Stalking the Dragon Page 2

  “I'm not?”

  “No. I'd planned to take you out for dinner, but we just picked up a job.”

  “What kind?”

  He told her about Brody and showed her the wad of hundreds. “We got about twenty-two hours to find the dragon if we want that bonus.”

  “The case is solved,” announced Winnifred. “Do we have to return Fluffy to get the bonus, or merely tell this Brody where she is?”

  “He's paying us to bring her back to him.”

  “Then the case is solved and there's no bonus.”

  “I don't suppose you'd care to explain that?” asked Mallory.

  “Don't you read anything but the Racing Form, John Justin?” said Winnifred.

  “He reads all those men's magazines he has hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk,” offered Periwinkle helpfully. “Well, he looks at the pictures, anyway.”

  “If everyone's through dumping on me, perhaps my partner can tell me how we solved the case and lost our bonus less than five minutes after I accepted the damned job?”

  “Fluffy is the favorite for Eastminster,” began Winnifred.

  “I know that.”

  “Can you guess who owns the second choice?”

  There was a momentary silence.

  “Please don't tell me what I know you're going to tell me,” said Mallory.

  Winnifred smiled grimly. “You guessed.”

  CHAPTER 2

  5:48 PM–6:37 PM

  “Well,” said Mallory, “I suppose the next step is to see if he's really got the dragon.”

  “He's the most powerful demon on the East Coast,” said Winnifred. “Are you sure you wouldn't rather just return our retainer?”

  “We'd be setting an unacceptable precedent,” replied Mallory.

  “But you're talking about the Grundy!”

  “He and I are old friends.”

  “You're mortal enemies,” Winnifred corrected him.

  “That too,” admitted Mallory. “You're sure he has the second choice?”

  “A chimera, yes,” said Winnifred. “It won here last year, before the dragon had begun showing.”

  “Well, I might as well get it over with,” said Mallory, picking up the phone. “You want to leave?”

  “No,” said Winnifred. “We're partners. I won't desert you, John Justin.”

  “I'd like to leave,” offered Periwinkle.

  “You're part of the furnishings,” said Mallory. He turned to Felina. “How about you? Everyone else has voiced an opinion.”

  “Will he tear you limb from limb, pluck your eyes out, cut off your head, and make a stylish jacket out of your skin?” she asked.

  Mallory shrugged. “He might.”

  “Then I'll stay.”

  “I knew I could count on you,” said the detective dryly.

  Mallory dialed G-R-U-N-D-Y and waited for the demon to appear. Nothing happened.

  He hung up, picked up the receiver, and dialed again. There was still no response.

  “That's odd,” he said, frowning. “That's always brought him before.”

  “Maybe he's guilty and doesn't want you to know it,” suggested Periwinkle.

  “You don't understand him,” answered Mallory. “He revels in being guilty. He should be here right now, bragging about how he kidnapped Fluffy without a single person spotting him.”

  “Then why isn't he?” asked the mirror.

  Mallory shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me.”

  “Does this mean he's not going to tear you apart and pluck out your eyes, John Justin?” asked Felina, disappointment writ large on her feline face.

  “It's a possibility,” said Mallory.

  “I never get to have any fun,” complained the cat-girl.

  Mallory walked over to the coat rack and donned his trenchcoat and battered fedora. “Maybe you can have some yet,” he said.

  “Where are you going, John Justin?” asked Winnifred.

  “To the Grundy's castle,” replied Mallory.“I want to take a look around there.”

  “I'm coming with you,” said Winnifred.

  Mallory shook his head. “Someone's got to stay here in case Brody calls to tell us he's received a ransom demand or sends his kennel manager by. I'll take Felina. It's getting dark out, and she can spot his henchmen—well, henchthings—better than I can.”

  “I hate it when you deal with him,” said Winnifred.

  “He's a demon of his word,” answered Mallory. “That's better than I can say for most of the men I know.” He turned to Felina. “Come on.”

  “First skritch my back, then feed me three parakeets, a swordfish, and a hippopotamus, and then maybe I'll go.”

