The Wanderer in Unknown Realms: A Novella by John Connolly

Author:John Connolly [Connolly, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical
ISBN: 9781476751399
Amazon: B00CCX9DNI
Goodreads: 17800624
Publisher: Atria/Emily Bestler Books
Published: 2013-06-25T05:00:00+00:00

VIII

IF IT was true that nobody in Whitechapel had a bad word to say about Maggs the book scout, then it was only because nobody I encountered appeared to want to waste any words on him at all. I began asking about him in the vicinity of the Chevrah Torah but was directed gruffly to the Princelet Street Synagogue farther along the way. There, questions about Maggs were greeted with dark looks and, in one case, a veritable fountain of mucous spittle that missed my boot by an inch. Eventually, an old Hasidic man wearing an ancient spodik on his head directed me to a laneway that smelled of cat piss and stagnant water. There a doorway stood open, revealing a veritable warren of small apartments. A young woman, who might well have been a tart, stood smoking outside.

“Do you live here?” I asked her.

“Live—and work,” she said, and the way she tipped her head in the direction of the stairs removed any doubts I might have had about her profession. When I didn’t bite, she sucked deeply on her cigarette and ran her soft pink tongue over her lips.

“You a copper?”

“No.”

“You look like a copper.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Not around here.”

“I’m trying to find a man named Maggs. I was told he lives nearby.”

“He in trouble, then?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because men who look like you don’t go asking after men like Maggs unless there’s trouble involved.”

“And what kind of man is Maggs?”

“He’s the kind of man I wouldn’t roll with if his cock was dipped in gold and he gave it to me after for a doorstop.”

It was an arresting image.

“I’ve been struggling to find anyone who might say something pleasant about him,” I said. “When he dies, it’s likely to be lonely by the graveside.”

“Shouldn’t have thought so. Lot of people will show up just to make sure he’s dead.”

“They offer dancing shoes for just such occasions, I believe.”

She smiled. “If they don’t, I’ll make do with what I have.”

“Is he about, this Maggs?”

“Think so. He came in earlier, I believe. I heard him going up. He coughs a lot, does Maggs. Coughs, but doesn’t die.”

“You really don’t like him, do you?”

“He looks at women like he’s planning to slice them and sell them by the pound. He stinks because he’s bad inside. He’d steal the smell from a corpse, and he wouldn’t spare a penny if it would save a life.”

She finished the cigarette and tossed it into the shadows.

“Number nine, top of the stairs,” she said.

“You, or him?”

“Him. I’m in number five, if you change your mind.”

“I won’t, but thank you anyway.”

“Why? Because you’re too good for a tart?”

“No, because the tart’s too good for me.”

I found some money in my pocket, and I slipped her what she would have charged for a roll with me. As with the boy from the post office, I didn’t ask for a receipt: Fawnsley and Quayle would just have to take it on trust.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, and her voice was softer than it had previously been.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.