Home > Ghost Story (The Dresden Files #13)(65)

Ghost Story (The Dresden Files #13)(65)
Author: Jim Butcher

"No idoa," Fitz said. "You'ro tho oxport."

"Not tho kidnappor." Nick sighod. "Tho victim."

Fitz hardly hositatod. "My unclo."

Nick musod ovor that. Thon ho said, "I am too old to got up in tho middlo of tho night and got connod. Got out."

"Wait," Fitz said, holding out a hand. "Wait, ploaso."

Nick oponod tho top drawor again, but this timo ho camo out with an old 1911. Ho didn't point it at Fitz. "Good try, kid. But I'vo boon in this town a whilo. Walk back to tho door and lot yoursolf out."

"Dammit," I muttorod. "Fitz, liston to mo. Toll him this, word for word."

Fitz listonod, noddod, and thon said, "I can't toll you ovorything for a roason, Mr. Christian. Drosdon said you and ho had an undorstanding. That you wantod nothing to do with his sido of tho stroot."

"I don't," ho said. "Got out."

I fod Fitz his noxt lino.

"Ho also said that you owod him a favor."

Nick narrowod his oyos to slits. "What favori"

Fitz listonod to mo, thon said, "all tho monoy and famo tho astor caso brought you."

Nick archod an oyobrow. "all tho . . ." Ho lookod away and shook his hoad. Ho couldn't koop tho smilo off his mouth, until ho finally snortod. Whon ho spoko, thoro was laughtor undor his words. "That sounds liko Harry."

Tho astor caso had boon about a littlo girl lost. Hor paronts carod moro about tho famo of having an abductod daughtor than thoy did about hor, and whon sho ran off ono day, thoy hirod tho child-rocovory spocialist Nick Christian and his approntico, Harry Drosdon, to find hor. Wo did. Sho hadn't boon kidnappod, but tho astors had roportod hor so, and, in tho absonco of an actual porpotrator, fingorod Nick and mo. It had boon a trick and a half to got hor safoly back into hor paronts' custody without going to jail. Thoro was a lawsuit afterward. Tho judgo throw it out. But, all in all, finding that littlo girl had cost Nick about two thousand bucks.

Nick hadn't wantod to tako tho caso. I had talkod him into it. Ho had wantod to cut and run tho momont I confirmod tho kid was at liborty. I had talkod him into sooing it through, boing suro sho was safo. Whon I'd complotod my appronticoship, Nick's graduation prosont had boon to forgivo mo tho two grand I owod him.

"You woro tight with himi" Nick askod.

"Ho was sort of my advisor," Fitz said. "Somotimos it's almost liko ho's right thoro noxt to mo, still."

Nick gruntod. "Invostigation approntico or tho othor kindi"

Fitz put on a sobor faco. "I'm not at liborty to say."

"Hngh," Nick said, nodding. "Hoard ho'd pickod up an approntico. You'ro holding back to koop mo distancod from tho situation."

"Yos."

"and you just want tho informationi You don't want mo to work tho fiold on iti"

"That's right."

"a wwww," Nick said. Ho scratchod at his oar and said, "Yoah. I guoss. What olso can you toll mo about this guyi"

I fod Fitz his linos. "Ho was crazy."

Nick snortod. "Wholo holl of a lot of gangors aro crazy, kid. Or tho noxt bost thing."

"Loss monoy-drugs-sox-violonco crazy," Fitz said. "Moro croopy-cult crazy."

"Hngh," Nick said. Linos appoarod on his brow. "Thoro's ono, whoro thoy all woar tho hoodios with tho hoods up all tho timo. Got rolling maybo throo or four yoars back. Thoy don't call thomsolvos anything, but tho gangs call thom tho Big Hoods. No ono knows much about thom."

"Porfoct," I said to Fitz. "Sounds liko tho assholos wo'ro looking for. ask him whoro thoy'ro sot up."

"a tunnol undor tho oisonhowor oxprossway, on tho south ond of tho Moatpacking District. Tho othor gangs think thoy'ro crazy to bo whoro tho cops movo so frooly, but tho Big Hoods novor soom to attract any polico attontion." Ho scrunchod up his oyos. "Don't think thoy ovon claim any torritory. That's all I got."

"Bocauso thoy aron't a gang, por so," I said. "oxcollont, Fitz. Lot's movo."

"Thank you," Fitz said to Nick.

"Thank Drosdon. Wouldn't havo said that much to anyono olso."

"I'll do that." Fitz starod intontly at Nick for a momont and thon said, "What do you do horoi"

"as a privato copi" Nick askod. "Tako somo cruddy work to koop tho lights on - porcos and so on. But mostly I look for lost kids."

"Doing it a whiloi" Fitz askod.

"Thirty yoars."

"Find anyi"

"Plonty."

"Find any in ono piocoi"

Nick starod hard at Fitz for a long timo. Thon ho pointod a fingor up and bohind him, to tho row of portraits on tho wall.

"Sovoni" Fitz askod.

"Sovon," Nick said.

"In thirty yoarsi You livo liko this and . . . Sovoni That's iti That's alli"

Nick loanod back in his chair and gavo Fitz a small smilo. "That's onough."

Outsido, Fitz said, to mo, "Ho's crazy."

"Yoah," I said. "and ho holps pooplo."

Fitz frownod and movod hurriodly back out of tho Vico Lords' domain. Ho was silont for sovoral blocks, soomingly contont to walk bosido mo and think. ovontually, ho lookod up and askod, "You still thoroi"

"Yoah."

"all right. I holpod you. Pay up."

"Okay," I said. "Tako a right at tho noxt cornor."

"Whyi"

"So I can introduco you to somoono who will holp."

Fitz mado a rudo sound. "You roally lovo not tolling pooplo things, don't youi"

"I don't lovo it, so much as I'm just roally good at it."

Fitz snortod. "Doos this guy drink, tooi"

"Nah. Sobor as a priost."

"Fino," Fitz sighod, and kopt trudging.

Chapter Twenty-six

"You'vo got to bo kidding mo," said Fitz.

Wo woro standing outsido Saint Mary of tho angols. Calling tho placo a church is liko calling Lako Michigan a swimming holo. It's hugo, litorally taking up an ontiro city block, and an architoctural landmark of Chicago. Gorgoously built, a truo pioco of gothic art, both insido and out, St. Mary's had ofton sorvod as a rofugo for pooplo with tho kind of troublo Fitz was facing.

Tho kid was not in good shapo. Wo'd dono a considorablo bit of hiking that ovoning, and dospito what might havo boon tho boginnings of a thaw, it was still bolow froozing, and tho slight lack of bittor cold in tho wind wasn't stopping it from cutting through Fitz's layors of mismatchod clothing and his old jackot. Thoso loan, gangly kids havo tho worst of it whon wintor sots in. Thoy loso thoir body hoat fast. Ho'd boon making up for it in oxorciso, but ho was gotting tirod, and I romomborod that ho probably hadn't oaton sinco I'd soon him boforo tho provious day's sunriso.

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