Shadows of Valderia: An Urban Fantasy Detective Noir

“Identify yourselves! Who are you?” Barney shouted up at them.

“And how is this hole so deep?” Ridley asked.

“Hush Ridley!”

“Seriously, we’re on the ninth floor!”

“We dead?”

“No Crip, we’re alive,” Jimmy reassured the big man.

The ragged group helped one another to stand and dust themselves down. Nairo looked around the rough cut hole and knew they were in trouble: the hole was at least three feet taller than her. There was no chance they would be able to climb out.

“You’re alive for now but I wouldn’t get too used to it,” the man barked from above them and his men guffawed again.

“What do we do?” Nairo hissed at the others.

“We can’t climb out,” Jimmy said.

“Yeah… I think we’re shit out of luck,” Ridley said.

He pulled a smoke out and lit it while dusting down his legs.

“Ahoy there good chap!” Barney cried. “We concede to your advantageous position.”

“Do yer concede?” The man repeated and laughed with his men.

“Yessir. If I had my white flag I would wave it!”

“Well… get them out the pit,” he barked at his men and disappeared from the pit’s edge.

A rope ladder, which was little more than a rope with knots at intervals, rolled down and the five of them eyed it suspiciously.

“I’ll go first,” Jimmy said.

He gripped the rope and pulled himself up. As soon as he was halfway over the edge of the pit, hands grabbed at him and yanked him the rest of the way. There was the sound of a scuffle.

“James!” Barney shouted.

Before they could stop him, he had vaulted up the rope ladder to defend his friend. There was more scuffling and it went quiet.

“We have to help!” Nairo grabbed hold of the rope ladder but Ridley blocked her.

“Oi!” Ridley shouted at the top of the pit.

“Wot?” This was a different voice than the man they had spoken to before, he sounded slightly winded.

“If we promise to come up peacefully then you got no need for the rough stuff.”

“How do we know you’ll keep yer promise?”

“You got our mates and I’ve been punched enough for one day.”

There was a pause and some hushed conversation.

“Alright, but no funny stuff. ‘Specially the big fella!”

Ridley turned to Cripper, but the fight had gone out of the big man. He looked miserable, like an animal trapped in a cage. All he wanted was out of the pit.

“Deal.”

Ridley took a deep breath and pulled himself hand over hand up the ladder. This time hands didn’t grab him and he was able to clear the pit.

“Are you alright?” Nairo called up.

“Yeah, ow… piss of with putting it on that tight!”

Nairo looked at Cripper and then gave him a reassuring smile before she hopped onto the rope and pulled herself up. As she cleared the pit she was greeted by six very dirty men. They all had bizarre hair that was shaved at angles and tied up at the top of their skulls. Their clothes seem to be a mishmash of items they had stolen or looted: too big, mismatching colours, and most were torn and bloody. Each one of them had a collection of necklaces around their necks, fashioned from a length of cord and various trinkets taken from their enemies. Four of the filthy men surrounded her friends. Barney and Jimmy had their hands tied behind their backs and their mouths gagged. Ridley was fussing and arguing with his own captor about the fit of his restraints. The remaining two men approached Nairo, leering at her and holding up a rope. Nairo felt herself tense but she didn’t put up a fight. Soon all five of them, including a dirty and traumatised Cripper, were bound and sat on the floor against a wall of the hallway.

“What’s the plan here, John?” Ridley asked one of their captors.

“Shut up!” he spat back. “Boss is on the way… and me name’s not John.”

“So why did you tell me your name was John?” Ridley asked.

“No I didn’t!” the man snapped, stamping his bare foot for emphasis.

“Must have been one of them,” Ridley said, his voice was placid, almost friendly.

“Who?”

“Your mates over there.” Ridley nodded his head at the other men who were gathered round sharing a cigarette and putting their fake floor back together.

“Who was it? Was it Colin? He’s always had it out for me,” the man twitched and scowled at the back of one of the men.

