Nightside 03 - Nightingales Lament Read Online Free PDF Page B

whole business on their own, these days. They can even answer the phone and talk snotty to our creditors."
    "Just how far up the line did these computers come from?" I said suspiciously. "I mean, are we talking Artificial Intelligence here? Are they going to want paying?"
    "Relax! They're data junkies. The Nightside fascinates them. Why don't we ask them to find something that would interest you?"
    "Cathy, I only took on the Prometheus case to keep you quiet..."
    "No you didn't!" Cathy said hotly. "You took that on because you wanted Walker to owe you a favour."
    I scowled and addressed myself to my drink. "Yes, well, that didn't actually work out as well as I'd hoped."
    "Oh God," said Cathy. "Am I going to have start locking the doors and windows and hiding under the desk again, when he comes around?"
    "I think it would be a better idea if we both stayed away from the office completely, just for a while."
    "That bad?"
    "Pretty much. Let Walker argue with the computers and see how far it gets him."
    There was a sudden flare of brilliant light, and a man fell out of nowhere into Strangefellows. He crashed to the floor just in front of the bar, his New Romantic silks in shreds and tatters. Static sparks discharged from every metal object in the bar, and the air was heavy with the stench of ozone—the usual accompanying signs of time travel. The newcomer groaned, sat up, and wiped at his bloody nose with the back of his hand. He'd clearly been through a hell of a fight recently, and just as clearly lost. I knew him, though if I met him in the street, I tried very hard not to. He was Tommy Oblivion, a fellow private investigator, though he specialised in cases of an existential nature. He lurched to his feet, leaned his back against the bar for support while he pulled his ragged silks around him, then saw me watching him. His battered face purpled with rage, and he stabbed a shaking finger at me.
    "You! Taylor! This is all your fault! I'll have your balls for this!"
    "I haven't seen you in months, Tommy," I said calmly.
    "No, but you will! In the future! Only this time I'll be ready for you, and better prepared! I'll have guns! Big guns!"
    He continued to spit abuse at me, but I couldn't be bothered. I looked at Alex, and he gestured at his two bouncers. Betty and Lucy hurried forward, glad of an excuse for a little action. Tommy made the mistake of threatening them, too, and the two girls briskly knocked him to the floor, kicked him somewhere painful, and then frog-marched him out of Strangefellows. Cathy gave me a hard look.
    "What was that all about?"
    "Beats the hell out of me," I said honestly. "Presumably I'll find out. In time."
    "Excuse me," said a voice with a cultured French accent. "Have I the honour of addressing Mr. John Taylor?"
    Cathy and I both looked round sharply. Standing right before us was a short, comfortably padded, middle-aged man in an expertly cut suit. He looked supremely elegant, not a hair out of place, and his smile was sophisticated charm itself. There was no way he could have entered the bar and approached my corner table without being seen, but there he was, large as life and twice as French. He nodded courteously to me, smiled at Cathy, and kissed her proffered hand. She gave him a dazzling smile in return. I decided not to like him, on general principles. I really don't like being sneaked up on. It's bad for my health. I gestured for the Frenchman to pull up a chair. He studied the empty chair solemnly for a moment, then produced a blindingly white handkerchief from an inner pocket and flicked the seat of the chair a few times before deigning to sit on it. I gave him my best intimidating glare, to remind him who was boss around here.
    "I'm John Taylor," I growled. "You're a long way from home, m'sieu. What can I do for you?"
    He nodded easily, entirely unimpressed. "I am Charles Chabron, for many years one of the most respected bankers in Paris. And I have come a very long way to meet with you,