The Five Faces (The Markhat Files) Read Online Free Page A

remind weedheads to keep talking, or they just sit there and chew.
    “It don’t have a name. Burned up right after the big storm. Was a warehouse. They fight in the basement. Watch don’t see any lights, that way. Give me the rest.”
    “Tell me how to get there first.”
    He tried to work up enough spit to swallow. It took him a while.
    “Find Roy’s. Go a block west. Then a block north. There’s an alley. Bricks are painted white. In there, first right, next left. Tell the man your name is Cauld. He’ll want ten coppers. He’ll open a door. That’s it. Give me the rest.”
    I slid the other coin his way.
    He snatched it up and was gone, leaving my door standing open.
    I got up to close it and watched him scurry away. He didn’t go alone. As Mr. Penny turned the corner, a man in a new, black hat and Watch-issue, black brogans popped out of a storefront and hurried after the weedhead.
    A moment later, Watch whistles blew.
    A moment after that, a pair of shiny, black Watch tallboys rounded the corner. Old Mr. Bull, still sweeping his stoop, saw them heading for me and laughed.
    “You’re in trouble now,” he said. His broom never missed a beat. “One of these days you’ll find some common sense and quit all this and stay home with the missus.”
    I didn’t close my door. Instead, I leaned on the wall beside it and greeted the Watch with a smile and a cheery wave.
    “One of these days I just might,” I said to Mr. Bull. “Maybe I can get a job sweeping up. You hiring?”
    The tallboys came to a halt. Watchmen spilled out, grim-faced. None returned my winsome smile.
    The last Watchman to emerge was one I knew. Holder, Captain Holder, the bright and rising star of the Regent’s shiny, new City Watch.
    “Inside, Markhat,” said the Captain. “You’ve got some talking to do.”
    Mr. Bull hooted an old man’s cackling laugh, shuffled behind his door, and slammed it firmly shut.
    My office is made to seat two. There’s enough room for another four or five to stand.
    Captain Holder brought in six uniformed Watchmen. The Captain took my client’s chair. The Watchmen put their backs to my walls and fixed me in half a dozen steely glares.
    “I only have tea service for four,” I said. “But—”
    “Shut up,” said the Captain. “I don’t think you’re funny. I’m going to ask you a question. You’re going to answer it, and you’re going to answer it straight. Or we take this all downtown, and maybe I ask the question again today or maybe I get busy and I don’t ask again until next week. Is that clear?”
    I nodded. “It’s clear. Ask.”
    He inched closer so that he sat on the edge of my chair. His elbows were on my desk. His hands were clenched into fists. The knuckles on his right hand were bruised and crisscrossed with old scars.
    “Tell me what you were doing on the docks last night,” he said. His eyes were bloodshot but hard. “Tell me who you talked to, and what they said. Don’t forget we’ve got the man who left here. And you can bet your ass he’s telling us everything he knows.”
    “You aren’t going to like it,” I said. “I’m going to tell the truth. But it’s not one you want to hear.”
    “You tell the truth, and we’ll not have a problem,” he said. “You try one of your song and dance routines, and all the fancy lawyers in all Avalante’s pockets won’t get you out of the Old Ruth this time.”
    I laid it all out, starting with Hurry-Up Pete and ending with Mr. Penny.
    Captain Holder’s face was the color of fresh-cut beef by the time I was done.
    “I told you what would happen if you tried to be funny,” he said. The white scars on his knuckles stood out against his bruises when he tightened his fists. “You should have listened.”
    There came a knock at my door. One of the Captain’s six silent men opened it, popped outside, and had a brief whispered conversation with someone.
    The Captain waited, grinning the grin of the predator triumphant.
    “In a