“Colin the fella with the hammer?”

“No, that's Charlie.”

“I thought Charlie was the fella in the nice hat.”

“No, that's Roger, and that was my hat before he nicked it!”

“I see,” Ridley leaned his head back and went quiet.

“Timothy, help us with these damned boards and stop working yer mouth!” Colin shouted at their captor.

Timothy grumbled a few curses and kissed one of the trinkets around his neck before walking over to help.

While the men were busy, Nairo was frantically looking around for something to cut her bonds with, but there wasn’t so much as a rusty screw around them. Jimmy was leaning back with his eyes shut while Barney was furiously mumbling under his gag. To their left, Nairo heard more footsteps as three more men arrived. The man striding at their centre was tall and stood with a proud posture. He had a thin, wiry frame and a weather beaten face. He had a strong jaw but was balding on his scalp with neatly combed hair on the sides of his head. He wore a fine dark morning coat that was too short at the sleeves, with a bright splash of blood across the front and a thick wooden club on his hip.

“Well, what the bloody hell is this rag tag group doing in my hallways?” He had a trilling northern twang to his voice marking him as originally from the agricultural suburbs in the forests north of the city.

“Found ‘em in the pit!” the man said, holding them captive.

“Did yer now?” The man squatted down in front of them. “And what, pray tell, were you doing in my pit?” He had a wicked glint in his eyes and the cruel upturn of his thin lips promised he was a man who took pleasure in his work. He ran his eyes across them all and then settled on Barney. “Ho ho lads! You’ve fished yourself a man o’ the Party by the looks of him. And he seems to have a lot to say.” He reached up and pulled the gag from Barney’s mouth.

“You filthy scoundrel! Who do you think you are! How dare you truss up a card carrying member up like some pig in a fair! We conceded the advantage! Do you have no shame? No sense of decorum? No respect for the Etiquettes!” Barney was practically frothing at the mouth, such was his indignation.

“Definitely a man o’ the Party.” The man shoved Barney’s gag back in his mouth and clouted him across the head with the back of his hand. “I’m Mickey Parqs of the Rebel Rabbits and this is my floor now.” He stood up and put the boots to Barney.

“Hold on wait!” Nairo shouted. “You can’t just do this!”

“Why not!” he snarled and spun on Nairo.

“Because… there are laws,” Nairo almost quelled under his ferocity but she kept her nerve.

“Laws?” Mickey stood there perplexed for a moment before he burst into uproarious laughter. “Sweetheart, this is the Houses of Parliament, shit on your laws!” He laughed in her face before turning back to his men. “Stand ‘em up!” Nairo was grabbed hold of and hauled to her feet. They were all slammed against the wall before the men retreated.

“Hey Cripper, if you’re going to snap these ropes and do your smashing thing, I think it should be sooner rather than later,” Ridley whispered to Cripper.

The big man just hung his head dejectedly. All the fight had gone out of him in this cramped dark hallway that wouldn’t end. In the process of being lifted Jimmy’s gag had come loose. He spat the gag out of his mouth and locked eyes with Mickey.

“You might not care about the laws out there but you damn well know there’s Etiquette in here and no one’s above it!”

“And who the hell are you?” Mickey growled at him.

“Peter Hicks’ boy,” Jimmy lied.

Mickey paused and considered this new information.

“Well you ain't a party man so what happens to you ain't really so important. Tell you wot though, I’m always in need of some fresh knuckles. Come over to the Rabbits and you’ll have plenty of work.”

The men around Mickey laughed again as if on cue.

“Come over to you?” Jimmy didn’t try to hide the scorn in his voice. “What? Some ragtag little offshoot taking advantage of a bit of chaos. What do you think is gonna happen to you when this Lockout ends?”

Barney, with indignant fury powering his mandibles, had managed to chew through his gag and it was at this point he exploded on the men.

