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The pressure on my back ceased abruptly and the hulking presence disappeared. I turned around very slowly, as Drummond might still be stood nearby, might yet do something stupid. Something more stupid, more like. If you're going to go to the trouble of carrying out a kidnapping then the least you can do is to make sure that the ransom note is delivered in person. I was forced to the conclusion that Drummond was not the brains of the outfit. The big Goblin was nowhere to be seen, of course. These old places are a warren of tunnels and passages and staircases, and there was no point in even trying to catch up with him. He certain knew how to move quietly, stealthily, and he might have deployed another of those invisibility glamours he evidently knew how to get his hands on. So now I had my client in trouble, big trouble. She was a sweet girl, managing to display a charming degree of innocence, especially for one who worked in a nightclub and slept with some of the wealthier patrons. My highly atrophied sense of chivalry woke up and kicked me, metaphorically, in the ass. There was no way I could let Clunie suffer at the hands of whoever was behind all this. I could not risk delaying talking with Luncardy - I might very well be under discrete surveillance even now. But I could choose where and how I communicated Drummond's message. I made my way back down to what passes for ground level around here, making no more than a token attempt to spot Drummond lurking in the shadows. I got no sense of his presence, but that didn't mean he wasn't nearby. There was a public callbox on the corner of the short street that linked the cavern wall apartment complex to the main thoroughfare. It looked worn and well-used, although clearly in working order. Few around this neighbourhood could afford a phone of their own, and the poorer kind would queue here to make their calls. Besides, the local tough guys would tear the ears off any vandal they caught damaging this vital form of communication. I grabbed the receiver, stuffed coins dredged from the recesses of my pocket into the slot and dialled Luncardy's direct line. I had it committed to memory by now. The phone rang for fifteen seconds before it was answered. "Yeah?" She worked hard at the tough-guy image. "Luncardy? It's Gask." "Well, well. Less bored now, are we?" "Much less, thank you for asking," I answered in bright and brittle tones. I doubt she noticed. "So what do you want then?" "I've got information, important information. News I can't tell you over the phone." "Ha! You better not be playing games with me," she growled. "I'm not," I replied with all the sincerity I could muster, "Look, you need to trust me in this one." There was a derisory snort from the other end of the line. "Okay, I'll bite. Although I'll probably regret it." "Thanks. Meet me in my office as soon as you can." There was a series of muffled noises, as though she was conferring with an underling with her hand over the microphone. "Forty minutes," her voice returned, "If that's convenient for your busy schedule?" "Great. Thanks." I rang off. I could rely on Luncardy bringing a squad with her - she never went anywhere alone - so now would be a good time to find out whether there was still a stakeout on my office and exactly what Madderfy's goons were up to.
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Part 73