  “I guess I'm going alone,” said Mallory.

  “One parakeet and a triple whaleburger with cheese?”

  “Good-bye,” said Mallory, opening the door and bracing himself for what was coming next.

  Ninety pounds of fur and sinew flew through the air and landed on his back. “I've reconsidered, John Justin!” purred Felina. “You can't survive without me!”

  “You leap onto my back too many more times and I don't know if I can survive with you,” grated Mallory, waiting for her to jump lightly to the floor.

  They walked out the door, caught a northbound buggy pulled by a rhinoceros, tipped the gremlin driver when he let them off at Central Park, and then Mallory turned north. The trees had lost their leaves and the barren branches stretched out toward the darkened sky like skeletal fingers.

  “This way about five hundred yards or so,” he said. “I think.”

  Felina smiled. “There are fish up ahead.”

  “He's got a moat surrounding his castle,” said Mallory.

  “Big fish,” said Felina.

  Mallory kept walking.

  “Really big fish.”

  Suddenly the still night air was split by a hideous roar.

  “And loud,” said Felina.

  “Fish don't roar,” said Mallory.

  Felina merely looked at him and smiled an inscrutable catlike smile.

  A flock of harpies flew overhead. One swooped down toward Mallory. “Go back!” she crooned. “Escape while you can!”

  Felina leaped up, claws extended, but couldn't reach the harpy.

  “His theatrical effects haven't improved much,” noted Mallory.

  They continued walking, and suddenly the Grundy's huge Gothic castle loomed before them, illuminated by torches.

  “Well, that's one way to save on your electric bill,” remarked Mallory.

  There was another roar.

  “I like fish,” said Felina hungrily.

  Mallory watched as a six-ton creature broke through the surface of the moat.

  “I think they like you even more,” he said.

  Another even larger monster surfaced and stared at them.

  “I want that one,” said Felina, pointing toward it.

  “Darn!” said Mallory. “I left my fishing rod at home.”

  “Just reach in and pull him out,” said Felina.

  “Now why didn't I think of that?” replied Mallory sardonically.

  The creature roared again, staring straight at Mallory.

  “Well?” said Felina impatiently.

  “Maybe later.”

  “I'll starve to death!”

  “That's too bad,” said Mallory. “I guess I'd better cancel that carton of catnip I ordered.”

  “Well, maybe not quite to death,” she amended.

  “I can't tell you how relieved I am,” said Mallory, staring at the drawbridge that crossed the moat.

  “Are you going to stand here all night, John Justin?” asked the cat-girl.

  “Just casing the joint. Do you see anyone or anything on the other side?”

  She peered into the dark and shook her head.

  “Something's wrong,” said Mallory. “This place is always protected.”

  “Oh, I didn't say there wasn't anyone there,” said Felina.

  “Yes
you did.”

  “I said I couldn't see them, and I can't.” She sniffed the air. “But I can smell them.”

  “How many and what kind?”

  She sniffed again. “A thing, and another thing, and then another thing, and…”

  “Thanks a heap,” said Mallory. He walked to the foot of the bridge. “Let me know if any of those things are sneaking up on me.”

  “Yes, John Justin.”

  “Yes, you'll let me know, or yes, they're sneaking up?”

  “Yes, I'll let you know,” said Felina.

  “Thanks.”

  “And yes, they're sneaking up.”

  Suddenly a leprechaun carrying a small spear raced across the drawbridge with a savage war cry.

  Mallory stood watching him for a moment, then turned to Felina. “If he gets within five feet of me, he's yours.”

  “Hey, Mac, I'd watch that if I were you,” said the leprechaun, skidding to a stop ten feet away. “Slavery went out with the Seventh Amendment.” He frowned. “Or was it the Fourteenth Commandment?”

  “It's okay,” said Mallory to the little leprechaun. “She's not going to own you. She's going to kill you.”

  “She is?” said the leprechaun, his eyes widening. “But that's ridiculous! What did I ever do to her?”

  “She's my bodyguard.”

  “But she's a female!”