“Turncoats! Traitors! The wrath of a thousand honourable men will crash down on your pathetic little group of misfit ministers! We shall wage such war it will make future generations shudder anytime they walk past this building! I will personally ensure your name is torn from every scrap of paper in this hallowed building and burnt in the fires of the centre hall! Your sad little insignia will hang from my bathroom wall and serve as a warning to all to…”

Barney’s tirade was extinguished by a sudden club around the jaw from Mickey’s club. Barney’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the floor unconscious. The smile dropped from Mickey’s mouth to be replaced with a dark slash.

“Party men… talk too much,” he grunted.

“Now you’ve done it,” Jimmy said, his eyes bright with fury.

“Oh yeah and what have I done?”

“He’s an Archibald-Sterling you idiot,” Jimmy said with a cold smirk on his face.

Mickey’s eyes widened and his face paled.

“What’s that?” one of the men behind him enquired.

“Let’s put it this way, his great great granda’s name is above the door when you walk in this place,” Mickey said with a sneer. He paused for a moment, running his tongue over his teeth. “Not a problem…” he said finally before turning back to Jimmy. “As long as he never leaves this floor.”

“What?” Jimmy said.

“Colin, reset the Slicer,” Mickey said while giving Jimmy a wicked smile.

“No stop! You can’t!” Jimmy hopped, his feet bound together, as he tried to stop the men grabbing hold of the barely conscious Barney. They clubbed Jimmy and Nairo back and Nairo as they tried to intervene.

“You can’t do this! This is murder!” Nairo cried out.

“Oh shut up you tart! Timothy!” Mickey barked at the man who had been guarding them. “Go back to the HQ. Get a couple of extra boys and some of those big burlaps sacks… and a saw. The rest of you grab hold of them.”

“Barney!” Jimmy screamed as he fought against the hands holding him down.

“How about a wager Mr Parqs?” Ridley didn’t raise his voice, but it still cut across the chaos.

“What was that?” Mickey said, turning his attention to Ridley.

“Well it’s bad luck to kill a stranger without giving him a fair shake,” Ridley explained.

“It is?” asked one of the other men.

“Oh yes, they say his spirit will haunt you forever more.”

“I’ve heard that!” cried another man fearfully.

“No you haven’t!”

“Yes I have! Happened to my n’uncle Teribald.”

“Yer n’nuncle Teribald was a drunk just like you!”

“You take that back or…”

“Shut up!” Mickey growled before turning back to Ridley. “What did yer have in mind?”

“A game… well not so much a game as a bit of magic,” Ridley said to him with a smile.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Three floors underneath here is a locker. In that locker is a payment meant for some fat minister. If you win the game I’ll give you the combination,” Ridley said calmly.

“And if you win?” Mickey said with narrowed eyes.

“If I win you let us go. Nice and simple.”

“No chance. I can’t let these two go,” he pointed his club at Jimmy and Barney.

“That’s fine. Let me and the girl go and you do what you want with the others.”

“What are you talking about Ridley?” Nairo hissed.

Ridley said nothing and kept his eyes firmly on Mickey, who mulled this over while rubbing the end of his club.

“How do I know you got any gold? Could be nonsense.”

“Your men can accompany us down to the locker,” Ridley offered.

“No chance. The second you see one of your party pals you’ll run,” Mickey growled. “The girl stays ‘til you come back with the gold.”

“Fine,” Ridley said. “Colin, I need something to use as a table.”

“How did he know me name?” the man named Colin gasped.

“Same way I know his name’s Roger,” Ridley said as he stepped forward, the rope falling from his wrists as if it were never tied.

“How’d he do that!” Colin cried while Roger gawped.

“I’m magic,” Ridley said with a wink.

The men quivered, kissing the talismans around their necks, before jumping up to find a table. They dragged a shard of broken wood and propped it up to make a makeshift table.

“So, what’s the game?” Mickey said, although he sounded less certain than he did before.

