Free Hell's Horizon by Darren Shan

of the peripheral names I’d scribbled in the back. “It wasn’t Rudi Ziegler, was it?”
    “The very one. Nic was into contacting the dead, fortune-telling, crackpot stuff like that.”
    “And Ziegler gave her the brooch?”
    “According to those in the know. I was going to contact the police about it. Do you think I should?”
    “I doubt it’ll matter. They’ll find out from the same sources as you.” I made a big ring around Ziegler’s name and stared at it. “Do you know Rudi Ziegler?”
    “Heavens no! I wouldn’t be seen dead in the company of witch doctors.”
    “You know nothing about him?”
    “Only what I heard from Nic’s friends. As far as I can make out, he’s a hole-in-the-wall Houdini—mirrors, hidden speakers and flashes of light.”
    “Anything else you can tell me?”
    He thought for a minute. “Nothing springs to mind.”
    “You don’t seem too cut up about her death,” I commented.
    He sniffed. “What can I do about it? She’s dead. I’m not into grief trips. It’s a harsh world. Nic knew that. She ran into the wrong guy at the wrong time. Could happen to any of us. Those are the risks we take.”
    “What if it wasn’t random? She may have been targeted. What if you’re next on the list? A distant relative looking to get his hands on the Hornyak estate or someone your father destroyed in business years ago?”
    “No.” He sank the eight ball, lit another cigarette, racked the balls up and started a new frame. “Nic got unlucky. The perils of fucking anything that moves.”
    “You’re the soul of compassion,” I said bitterly.
    “Screw compassion. Death’s nothing new to me. I’ve watched friends die slowly from AIDS. Seen guys stabbed outside clubs, purely because of where they stick their dicks. You live with the losses or go nuts. Besides, I wouldn’t have wished death on Nic, but it could have happened to nicer people, know what I mean?”
    “Not really.”
    He fixed his gaze on me. “Nic was my sister and I loved her. But she was no angel. You knew her a month. From what you say, you only saw the best of her.”
    “You reckon?”
    “That bald guy in the club I was telling you about—that was two weeks ago. Were you still close with Nicola then, Al?”
    I stiffened, preparing a retort, then realized he wasn’t insulting me, merely opening my eyes to the truth. I relaxed and nodded slowly.
    “You weren’t the first she did the dirty on. You don’t even make the first few dozen. If you think she was an unsullied innocent and it’s your duty to avenge her, you’re a fool. My advice—let it lie. She wasn’t worth such devotion.”
    His cruel honesty unsettled me and I realized, as I had when studying her file, how little I’d known about her.
    “I’ll leave you to your game,” I said.
    “So soon? Stay awhile. Go a few frames with me. You never know where it might lead. I’ve a wardrobe full of Nic’s old clothes and I can fit into most of them.”
    “Tempting,” I grinned, “but no thanks.”
    “Your loss,” he pouted, then winked. “Bye, Al. Call again someday. Catch me in something hot .”
    I smiled, shook my head and left.
    I felt reasonably good as I cycled back to Party Central. I’d made a start, and while I hadn’t cracked the case, I hadn’t collapsed at the first hurdle. I was pleased with the way the questioning had gone. I’d handled myself professionally. And I’d stumbled onto a possible clue in the process—Rudi Ziegler. Maybe I was cut out for this detective business after all.
    I jotted down a few thoughts after my meeting with Nick. Apart from the Ziegler connection, there was the AA discrepancy to ponder. Why did Nic lie to me? Most probably she just didn’t want to admit she had a problem. A lot of people at AA meetings started out “without a problem” and were only there “at the insistence of…” (fill in the blank).
    I made a note all the same—I’d need a new notebook soon if this kept up—then put it to