New York Nights [Virex 01] Read Online Free Page B

Halliday. I’m gone.’
     
    Kia rose from the stool and stared down at him, ultimatum in her expression. Halliday sighed. ‘I have a car. I’ll drive. Solano Buildings, right?’
     
    ‘You know where that is?’
     
    ‘I know where it is.’ The thought of going back there, after so long, filled him with a vague sense of disquiet. It would be strange to enter the building with no intention of calling in on his sister.
     
    Missy-with-claws escorted them back through the rainforest. They pushed through the swing doors and into the darkened foyer.
     
    The outside door opened, admitting a blast of icy air. As Kia shivered theatrically and Halliday followed, Missy tapped his back. ‘Forgotten something, Mr Halliday?’
     
    He turned. She was smiling her saccharine sweet smile of a schoolgirl temptress. She held one hand - her left, unaugmented hand - behind her back.
     
    He patted the pocket where he kept his wallet, but it was still there.
     
    He slipped his hand into his jacket, but the automatic no longer nestled against his ribs.
     
    He’d never felt a thing . . .
     
    ‘Very clever, Missy. If you don’t mind . . .’ He held out a hand.
     
    She twisted her lips in a quick smirk of victory and dropped the pistol onto his palm. ‘I’d be more careful with it in future, Mr Halliday. You never know when you might need to use it. A man should never be separated from his weapon. Even I know that.’
     
    ‘You’re too old for your own good, Missy.’
     
    ‘Eleven in May,’ she said.
     
    ‘I’ll send you a card,’ he promised. ‘A word of advice; just make sure your mom doesn’t find out where you spend your free time, okay?’
     
    Missy covered her pretty mouth with the steel claw. ‘Mr Halliday, the lady behind the desk is my mom.’
     
    She was still laughing as she slammed the door on him. He shook his head and began walking.
     
    Kia was halfway down the street, arguing with a refugee demanding dollars. She turned to Halliday. ‘What’s the big delay, honey?’
     
    Halliday hurried along the alley, away from the beggars, and showed her to the car. He started the engine and drove across town to Greenwich Village. The Solano Building was a drab-looking brownstone overlooking Washington Square. He found a parking space beneath the trees and followed Kia up the front steps.
     
    ‘Keep your distance, man. I mean, nothing personal, but if anyone sees us together, hey, then my rep is just shot to pieces.’
     
    He looked at the pin-striped lesbian giantess. ‘Your reputation?’ he muttered. He paused to allow her to get ahead, then followed her into the building at a distance.
     
    The interior was just as drab and depressing as he recalled, the walls daubed the sickly pea-green of a psychiatric institute circa 1900. Years ago, Sue had rented a room on the top floor, with a view over the square to the university buildings. Halliday recalled the ancient lift, the ammoniacal stench of urine that made each ride a test of endurance. They would be spared the experience this time: Kia led him down a long ground floor corridor to a steel-plate door. She slipped a card from her breast pocket and, a second later, pushed open the door and stepped inside.
     
    ‘Carrie! You in here, hon?’
     
    The automatic lighting came on and brightened, revealing a room more in keeping with the centre-spread of some interior decorating magazine than anything Halliday associated with the Solano Building. He recalled that both Villeux and Nigeria were professionals, Villeux in fashion design, Nigeria in computing - and they obviously had excess earnings to lavish on decor and furnishings. The open-plan lounge/dining room was decorated in cream, with plush Norwegian furniture and artificially-nurtured fur rugs. Psychedelic holograms cycled through gaudy phases on each wall, giving Halliday the unsteady sensation of being aboard a seaborne vessel.
     
    Kia moved from room to room, calling Carrie’s name. Halliday