The Langley Case: A Nathan Roeder Mystery

Another meeting with The Albino

I didn’t even wait for the doorman the next time I went to Enticement. I didn’t wait to see if he’d search me, I didn’t wait to see if I was on the list. I started walking past him, dragging Felicia behind me, with my satchel over my shoulder and Max trailing behind me.

The bouncer didn’t try to stop me. But he did stop Max. Again.

I didn’t wait to be announced, either. No need for the stiff drink. I’d get plenty where that came from later, but I needed to be stone sober for this meeting. I had to look the devil in the eyes and lie to his face. And I needed him to believe me.

I tried to ignore the thrumming of the music. I tried to ignore the dancing girls. I even tried to ignore the crowd of humanity; easily three times as many people as the last time I was there.

All the things I was trying to ignore became irrelevant as I passed through The Albino’s privacy screen. I pushed Felicia into the booth, then sat down next to her.

The Albino was wearing red glasses that night, and stared ahead like he was blind. I couldn’t make out his eyes, but I was pretty sure they were tracking me.

“Mr. Roeder,” he says. “I take it everything went in accordance with your plans and desires.”

“Except for a few minor issues,” I said. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

The Albino smiles. “I expect nothing less from a man of action. I see you have held up your end of the bargain. Excellent.”

I slipped off my satchel, letting it drop to the floor. “You see?” I asked.

He laughs a little. When he speaks again, there is ice in his voice. “An expression only. Welcome back, Felicia.”

“Glad to be here,” she said. She sounded as happy as a patient who’s just been told that the cancer is terminal.

I turned to her. “I thought I told you,” I said, “you’re not supposed to talk.”

She hunkered down a little bit. I think that impressed The Albino.

“Should I be charging you for sampling my wares?” He asks. He puts one long, manicured fingernail to his lips, tapping it there for a few seconds. “No,” he says. “I think you have earned all that you may have taken. I will ask no more questions in that regard, Mr. Roeder. I assume, then, that our accounts are settled?”

“Not until I have the diary, and the information you owe me,” I said.

The Albino smiles, or rather smirks. “Of course, Mr. Roeder. Naturally after I have paid my end of the deal. I have it all for you, all that you desire. But first, you must tell me something: how did you convince her to come back? I imagine you are not the type to be violent with women.”

I leaned forward. “Don’t presume,” I said, “to think you know anything about the type of man I am.”

The Albino laughs. “Did you thrash her then?” He asks. “Is my property damaged?”

“Not by me,” I said. I don’t think he got it. “Where’s the diary?”

He taps a fingernail against a contact on the table. It occurred to me then that the table was probably wired to do all kinds of things. That’s how I would have done it. “It’s on its way,” he says. “In the mean time, tell me of your adventures, Mr. Roeder.”

“What I do and how I get it done is my own business,” I said. “I may have traded favors for you, but don’t think that means I’m going to drop my pants for you just like that.”

“I must at least buy you dinner then? Is that not the proper term?”

“Yeah, you’ve got it,” I said. “Nailed right square on the head. What did you find out for me?”

“I have a detailed report,” he says. “One of my people compiled it for you. I am relatively certain that you will find the information quite,” he takes a deep breath, exhales it slowly, as if he isn’t sure what to say. Bullshit. “Enticing.”

“Super,” I said. I didn’t want to stay any longer than I had to, but at the same time I knew it was important to stretch the time out again. “You know anything about The Bicycle Man’s information sources?”

“That is a truly interesting question.” The Albino smiles and leans back. “Whatever do you mean by it, Mr. Roeder?”

“The Man seems to know a few things he’s got no right to knowing.”

“Are you asking if I betrayed you, Mr. Roeder? It would seem a silly proposition if I did. Why would I send you to do something for me, and then send someone else to kill you? You were in my club. I could have just killed you then and there. Some may even say that would have been the wiser option.”

“How’d you know someone tried to kill me?”

“I don’t know you very well, Mr. Roeder, but I do feel that I know you well enough to know that it is a recurring problem for you.”

I didn’t believe that for a second. But if he didn’t want to tell me how he knew, I didn’t want to push him. It didn’t matter. I’d just wanted The Albino to know that I’d caught his slip up. “I don’t think you told him,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t told.”

The Albino smiles. “And you believe that someone, whosoever it may be, will continue trying to kill you?”

I shrugged. “Until they succeed,” I said. “I’ve got my doubts they’ll just call it quits. It isn’t the kind of thing you go into half-assed.”

“And you suppose, I imagine, that I know who this person is.”

I pointed at him across the table, my fingers forming a gun. “That’s about the skinny,” I said. “Not that you’ll tell me.”

“What if I don’t know? How could I convince you of that?”

I leaned back. “Come on,” I said. “I thought we were respecting one another’s intelligence.”

“Fair enough, Mr. Roeder, fair enough. I will admit that I have at least an idea of who gave the information regarding your whereabouts to The Bicycle Man.”

“And that it wasn’t you.”

“If it were me, I’d have killed you when I had the first chance.”

The way he said that made me realize that part of him still wanted to kill me. Not for any desire for my death; I wasn’t sure, but the reason almost seemed to be profit. What could he gain from my death?

“Sometimes,” I decided to bait him a little bit, “I think I’m worth more dead than alive.”

The Albino laughs. “This is true of nearly everyone in our fair city, Nathan.” He pauses, leans forward, and lets his voice drop. “But you far more so than others.”

“So why not take advantage?”

I think what happened next was a rarity. I can’t know for sure, but I have my doubts that The Albino is the kind of guy to let pretense drop and just speak from the heart. At least, not very often. “I did not get where I am in my life by playing by the rules, Mr. Roeder. Nor did I get here by doing what those who consider themselves above me tell me to do. I am no man’s servant. I live in the Sprawl because I am a man of power here. I’ve no more desire to feast on the scraps of the tables up in the Tiers than they have desire for me to be there.” He sighed. “I’m afraid I’ve never been a very good lapdog.”

I never respected him more than I did at that moment. I almost picked up my satchel and left with it. But as I reached down, my hand brushed against Felicia’s leg. I’d forgotten she was there.

We were interrupted then when a young man, probably about thirteen, came into the booth. He carried the diary, a disc, and a drink for The Albino. He looked nervous, and he smelled like he was on the edge of wetting himself. The way he stood, I wondered why he didn’t want his shirt to touch his skin any more than I had to.

When the reason finally hit me, I lost all desire to take my satchel with me.

“Is our business concluded then, Mr. Roeder?”

I nodded. “I’ve got nothing more to say to you.”

He smiles. “Then by all means, enjoy the club.”

“Not my style.”

The Albino laughs. “I rather doubt that.” He smirks and gestures in my direction. I was pretty sure I saw him make eye contact. “But suit yourself.”

I knew I was being dismissed. “Keep your nose clean, Albino.”

“And you,” he says. “Grow eyes in the back of your head.”

I shrugged. “They’re on backorder.”

Outside, Max was waiting for me, just like before. I’d have felt worse if I’d known that he’d never see the inside of the club. At the time, I figured he’d see it again early the next morning.

“What do we do now?” He asked.

“First off, we copy these,” I said, showing him the diary and the disc. “Then we get ready for the morning.”

“And why the hell am I doing this?” He asked. “Why am I still helping you?”

I shrugged. “Looting, seeing the inside of that club, sticking it to the man. Take your pick.”

“Something tells me I shouldn’t be hanging out with you, Nathan.”

“I get the same feeling, Max.”

“Prick.”

“Take me somewhere to make some copies. I need to think.”

I meant drink. Honestly, I did. But thinking had to come first. Maybe I could do both.