Deadly Quicksilver Lies

by Glen Cook

  “Waldo Tharpe.”

  “Saucerhead. Sometimes I forget he has a real name.”

  “And your friend Morley told me about a case involving a girl named Maya and something called the Sisters of Doom.”

  “He did?” That startled me.

  “It’s pretty obvious, Garrett. You’re an idealist and a romantic. With big clay feet, maybe, but one of the last good guys.”

  “Hey! Wait a minute. I’m turning red here. Anyway, there’s never been anybody more pragmatic than Mrs. Garrett’s little boy.”

  “You can’t even convince yourself, hard boy. Go. Find Emmy Jenn. Help her if she needs it. I’m getting out of the way. You don’t need distractions.”

  “That’s where we disagree.”

  “Down, boy. When you’ve wrapped it up, send me a message at my father’s house. I’ll be knocking on your door before you can say Chastity is a naughty girl.”

  “Uh-oh.” Not again.

  “What?”

  “Don’t get mad. I don’t know who your father is.”

  “You didn’t investigate me?”

  “I didn’t see a need.”

  “My father is the Firelord Fox Direheart.”

  Oh, boy. I made a squeaking noise.

  “Can you remember?”

  Squeak. I don’t dally with the daughters of sorcerer nobility. I don’t relish the honor of having my hide bind somebody’s grimoire.

  “Don’t let the title intimidate you. He’s just old Fred Blaine at home.”

  Right. What I’ve been looking for all my life, a girlfriend whose pop is a frontliner but wants me to slap his back and call him Fred.

  “You’ll get in touch?”

  “You know I will, devil woman.” I wouldn’t be able to resist.

  “Then get back to your quest. I can find my way home.” Cute little frown. “And then Daddy will get in his ‘I told you so’ about the hospital job. I hate it when he’s right, because he’s always right about people being cruel and selfish and wicked.”

  I collected a farewell kiss and headed for home wondering why one of Karenta’s leading sorcerers was here in TunFaire instead of working the cleanup detail down in the Cantard.

  47

  I slipped in the back door. Slither and Ivy were in the kitchen, one drunk and the other cooking. Slither said, “Yo, Garrett. The cupboard is bare.”

  “Need a new keg, too,” Ivy slurred.

  “Sing, Johnny One-Note,” I grumbled. If they didn’t like it, they ought to do something about it.

  Up front, the Goddamn Parrot was squawking about neglect. I wondered if Slither had started eating parrot chow, too.

  I wondered what the Dead Man would think if he woke to find himself in this zoo.

  I said, “I guess that means it’s time you moved on to greener pastures.”

  “Huh?”

  “You done anything to find work? To find your own place? I think I’ve done my share.”

  “Uh...”

  “He’s right,” Ivy said. His tongue tangled, but otherwise he was more articulate drunk than his sidekick was when he was sober. “We haven’t contributed here. It’s possible we’re not capable. And this is his home.”

  Damn. The man made me feel guilty when all he was doing was telling the truth.

  “I washed the goddamn dishes, Ivy. I did the laundry. I scrubbed woodwork. I even sprayed bugweed juice on the thing in the lib’ary to keep the crawlies off’n it. So don’t go saying I didn’t do nothing, Ivy. What the hell you keeping a mummy around for, Garrett? And if you got to, how come you got to keep such an ugly bugger?”

  “He makes a great conversation piece. The girls all tell me how cute he is.”

  That didn’t wake him up, either.

  Slither wasn’t listening. “And how about you, Ivy? What’ve you done? Besides suck down that horse piss till you make me wonder where the hell you put it all? You hungry, Garrett?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sink your fangs into these here biscuits. Gravy coming up.” He wheeled on Ivy, but Ivy had gotten going, headed up front. I shut them out, ate hastily, wondered if they’d gotten married. Slither started hollering the length of the house.

  “Enough!” I snapped. “Has anyone been around?”

  “Shit, Garrett, you got to be the most popular guy in town. Always somebody pounding on your door.”

  “And?”

  “And what? You ignore them, they go away.”

