be a tool to Brightly, he knew, one that came with liabilities that required careful use. Every second Brightly allowed was one with a purpose, however hidden.
“I hope this has not been a waste of my very valuable time,” he said. “Has it, Hayes? Please tell me you’ve learned something useful?”
Hayes was silent. He gave Brightly a piercing look, then nodded slightly.
“I hope so,” said Brightly. “I honestly do. Some days I’m not sure why I’ve kept you on. We ask for you to do one thing, one little task, and we set the bar so low for you, and still somehow you find the need to buck us. But pay attention, now, because I’m going to keep this simple-if you don’t do these little, tiny, easy tasks we’ve set for you, you’ll be out. Out right away. No exceptions.”
“I just want to do my job. To get after Tazz.”
“No, Mr. Hayes,” said Brightly. “You are a man of addictions. And some of your addictions go far beyond any chemical or bottle. You want to chase Tazz the same way a drunkard needs his tankard. It’s simply another exciting little diversion for you, isn’t it?”
When Hayes did not answer, Brightly nodded. “Then it’s as I thought. Let’s hope this is one compulsion you can overcome, for your sake. Good day,” he said, and pushed through the doors and walked out to the street.
CHAPTER NINE
On her fifth week on the job, Samantha began to feel disappointment creeping in on her. She still organized rigorously and kept both herself and Hayes to the plans laid out for them, but the days went by more slowly. Looking back on the past weeks, it was difficult to say what they had accomplished. Her work had become condensed to mere paperwork and research, just facts and figures to feed Hayes before each interview. Conversations about violence and horrible suspicions drifted by, and she wrote them down without any expectation of redress. It became difficult to remember that often there were fortunes at stake when the day seemed to repeat itself again and again, with no hint of progress gained.
Hayes seemed to feel similarly. Each day he swept into the room, his eyes alight with a mad, dancing spark as he did his little performance, and then when he was done he shambled out, little and tired again. They did not speak much beyond work. They nodded hello and went about their business and then parted. Each time she reflected that she really knew very little about the man she was paid to assist.
So it came as a surprise one day when, as they packed up and prepared to leave, Hayes turned to her and said, “Well, Sam, I believe that went rather well, didn’t it?”
“I would say so, yes,” she said.
“Care for some dinner?”
She thought about it, wondering if it was some ploy. “If you’re sure.”
“Of course I’m sure,” he said. “Bit of food would do us both good.”
They ate boiled beef and cabbage at a bar across the street, a dim and murky place built of weeping wood. They sat at a scarred table in the corner, and she had a glass of stale tea and he a porter, telling her offhandedly that she was not to tell anyone about that as he was supposed to be bone-dry, you know, but every once in a while a man has to put a toe out of line. They exchanged curt comments about the food or about work, and Hayes drank beer until his lips were a thin black-brown and his cheeks gained color. Eventually he asked her where she was staying, and when she said Newton he cried, “My God. You’re practically living among royalty. How did you land that?”
“Mr. Evans arranged it for me, actually. It is quite nice,” she said haltingly.
“A bit too nice?”
“Maybe a little. I’m not really used to such treatment.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Evans is just fond of young girls in the most boring way possible. Thinks they’re his children. I’d ride it out, if I were you.” Hayes sloshed down more beer and said, “Where did you live in Cairo, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“In my father’s house,” she said.
“Do you miss it?”
“Yes. Yes. Very much.”
His eyelids fluttered. “Would you tell me about it?”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m curious, I suppose. I have you watching over my shoulder all day. I thought I might learn a bit about you. Can’t I order you to tell me, or something?”
“You are not my direct superior,” she said.
“Well. You’re my assistant. Just assist me with it, then.”
She sighed. She looked at Hayes and saw that familiar light in his eyes she’d seen in their interviews, that hunger to take a person apart and learn their story, like studying and dating a fossil found deep in the earth.
“My house?”
“Yes.”
“It was small,” she said. “Very small. We lived on the second story. I did, I mean. Below us was a large family. Their father was a tradesman. He dealt in spice, and downstairs it always smelled strange. Strange but beautiful. People sang in the mornings and throughout the day, calling people to prayer. I never prayed with them, it wouldn’t have been appropriate. But I often wish I had. I don’t know why.”
Hayes shut his eyes. He took a deep breath as though he could catch that same exotic fragrance. “It sounds very nice,” he said.
“It was. Very nice.”
“What did your father think of your transition to here?”
“My father has been dead for ten years.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s all right. It was ten years, after all.”
“If it was all so nice, why did you accept this position?” he asked.
She put her spoon down as she considered the question. “Well. It would have been impossible to say no.”
“Why?”
“Because… because this is Evesden. This is the most famous city in the world. I mean, I’ve worked for McNaughton for a few years, but never here, never at the main office. At the Nail. I had been looking for a chance to go further, and when this came along I couldn’t refuse.”
“Yes. I suppose I forget how this city seems to the outside,” he said. “Do you regret it? Taking the position, I mean?”
“No. Should I?”
“Well, you seem like a capable, career-minded young woman. It’s lucky you’re working for one of the more liberal places around, but you could really get a leg up if you did something else here.”
“This is a leg up,” she said.
Hayes lit a cigarette and spat smoke out the side of his mouth. “No it isn’t.”
“This is a position of extreme importance, operating for some of the most powerful people in the country. Of course this is significant.”
“Oh, all right, but beyond that? Beyond wanting a pat on the head from the fogies upstairs?”
Samantha glared at him. “I don’t want a pat on the-”
“I apologize,” he said, immediately and insincerely. “Very sorry. Totally out of line. But honestly. What do you want, beyond the prestige?”
“It’s also putting things to right,” she said, trying to believe it. “Keeping things safe. Protecting people. Prosecuting the murders in the lower ranks.”
Hayes was quiet. He swilled his beer around at the bottom of his glass, watching the slick muddy tide wash up and down the sides. “There was a man once,” he said. “A man named Teddy. Teddy Montrose. This was a few years ago, mind. Engineer. Worked in Telecommunications, Teddy did. Teddy handled a lot of high-security designs.
