by Glen Cook
“There’s that. But it could be related to your other problems.”
“Morley, trying to puzzle it out will drive me crazy. I don’t want to bother.”
He gave me a look something short of a sneer. “Good thinking. You’re goofy enough now.”
I said, “Look, at this point what I do is just bull around and try to make things happen. When the bad boys get nervous, they do something to give themselves away.”
Morley chuckled. “You have style, Garrett. Like a water buffalo. What good will bulling around do if your villain was Tyler?”
“Not much,” I admitted.
“What about the cook? If she’s been around four hundred years, she might think the family owes her a fatter chunk than the old man was going to give her.”
I’d considered that in light of the fact that the non-human races don’t think like us and trolls are pretty basic. Somebody gets in a troll’s way, the troll flattens him.
“Cook’s time is accounted for when Hawkes got it. Not to mention, if she was on a horse and her weight didn’t kill it, it would leave tracks a foot deep.”
“It was an idea. How’s she look for poisoning the old man?”
I shrugged. “She’s got means and opportunity but I come up short on motive. She raised him from a pup. I’d think there’d be some love of a sort.”
He snorted. “You’re right. We’re not going to reason it out. Sleep on it. I’ll go haunt.”
“Don’t walk into the bedroom,” I warned him. “I have an ax rigged to carve sneaky visitors.” I’d decided to go back to the featherbed. The floor in the dressing room was too hard. Maybe I’d move later, like I’d been thinking.
Morley nodded. Then he flashed a grin. “Wish there was your usual compliment of honeys in this one. That would make it a lot more interesting.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
22
It seemed I’d just drifted off when somebody started pounding on the door—though the light through the window said otherwise. I cursed whomever and rolled over. I’m not at my best when wakened prematurely.
In the process of rolling I cracked my eyes. What I saw didn’t register. It was impossible. I wriggled into the down, the old hound searching for perfect comfort.
I sat up like I’d gotten a pin in the sitter.
The blonde smiled faintly as she drifted out my bedroom door. I didn’t even yell, I just gaped.
She’d been sitting on the edge of the bed looking at me. She’d gotten in without getting carved up. I checked the booby trap. It sat there looking back, loaded and ready to splash blood over half a county if some villain should cooperate and trip it. Just sitting here waiting, boss.
And the door was open.
It hadn’t worked.
That gave me the spine chills. Suppose it hadn’t been my lovely midnight admirer? Suppose it had been somebody with a special gift? I imagined being stuck to the bed like a bug with a pin through him.
By the time I got through the supposes and lumbered out of the bedroom, the blonde was gone. Without having used the hall door, where some obnoxious fellow was pounding away, trying to get my attention. He’d gotten my goat already.
I collected my head-knocker and went to see who wanted me up at such an unreasonable hour—whatever hour it was.
“Dellwood. What’s happened now?”
“Sir? Oh. Nothing’s happened. You were supposed to see the General this morning, sir.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I was too busy snoring to remember. Missed breakfast, didn’t I? Hell. I needed to diet anyway. Give me ten minutes to get presentable.”
He looked at me like he thought it might take me a year longer than that. “Yes sir. I’ll meet you there, sir.”
“Great.”
I’m getting old. It took more than ten minutes. It was twenty before I started hoofing it across the loft to the old man’s wing. I wondered about the blonde. I wondered about Morley. I wondered why I didn’t just go home. These people were nuts. Whatever I did, I wasn’t going to strike any blow for truth and justice. Ought to fade away and come back in a year, see how things stood then.
I was in a great mood.
Dellwood was waiting in the hallway outside the General’s door. He let me in. The preliminaries followed routine. Dellwood went out. Kaid followed after making sure the fire was the size and heat of the one that’s going to end the world. I sweated. The General suggested, “Sit down.”
I sat. “Did Dellwood bring you up to date?”
“The events of the night? He did. Do you have any idea what happened? Or why?”
