“Stop fighting me, boy-o.”
I stopped, my eyes blinded with tears.
“You were supposed to tell her I was clean.”
I tried to talk, but I'd gone mute, my mouth just opening and closing guppy style. He loosened his grip a tad, letting me speak. I looked at the other tables-everybody purposely averted their stares, except for Horst. He was looking right at me, chewing his food, his flawless face alight with amusement.
Between heavy breaths, I said, “I did tell her you were clean. She didn't believe me.”
“You're proving my point.”
“What point?”
“That I'm not getting my money's worth.”
“I can't talk like this. Fucking let go of my hand.”
He did.
My eyes started to clear, and I could breathe again. I clutched my hand to my chest. Waves of pain ricocheted through my arm. “Listen to me, asshole, it was too late to try that Ian's-a-good-cop bullshit. Maggie knows you're dirty. She's been watching you for months. She wants that squad leader job, and she knows that she won't get it as long as you're around. She wants to bring you down, and she's not about to listen to me telling her that you're clean. Besides, me saying somebody's clean doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot to anybody who knows my history. I'm the fucking dirty cop poster boy.”
Ian was listening to me, really listening. He didn't know I'd been at the cameraman's. If he did, he and his buds would've hustled me out the back exit by now, and I'd be on my knees, begging for mercy until they fried a hole through my temple. It hadn't occurred to him that I might stay loyal to Maggie. What did a punk like Ian know about loyalty? He thought I was just a mercenary, out for hire to the highest bidder. He thought that, for all those years, I'd been nothing more than a hired hand to Chief Chang.
Confidence surged through me, making the pain in my fingers a touch more bearable. I waved a waitress over. “Get me a bottle and a glass. I want a glass, you understand me? Don't bring me one of those stupid-ass goblets.” She scurried off.
Ian stayed silent, a vein bulging on his forehead.
My hand was pulsing. “Fuck, that hurts.”
That brought out a grin from Ian. “Tell me why I should keep paying you.”
“Because we had a deal, that's why.”
“The deal was that you were going to get Maggie out of my hair.”
“I did.” I pointed at his widow's peak, where the camera used to be.
He glared at me, not enjoying the joke at all.
The booze arrived and I sucked down a pair of double shots, eager for the anesthesia to take effect. “The best I can do, Ian, is keep you a step ahead of her. We do that long enough, and she'll eventually give up.”
Ian was still looking very displeased.
I took another hit of brandy. “I'll be honest, Ian. There are things she won't tell me. She doesn't trust me entirely, but I can keep you out of her reach. You can't keep her from sniffing around. She's already onto your scent. But if you let me do my job, I can see to it she doesn't find anything. I'll be with her every step of the way, steering her away from your trail. She interviews somebody, I'm there turning the questioning around. She starts tracking something big, I ring you up so you can erase your tracks. I'm your fucking guardian angel.”
“You expect me to believe that a washed-up enforcer can protect me?”
“I protected Chief Chang for over twenty years. And his enemies were a hell of a lot scarier than Maggie Orzo.”
I had him. He was nodding his head, seeing my reasoning. “I want this problem to go away,” he said.
“It will. It will. It's just going to take some time. Now are you going to pay me or what?”
Ian nodded and shrugged at the same time. “We'll keep our arrangement a little longer.”
I gave him an annoyed stare until he actually called up his account and transferred the funds.
Satisfied, I said, “Good. And if you touch my hand again, I'll fucking kill you.”
Ian laughed. “You're unbelievable, boy-o. You sure got a pair on you.”
“I'm serious.”
“Sure you are,” he said, like he was talking to a child.
I did my best to ignore the sarcasm. “I got something for you,” I said.
“What?”
“I was on Maggie's home system last night.”
“How'd you manage that?”
“I've been doing this kind of thing for a long time,” I answered without really answering. “Anyway, I found a set of files that have your name on them.”
Ian became fully attentive. “What's in them?”
“I don't know. They're encrypted. It'll take months to break them using Lagartan crackers, but I found an offworld company that can crack them open in less than thirty hours. It's going to cost you, though.”
“How much?”
“A lot.”
“How do I know you're not just going to pocket my money?”
I handed him a slip of damp paper from my shirt pocket. “That's the company's name and an account number. I've already uploaded the files to them. You pay them directly, and they'll start the decryption process.”
“What's this other number?”
“That's the price.”
He raised his brows at me. “I can't afford that.”
“I know, but I bet your offworld friend can.”
He looked at me dubiously.