  “That’s always been my philosophy.”

  Ivy stuck his head in. “There was that cute little girl.”

  I raised an eyebrow, which was talent wasted on those two.

  “Yeah,” Slither said. “Ivy answered that one. He’s a sucker for a skirt.”

  Ivy shrugged, looked embarrassed.

  “Well, guys?”

  “I don’t know,” Ivy said. “I didn’t understand.” Hardly the first time, I thought. “She didn’t make much sense. Something about could you help her find her book yet.”

  Find her book? “Linda Lee?”

  “Huh?”

  “She tell you her name? Was it Linda Lee?”

  Ivy shrugged.

  No good deed unpunished, Garrett. I downed a last bite, knocked back a mug of weak tea, headed for the front of the house. T. G. Parrot seemed less intolerable by the hour.

  Everything is relative.

  I used the peephole.

  That was Macunado Street all right. Infested with quasi-intelligent life. Not much use studying it through a hole, though. I opened up and stepped onto the stoop.

  I spotted nobody but sensed the watching eyes. I settled onto my top step, watched the sweep of commerce. As always, I wondered where everybody was going in such a hurry. I nodded at people I knew, mostly neighbors. Some responded. Some hoisted their noses and wished I would vanish in a puff of smoke. Old Mr. Stuckle, who roomed at the Cardonlos place, was one of the friendly ones. “How you doing, son?”

  “Some good days, Pop. Some bad days. But every new day is a blessing.”

  “I heard that. You got Gert stirred, you know.”

  “Again? Or still?”

  He grinned a grin with only two teeth left to support it. “There you go.” Gert Cardonlos always took the other side when my neighbors got upset. I wondered whether she had changed her name to Brittany or Misty, she would have grown old without growing sour.

  Probably not.

  As I watched Stuckle breast the stream of flesh a neighborhood urchin sidled up. “There’s people been watching your place.”

  “No kidding?” Becky Frierka had illusions about getting involved in my adventures. I don’t mind having girls around, but they need to be a little older than eight. “Tell me about it.” You never know where you’ll learn something useful. And me listening would make Becky feel good.

  I don’t remember my father much. Mom always said one of his philosophies was each day you should do at least one thing to make somebody feel good. She probably made it up. People like Handsome let me know Mom did a lot of creative revision. But this was a good idea.

  “Thank you, Becky. That’s quite useful.” I offered her a couple of coppers. “Better scoot.”

  “You took that lady to dinner.”

  “What?”

  “Last night.”

  “So?”

  “I don’t want money. I want you to take me out.”

  Oh. Right. And would I ever hear the end of that? “How come you know what I did last night?”

  “I saw you go out the back. I followed you.” She put on her devil smile. “I know what you done.”

  “You a dwarf in disguise? You trying to blackmail me?”

  “No. But I could tell you who else followed you.”

  Whoa! I hadn’t noticed any tail. Not even her. “You have my attention, Becky.”

  “You going to buy me dinner? Same place as the blond lady?”

  “You got it.” No problem. Her mother would get me out of it. “Soon as I get this jo
b wrapped. Deal?”

  She was suspicious. I gave up too fast. But, “Deal. And don’t think you’re gonna weasel out.”

  “Talk to me about the somebody who followed me, brat.”

  “It was a man. A weird man. Not very tall but really huge-mongous anyway.” She spread her arms. “He walked funny.” She showed me how.

  “Mugwump,” I guessed aloud. I hadn’t seen Mugwump’s walk, but that had to be it.

  “Mugwump?”

  “Man’s name. Probably who that was. He have really big hands?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Great. “What did he do?”

  “Just followed you where you went. After a while he left. He’s really weird, Garrett. He talked to himself all the time.”

  “Probably from living in a neighborhood like mine.” I spied Saucerhead Tharpe headed my way. I could think of no reason for him approaching with such a purposeful stride. “Thanks, Becky. Time for you to scoot now.”

  “Don’t forget. You promised.”

  “Who? Me? Get on with you.” I hoped she would forget, but I never have that kind of luck. “So who died?” I asked Tharpe. The big goof wasn’t even breathing heavy.

