said Nada Neck.
‘What? What do I need Kitty Stickler in my life?’
‘You said you wanted her here.’
‘On my order, not turnin’ up like this is some village coffeehouse for the talkin’ about of flowers and bunny rabbits eh?’
‘Sorry, boss, you’ve lost me.’
‘Shiv thinks,’ whispered Shiv without looking up, ‘that Necky only plays dumb.’
Kitty started stamping her heels and everyone noticed she was in the room.
‘Kitty - to what in the devil’s plan do I owe the pleasure.’
‘Salute the floorboards huh?’ She went over to a table and tore a shocker out of the pack, lighting up. ‘“These words poison my life!” You know I nearly died today?’
‘That an inconvenience in your case?’
‘Oh ha ha you think it’s the true fun bein’ there haranguin’ slobs from that stage?’
‘Sure it’s all we talk about round here - whether yours is the true fun. If it’d be the same for those of us with movin’ parts.’
Kitty stalked up to the heavy table, gripped its corners and glared across it into Thermidor’s one living eye. ‘You’ve shot up in my estimation Eddie - like when they discovered the Brontosaurus could sit back on its ass.’
Thermidor stuck out his jaw like the tray of a cash register. ‘Well now this is real read-all-about-it factual information you’re givin’ me Kitty. A man like me just might not be able to find room for it in his life.’
‘Okay, okay.’ She sat down opposite, smoking. ‘Guy comes in real easy, gets up onstage and starts in on me with the threats etcetera. Then we got verbal abuse, playin’ the flute, flawfire, the woiks. Bullets everywhere - got a nick in my makeup, see?’
‘I can’t see nuthin.’
‘Well it hurts, Eddie.’
‘You don’t know what hurt is. Your marrow’s never seen daylight.’
‘Yeah? Well looky here Mister Been-There-Stole-the-Shirt.’ Kitty swung a long leg onto the table and pulled up her pants leg, gesturing with a cigarette. ‘See there? Bonesaw, straight the way through. Two inches height added, stuck back together, end of story.’
‘Kitty I told you not to show me that stuff. Why do I need scars in my life?’
‘It’s a real doozy,’ Shiv hissed, looking over her shoulder.
‘Jesus,’ Kitty yelped, hiding the scar, ‘how long he been standin’ behind me? Gives me the creeps.’
‘Siddown Shiv.’ Thermidor watched as Shiv slithered back to the couch. ‘Now Kitty, I hear tell you got into a conversation with the guy - everyone heard it you understand, but I need it from you.’
‘Yeah?’ Kitty drew nervously at the shocker. ‘Okay. Said his name was Atom? Adam? Somethin’. Gumshoe modality. Said he was lookin’ for Harry. Fiasco.’
‘Well that’s funny - why’d he ask you, Kitty? Got somethin’ goin’ on with Fiasco?’
‘Sure, he wishes,’ said Kitty, killing her shocker and getting up. ‘Well it’s been a fun visit Eddie. I’ve registered my complaint.’
‘You sorry I got you the gig?’
‘No no no Eddie, grateful I am but it aint too classy. And gettin’ dicks flyin’ onto the stage?’
‘Take it as a compliment Kitty. Oh and hey. You know where I might find Fiasco?’
‘Uh-uh,’ she replied at the door.
‘Now why don’t I believe you?’
‘Homo-sexial panic?’
And she was gone.
Thermidor pondered a moment. ‘So who’s this Adam Atom guy?’
‘Only guy in the PI modality with a name like that’s Taffy - Taffy Atom.’
‘That’s good, Neck. Whatta we know about him?’
‘Heard he grew a mustache on his stomach,’ hissed Shiv.
‘What about you?’ he asked Nada Neck.
‘Yeah, what he said boss, I heard that too.’
‘Uh-huh. And that’s it eh?’
‘Aint that enough?’
Thermidor leant back and regarded the two. ‘Nada Neck, you are a fine right arm but your philosophy cannot be spoken aloud without lapsing into an Australian accent. Shiv, you are a fine knifeman but you have an interest in knives which leads you into errors of judgment.’
The two shifted on their seat. Shiv would have liked to mention the boss’s weakness for a certain blond bubblehead. This he felt was inappropriate. Shiv considered that he himself was the better match. After all, Kitty was a scalpel addict and he was a blademan. He understood such joys. You haven’t lived till you’ve operated on your own arm.
‘Tell you what,’ Thermidor announced. ‘Shiv - put a tail on Kitty, see if she leads you to the boy Fiasco. Nada Neck - you find me Atom. He knows somethin’ about Vanishin’ Harry, I wanna know. Get outta here.’
‘Shiv will do good work,’ buzzed the knifeman as he and Nada Neck backed out of the room.
‘Kitty, Kitty, Kitty,’ murmured Thermidor.
Fiasco, Atom. Their bones would pop in a rendering mill before they interfered again with that pure girl.
What was the hook? The strutting, the selfishness, the sarcasm. She was the very phantom of his mother.
Even if the boss thought he was exaggerating, Transam knew what he’d witnessed. He’d got through stripping his chainsaw and that swab baby - the one no one could ever quite see - was stood there trying to get his attention. And looking out, he found there was a stranger on stage wearing this huge black coat and playing a giant flute. And as he played, something began to inflate from the end of the instrument. It was a human head, resembling exactly that of the musician, its lips attached to this end of the flute and facing its twin. Then the body began to tumble from beneath the head like a birthing calf. The feet hit the stage and the form filled out, swaying slow in the ventilation. Then the arms quickly inflated, quivering up into position, and the real guy, the first one, detached and floated out above the audience. The new man, coat and all, had taken over on the flute, and his music bobbed and drifted like the airborne figure. The floating man, uplit and shadowfreaked, was screaming as though terrified, and so was everyone else. The clientele began to fire at the ceiling, at eachother, at the musician on stage. A Barrett 82 whooped off, detaching one of the rubber chandeliers, and by the time it thumped to the deck, everyone had drawn.
The musician reacted weirdly. As the volleys