  “You noticed.”

  “That's what we get for ever letting them read and write. Have her kill, clean, and cook one of the moat monsters while you and I relax and discuss the errors of giving them the vote. Louie, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  “I'm not your friend,” noted Mallory. “In case it's slipped your mind, you were just threatening me with your spear.”

  “That was business,” said the leprechaun with a shrug. “I'll tell you what: Let's go over to the Emerald Isle Pub and cement our camaraderie with a couple of pints. Your treat.”

  “Some other time,” said Mallory. “Right now I have to see the Grundy.”

  “Say not so, my dear friend. If you try, I'll just have to run you through.”

  “Felina, take his spear away and throw it in the moat,” said Mallory.

  The cat-girl grabbed the spear out of the leprechaun's hands.

  “You're destroying a beautiful friendship!” whined the leprechaun.

  Felina hurled the spear at a moat monster, which opened its mouth and swallowed it whole.

  “Now look what you've done!” whined the leprechaun. “I just know that's going to come out of my pay!” He glowered at Mallory. “You're going to be sorry for this, fella. My companions are waiting for you on the other side of the bridge, and they're going to tear you to pieces.”

  “Right!” yelled a high-pitched voice from across the bridge. “You cross this bridge and you're a dead man. We'll tear you limb from limb. There won't be enough of you left to bury. We'll pull your guts out and stomp on them. We'll play marbles with your eyeballs. We'll use your ears for ashtrays. We'll—” There was a retching sound. “I think I'm going to be sick!”

  “Why does he do it?” murmured Mallory, shaking his head in wonderment.

  “Do what, Dead Man?” asked the leprechaun.

  “He's the most powerful demon on the East Coast,” said Mallory. “He just walks past things and they die. So why does he hire a bunch of incompetents to guard his castle?”

  “It's not enough that you fed my livelihood to the moat monster?” complained the leprechaun. “Now you have to insult me too?”

  “Enough talk,” said Mallory. “I'm here on a job, and it's time I started doing it. Is your boss at home?”

  “I'll never tell!”

  “Felina?”

  The cat-girl, an evil grin on her face, stretched her hand out in front of the leprechaun's nose. One by one, each finger sprouted a razor-sharp two-inch claw.

  “Second floor, west wing, third bedroom on the left!” said the leprechaun, just before he ran off through Central Park.

  “Come on,” said Mallory, heading off across the drawbridge.

  “Who goes there?” demanded the same high voice he had heard before.

  “Me,” said Mallory.

  “Advance and be recognized, Me,” said the voice.

  Mallory walked to the end of the bridge and found himself confronting a troll, an elf, and a goblin.

  “That's far enough,” said the elf in its high-pitched voice.

  “Tell your boss that his greatest enemy is here to pay him a visit,” said Mallory.

  “You're the cook at Ming Toy Epstein's Kosher Pizzeria?” said the elf. “The poor demon was sick for days.”

  “His other greatest enemy,” said Mallory.

  “Can't be,” said the elf confidently. “John Justin Mallory is a tough dude. He wouldn't walk around unarmed in the middle of the night.”

  Mallory jerked a thumb in Felina's direction. “She's my weapon.”

  “My word!” said the elf, staring at her. “Is she loaded?”

  “I'm starting to lose my patience,” said Mallory. “You know you're not going to keep me out, and I know you're not going to keep me out, so why not just stand aside?”

  “Right,” said the elf, pointing to the goblin. “He's going to keep you out.”

  The goblin walked over and whispered something in the elf's ear.

  “Right now?” demanded the elf.

  The goblin nodded.

  “Well, all I can say is that it's damnably awkward,” said the elf. He sighed and turned back to Mallory. “Can we postpone your duel to the death for a couple of minutes?”

  “No,” said Mallory.

  “All right, then.” The elf turned to the troll. “Take him apart, Herm!”

  Herm the troll approached, spear at the ready, and Felina positioned herself between him and Mallory.

  “Hold everything!” yelled Herm. “Fins! Fingers! Time-out!”

