Death Cap - Sixteen - A Murder Which is Profitless Does Not Need to be Devoid of Amusement

Death Cap - Sixteen - A Murder Which is Profitless Does Not Need to be Devoid of Amusement

Death Cap - Sixteen - A Murder Which is Profitless Does Not Need to be Devoid of Amusement

So, why do they call him Dogbeater? I asked as I checked down both ends of the street. Dregs insisted on taking the alleys and backstreets, which was probably wise. There wasnt nearly as much traffic down those.

Ill give you three guesses. First two dont count.

I shook my head. Thats messed up, I said. Why do they keep him employed if hes known for beating up dogs?

Dregs grinned. It was an ugly sort of smile, with too many teeth. Because thats his job. The Bluertons will sometimes have dogs with them when they bust protests. Dogs can chase people down, and they can go low while most humans fight high. Then theres the mad dogs.

I imagine that Im about to be horrified; go on.

Dregs nodded along, as if he expected that. See. Sometimes a protest is small enough that the Bluertons showing up in force makes them look stupid. Theyre all about saving face. And sometimes they need to be... well, they need to make it look like theyre not responsible for breaking up a protest. So theyll train these big dogs. Give them a few potions so that they can heal over time, make them faster and meaner. Then, they let the dog loose near the protest. Mad dog runs to the protestors and rips a few throats and no one can point a finger to anyone. Just a mad mutt.

Holy shit, I muttered.

Nothing holy about it, Dregs said. Dogbeaters the one who trains those. No one likes him. Dregs pointed to an alleyway, and I followed him in. I was... actually starting to trust the hobgoblin, a little bit. He was a loose cannon, but his violence was mostly aimed in the same direction that mine was.

Right. So how do you want to do this? I asked.

The hobgoblin looked at me. This is your show. Im not allowed to just murder the Bluertons. Im just showing you the place. Maybe giving you a bit of a hand. Youre a little short to scale a fence.

I sniffed. Fine then. Tell me about his place, at least?

Dont know much about it. Just a shack like the rest of you humans live in. Got a place next to it for the cages.

Where I imagine he keeps his dogs, I said.

Yeah.

I thought a bit as we walked across the city. Surprisingly, we were heading towards the nicer slums, where the homes were a bit bigger and built more recently.

Eventually Dregs pointed to a building. One story, which was unusual, and with a decent footprint. There was a rusty tin fence around the property with an alley on one side. The home itself wasnt impressive. Back on Earth it would hardly qualify as a shed, but I supposed that in City Nineteens slums it might as well be a mcmansion.

There were skulls hanging off the sides of the fence, one every junction. Mostly dog skulls, a few cats maybe, and others that I didnt recognize. No one had grabbed them.

Lets walk around the place, I muttered while unwinding my scarf. It would make me a bit colder, but... Here, put this on.

Hell sleep himself to death? Dregs asked. Ive heard of folk dying that way. Not very reliable, not compared to a knife in the gut.

Yeah, but this is subtle. I dont need the Bluertons up in arms just yet. If they think Dogbeater here died because he was stupid, then they wont look at anyone else to blame.

Dregs grinned. Youre one messed up kid.

Yeah, well its their fault. I need some cloth. Tarp maybe. I think we can climb up onto the roof without too much difficulty.

It really wasnt hard to find something to clog the chimney with. There was some trash nearby, which included the torn remains of someones shirt. Wadded into a ball with a chunk of brick in the centre for mass and it was more than enough. I slid that into my satchel, then moved to the side of the house.

Dregs helped me up again, and I was thankful that I was so light because otherwise there was no way Id be able to pull myself up.

The big concern was noise. I didnt need to wake up the neighbourhood, or Dogbeater for that matter. Once I was on the roof, I moved very, very slowly. I kept low, and regretted not having some sort of stealth skill.

Howre you going to block it with that? Dregs asked from right next to me.

I squeaked and the roof clunked as I spun to find the hobgoblin standing right next to me. I hadnt heard him move at all.

A few of the dogs barked, and I winced as I heard Dogbeater moving around below us.

We waited. The man screamed at his dogs to shut up, and soon enough they did. Then things settled down. I waited another minute past that, heart thrumming hummingbird fast in my chest.

Then, when nothing happened for a while longer, I moved to the chimney carefully. I placed the brick and cloth over the opening, then shifted it around until the chimneys exit was mostly blocked. Smoke was still pouring out of it, most of the smoke even.

That was fine. I wanted the room to vent most of the smoke, just not all of it. Hed notice if the room filled with smoke, odourless or not.

Now what? Dregs asked.

Now we wait, I said. I moved back to the edge of the roof, then jumped down onto the top of the fence, and finally on the ground. Dregs did the same, but more gracefully and with half the noise.

I couldnt remember how long carbon monoxide poisoning took to act, but it wasnt too long. It was still early evening, so it probably wouldnt be too weird if we lingered.

So thats what we did, with only the occasional glance into the home to see how things were going.

When thin tendrils of smoke started to slip out from the poorly joined edges of the roof a while later, I knew the plan was working, at least a little.

***