Chapter 7: "Signal Devices"

"Fancy meeting you here," Cooley greeted again. The reporter was once more seated in his chair, and Colinaude now thought how he hadn’t for a while now seen him any other way. Had someone told him just recently that Cooley had an infirmity, Colinaude would not have been remiss in assuming it was paralysis, which was a common enough ailment for super heroic aides.

"Imagine that," Colinaude said. "I trust it went well?"

"You can trust all you want," Cooley said. "I’m not sure why you’d want to waste it on someone like Preston, but it’s your trust. I have to because he’s my boss. You don’t have such ties, so why bother?"

"Because he’s your boss," Colinaude said, "and if you’re out of a job so is Solvent."

"Not really," Cooley said.

"I know," Colinaude said. "But I’m trying to salvage a poor choice of words here. Give me something."

"Okay," Cooley said, pulling the newspaper filled with notes one of Colinaude’s other informants, a subway aficionado called Hopper, had just made and given him this morning. One of Cooley’s main tasks was breaking the codes Hopper loved to mark them in, codes involving such things as circling certain letters on certain pages, probably something he’d learned from military practices of WWII, or at least films made about the war. "I somehow found the time while Preston was talking at me to look through the paper. Don’t worry, I didn’t miss much. He says the same things all the time. Hopi, I mean Hopper, chose one of his more characteristic codes this time. I love it when he makes it easy."

"Don’t tell him that," Colinaude said. "I think he’s trying to hide those notes."

"Well, he is," Cooley said. "If you somehow managed to ever lose the newspaper, which is I’m assuming the whole reason why he’s so perverse about it, not that I’ve ever known you to be careless…"

"Not counting Vinny," Colinaude interjected.

"…Of course not," Cooley accepted graciously. "So anyway, if anyone ever actually got their hands on one of these newspapers, they’d be more lost than a tin can in a bottle factory. They’d need to intercept a series of them, and then have some idea where to begin, which is what Hopper had you relay to me when we began these particular sessions. I think the point is…"

"I was wondering if you had one," Colinaude said.

"…Easy or not, that’s just how I view it," Cooley concluded, "based on familiarity. He’s got some more information on Cad’s operation here."

Colinaude took the paper in hand. "Always helpful," he muttered.

"What was that?" Cooley asked. "Are you okay, Cotton? You seem a little moody, and that’s just counting when you got back."

"I’m okay," Colinaude said. "Really. Cad’s either getting the squeeze from some competitors or he’s reining in his business. He’s reducing the size of his operation."

"He could be digging in, preparing to make the big one," Cooley said. "Are you sure you’re okay? I mean really. Don’t brush it aside. You can talk to me."

"I’m fine," Colinaude insisted. "Really, I’m fine."

"You get like this every time you’re preparing to close the deal on one of these guys," Cooley noted.

"Oh," Colinaude said, "is that when?"

"You know, no one’s expecting you to be perfect," Cooley said. "Doing this again and again has to have some kind of cumulative effect. The kind of people you’re constantly up against."

"What kind of people is that?" Colinaude said absently.

"I don’t know," Cooley said. "Cowardly lots?"

"I’m not qualified, or prepared, to make such assumptions," Colinaude said.

"Well," Cooley said, "if you ever want to talk about it."

"I’ll keep that in mind," Colinaude said. They both knew he was probably not going to. "Do you think someone else might be moving in on Cad?"

"There’s some code left," Cooley said. "Maybe Hopper has something to say about that, and not just another of his obscene jokes."

"Obscene jokes? I never see any obscene jokes," Colinaude said.

"You were raised Catholic," Cooley said. "What can I say? I didn’t want to offend you. Or, you know, by extension."

"You don’t have to worry about that," Colinaude said. "I’ll give you some time."

"And to that, I’m much obliged," Cooley said, "if you don’t mind my sounding old-fashioned. Funny thing, that. You can’t imagine how old-fashioned Preston is in his speech. It’s like he came out of an old newsreel. Maybe that explains why he never seems to have an original thought. That probably also explains how he got the editor’s job in the first place. He’s got the right sensibility, right personality. It’s certainly not because he’s qualified, but I think that’s the general opinion of just about every underling about their superior. Funny instinct, that. He asked about you, you know, wanted to know what the Eidolon was up to. He understands that I sit on the super hero pieces now. He wanted to know if I’d heard any incriminating stories. He would. Sick, twisted man. If I had something on him, you’d be the first to know. Got something."