  “What's the matter?” demanded the elf.

  “Trolls are afraid of cat-people,” whined Herm. “I thought everyone knew that.”

  “So rise above it,” said the elf.

  “It's in my contract,” insisted Herm. “I don't have to fight cat-people.”

  “I'll get you a commendation, and recommend that we pay you double time for killing her.”

  Herm shook his head. “Ain't gonna do it. Can't make me do it.”

  “It's just a cat-person, for goodness’ sake!” yelled the elf.

  “That's it for you, Charlie!” said Herm. “I'm reporting you to the shop steward tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh, don't be such a baby!” yelled Charlie.

  “And now you're insulting me. Oh, this is going to cost you, Charlie!”

  The troll turned and walked off into the darkness.

  “Well, I guess it's just you and me,” said Mallory.

  “The hell it is!” snapped Charlie. “I'm not a combatant, I'm a supervisor! You'll have to come back in the morning when I have a new crew to defend the castle.”

  “I haven't got till morning. I'm going in now.”

  “I can facilitate things!” said Charlie quickly. “Give me half an hour to assemble a team of cutthroats and mad dog killers!”

  “Nope,” said Mallory. “Now are you going to step aside, or do we have this battle to the death that you were so hot to promote a minute ago?”

  “I have a better idea,” said the elf. “Let's cut a deck of cards. If you're high, you can go in. If not, you jump into the moat and let the monsters eat you.”

  “Afraid not, Charlie,” said Mallory.

  “You wouldn't hit a guy with glasses, would you?” said the elf desperately.

  “You're not wearing glasses.”

  “I misplaced them!” said Charlie. “But I know right where they are! If you'll wait here five minutes, I can be back with them.”

  “No.”

  “Where's your sense of fair play?” whined Charlie.

  “I left it in my other su
it,” said Mallory. “Now step aside.”

  He took a step forward, and the elf leaped out of his way, then gave vent to a hideous scream.

  “Now look what you made me do!” wailed the elf. “I just stepped in something, and this was my best pair of boots!”

  “It was in the line of duty,” said Mallory. “Write a request for reimbursement.”

  The little elf's face brightened noticeably. “Hey, you're all right, Mallory! I don't suppose you'd like to share a couple of pints at the Emerald Isle Pub and cement a growing mutual admiration.”

  “Not right now,” said Mallory, approaching the gate leading to the castle's interior with Felina right behind him. “I have business inside.”

  “I'll be waiting for you,” promised Charlie. “Always provided the Grundy doesn't tear off your head and spit down your neck and pull out your liver and…” Another retching sound. “I'm going to be sick again!”

  Mallory and Felina entered the castle.

  “Keep an eye out for guards and traps,” said the detective.

  “It doesn't come out,” replied Felina.

  “Okay, keep an eye in for them.”

  “Yes, John Justin.”

  “You know the Grundy's scent. Is he close by?”

  She sniffed the air, nodded, and pointed straight ahead.

  “Not up the stairs?” asked Mallory.

  She pointed straight ahead again.

  “Okay, let's go take a look.”

  He began walking forward, passing through rooms filled with musty, uncomfortable-looking Victorian furniture, all possessed of uninviting hard angles, and finally came to a small atrium.

  “You're sure?” asked Mallory.

  Felina smiled and pointed…and suddenly Mallory saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look and saw a tall being, a few inches over six feet, with two prominent horns protruding from his hairless head. His eyes were a burning yellow, his nose sharp and aquiline, his teeth white and gleaming, his skin a bright red. Usually he dressed in crushed velvet and satins, but this time he wore a perfectly tailored tuxedo. The ruffled shirt hid the two mystic rubies that Mallory knew were suspended around his neck on a golden chain.

  His back was to Mallory, and he had a chimera on a leash. The creature—thirty inches at the shoulder, with the front legs of a lion, the torso of a goat, and the tail of a snake, bright red, and snorting smoke—struck a pose, and he reached into a pocket and tossed it a writhing, snarling thing, which the chimera caught and swallowed in a single motion.