“Yes. Surprisingly.” I told him about Snake’s whisper, our date, how I’d found him. “Dellwood suggested the cord might have come from this room.”
“Kef sidhe? Yes. I have one. Inherited from my grandfather. He collided with the cult around the turn of the century, when he was a young lieutenant sent to battle the crime rings on the waterfront. They were bad back then. One of the nonhuman crime lords had imported some sidhe killers. The cord should be there with the whips and such.”
I checked. “Not here now.” I wasn’t racked with amazement. Neither was he. “Who could have gotten it?”
“Anyone. Anytime. I haven’t paid attention to it in years.”
“Who knew what it was?”
“Everybody’s heard me maunder on about my grandfather’s adventures. And about the adventures of every other Stantnor who ever was. Since my son’s death there’s been no future to look to. So I relive the glories of the past.”
“I understand, sir. He was a good officer.”
He brightened. “You served under him?”
Careful, Garrett. Or you’ll spend your stay having the old boy bend your ear. “No sir. But I knew men who did. They spoke well of him. That says plenty.” Considering how enlisted men discuss their officers.
“Indeed.” He knew. He drifted off to another time, when everyone was happier—or at least he remembered them being happier. The mind is a great instrument for redesigning history.
He came back suddenly. Apparently the past wasn’t all roses either. “A disastrous night. Talk to me about those dead men.”
I gave him my theory about Snake having raised them.
“Possible,” he said. “Entirely possible. Invisible Black was the sort of bitch who’d think it an amusing practical joke to arm an untutored Marine with the weapons to accomplish something like that.”
The name meant nothing to me except that another sorceress had adopted a ridiculous handle. Her real name was probably Henrietta Sledge.
“Have you nothing positive to report, Mr. Garrett?”
“Not yet.”
“Any suspects?”
“No sir. Everybody. I’m having trouble making sense of the situation. I don’t know the people well enough yet.”
He looked at me like he was thinking I should be living up to one of those Corps mottos like “The difficult we do immediately, the impossible takes a minute longer.”
“What will you do now?”
“Poke around. Talk to people till I get hold of something. Shake it. I had one thought during the night. The man who’s been picking the rest off could be one who apparently left you—if he thought he could turn up for the reading of your will.”
“No sir. Each man executed an agreement when he joined me in retirement. To remain eligible he’d have to remain here.”
I lost some respect for him there. He’d bribed them and indentured them so he wouldn’t be alone. He was no philanthropist. His motives were completely selfish.
General Stantnor was a mask. Behind it was someone who wasn’t very nice.
I wouldn’t call it an epiphany but it was an intuition that felt true. This was a mean-spirited old man in a carefully crafted disguise.
I examined him more closely. His color wasn’t good this morning. His respite was over. He was on the road to hell again.
I reminded myself it wasn’t my place to judge.
&n
bsp; Then I reminded myself that when I remind myself, what I’m doing is looking for justification.
Someone knocked. That saved me confusion and stole the General’s opportunity to get righteous.
I’d sensed that coming.
“Enter.”
Dellwood opened the door. “There’s a Mr. Tharpe to see Mr. Garrett.”
The General looked at me. I told him. “That’s the man I had trying to trace certain items.”
“Bring him up, Dellwood.”
Dellwood closed the door. I asked, “Here?”
“Is he likely to report something you don’t want me to hear?”
“No. It just seemed an inconvenience to you.”
“Not at all.”
Hell. He was fishing for entertainment again. He didn’t care what Saucerhead had to tell me, much. He just didn’t want to be alone.
“Mr. Garrett, could I impose on you to build the fire a little?”
Damn. I was hoping he wouldn’t notice it was down to a volcanic level. I wondered if Kaid had a full-time job just hauling in fuel.
Saucerhead arrived lugging a bag. In his paw it seemed small. He hulks like a cave bear. Dellwood seemed a little intimidated. The old man was impressed. He cracked, “Cook sees him, she’ll fall in love.” That was the first I’d heard him try for humor. “That’ll be all, Dellwood.” Dellwood got out.
