10

 I never made a habit of going to the warehouse often, once, maybe twice a month. I hated the place, and yet I was back, twice in a week. The place still stank of Marv. I knocked on the sheet of scrap metal and waited for Dole to answer.

 “Who is it?” his booming voice called from inside echoeing a couple of times over.

 “Who the f**k do you think it is? Open the door.”

 A click and jangle of metal, and the door was open. Dole stood aside and let me in. He didn’t have an apron on, instead he stood in a vest and brown trousers.

 “Whatchu looking for anyway, Boss?”

 “None of your business, Dole. Keep watch out front will ya?” I walked over to the table and had a sense of déjà vu, the smell, the sight of Marv’s posessions scattered over the table’s suface. I silently thanked Dole for his organisation, he kept the possessions of those he tortured filed away somewhere, where though, I didn’t want to know. I began pushing things around, picking the pieces of paper up, “How can one guy carry so much s**t?”

 I picked up one piece of paper, a tinge of brown with a few tears at the edge. Black ink was neatly written across the document. It was a receipt, Marv had bought the services or a scribe. I sighed, yet another bag of questions. I now needed to find out who this scribe was. The receipt told me Marv’s scribe worked at ‘Baxter’s’, I had been there a few times myself and was familiar with some of the scribes there. Some pieces of paper were blank, some had names written on them, not full names just as they were known on the streets, like Breaches or Prospect had theirs. A ball of frayed string, a pen to dip into a pot of ink and a simple corncob pipe. Regardless of how useful they appear to be, I took the lot and stuffed it in my pockets.

 I turned to leave, Dole was standing just outside of the open door, his wide arms were resting across his thick chest.

 “Find what you’re lookin’ for?” he asked stepping back into the doorway as I rubbed my neck.

 I rose my eyebrows at him telling him he should know better.

 “Ok, by the by, thought I’d let you know. Someone stopped by askin’ to see Marv’s things. Tried to offer some coin for -”

 “Who?” I interupted Dole who took his arms off his chest to stroke his beard.

 Dole shrugged his beefy shoulders. “A Jűr,” he said.

 “What? Are you sure?”

 His bald head nodded, the sun gleamed off it. “Very. Said he was looking for something, asked about you in fact.”

 “What did he ask?” my heart was racing faster than my mind, the Jűr’s still out there and he’s on the same trail as me, either that or he’s still looking for the diary, or maybe �" I fingered the cylinder in my pocket.

 “Asked if there was a funny drawin’ on anythin’ Marv had. He also asked where you headed next.”

 “And you told him what?”

 Dole looked insulted. “I told him if he could pull a donkey outta my crack I’d tell him.” He laughed a low chuckle which shook the bush on his jaw.

 “And what about the drawing?”

 “Told him the same thing, he wasn’t gonna get an answer from me, Boss.”

 “Did he show you this drawing?”

 “Yeah, it was like a circle only crossed out.” He snorted with laughter. “Thought he made a mistake at first, until he shoved it in ma face.”

 I didn’t hear the last of Dole’s sentence; my mind was set firmly on the Jűr. He was looking for the cylinder. I couldn’t understand what he wanted with it, why he needed it. I wandered if he knew what it contained.

 I nodded to Dole and left him in his slaughterhouse.

 The sun had started shining as the clouds thinned and moved on to rain on some other poor souls. The chill of the wind still made me shiver though as it blew through the narrow streets around me. I walked down Hillary Rise; the origin of this name has never been explained to me, however, for some reason an image of a lady of the night named Hillary came to mind.

 My mind was set firmly on the Jűr, questions about his whereabouts and intentions swirled around.  How did he know about the cylinder? The symbol? Everything? Did he have the diary? He could have, maybe that’s how he found the symbol. The thought of this Jűr on my tail unnerved me. Again my fingertips fumbled the metal surface in my pocket.

 “Cal?”

 I stopped and my head dropped in exasperation. “What?” I turned to see my Mouse.

 “You don’t look at all good. Better than the last time I saw ya, though.”

 “Yeah thanks for that Mouse. Saved my life back there.”

 “I know, and I’m expecting some kind of reward for ma troubles,” he said with a cheeky grin.