  “Huh?”

  “You were charging this way like a guy loaded with the worst bad news he could imagine.”

  “Really? I was thinking about Lettitia.”

  “Lettitia? That off the menu at Morley’s?”

  “My lady. You haven’t met her yet.” Saucerhead always has a new girlfriend. I didn’t see any bruises so maybe this one was nicer than usual.

  “You came for advice to the lovelorn?”

  “From you?” His tone wasn’t generous.

  “From His Nibs in there. The world’s foremost authority.” On everything. According to him.

  “Speaking of him, you give him the latest from down south?”

  “Something happen?” The street didn’t have the edgy feel it gets when there’s big news from the Cantard.

  “Ain’t out general yet on account of it’s supposed to be a big military secret, but I heard from my sister’s husband who’s got a cousin works for the Stormwarden Burner Skullspite, First Cav Spec Ops raided Glory Mooncalled’s headquarters.”

  “Our guys have found his hideout about five times already, you silly groundpounder.” A good-hearted fellow, Saucerhead didn’t quite grasp reality. He’d been a plain old foot-slogging infantryman during his service. He suffered from the common army delusion that cavalry were some sort of elite. I mean, come on! They’re not even Marines. You add in the fact that they’re dimwit enough to voluntarily ride horses...

  “This was the real headquarters. An old vampire nest.”

  Something about his tone... “Don’t tell me.”

  “The very one.”

  “Life is weird.”

  An earlier case had taken me back to the war zone. In the course of events, Morley and I and some others invaded a subterranean vampire nest, a stronghold of horror. We were fortunate. We escaped. We passed word to the Army. The soldiers took time off from the war.

  The war with vampires takes precedence.

  That was before Glory Mooncalled rebelled. Just.

  One of my gang had been a centaur. “There’s more?” I asked. Tharpe was antsy. There was something.

  “Yeah. The attack was a big ass surprise. They barely figured out what hit them before it was over. They hardly destroyed any documents.”

  So Mooncalled’s deep well of luck was running dry.

  “What’s the bottom line?”

  “Them documents showed he wasn’t in the Cantard no more. Our big boys been chasing shadows.”

  I have my moments. “And the only documents the republicans did destroy were ones that might say where the boss was?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I’m a good guesser.” This would interest the Dead Man. His hobby was tracking and anticipating Glory Mooncalled.

  “They get anything out of the prisoners?”

  “Didn’t take no prisoners, Garrett.”

  “You always take prisoners.”

  “Not this time. Them guys never had no chance, but they wouldn’t give up.”

  I couldn’t believe that. However fanatic a group is there’s always a member who doesn’t want to die.

  “But that ain’t why I come here, Garrett.”

  “Oh?”

  “Winger wanted me to —”

  “Winger! Where is that oversized...?”

  “If you put a clamp on it, I might tell you something.”

  The best advice I ever got. It repeated suggestions from my mother and the Dead Man. You have a hard time hearing with your mouth open. I shut mine.

  “Winger said tell you that you and her ain’t pulling the same oar no more but you ought to know them West End pansies was coached to tell you what they told you. You was supposed to head off in a new direction.”

  He looked at me like he hoped I would explain.

  I considered. I thought Robin and Penny had talked straight. They maybe forgot a fact or three but steered a tack close to the truth. Why point me at Marengo North English? Why would Winger turn me away?

  Smelled like somebody was dragging a squashed skunk across the trail. Somebody big and blond with too much faith in my naivete. “How would she know?”

  “I figure she got it from her boyfriend.”

  “Her what? Boyfriend? Since when?”

  Saucerhead shrugged. “Been around a while, off and on. She never made no announcement. I don’t figure she wants us to know. You’d come out of your hole and hang out, you would know, though.”

  He had a point. Information was the blood of my trade and connections the bone. I wasn’t taking proper care of either. I did before I moved in with the Dead Man. “Go on.”

  “She just wanted to warn you. Didn’t want you should step in anything unexpected.”

