Free A Song In The Dark by P. N. Elrod Page A

up, but not to this degree. I’d have to take him for a ride in this one while the opportunity was available and watch his reaction.
    Despite the fact the car was half tank, Strome took short cuts, moving quick enough for the evening traffic because of the powerful engine. It swilled gas and oil like a drunk guzzling cheap hooch, but daily stops at a filling station seemed an even trade for the smooth running and safety.
    There seemed to be a lot of stop signals, and they were all against us. Being a man of careful, attention-avoiding habitsStrome didn’t miss any of them or go over the speed limit. He braked in midblock before the stairs leading up to the Escott Agency.
    This was where my friend ran a business that was a close cousin to private investigation, though Charles W. Escott insisted he was not a detective but a private agent. He sometimes referred to himself as a glorified errand runner, doing odd jobs for people who would rather not touch the chore themselves. The private-agent angle earned him a living, and I helped him out on cases when he needed it.
    I got out, walking around to the driver’s side. The sleet dotted my back.
    â€œI’ll be a while,” I told Strome. “Doctor’s appointment.” Whether he believed that excuse or not didn’t matter. The abuse I’d taken tonight certainly justified my going in for treatment.
    â€œYou want I should circle the block?”
    All the parking spaces were filled by local residents. “Yeah. Do that. Take your time.”
    â€œRight, Boss.”
    â€œJust a sec—find a phone and call Lowrey. Gordy will want to know how things went with Kroun.”
    â€œHe’ll already know.”
    â€œOh, yeah?”
    â€œOne of the boys will have told him by now. Maybe Kroun himself.”
    â€œThat’s fine, then.”
    â€œWhat about telling him about what Hoyle tried with you?”
    â€œIt’s not important enough. Derner should know, then maybe tomorrow for Gordy. Let the man rest.”
    â€œRight, Boss.”
    Strome took himself away, bits of paper and stray leaveskicking around in the departing Caddy’s exhaust. Midnight was still in the future, but the street was wee-hours empty. The neighborhood was mostly small businesses, marginal manufacturing, and cheap flats. Few of the shops were open much past eight, except for an all-night drugstore in the next block and the nearby Stockyards.
    Once the Caddy made its turn at the corner to head north again, I walked south, cutting over a couple streets until the lowing of cattle added a somber note to the night wind. Their accompanying stink made for a whole nasal symphony, though the freezing weather mitigated the worst of that. Breathing wasn’t a habit for me, but I could still take in a potent whiff of concentrated wet barnyard when the motion of walking caused my lungs to pump all on their own.
    I went invisible some distance from the first fence, floating purposefully forward and sieving through, holding on to the sweet and easy grayness until I was well inside. My corner teeth were out when I went solid again. After an anxious, dry-mouthed moment to find a likely animal, I ghosted into the holding pen. A last quick look to make sure I was unobserved, then I literally tore into my meal.
    I couldn’t feel much of the cold, but I was totally aware of the living heat swarming into me. The cow made a protesting sound but held still. Its blood pulsed fast and strong. Maybe I’d bitten too deeply; it could bleed to death afterward. That hardly mattered since it was headed shortly for slaughter anyway. I was just one more confusing, frightening incident in its horrific trip from pasture to plate.
    Feeding doesn’t take me long, even when I’m hungry, but I stretched it out. There seemed a boundless supply in that open vein, so I took more than I needed, filling up forgotten corners until it hurt.
    Then I fed some more. Far more. Gulping