Saucerhead wiped his brow and said, “Why don’t you open a goddamned window? Who’s the old prune, Garrett?”
“The principal. Be nice.”
“Right.”
“What’s up?” I was surprised he’d make a trip out, considering what he was getting paid.
“I maybe found some of the stuff.” He dumped the sack on the writing table. Silver candlesticks. They wouldn’t have been remarkable if silver hadn’t become important lately.
“General?” I asked. “This your stuff?”
“Look on their bases. If they belong to the family, there’ll be a seahorse chop beside the smith’s.”
I looked. Little sea critters. “We have a lead, looks like. What’s the story, Saucerhead?”
Saucerhead has a kind of pipsqueak voice when he’s just making conversation. Doesn’t go with his size at all. He said, “I was jawing with some guys at Morley’s last night, bitching about the job. Looked like it wasn’t going anywhere. Talking about this and that, you know how it is. Then this one guy asks did I think there might be a reward for the stuff. I didn’t know, you never told Morley if there was or not, so I said maybe and did he know something?”
“To make a long story short?”
“He knew some fences I didn’t. Outside guys. So this morning I go to check them. First one I hit, he has the sticks. We talk a little, I threaten a little, he blusters a little, I make mention of how I know he don’t have a connection with the kingpin and I happen to know Chodo personal, would he like me to arrange an introduction? All of a sudden he’s eager to help. He loans me the sticks. I promise to bring them back.”
Which meant he would and, if the General tried to grab them, Saucerhead would walk through him and the rest of the house. He keeps his promises.
“Got you. Can the fence finger the thief?”
“He don’t know squat. Bought the stuff wholesale from somebody out in the country. He’ll sell the wholesaler’s name.”
“Did you follow that, General?”
“I believe so. This dealer in stolen goods bought the candlesticks from another dealer closer to home, here. For a price he’ll sell the man out.”
“That’s it.”
“Go beat it out of him.”
“It doesn’t work that way, General. He offered a straight deal. We should follow through on those terms.”
“Deal with criminals as though they were honorable men?”
“You have all your life, with those bandits off the Hill. But let’s not argue. We have a lead. We could settle the theft problem today. Saucerhead. How much does he want?”
I was thinking long-term now. An unconnected fence? He’d need friends. He could be nurtured and stroked on the head and maybe become a good source someday. If he stayed alive. People aren’t scared of fences the way they’re scared of Morley Dotes or Chodo Contague.
Saucerhead named a price that was pleasantly low. “It’s a bargain, General. Go with it. How much more are you willing to lose to avoid spending a few marks?”
“Collect from Dellwood. He handles the household monies.”
That sounded like a cue for me to get away from a place where I was uncomfortable. “I’ll take care of this, sir.”
Maybe Stantnor sensed my discomfort. He didn’t protest. But there was a glimmer of hurt in his eyes.
I’d never seen it in an old person before, but I’m not around them much. I’d seen it in children, the pain when an adult doesn’t have time to be bothered with them.
That hit me in the spot where I think of myself as one of the good guys. Guilt. Its lack is something I envy Morley. Morley never feels guilty. Morley does what he wants or has to do and is puzzled by the behavior of those of us who had mothers. Where does it come from, that niggling little nasty?
23
Saucerhead said, “That old boy didn’t look good, Garrett. What’s he got?”
“I don’t know. You’re going to help me find out.”
“Say what?”
“Dellwood, the General said give my friend enough to cover some upcoming expenses. How much do you need, Saucerhead?” Hand him a chance to make his trip worth the trouble.
He didn’t bite. Not very big. “Twenty. The guy tries to jack me up, I’ll pull his ears off.” He would. And wrap them with a bow.
“Get the name, then get the guy. Right? But find a doctor somewhere and bring him out here, too.”
“A doctor? You lost me somewhere, Garrett. What you want a doctor for?”