  “That’s my pal. Always thinking of me. She couldn’t drop by herself, eh?”

  Saucerhead grinned. “You ask me, she don’t want to get close enough you can get your hands on her.”

  “Surprise, surprise.” I glanced over my shoulder. The boys and bird weren’t watching. “Think I’ll wander over to Morley’s. I’ll buy, if you want to come along.”

  48

  Morley didn’t seem thrilled to see Saucerhead. He gave me a dark scowl. I couldn’t understand why. Tharpe was a good customer.

  Dotes joined us anyway. It was obvious immediately that he was distracted. He listened with half an ear, kept one eye on the door all the time.

  I told him, “I’ve got most of it figured.”

  “Uhm?” How did he get so much incredulity into one grunt?

  “When Maggie Jenn left town, she was so bitter she never wanted to come back. Her lover had been murdered, his people hated her, but she still had to go through the motions to keep what he gave her, for the kid’s sake as well as her own. Her old pal and maybe brother Grange Cleaver played her to get the skinny on the Hill places he robbed, so she got him to play her whenever it was time to make her annual shows. Cleaver was happy to help. It gave him a way to get into and out of TunFaire without getting gobbled up by Chodo Contague. Along the way, he hooked up with the imperials, sold them some con, and got involved with the Bledsoe. Bet you he’s been stealing from the hospital and the Hill place both.

  “Now get this. One day along come Crask and Sadler with a tale about Chodo and his little girl. Cleaver eats it up. This is what he’s been waiting for. This is his big chance to get back into the big time in the big town. But there’s a loose end: Emerald Jenn. She’s in the city. A runaway. She knows the truth about Maggie Jenn and Grange Cleaver. And she’ll tell it.”

  Morley and Saucerhead looked like they were having trouble grasping it. Why? It wasn’t hard.

  “So Cleaver tries to set up an operation here, and nobody signs on because they know about Chodo’s old grievance. Except Winger. And she starts wondering what’s what. But she
smells a chance to score. When Cleaver mentions he wants to look for the girl without it being obvious it’s him looking, Winger drops some hints about me, figuring to use me somehow. Cleaver puts on his Maggie Jenn face and hires me, only I mess up by letting it drop that I was warned Maggie was coming. He smells a rat inside his outfit. Who it is doesn’t click right away. Being a good actor, he doesn’t have any trouble staying in character long enough for me to finish up at the Hill place. Soon as I’m gone, though, he takes off for his headquarters and sets it up to get rid of me. He’ll get somebody else to look for the girl.

  “Winger hears him sending his men out. She realizes it won’t be long before he figures out who told me he was coming. She grabs anything she can carry and takes off. She helps me get away from the Bledsoe.

  “She gives me a double ration of bullshit when I ask her what’s really going on. She still thinks she can make a big score, so now she’s staying away from me.”

  Sarge brought tea while I theorized. Morley poured, sipped, grimaced. Evidently the tea hadn’t been brewed from anything off a tea bush. Big surprise. They serve nothing normal there.

  Dotes was distracted. He was listening, but every time the door opened he lost his concentration. Still, he’d remained attentive enough to observe, “Your hypothesis doesn’t contradict any of the known facts.”

  “Hell, I know that. I made it up. But? I can tell — you have a but.”

  “Couple of them. You don’t contradict any known facts, but you don’t account for everything that’s been happening around you. And you’ve done a feeble job of examining Cleaver’s motives.”

  “What? Wait. Whoa. You just lost me.”

  “Chodo’s kid shirked any of the duties of a kingpin?”

  “Hardly. Ice and iron.” I had the gashes and frostbite to prove it.

  “Exactly. So whatever Crask and Sadler might claim, being here is a major risk for Cleaver. I’ve identified the pro who’s dogging you. His name is Cleland Justin Carlyle. He’s a specialist assigned to watch you. You get three guesses why. Only the first counts.”

  I nodded. “And, wonder of wonders, C. J. was never seen in these parts before I mentioned the name Grange Cleaver to my pal Morley Dotes, once said pal failed to meet up with Cleaver his own self.”