 I couldn’t help but laugh. “You will Mouse, what can I do for you in the meantime though?”

 “Uh... it’s a bit embarrassin’,” he looked at his feet as he spoke.

 “Mouse, what is it?” a genuine concern in my voice. I had known my Mouse for a few years now; he’d never been embarrassed about anything so far.

 He sighed. “We got robbed.”

 “And?” I shrugged. “You kids rob each other every other day.”

 “I know. But it’s different this time.” The boy in front of me looked up and into my eyes; I forgot how young he was sometimes.

 “Ok,” I said and nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

 “Follow me, you’ve gotta see it.” My Mouse turned his back on me and began to walk away, his hand were in his pockets.

 I followed.

 For around ten minutes we walked in silence. Mouse’s head was still down. The sky was getting darker, not from the setting sun but the clouds that gathered overhead. I hated this time of year, it was always so gloomy.

 I knew exactly where we were going. We headed down Archer’s Walk, passed Nevin Place and to Nekauna. I knew Nekauna quite well, had a few run-ins with this place, a young importer named Buck tried to swindle a bad deal out of me, it didn’t turn out well for the inexperienced youngster.

 Mouse took me to a little corner though. At the base of a building were doors, double made of light wood and weathered quite badly. Mouse knelt down and knocked on the door in a strange way, ‘-knock-knock, knock-knock-’, he repeated this three times before the unmistakable sound of metal grinding against metal came from the other side, no doubt the sound of a lock being opened.

 A smell rose from the hatch. It was the kind of smell you got from a shoe you had worn all day �" moist and stale. Whatever lived down there had been there for days without a lot of fresh air. I looked up and saw a wind chime hanging from a nail in the brick wall.

 Mouse beckoned me in while he looked around for watching eyes.

 I climbed down into the hole. The steps croaked under my weight. Sunlight came into through the open doors and showed me what I was walking in to. It was what could only be described as a den.

  The room was dark, large and dusty. The ceilings were low and made of concrete, the floor also, although you couldn’t tell; blankets and beds were scattered everywhere. Children sat in corners, their eyes gleamed in the little light that came through the windows just above ground level; they sat in huddles with one another, quiet and still with complete focus on me, the man who had just walked into their home.

 “It’s ok, he’s with me,” Mouse called out, his voice echoed.

 Most of the children turned back to face one another, a few kept staring.

 “Mouse, where are we?” I asked, bending over to fit.

 “This is home for us, Cal. What, you thought we slept on the streets?” he sat in the corner and I followed.

 “Well.... yeah.”

 Mouse laughed.

 It was true, I had never given much thought as to where Mouse had slept, or any child born to a w***e or orphaned. A shot of guilt hit me.

 “So, what can I do?” I asked, sitting on the cold floor with my legs crossed.

 “As I said, we’ve been robbed before, plenty of times. But it’s different this time.”

 “In what way?”

 “In that they take everything. Everything.” I voice came from behind me, it was slightly deeper than Mouse’s, I guessed this boy was older, maybe early teenage years. The voice walked around and stood beside Mouse, hands in pockets and a flat cap on. He had hard cheeks for a boy of his age, and a few scars to boot.

 “And you are?” I asked with slight irritation, I was tired still, and aching. This low ceiling didn’t help and the floor was already too hard for my arse. I didn’t like the tone of this boy anyway, I couldn’t place it; maybe it was the way he looked at me.

 “I’d be careful how you talk down here, Man.” He leant close and stared into my eyes.

 “He’s here to help, Sonny, relax.” Mouse tugged on Sonny’s sleeve.

 “Just because you trust him, doesn’t mean I have too.” Sonny stood back but still eyed me.

 “You either trust me or you don’t, Sonny.” I made sure I didn’t break eye contact.

 “Anyway �" Cal? Cal?” I looked at Mouse. “Cal, as Sonny say’s, they take everything.”

 “Isn’t that the point of a robbery?” I asked.

 “Cal, they take our clothes, follow us back to our hideout and take everything from us there. This is our fourth hideout in two weeks.”

 I looked around to the children in the dark. They had lost interest in me now and were back to talking, playing dice or sleeping.

 “Do you recognise who’s doing it?”

 Mouse shook his head.

 “How many of them are there?”

