Ahab's Return: or, The Last Voyage by Jeffrey Ford

Author:Jeffrey Ford [Ford, Jeffrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: William Morrow
Published: 2018-08-28T04:00:00+00:00

18

On the street, the temperature had dropped. Walking aimlessly along, I tried to picture Mavis and I launching an assault on Malbaster and the Host at some cave in the woods in the northern wilds of Manhattan. Our odds of success struck me as less than promising. I was going to need at least a few more conscripts to the cause but couldn’t think of anyone. I mulled the idea of asking Garrick to hire some thugs for me, but when I’d spoken to him about the end of the Ahab run, he hadn’t seemed unduly upset that I was moving on from that theme. The chances that he would make the hinges squeal on his money chest and hand over cash for mercenaries was slim.

I thought of Misha, but she was getting along in years and had two bad knees. The only other possibility was my brother-in-law, Tommy, who might be willing to muster some police support. I headed south along the docks of the seaport where he usually could be found, either rousting vagrants or drinking free ale in one of the oyster joints. I finally caught up with him at a little place called the Rooster’s Tooth across from the Coffee House slip.

He was sitting with the owner of the place, drinking a tankard, as usual. When I appeared before him, he sent the owner away and said to me, “George, you look like you’ve got something to say that I’m not going to like.”

I sat down opposite him. I wasn’t really sure how to begin. After all, he’d already warned me to steer clear of Malbaster and the Host.

“Well?” he said.

“Do you remember that fellow who was with me a week or so ago?”

“The one who had resolved to kill all the criminals in New York in order to save his boy?”

“Yes, that one. Ahab.”

“What happened, George?” he asked wearily.

“He was snatched by Malbaster, and I have it from a reliable source the poor fellow is having his consciousness eradicated by the yellow smoke.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I intend to rescue him.”

Tommy took a swig of his ale and stared at me for a few beats. “What did I tell you?” he said.

“I couldn’t stop Ahab from searching for his son. The man’s obsessed.”

“George Harrow, you can’t bullshit a bullshitter. You couldn’t stop yourself from writing articles about him for the Mirror. Did you forget that I’m your biggest fan? Even your own sister doesn’t read your work as reliably as I do. You just ignored me. The way you saw it, you were in charge and nothing could go wrong.”

“Tommy, I swear . . .”

“I warned you.”

“It’s a man’s life. Don’t the police want to catch Malbaster?”

“Where is he holed up?”

“Some place called the Indian Caves.”

Tommy laughed. “Is this real or another one of your cockeyed stories?”

“It’s true.”

“You wouldn’t know anything about a disturbance at a certain French restaurant in the Crystal Palace, would you?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“Word is Malbaster was on the scene. There was gunplay, a window was broken, and a colored fellow was tossing knives around.

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