White Night (The Dresden Files #9) - Jim Butcher Page 0,88

me what's going on?"

I gave Murphy the short version of what we'd learned since I'd seen her last.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Murphy said. "Then it was Beckitt."

"Looks like she was shilling for the Skavis, whoever he is. And Grey Cloak and that wussy cousin of Thomas's added in a few killings of their own to get my attention."

"That isn't exactly in the best interests of the Skavis, if he was trying to avoid it."

"I know. So?"

"So they're all vampires, right?" Murphy shrugged. "I figured they'd be working together."

"They're White Court. They live for backstabbing. They like doing it through cat's-paws. They probably figured I would find out about the killings, move in, and wipe out the Skavis for them. Then they'd congratulate themselves on how clever they were."

Murphy nodded. "So now that you've got your clients safely tucked away, what comes next?"

"More wiping out than they counted on," I said. "I'm going to find Beckitt and ask her nicely not to kill anyone else and to point me to the Skavis. Then I'll have a polite conversation with him. Then I'll settle up with Grey Cloak and Passenger Madrigal."

"How do you find Beckitt?"

"Um," I said, "I'm sure I'll figure out something. This entire mess is still way too nebulous for me."

"Yeah," Murphy said. "All these killings. It still doesn't make any sense."

"It makes sense," I said. "We just don't know how, yet." I grimaced. "We're missing something."

"Maybe not," Murphy said.

I arched an eyebrow at her.

"Remember our odd corpse out?"

"Jessica Blanche," I said. "The one Molly saw."

"Right," Murphy said. "I found out more about her."

"She some kind of cultist or something?"

"Or something," Murphy said. "According to a friend in 'Vice, she was an employee of the Velvet Room."

"The Velvet Room? I thought I burned that plac—uh, that is, I thought some as-yet-unidentified perpetrator burned that place to the ground."

"It's reopened," Murphy said. "Under new management."

Click. Now some pieces were falling into place. "Marcone?" I asked.

"Marcone."

Gentleman Johnnie Marcone was the biggest, scariest gangster in a city famous for its gangsters. Once the old famiglias had fallen to internal bickering, Marcone had done an impression of Alexander the Great and carved out one of the largest criminal empires in the world—assuming you didn't count governments. Chicago's violent crime rate had dropped as much because of Marcone's draco-nian rule of the city's rackets as because of the dedication of the city's police force. The criminal economy had more than doubled, and Marcone's power continued to steadily grow.

He was a smart, tough, dangerous man—and he was absolutely fearless. That is a deadly combination, and I avoided crossing paths with him whenever I could.

The way things were shaping up, though, this time I couldn't.

"You happen to know where the new Velvet Room is?" I asked Murphy.

She gave me a look.

"Right, right. Sorry." I blew out a breath. "Seems like it might be a good idea to speak to some of the girl's coworkers. I'll bet they'll be willing to do a little talking to avoid trouble with the law."

She showed me her teeth in a fierce grin. "They just might. And if not, Marcone might be willing to talk to you."

"Marcone doesn't like me," I said. "And it's mutual."

"Marcone doesn't like anybody," Murphy replied. "But he respects you."

"Like that says much for me."

Murphy shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Marcone's scum, but he's no fool, and he does what he says he'll do."

"I'll talk to Elaine once she's got everyone settled," I said. "Get her to stay here with Mouse and keep an eye on things."

Murphy nodded. "Elaine, huh? The ex."

"Yeah."

"The one working against you last time she was in town."

"Yeah."

"You trust her?"

I looked down at Murphy for a minute, then up at the hotel room. "I want to."

She exhaled slowly. "I have a feeling things are going to get hairy. You need someone who's got your back."

"Got that," I said, holding up my fist. "You."

Murphy rapped her knuckles gently against mine and snorted. "You're going syrupy on me, Dredsen."

"If it rains, I'll melt," I agreed.

"It's to be expected," she said. "What with how you're gay and all now."

"I'm wh…" I blinked. "Oh. Thomas's apartment. Hell's bells, you cops got a fast grapevine."

"Yeah. Rawlins heard it at the coffee machine and he just had to call me up and tell me all about you and your boyfriend being in a fight. He asked me if he should get you the sound track to Les Mis-erables or Phantom of the Opera for Christmas this year. Varetti and Farrel got