“Easy, I need a pack of cards,” Ridley held out his hand expectantly. “What, none of you have a deck of cards?”

“Give him some cards,” Mickey barked impatiently.

The men jumped and one of them fished around his pockets until he found a dogeared set of playing cards.

“Excellent,” Ridley began shuffling and cutting the cards with practised fluidity.

“Ridley, what is this?” Jimmy said, his voice cold as he eyed the PI suspiciously.

“Don’t worry Jim, I’m a professional,” Ridley answered without looking at him. “Right, it's a simple game…” Ridley's voice cracked and he hacked and coughed. “Charlie, could I get some water before we continue?” he croaked.

“‘E knows me name!” Charlie howled like a dog after its tail had been stepped on.

“Quiet fool!” Mickey snapped at him.

“‘E is magick, boss! Maybe we should be careful, ‘e might put a curse on us!” Charlie babbled.

“My nuncle Teribald…”

“Would you shut up about your nuncle Teribald!” Mickey snarled. “Colin, get him some water. Bathroom’s just there.”

Colin leapt to it and ran down the hallway. They heard the heavy clunk of a tap turning and the sound of water. He came sprinting back with a tin cup full of water. Ridley took it appreciatively and sipped while clearing his throat noisily.

“Oof, that dust is a killer,” he said, smiling at Mickey again.

“Get on with it,” Mickey growled.

Ridley set the cup down between them and went back to shuffling the cards. Mickey’s eyes followed his hands like a hound after the hare.

“Right, nice and easy,” Ridley said. “You ever played Deadman’s card?”

“Yes,” one of the men said.

“No you haven’t!”

“Don’t tell him that!”

“Shut yer idiot mouths!” Mickey snarled.

“Don’t worry it’s easy,” Ridley kept twirling the cards around and around as he explained. “We each draw one card and the other has to guess what it is and to make sure neither man cheats, we must mark the card with our blood,” Ridley raised his index finger and smirked.

“How the hell are you gonna guess my card?” Mickey growled with his arms folded across his chest.

“I’m magic,” Ridley repeated as he held the deck out to Mickey.

Again Mickey fell silent. He ran his tongue over his teeth as he thought.

“How much gold is in that locker?” Mickey said.

“Almost an ounce,” Ridley replied, watching Mickey’s eyes light with greed.

“Ok, let’s do it.” Mickey reached forward and pulled a card from the deck, careful to keep it hidden.

Ridley did the same and placed his card down in front of him.

“Now we need to mark them,” Ridley explained.

Mickey pulled a knife from his boot and pricked the end of his finger. He let the blood well up before pressing his finger on the face of his card. Ridley held his hand for the knife and Mickey hesitated.

“You either vastly overestimate me or underestimate yourselves if you think I can take all of you out with a steak knife.”

Mickey nodded and handed the knife over. Ridley pricked his finger and, with a showman’s flourish, he pressed his finger to the face of his card. With another bit of showmanship, Ridley twirled the knife and then stabbed it into the table between them.

“Okay, now I’m gonna pick my card up and have a look. To prevent any skullduggery, I’m going to have to insist you and your mates close your eyes while I look.”

“Ha!” Mickey snorted. “So you can try and do a runner the second our eyes shut! Nice try lad.”

“Fine, you look first and I’ll cover my eyes. Okay?”

“Don’t fall for it, boss!” Roger said, pointing an accusatory finger at Ridley. “His mates will see your card and tell him. That’s how he’s gonna cheat us!”

Mickey turned to Ridley, his eyes cold with fury.

“Ahh, you think you’re clever don’t you?” Mickey growled.

Ridley held up his hands.

“Nothing like that…”

“Then they have to shut their eyes too,” Mickey said, jabbing a finger at the others.

“Fair enough,” Ridley said.

He turned in his seat and looked at them. There was something strange in his eyes. Something that, despite everything she knew about Ridley, told Nairo to trust him. Nairo gave him one last look and then she closed her eyes.

