“Where’s my son?” Oberon demanded.
Sleave frowned. “How the hell would I know? Who’s your son?”
“Robbie,” said Oberon. “His name’s Robbie.”
“Ah,” Sleave said, “you’re his dad, are you? Not much of a family resemblance, if I’m being honest.”
“Where is he?”
Sleave held up his hands. “I refer you to my earlier reply. To wit: how the hell would I know?”
“You move him around, don’t you?”
“I did,” said Sleave, “with the rest of these mooks. Every week, we’d take the kid somewhere new and guard him, feed him, put up with his nonsense and take him to see his mommy two or three times a week. But recently we were informed that our services were no longer required. Sadly, I have been made redundant.” His voice suddenly filled with hope. “I don’t suppose you have any other kids we could kidnap, do you?”
Oberon lunged and Skulduggery held him back, and Sleave laughed.
Valkyrie hunkered down in front of him. “How long were you on this particular job?” she asked.
Sleave shrugged. “Four months, maybe five.”
“So you’re not the first to keep him moving around.”
“And we’re not the last, either.”
“Who’s your boss?”
“We’re freelance. We don’t have a boss.”
“Then who hired you? Who gave you your instructions? Who did you report to?”
Sleave grinned. “The answer to all those questions is the same name, and I’ll tell you what it is – providing you let us go.”
“I’m afraid that’s not how it works.”
“Then you should probably change how it works, because you may have come in here and kicked all our asses, and some of them twice, but, from where I’m sitting, I’m the one in the position of power.”
“Careful now,” Valkyrie said. “We can always send a Sensitive into your head, and who knows what they might scramble while they’re in there.”
Sleave didn’t look too worried. “You don’t think I’ve got defences for that sorta thing? Sure, those defences don’t last forever, but I’d hold out for as long as I could, just out of spite. Let us go. All of us. Even the stupid ones. Then I’ll tell you the name of the man you’re looking for.”
With Oberon now at the other side of the room, Skulduggery straightened his tie. “We won’t do that,” he said. “But you tell us his name, and, when we’ve verified that you told us the truth, then we’ll let you go.”
“That’s more like it!” said Sleave. “See, girl, this is how you negotiate! May I stand?”
“By all means,” said Skulduggery.
Sleave stood. “I like your counter-offer, Mr Pleasant. It shows potential. But we’re not gonna be able to accept this whole being released afterwards thing. The problem is, yeah, we’re criminals, and so decidedly untrustworthy – but you’re Sanctuary folk, and so you’re absolutely untrustworthy.”
“You obviously haven’t heard,” said Valkyrie. “We’re Arbiters now. We don’t report to anyone.”
“Huh,” said Sleave. “I didn’t know the Arbiters were still a thing.”
“They weren’t,” Skulduggery said. “They are now.”
“But you’re still working with the Sanctuaries,” Sleave said, “which means you’re bound by their rules.”
“Not all of them.”
“Then you can let us go, and once you do that I’ll tell you his name. If I don’t, or if I lie, you feel free to hunt us down. Contrary to what you might be thinking, we’re really not that smart, so you won’t have too much trouble finding us.”
Skulduggery looked at Oberon, and then at Valkyrie. She shrugged.
“OK,” Skulduggery said. “We won’t arrest you.”
Another smile broke out across Sleave’s face. “Knew you were a man with an open mind. I could see it in your eye sockets.” He kicked one of his unconscious friends until they stirred. “Hey! Hey, get up. Wake the others or drag ’em out. You got two minutes.”
They stood silently while Sleave’s friends were either revived or hauled out through the back door. It took a lot longer than two minutes.
When they were gone, and only Sleave remained, he pulled on his jacket. “It was very nice to meet all of you,” he said. “Detective Pleasant, you’re a surprisingly reasonable fellow for a bunch of bones in a suit. Detective Cain, you’re a scary lady and that’s all I’ll say about that. Robbie’s dad, I don’t know anything else about you, so all I’ll say is that you just need to calm down in general and maybe people will like you more.”
Skulduggery took out his gun and aimed it at Sleave’s head. “The name.”
Sleave raised his hands slowly. “We only met him once,” he said. “He came to see us, told us what he expected, told us when and where to move, and explained how we’d be getting paid. We never saw him again, never saw anyone else working for him.”
“His name.”
“Crepuscular Vies.”
Skulduggery glanced at Valkyrie, then at Oberon.
“Never heard of him,” Oberon said.
“I’m not surprised,” said Sleave. “I didn’t have a clue who he was, either, and I still don’t. He’s tall, about the same height as you fellas, and wears a suit, bow tie and a hat. But I wouldn’t worry about what he’s wearing, because his face is … It’s just wrong. You’ll know it when you see it.”
“Nationality?” Valkyrie asked.
Sleave laughed. “Don’t you know? Irish, of course. The most evil people in the world are Irish.”
“What do you think of him?” Valkyrie asked as they waited in the diner for Fletcher to come and pick them up.
One eyebrow rose on Skulduggery’s façade. “The waiter?”
“Oberon,” she said, and took a sip of coffee. It was not good.
“He