Colinaude started. He hadn’t really been paying attention to Cooley’s ramblings, not because he was trying to ignore him, but rather out of a growing malaise. "Great," he said.

"Some bad news first," Cooley said. "It isn’t an obscene joke."

"And the bad news?" Colinaude said.

"The good news is that Hopper does have more to say about Cad," Cooley said. "He’s apparently warm to you and has taken steps to compensate."

"That doesn’t sound good," Colinaude said.

"It might explain Vinny," Cooley said.

"I’m not sure if I like that more than Neville," Colinaude said.

"Then here’s an even more unpleasant thought: Neville aiding Cad," Cooley said.

"Unlikely," Colinaude said.

"Not to dismiss it out of hand or anything," Cooley said.

"It’s just not possible," Colinaude said.

"Why is that? You have other sources? Because if you do, share them now," Cooley said.

"I do, just not anything about that," Colinaude said.

"As it turns out, I do," Cooley said. "If you recall the one I affectionately call ‘Ratbeard,’ he’s heard a few things about your agent. You may be a direr predicament than you thought."

"Conjecture," Colinaude said. "As it happens, I’ve made the same acquaintance recently."

"And he has yet to mention such corruption," Cooley said.

"I haven’t seen him in a while," Colinaude said. "When was the last time you did?"

"Yesterday," Cooley said. "But that was the first time in weeks. He said he’d been out of town. He’s never been out of town before. Until now I would never have suspected he had the means. I still don’t think he does."

"Then what do you suppose is going on? I’d hate to think he was trying to play both sides of a fence here," Colinaude said. "I’d make sure he got burned if that was the case."

"What’s that they say? Vengeance is a hero’s worst enemy," Cooley said.

"I never use vengeance as a motivator," Colinaude said.

"He might have been trying to lay low," Cooley said. "Information like that can be dangerous."

"Let’s hope I can find him, then," Colinaude said. "If there’s things he knows about Neville, I’d like to hear them."

"Suit yourself," Cooley said. "And best of luck. He wouldn’t tell me much, and I’ve known him a hell of a lot longer than you have."

"Well, I have better reason to know," Colinaude said. "You don’t have any other information you’re withholding, do you?"

"I wasn’t withholding anything," Cooley said. "I think you do have a problem."

"Maybe I do," Colinaude said. "But it’s not something I’m going to bother you with." He took that as an opportunity to leave, and he did so without another word to Cooley, with whom he’d never been so terse. None of this was making his day any easier, but the thought of his having a target painted on his back now only complicated things further. If people were looking for him, which meant he’d have to be more cautious than usual. It did explain how he’d been caught unawares earlier, which made Colinaude feel a little better.

This also meant that Neville might be better at tracking him than he’d thought, and that visiting the "Traverse Tracks," and the stunt he’d made about sticking around, was not as foolproof as he had liked to imagine. A consequence of this was that he might have put Cooley in danger, or worse yet his own activities, his leads, and his immediate future into uncertainty, thus negating all the progress he’d made on Cad. The obvious reaction from here was to avoid Cooley for a while, let the trail cool, if that was possible, or necessary. He came to see the reporter only once in a while as it was, a couple of times a week at best, sometimes only after Hopper had given him something to work with, so it was not as if this development would be entirely out of the ordinary.

What it would be was a stumbling block in their continued relationship. Uncertainty always was. But he couldn’t worry about that now. The remainder of the morning was now going to be spent seeking out Ratbeard and settling in for Cad’s noon engagement, and accomplishing both would be easier considering Colinaude was headed toward the same place for each: the rodent district. Ratbeard’s nickname considered, it seemed more appropriate all the time. He might have to come up with another designation for his own neighborhood after all, and let Hopper know about it.

Colinaude’s unending journey continued on. From the roof of the newspaper building he traveled above the city for as long as he could, feeling it only appropriate in his present condition that he be detached from its inner workings. If he was looking for comfort, however, he was not finding it. That was something he feared he would never find.