothing illegal going on here.”

I managed not to bark a laugh. “There’s nothing legal going on in here, and you know it.”

Ishtrallum shrugged. “True. However, the cops leave us alone. You looking for a payoff?”

This wasn’t going exactly how I’d figured. “Uh, no. We’re looking for Anthony Tomio. And…some other beings.”

He shrugged again. “Tomio’s not here. Feel free to search the place. If you don’t want a bribe, a drink, or anything else we offer, why don’t you search fast and leave faster?”

“When did you see Tomio last?”

Watching a lesser snake-demon roll its eyes is always fun. “Look, bitch -- and I mean that being-to-being -- I’m just trying to make a living here. I do well, keep myself out of trouble, and provide what the patrons want. The cops on this beat never bothered me. Why are you?”

“Did the uniforms come in here?” Jack asked.

Ishtrallum shrugged again. “Once in a while. Usual cop stuff. They were clean if you’re on some sort of internal affairs thing. Took free drinks but no money.”

I was getting the horrible feeling Ishtrallum was telling the truth. “Why does the building have an avoidance spell on it?”

“It’s got an ignorance spell on it, actually,” he said with a touch of derision. “And, I can’t imagine why I’d want that with Necropolis Enforcement wandering around. Look, I can’t make money in the Levels.”

“Levels?” Jack asked.

“Levels of Hell. Why not?”

The snake-demon sighed. “Too damned much competition. What resident of the Levels or turned anything thinks a joint like this is decadent? I’ll tell you -- none. But here on the human plane? I’ve got the hottest spot around. I make a fortune.”

“Is that why you helped Abaddon and Apollyon enter this plane?”

It was more interesting to see a snake-demon’s eyes open wide. Ishtrallum’s were the size of golf balls. “What the hell are you saying?” He looked horrified and sounded terrified.

“I’m saying they’re here and they came through your business to get here. Separately, I might add.”

He shook his head. “Impossible. I’d know. I’m always here --” He stopped himself and narrowed his eyes. “You said they came through separately. Was one time a few months ago?”

“Yes, as far as we know.”

“And the other, night before this one?”

“Yes. Why?”

He hissed. Literally. “That slime bag. I don’t take a lot of time off, but even I need a break from success and wild living. I was off yesterday, and the last time I took time was a few months ago. Betting it coincides with the arrivals.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Jack asked.

Another hiss. “I’m happy here! I’m making money tail over fang, I have a nice house in the Estates, I’m respected as a successful businessman by the humans and as a being who flies quietly and legally under the Necropolis radar. Why would I want to muck that up by helping bring about Armageddon?” His eyes narrowed again. “But him? Oh yeah, I can see him thinking that would be a great idea.”

“Who, exactly, is this ‘him’ you’re referring to?”

“My assistant manager and junior partner, and, if you’re right, still the biggest Roman bastard there ever was.”

“Does said bastard have a name?” Jack asked.

The base of my tail did some fast calculations, and Ishtrallum and I answered together. “Nero.”

Chapter 30