The God Hunter

Read The God Hunter for Free Online

Book: Read The God Hunter for Free Online
Authors: Tim Lees
little innocence behind them, I knew that.
    â€œWell,” I told him, “I’m surprised,” because I was.
    â€œReally?”
    â€œUm . . . really. Yeah.”
    He had a scent, though, and he wasn’t going to let me off. It was one of Seddon’s little tricks: he’d called me in on the pretense of telling me something, when it was he who wanted answers. A technique that he’d perfected through a long and very prosperous career.
    I said, “You’ve looked this up, I’m sure. Last time in Hungary, Shailer was a trainee. They put him down as my assistant.”
    â€œHm. Well. Roles reversed, these days, no doubt.”
    â€œI don’t see why he wants me. We’re not, you know, in contact.”
    â€œNo. And if I knew, of course, I’d tell you. I presume he’s got his reasons. Tell me”—­the index fingers steepled once again—­“what happened there? When you were with him last? Eh?”
    â€œYou’ve read it. That’s what happened.”
    â€œYes, yes. Only I’d like to hear it . . . from the horse’s mouth, let’s say. Hm?”
    I shrugged, sat back. “Not much to tell. I wrote what happened. It’s a long time back. There was a bit of trouble—­malfunction. We sorted it, the job went fine. It was a good haul.”
    â€œNot as good as was expected, though. There was a shortfall. Also, I notice from the file that Shailer came home early. Any reason?”
    â€œI don’t know. Probably a prior appointment.”
    â€œWell, that would be one explanation, anyway. And you stayed on.”
    I nodded. No point fuddling the facts.
    â€œA difficult one, though? I know you ops. You have a problem, you talk about it ever after, analyze and gossip, and you never let it drop. So. Difficult?”
    I said, “There was . . . oh, a problem with a cable. Cracked core. I moved it, got the current flowing, finished off the job. After, I replaced it. Nothing much to talk about.”
    â€œResourceful. So that must be why Shailer’s picked you.”
    â€œWell. I wouldn’t know.”
    Seddon said one last thing, just before he let me go. “I knew a fellow worked for Shailer once. Bright chap, nice enough. They had a falling out—­don’t know the details, what it was about, who was responsible.” He was watching me now, scrutinizing every twitch and nuance on my face. “Drives a cab, these days. I’d imagine it’s a decent wage. But he isn’t with the Registry.”
    â€œAh.”
    â€œJust so you know.”
    Ten minutes later I was sitting at my desk, trying, for the third time, to make out my expenses claim.
    Hungary, I thought.
    And: Shailer .
    Then I swore and smacked the tabletop.
    Derek, pattering away at his keyboard, gave me a nasty little sideways smirk.
    No wonder I preferred to work alone.

 
    CHAPTER 7
    TALK SHOW
    I was late getting to Budapest. I didn’t mean to be. But the plane was late, and then the train was late, and I had to go to my hotel and drop my luggage off and freshen up, and, well, to tell the truth, I maybe wasn’t in much of a hurry after all.
    So the session was in progress when I slid into the hall. An usher proffered headphones for the simultaneous translation, but I doubted Shailer would know any words I didn’t. So I skirted down the side aisle, found a spare seat about halfway from the front, and sat. I’d assumed the gig was aimed at locals, but my neighbors here were both Chinese; they bowed politely, holding their headphones in place as they did so. A speaker mounted on the wall behind me helpfully relayed the lecture.
    I sort of recognized the voice.
    I didn’t recognize the man at all.
    Shailer was all grown up. Gone were the surfer duds, the baggy shorts and baseball cap, the hair that hung down like a curtain in his eyes. He stood upon a small stage at the front of the hall,

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