were, often did work for the Collector. They specialized in running protection rackets, using their appalling abilities to extract regular payments from small businesses and the like. They were also very good at recovering debts. The Collector used them to persuade reluctant owners to hand over some special item that he had his eye on. Few people had the strength of will to stand against the Bedlam Boys. It shouldn’t be too difficult to track them down; they made enough noise and commotion when they were working.
The black case lay snugly in my coat pocket as Suzie and I left the assembly room. It pressed heavily against my side, almost painfully hot. Suzie was right. It was breathing.
Outside the hall of the dead, in the deserted street, we stopped and looked up. The great moon hung heavily in the sky, full and bright and a dozen times larger than it seemed outside the Nightside. Things were flying across the night sky, silhouetted against the pallid face of the moon. Dark shapes, vaguely human, with huge wingspans. As Suzie and I watched, more of the things flew past, crowding together in ever greater numbers until there were hundreds of them, darkening the night, blocking out the light of the moon and the stars.
Angels had come to the Nightside. Armies of angels.
Angels, Bedlam Boys, and Nasty Jack Starlight
T here were angels all over the Nightside, crossing the night sky in such numbers that they blocked out the stars in places. At first, people came crowding out onto the streets, laughing and pointing, marveling and loudly blaspheming, and more often than not discussing ways to profit from the new situation. And then the angels started dropping down into the Nightside like birds of prey, winged Furies in search of information and retribution, and God and the devil help anyone who dared refuse them. People were snatched up into the boiling skies, and after a time dropped screaming back into the city streets. Sometimes, only blood or body parts fell back. And sometimes, worse and stranger things were returned that were no longer in any way human. Angels are creatures of purpose and intent only, and know nothing of mercy. Soon anyone with a grain of common sense had disappeared from the streets. Suzie and I walked alone down deserted ways, and from all around came the sound of doors being locked and bolted, and even barricaded.
Like that was going to help.
“So,” Suzie said, after a while, “when are you going to use your gift, to find out where the Bedlam Boys are practicing their appalling trade these days?”
“I’m not,” I said shortly. “The last time I tried to use my gift, the angels ripped me right out of my head and hauled me up into the shimmering realms to interrogate me. I was lucky to get away with my thoughts intact, and I daren’t risk it again. We’re going to have to solve this case the old-fashioned way.”
Suzie brightened up a little. “You mean kicking in doors, asking loud and pointed questions, threatening life and property, and maybe just a touch of senseless violence?”
“I was thinking more of gathering clues, piecing together information, and developing useful theories. Though there’s a lot to be said for your way too.”
I took my mobile out of my coat pocket and called my secretary. Actually, she’s my secretary, receptionist, junior partner, and general dogsbody of all trades. I acquired Cathy Barrett on an earlier case, when I rescued her from a house that tried to eat her. I took her in, gave her a bowl of milk, and now I can’t get rid of her. To be fair, she runs my office in the Nightside far more efficiently than I ever could. She understands things like filing, and keeping an appointment diary, and paying bills on time. I’ve never had the knack for being organized. I think it’s a genetic thing. In the few months she’s been working for me, Cathy’s made herself indispensable, though God forbid she should ever find that out. She’s insufferable
The black case lay snugly in my coat pocket as Suzie and I left the assembly room. It pressed heavily against my side, almost painfully hot. Suzie was right. It was breathing.
Outside the hall of the dead, in the deserted street, we stopped and looked up. The great moon hung heavily in the sky, full and bright and a dozen times larger than it seemed outside the Nightside. Things were flying across the night sky, silhouetted against the pallid face of the moon. Dark shapes, vaguely human, with huge wingspans. As Suzie and I watched, more of the things flew past, crowding together in ever greater numbers until there were hundreds of them, darkening the night, blocking out the light of the moon and the stars.
Angels had come to the Nightside. Armies of angels.
Angels, Bedlam Boys, and Nasty Jack Starlight
T here were angels all over the Nightside, crossing the night sky in such numbers that they blocked out the stars in places. At first, people came crowding out onto the streets, laughing and pointing, marveling and loudly blaspheming, and more often than not discussing ways to profit from the new situation. And then the angels started dropping down into the Nightside like birds of prey, winged Furies in search of information and retribution, and God and the devil help anyone who dared refuse them. People were snatched up into the boiling skies, and after a time dropped screaming back into the city streets. Sometimes, only blood or body parts fell back. And sometimes, worse and stranger things were returned that were no longer in any way human. Angels are creatures of purpose and intent only, and know nothing of mercy. Soon anyone with a grain of common sense had disappeared from the streets. Suzie and I walked alone down deserted ways, and from all around came the sound of doors being locked and bolted, and even barricaded.
Like that was going to help.
“So,” Suzie said, after a while, “when are you going to use your gift, to find out where the Bedlam Boys are practicing their appalling trade these days?”
“I’m not,” I said shortly. “The last time I tried to use my gift, the angels ripped me right out of my head and hauled me up into the shimmering realms to interrogate me. I was lucky to get away with my thoughts intact, and I daren’t risk it again. We’re going to have to solve this case the old-fashioned way.”
Suzie brightened up a little. “You mean kicking in doors, asking loud and pointed questions, threatening life and property, and maybe just a touch of senseless violence?”
“I was thinking more of gathering clues, piecing together information, and developing useful theories. Though there’s a lot to be said for your way too.”
I took my mobile out of my coat pocket and called my secretary. Actually, she’s my secretary, receptionist, junior partner, and general dogsbody of all trades. I acquired Cathy Barrett on an earlier case, when I rescued her from a house that tried to eat her. I took her in, gave her a bowl of milk, and now I can’t get rid of her. To be fair, she runs my office in the Nightside far more efficiently than I ever could. She understands things like filing, and keeping an appointment diary, and paying bills on time. I’ve never had the knack for being organized. I think it’s a genetic thing. In the few months she’s been working for me, Cathy’s made herself indispensable, though God forbid she should ever find that out. She’s insufferable
Similar Books
