The Russian was yelling in Russian now and the man in the white tuxedo seemed to see him for the first time. He let go of the other man’s belt.
“We’ve got the van,” the other man said.
The big man with the missing ear stepped up really close to the man in the white tuxedo, glared at him, and took the other man’s jacket. “Okay, Rozzer,” he said, turning to Rez. “You know the drill this one. Old hat. Same as leaving that house in St. Kilda with the bastard Melbourne tabs outside, right?” He draped the jacket over Rez’s head and shoulders, slapped him encouragingly on the upper arm. He walked over to the pink strips and drew one aside, looking out. “Fucking hell,” he said. “Right then, all of you. It’s move fast, stay together, Rez in the center, and into the van. On my count of three.” 271 43. Toecutters Breakfast “You aren’t eating,” Blackwell said, after he’d cleared his second plate of links and eggs. He’d appropriated this dining room on one of the Elf Hat’s executive floors, and insisted Laney join him. The view was similar to the one from Laney’s room, six floors below, and sunlight was glinting from the distant parapets of the new buildings.
“Who put out the word that Rez was dead, Blackwell? The
idoru?”
“Her? Why d’you think she would?” He was using the edge of a
triangle of toast to squeegee his plate.
“I don’t know,” Laney said, “but she seems to like to do things.
And they aren’t necessarily that easy to understand.”
“It wasn’t her,” Blackwell said. “We’re checking it out. Looks as though some fan of his in Mexico went berserk; used some fairly drastic sort of ‘ware-weapon on the Tokyo club’s central site. Took that over from a converted corporate website in the States and issued the bulletin. Called on every fan local to Tokyo to get up immediately and go to that love hotel.” He popped the toast into his mouth, swallowed, and wiped his lips with a thick white napkin.
“But Rez was there,” Laney said.
Blackwell shrugged. “We’re looking into it. We have more than enough on our hands, now. Have to dissociate Lo/Rez from this death hoax, reassure his audience. Legal’s flying in from London and New York for talks with Starkov and his people. Her people too,” he added. “Going to be busy.” 273
“Who were those kids?” Laney asked. “The little redhead and the Japanese hippie?”
“Rez says they’re okay. Have ’em here in the hotel. Arleigh’s sorting it out.”
“Where’s the nanotech unit?”
“You didn’t say that,” Blackwell said. “Now don’t say it again. The official truth of the night’s events is currently being formulated, rnd that will never be a part of it. Am I understood?”
Laney nodded. He looked out at the new buildings again. Either the angle of light had changed or that parapet had shifted slightly. He looked at Blackwell. “Is it my imagination, or has your attitude on all this undergone some kind of change? I thought you were adamantly opposed to Rez and the idoru getting together.”
Blackwell sighed. “I was. But it’s starting to look like something of a done deal now, isn’t it? De facto relationship, really. I suppose I’m old-fashioned, but I’d hoped that he might eventually wind up with a bit of the ordinary. Someone to polish his gun, pick up his socks, have a baby or two. But it isn’t going to happen, is it?”
“I guess not.”
“In which case,” Blackwell said, “I have two options. Either I leave the silly bastard to his own resources, or I stay and I do my job and try to adjust to whatever it is this is going to become. And at the end of the bloody day, Laney, regardless, I have to remember where I’d be if he hadn’t come behind the walls at Pentridge to give that solo concert. Aren’t you going to eat that?” Looking at the scrambled eggs going cold on Laney’s plate.
“My job’s done,” Laney said. “It didn’t work out the way you wanted it to, but I did it. Agreed?”
“No question.”