The Good,the Bad and the Uncanny

"Before he went crazy and ran off to the Deep School," growled Dash. "The job broke him like it breaks everyone."

"He left to save his soul," Shirley said firmly.

"Or what was left of it," said Dash.

"The job's not for everyone," said Walker. "It's always suited me just fine."

He looked at them both challengingly, and they looked away rather than meet his gaze. Walker glanced at me, to make sure I'd seen them defer to his authority.

"So," Walker said easily. "What are you doing these days, Dash?"

Dash growled at him, apparently deeply immersed in the dessert menu, so Shirley answered for him. I got the feeling that happened a lot.

"Dash is retired now. We both are. He gardens, and I work on our memoirs. Oh, the stories we have to tell! Not to be published until we're both safely dead, of course. It's not everyone who were legendary heroes back in the thirties and forties, then made an even more successful comeback in the seventies and eighties! We could have gone on… but we both felt we'd done our best. So now we just consult, on occasion, and let younger bodies do all the hard lifting. Isn't that right, Dash?"

"Even done some work for you, Walker, on the quiet," said Dash, gri

"But not too often," said Shirley. "We've earned our retirement."

"Don't you ever miss the old days?" I said.

"Sometimes," said Shirley, a bit wistfully. "We had a good war, really, chasing saboteurs and fifth columnists all over America… And the villains were all so colourful in those days. They had style. The Vril Power Gang, the Nazi Skull…"

"And Wu Fang," said Dash. "Put him away a dozen times, but he always got out. We should never have let him drink that Dragon's Blood, back in 'forty-one."

"Oh, hush, dear," said Shirley. "He was dying. And he wasn't a bad sort. For a Chinaman."

"Things were different when the Timeslip kicked us out here, back in the seventies," said Dash. "Appalling place, then and now. So we rolled up our sleeves and got to work. There was a lot to do."

"Never much cared for the seventies," said Shirley. "Terribly cynical times. Though the eighties turned out to be even worse… I was glad to retire. We stayed involved, though, helping train our successors. I worked with Ms. Fate, you know, when she started out. She's done very well for herself."

"What do you want with us, Walker?" said Dash. "You never show up unless you want something."

"I'm looking into Tommy's disappearance," I said carefully. "Working with his brother Larry, not Walker. And it would appear that your eldest, Hadleigh, is also involved in some way. I was hoping you could tell me something about him."

Dash and Shirley looked at each other, and they suddenly seemed older and more frail. Dash's hands closed together on the table before him, and Shirley put her hand over them.

"Can't say I approve of what Hadleigh's made of himself," Dash said finally. "Detective Inspectre for God's sake… We should never have left him alone, all those years. Not our fault, of course, but…"

"He fell in with bad company," said Shirley, glaring at Walker. "We'd hardly been back a year, before he disappeared. And when he came back… We don't talk any more. We never see him. He does write us the occasional letter, now and again. But it's not the same."

"He was our first-born," said Dash. "He meant so much to us. We had such hopes for him…"

"Larry and Tommy came later," said Shirley. "Good boys, both of them. Nothing like their elder brother. We had hopes for them, too… but Larry was murdered by his own partner, and we lost Tommy to the Lilith War."

"Never did like Larry's partner," said Dash. "That Mag gie Boniface… stuck-up little piece. Just because her family was big in voodoo…"

"I never knew what he saw in her," said Shirley.

Dash gri

"Oh, hush, you nasty old man," said Shirley. And they smiled at each other.

"Larry hasn't been the same, since he came back from the dead," said Shirley. "We try to look after him, as best we can, but he keeps us at a distance. As though we might be bothered because he's dead. The very idea. He's our son."

"Seen a lot worse than the walking dead," said Dash, nodding. "Lot worse."

"We spent a lot of time and money looking for Tommy," said Shirley. "After the War was over. But it was chaos everywhere, everything in such a mess… and there were so many people missing. No-one knew anything. Dash wore himself out, walking up and down the streets, looking for something, some sign… until finally I made him stop. We did think about hiring you, Mr. Taylor; but we heard you'd already tried your gift, to no effect, so what was the point? So we got used to the idea that our poor Tommy was gone, another victim of that damned War."

"Larry never gave up on his brother," said Dash. "Always was stubborn as a mule, that boy."

"They were both good boys," said Shirley.

"Good boys," said Dash.

They sat close together, holding hands, their heads bowed.

"We didn't do so well with our children," said Shirley. "Larry's dead, Tommy's gone, and Hadleigh… God alone knows what Hadleigh is. Three sons, but no grandchildren, and never likely to have any now. Was all that we did for nothing? We saved the world, on at least three occasions. President gave us medals. In private. And all for what? To grow old and see our children lost to us. Don't we deserve something for all we did?"

"We didn't do it for the rewards," said Dash, squeezing her hand. "We did it because it needed doing."

"Duty and responsibility," said Walker, nodding. "The only things that matter."

"Oh, fuck off, Walker," said Shirley.

I felt like applauding.

After the Londinium Club, Walker and I paid a visit to the Uptown Board of U

It didn't take me long to work out why Walker wanted me to meet these high city types. These were the people who supplied Walker with private and confidential business information, from the inside. Such as who was on the way up, who was on the way down, and who could be pressured or blackmailed… All so Walker could keep on top of things and apply corrections when necessary. More than one top business man with a pale and sweaty face eased me to one side to whisper how Walker had destroyed this person or that, or even made them disappear… because they put their personal financial interests ahead of the Nightside's.

No-one was allowed to threaten the status quo, not while Walker was on the job. No matter how rich and powerful they might think they were.

The Street of the Gods came next. Walker's portable Timeslip was working overtime now, slamming us from one place to another. Walker and I strode down the Street, side by side, and a whole bunch of Beings, Powers, and Other-Dimensional Deities decided to retire to their various churches, lock the doors, and hide under their altars until we were gone. Other Beings and their congregations made a point of coming out into the Street, just to be seen conversing amiably with Walker and me and demonstrate to everyone else that they were on good terms with us. And not in any way afraid of either of us. Walker was very polite, as always, and even allowed a few of the gods to bless him.