“To look at the old man. He’s got a thing about croakers. Only way to get one close is fool him. So you do that. All right?”
“You’re paying the freight.”
“Hurry all you can.”
“Right.” He was supposed to be too simple for sarcasm but I smelled a load there.
Dellwood gave him twenty marks. He left. I went to the front door, watched him head out in a buggy he’d probably rented from Playmate, a mutual friend. I grumbled about his expenses. The old man had given me a nice advance but I hadn’t counted on quite so many expenses.
Dellwood joined me. “May I ask what that was all about, sir?”
“You can ask. Don’t mean I’ll tell you. Part of the job. You going to tell the General I’m sneaking a doctor in on him?”
He gave it a think. “No sir. It’s appropriate. Except for yesterday he’s been sinking fast. He’s pretending to bear up today, but last night is gnawing at him, too. If there’s a way . . . Let me know if I can aid in the deception.”
“I will. I have a lot to do today.” Like what? Not that much specific. “I’ll let you know before Tharpe gets back.”
“Very well, sir.”
We parted. I went upstairs to see if Morley was in the suite. He’d have a part to play. As I reached the top balcony I spied my friend in white across the way. I waved. She surprised me by waving back.
Morley wasn’t there. Just like him, not to be handy when I needed him. Thoughtless of him. I grabbed my coat and headed out.
The blonde was still there. She wasn’t watching for me. I decided to take one more crack at sneaking up on her. Slipped up to the loft, across, went down.
Ha! Still there!
Only . . . My imagination had run away with me. This wasn’t my blonde. This was Jennifer wearing white and not the same white the blonde wore. She smiled kind of sadly as I approached her. “What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Life.” She leaned her elbows on the rail. I joined her, leaving a few feet between us. Below, our hero remained locked in mortal combat with the dragon. Chain passed without giving them a glance. I knew how the kn
ight felt. Us heroes like to be applauded for our efforts.
I answered Jennifer with one of those “Uhm?” noises that mean you’ll listen if your companion wants to share her troubles.
“Am I ugly, Garrett?”
I glanced at her. No. She wasn’t. “Not hardly.” I’ve known several equally gorgeous women who were more insecure about their looks than your less-than-average-looking ladies. “The guy who didn’t notice would have to be dead.”
“Thanks.” Trace of a smile, trace of warmth. She moved maybe three inches closer. “That helps.” Half a minute. “But nobody does notice. Even that I’m female.”
How do you tell a woman it isn’t her looks, it’s her inside? That, nice as she looks, she feels like a black widow spider?
You don’t. You fib a little to avoid the cruelty and hate.
Even standing close, with her radiating a need to be wanted, I couldn’t find any interest inside me.
I began to worry about me.
“You don’t notice me.”
“I notice you plenty.” Only somebody with very skewed standards, like maybe a ratman, would call her hard on the eyes. “But I’m taken.” That’s always an out.
“Oh.” That infinite sorrow again. That’s what it was. Sorrow. Sorrow that stretched back to the dawn of her days. An abyss that could gobble the world. “What’s her name?”
“Tinnie. Tinnie Tate.”
“Is she attractive?”
“Yes.” The redhead is in the same class as Jennifer. That is, the howl-at-the-moon class. But we have our problems, one of which is that we aren’t going anywhere. Sort of a can’t-live-with-and-can’t-live-without arrangement, neither of us with enough confidence to risk commitment.
I might have, with Maya . . . Or maybe she just said she was going to marry me so often that I accepted the possibility. I wondered what she was doing. Wondered if I was supposed to track her down. Wondered if she’d ever be back.
“You’re awful thoughtful, Garrett.”
“Tinnie does that to me. And this place . . . This house . . . ”
“Don’t be apologetic. I live here. I know. It’s a sad place. A ghost town all by itself, haunted by might-have-beens. Some of us live in the past and the rest live for a future that’ll never come. And Cook, who lives in another world, is the rock that holds us together.”