“Eyes?” Tasker questioned carefully.
Katryzna nodded, starting to shovel greasy chips into her mouth. “My only friend I ever had.” A pause to chew, giving Tasker a moment to unwrap her diction. “He disappeared. Or died. Eight years ago?” More chips. “Eyes was Duvcorp’s best secret weapon. He made things seem like they didn’t happen.” She finished her rapid feast and choked back a small belch. Tasker could barely focus on her words. “I have meant to kill Hank Duvalier for a long time. He never appreciated Eyes enough. Definitely to blame for whatever happened to him.”
“Forgive me for being slow,” Tasker said, “but what was the unnatural element?”
“Oh,” Katryzna said. “Hank had Eyes chasing ghosts and ghouls and silly legends. He complained about it all the time, how ridiculous it was. Except the last assignment, that worried him. We met just before he left – he helped me chop up a Libyan.” Her eyes glazed over as she sank into the grim memory. “He didn’t need to come, he just wanted to see me, and turned up uninvited, smoking against a wall like I should expect him. He asked to talk. Sure, I said, once we kill Fahid – and feed him to crocodiles. But no, he said, talk and work, and started to explain while we dragged the body off a balcony. It landed on a car.” This didn’t sound like the high-grade contract killing Tasker had assumed the big corporations capable of, and his expression must have showed it, because she quickly added, “It made Eyes laugh until he coughed and almost fell over. He never let things like that happen, he was always so specific – he only laughed around me. But what were we talking about?”
Tasker gave a shrug, letting her flow.
“Ah. So he reminded me about these ghost stories. He said this one felt different and he gave me his phone, in case things went wrong. I never got a call and he never came back, so, great plan, Eyes. No contacts or anything on the phone. All I knew was that he flew to Africa.”
“But you were already in Libya?”
“We killed the Libyan in Madrid, try to keep up, Sean. Do your Ministry know anything about Africa?”
Considering it was a whole continent of activity, yes, Tasker could imagine there were a thousand cases of note to the Ministry across Africa. But the woolliness aside, she was talking about Duvcorp setting contractors onto investigating the supernatural. The origins of the company crossing over into Ministry territory. He said, “Was Parris involved this Africa trip?”
Katryzna shrugged. “Eyes wouldn’t give that number to just anyone, so probably. Duvalier had him looking into strange things. Bigfoot and haunted houses. So.” She took a step forward and prodded a finger into Tasker’s chest. “Does that fit your idea of unnatural?”
Her poke left a chip-grease sheen on his clean flesh. He said, “We might, conceivably, investigate haunted houses. To disprove them.”
Katryzna backed off with a smile. “Then you will want to work together with me. Take Duvcorp down.” She punched her opposite palm.
Tasker paused, unsure of what she even was, let alone what aligning himself with her meant. But here was a promise of results, nonetheless. He said, “Are you alone?”
“Well. I am with you? And –” She pointed to her left shoulder, which had distracted her before. Indicating an earpiece he couldn’t see? “There’s Rurik? Listen, Eyes was the only person that ever treated me right –” Her mouth tightened with irritation, then she spoke sideways. “You do not, you do nothing but annoy.” No, there was no earpiece, just voices in her head. She collected herself. “We have the same interests, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Tasker replied slowly. “But I don’t take partners outside the Ministry.”
“That’s good,” Katryzna only smiled wider. Strangely healthy teeth. If you ignored the food stuck between them. “Me neither. You can help us move around. Legally, so I don’t have to keep leaving weapons behind. Less people get hurt this way, that should make you happy.” A bitter twist towards her shoulder suggested that wasn’t meant for him. She smiled again. “Sean. I see you’re overthinking this. I am here to help. You are making a face – be honest, remember?”
“I make a career of discretion,” Tasker said. “You look like roadkill.”
Katryzna put her hands on her hips. “And I got into your super-cool hotel without any alarm going off, yes? You want to cross Duvcorp, you need me. Stuffy suits and government regulations don’t work against them.”
Well, that was true. Tasker could see himself wrapped up in the same red tape and complications that surrounded Parris’s electronics. Conversations that amounted to no more than warnings to back off. Questions unanswered, guilty forever free. With eighteen senselessly dead – probably more to come. That poor girl, a Norwegian Rebecca, her face ripped apart. Tasker said, “I’m interested, but you need to give me more than that. Your friend died eight years ago? What’ve you learnt since then?”
“Ah.” Her face went blank a second. “I thought you might ask. Now, when I say we were friends – we did not see each other often – and, life is hard – actually Eyes used to get me out of trouble, a bit, so without him around –” She stopped herself, took a collecting breath and rushed out the explanation. “Long story short, I was out of circulation and a bad friend but I am compensating now.”
Tasker eyed her. He could believe this erratic, unwashed woman could be the sort to leave the disappearance of her friend unanswered for years. “But you are connected to these people,” he said, “the corporations and the –”
“I work occasionally.” She rolled a dismissive hand. “Not right now. This is personal. Lucky I was nearby when I got this message.” She clicked her fingers, then took up the phone again, thumbing through. “Just yesterday.”
Tasker read off the two-tone screen: It’s Parris. Not sure you remember me. You said contact you if things got bad. Please come to Ordshaw ASAP.
They had a past agreement Parris was cashing in on from eight years ago?
“I had people trace the message,” Katryzna said, “and found this guy who was all muscle bending over Parris in the bath. Not perfect timing. I cracked his skull with my gun, so I could question him, but he didn’t stop. He made a lucky punch and ran, while Parry was gargling his last words.”
“You got a good look at the killer?”
“For what’s it’s worth. Big, like a thug, with a tattoo” – she gestured vaguely around her neck – “military insignia? Short dark hair, flat nose. Stupid eyes. Average ex-army goon. Ring any bells?”
It was about as useless as descriptions of thugs went. Tasker said, “I’ll run it by my people. What’d Parris say to you?”
“Well, he spat two names. Ikiri and Miguel Lopaz. From how his face looked, they’re really important. That’s where I need you. With all your Ministry resources, with those two names, you can tell me where in Africa we need to go, isn’t it? More importantly, you can get us there. With our guns.” What she lacked in a plan, she made up for in enthusiasm.
“I’m visiting Duvcorp,” said Tasker, evading the point. “I’ll ask them about it, shall I?”