 “Three. Always three,” Sonny spoke, he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “They’re big, broken faces. That’s all we know.”

 -knock-knock, knock-knock-

 Sonny walked over the doors.

 “Is there any kind of routine to how they rob you?”

 “It’s happening, it’s happening.” A girl shouted from the doors.

 “Where?” Sonny asked.

 The girl gasped for breath, it was obvious she had run to them. “Selmond Place.”

 I turned to Mouse. “Bring clothes. Meet us there.” I got up us much as I could and hurried over to the doors. “Let’s go,” I said to Sonny.

 We burst out into the gloomy day and started running.

 For a young teenager, Sonny sure could run. He lost his cap along on the way but it didn’t bother him. My shoulder began to feel a dull, throbbing pain.

 I stopped and put a hand across Sonny’s chest to stop him; he batted it away.

 “What are you doing?”

 “Shh �" keep your voice down.” I peaked around the corner and saw three large men towering over four children �" two boys and two girls. I turned back to Sonny. “Look, there’s nothing we can do about it right now, there’s three of them and the robbery has already happened.”

 “So, what are we going to do?” Sonny looked at me with disgust, whispering in a harsh tone.

 “Follow them,” I whispered back.

 Mouse sprinted toward them, clothes flying in his hand.

 I looked around the corner again, the three men were done. “Listen, I’m going to follow them, you’re going to give the clothes to the children. Don’t take them home; just sit in the street, talk, play, whatever.”

 The three robbers walked around a corner, sack in hand, leaving the four children in their undergarments.

 “Give it a minute.” I turned up my collar and walked around onto the street. I walked past the four children, leaving them shivering in the cold. I turned the same corner as the men. Just as I had thought, they were leaning against the wall. I kept walking and rounded another corner.

 It was another ten minutes before they got bored and decided to move on and from there, I followed.

 It must have been thirty minutes before they stopped. I looked around the corner from where I had been hiding. The robbers weren’t too clever, throughout the entire journey, not once had they looked over their shoulder to make sure they weren’t being followed which was perfect for me. Around the corner stood a building; about eight stacks tall. The front was covered in grimy glass; a few of the windows were broken. Two Watchers stood outside the entrance, their thick arms folded across their wide chests, a serious and hard look on their faces. There was no way I’d get past those, so, I stood and waited.

 The clouds had started to clear and the sun even shone a little bit, though I was standing in shadows so it was cold. I took out my pipe, packed some tobacco in the bowl and lit. The smooth smoke filled my lungs and warmed my chest.

 Standing and keeping watch reminded me of what I apparently used to do for a living, hunting people, watching them, learning their habits and routines, finding contacts. I sighed. Seemed lately I had been doing everything but my job.

 The smoke felt good, it calmed me. The wall behind me was cold, especially in the shadows but it didn’t bother me through my coat. I opened up the lapel and pulled out my cap from an inside pocket and fitted it nicely on my head, brushing my hair out of my face whilst doing so.

 I couldn’t help but feel like it was those moments in life you’ve got to enjoy. Just being quiet and thoughtful. I looked around a bit, the bricks here were a different colour to what I was used too, they were brown. In fact, every brick was brown on every building. S**t. I realised where I was, I was on the west side. This was Blue Henry’s district.

 Then a noise came from around the corner; voices. I peaked around and saw Handy Jak coming from the building. One of the robbers at his side.

 “What are you doing, Jak?” I said quietly to myself, I couldn’t help but do so.

 Jak spoke quietly with the robber for a minute before leaving. I couldn’t follow him; it would have been dangerous to do so, especially with him already looking for me.

 Jak seemed to be controlling a lot lately. Involved with Don, looking for me and what I guessed was looking for the diary, and now robbing children and paying visits to people in the west. I didn’t like it, not one bit. I had never liked Jak much, not that I had much of a chance to talk to him or get to know him, apparently he was a decent enough fellow and good at his job, there was just something about him.

 A clatter came from behind me. I spun around. Another noise from my right on the other side of the building I was leaning against. I had just realised I was still in a part of the city I shouldn’t have been in.

 I ran back to the south, careful not to run into any of Blue Henry’s boys or any of Jak’s. I was avoiding a lot of people.