“In fact, turn around.” Ridley instructed them. “That way no one can be accused of cheating.

The captive co-op did as they were told and turned to face the wall with their eyes shut.

“Okay Mr Parq, have a good look at your card,” Nairo heard Ridley say.

She heard the gentle gentle swish of a card being slid across the table.

“Now what?”

“Just put it back right here in the middle of the table next to the cup.”

“Okay.”

“One last thing Mr Parq,” Ridley said.

“What’s that?”

“There’s no such thing as Deadman’s cards.”

There was a sudden whooshing sound and Nairo felt an almost imperceptible wave of heat wash over her. Then the screaming began.

“My eyes!”

“He’s burned out my eyes!”

Nairo heard the table crash over and as she opened her eyes, she saw Ridley, knife in hand, dart to Jimmy’s legs and cut through his ropes. The Rabbits were howling and clutching at their eyes, falling over themselves as they screamed in pain.

“Run!” Ridley shouted over the din.

Nairo took off immediately and without thought.

“Cripper, grab Barney!” she heard Jimmy shout from behind her and then they were all tearing through the remainder of the hall.

“Turn left!” Jimmy screamed. “And wake up Barney!”

Nairo looked left and saw Ridley, red faced, and huffing.

“What was that?”

“Pepper Salt!” he shouted back to her breathlessly. “Nicked some back there. Didn’t think it would come in handy so soon!”

“You’re a bloody genius PI!” Jimmy crowed exultantly.

Their celebration was cut short as they heard running and cursing behind them.

“Guess it doesn’t last that long,” Ridley said.

Nairo looked over her shoulder and saw the Rabbits peeling after them, weapons raised, eyes bloodshot, noses streaming, and baying for blood. Jimmy, running next to Cripper, reached up and slapped Barney on the face.

“Wake up Barney! This ain’t the time for a nap mate!”

“Wots that…” Barney mumbled weakly. “What the devils going on, James?”

“We’re in the Houses on a mission. You took a bang to the bonce but you're fine,” Jimmy explained.

“Glad to hear,” Barney said, the strength returning slowly to his voice.

“Well bad news is, the fellas that did you in are currently on our six with murder on their minds and we’re coming up to the Civvie Portal and I need you awake and ready to deal with that.”

“Oh dear… this all sounds frightfully much for this time of the morning, James. Couldn’t we deal with this after lunch?” Barney mumbled.

“We’re dealing with it right now!”

They arrived at the Civvie Portal, which for its exotic name, turned out to be yet another stained wood door with frosted panelling and a heavy gilt brass knob. Cripper deposited Barny onto his feet where he swayed drunkenly.

“Wake up Barney!” Jimmy said frantically.

“They’re coming!” Ridley said.

The Rabbits were so close he could see the veins in their mad eyes.

“Now Barney!” Jimmy cried.

“Oh bother.” Barney straightened his jacket best he could and smoothed back his bouncy blonde locks. He cleared his throat and gave the door three clear raps.

The Rabbits were on them.

“Man of the Party to meet about Party business!” he shouted at the door and the Rabbit’s stopped dead in their tracks.

“‘Fraid we’ve got Party business with a Civil Servant, so you know what that means.” Jimmy eyed Mickey coldly.

Mickey made a motion to step forward and then stopped, chewing the inside of his cheek with hate in his bloodshot eyes.

“Let’s just do ‘em!” Roger growled, levelling a serrated blade at Jimmy.

“Do it and your whole party will be blacklisted and tossed out of here before you stop seeing double,” Jimmy snarled back.

“Alright lad,” Mickey said, nodding his head, a wicked grin on his face.

“I’ll definitely see you again,” Jimmy said to him.

“I’ll count down the days lad,” Mickey snarled back as they retreated.

“Who was that?” Barney asked, rubbing his jaw ruefully.

“Don’t worry, let’s get in.”