by Glen Cook
"Yeah?"
"Pressure again. You don't feel it down here. The Hill is in a panic. Some people up there are carrying on like the Venageti were at the gates. I need something fast. Anything."
"Tell you what. This doesn't pan out, you pass the word for them to keep their daughters out of the Tenderloin."
"Give me a break, Garrett."
"I mean it. There's a fad amongst the deb set. Go down and play sleazegirl. That won't make their fathers happy, but it's a fact. It looks like our killer picks his victims from rich girls working the quarter."
"That won't make anyone happy."
"Not when it gets out. You recall, none of the stories we got about the victims ever mentioned anything like that. I think we talked to the wrong people. People who didn't know and didn't guess because the bodies weren't found near the quarter."
"Maybe some suspected. I can think of several stories that sounded like somebody trying to make somebody look good." Block sniffed, grunted, hawked. He was working on a cold. "We get lucky, maybe we won't have to deal with any of that."
"We don't get lucky, maybe we can let the word get around without it looking like it's your fault. It will come out if this goes on much longer."
Block grunted again.
I glanced over my shoulder. My instincts were right. We were being followed. "Did you maybe bring a few helpers?"
Block glanced back. "Yeah. They're mine. Clumsy, aren't they?"
"They don't get much practice."
"Thought it might be handy having a few guardian angels hovering."
"Aw. You don't feel comfortable in the Tenderloin?"
"Make fun while you can, Garrett. Things are gonna change."
Nice talk, but I wouldn't put one copper on it. Good intentions can't overcome the inertia of decades.
We reached the Passionate Witch. I checked my companions before I went inside. Tharpe was fine. And Block didn't look like the law. "We're going to be talking to some real lowlifes. Let me do all the jawing. No matter what. Understand?"
Saucerhead said, "Means you, Captain. You want to lose these guys fast, let them get a notion what you are." I gave Tharpe the fish eye. He said, "I know Downtown Billy Byrd, Garrett. Bottom of the barrel."
I said, "I'm going to try to bring them out here. You bring money?" I asked Block.
"Some. I won't let them rob me."
"They don't have imaginations that big. What they'd call robbery you'd call a tip." I shoved into the Passionate Witch.
The evening was fading but Downtown and his pals were hanging on, nursing their stone beer bottles, waiting for opportunity to knock. I knocked. Downtown grumbled, "I thought you forgot us."
"Had trouble finding my man."
"Huh?"
"Guy I work for. One who wants to know what you know. He's outside. Wants to listen. He brought money. You ready to deal?"
"Now?"
"You want to wait for the King's birthday? He don't have time to waste."
"Why don't he come in? It's wet out there."
"He don't want to show his face. You have to get wet anyway. You got to show us the way, right?"
"I guess. Shaker. Take care of the bottles." To recover their deposits, of course. "Dickiebird. C'mon."
I led the way. Downtown and Dickiebird followed like they counted on trouble. Each kept a hand inside his shirt. Knives. Shaker wasn't near the bar, getting deposit refunds. He'd vanished. "Awful nervous, aren't you, Downtown?"
"Think about it, Garrett. We got a bunch of murders, Hill gals what probably got daddies that eat no-counters like you and me for snacks. Could get hairy."
"Sure could." I didn't like being included in his no-count family. I'm at least a one-counter. "But it hasn't yet. We're counting on what you tell us fixing it so it never does."
"Yeah?" He was starting to think about holding me up.
Block stepped out of the shadows. "These the men?" Saucerhead wasn't to be seen. Somebody had to watch for Shaker. Block looked damned evil in a bad light. He might do.
"Yes. They say they think they saw the last victim, who called herself Barbie, get snatched. They think they knew one of the snatchers."
Block eyed Downtown and Dickiebird. "What's the deal?"
"Huh?"
I asked, "You have a plan, Downtown? You got a price? Talk to us."
"Uh. Oh." Downtown looked around for eavesdroppers, or maybe to see if Shaker had him covered. "Yeah. Like this. You pay half now. We show you where to find your guy. He'll be home, I guarantee." Like he'd maybe checked while I was collecting Block. "He don't go out. You pay us off. We split. You forget you ever saw us."
"Not bad," I said. "Only let's make it you get the other half after we grab the guy and make sure he's the one you saw."
"Garrett! Take it easy, man. He'll know who fingered him."
"If he's the real thing, you won't have to worry about what he knows," Block said. "How much?"
Downtown tried to get a better look at Block. "This don't sound like nobody off the Hill, Garrett."
"Don't worry about where he comes from. Worry about earning his money."
"Yeah. Right. We figured about thirty marks would be fair. Ten apiece."
Small men have small ambitions. Block had trouble keeping a straight puss. He jingled coins, handed me three gold five-mark pieces. I passed them to Downtown, who stared at them in the light leaking from the Passionate Witch. "Damn." He was stunned by the certainty that he'd just blown a rare opportunity.
"Too late, son," I told him when he started to say something. "You set the price. Time to deliver."
"Uh. Yeah." He led off.
36
We walked maybe a mile, into an area of dense tenements occupied mostly by newcomers to TunFaire. Reasonable enough. The man we wanted couldn't have been in town long. Only the ignorant would've gotten into what he had.
Downtown and Dickiebird led us to a four-story row place in the middle of a long block. Pure people storage, though more upscale than most. Depressing.
The clouds parted, let a moonbeam sneak through. It was the only light, but I didn't complain. It was nice to have the drizzle stop, even for a little while. Downtown said, "Top floor, rear door. Hired a sleeping room all to hisself."
"You did a lot of research, Downtown."
His weasel face stretched in a nasty smile. "I knew somebody was going to want the goods on this one."
Block growled but stifled his opinion. Even starry-eyed idealists knew you couldn't sell TunFaire's people the idea of civic responsibility. Not after they'd watched their betters do nothing but look out for themselves for centuries.
"Top-floor rear," I grumbled, thinking of the climb. "Inconsiderate bastard."
"Right. You get him out, we'll finger him, we'll all go home. Right?"
"Right. Saucerhead?"
Tharpe materialized. He lugged a limp Shaker over one shoulder. "Yeah?"
"Just making sure you were there." Why had he bopped Shaker? Maybe just for the hell of it.
Block said, "Ripley, scout the place out."
Shadows detached from shadows. Downtown gawked as two men entered the row building. He knelt beside Shaker, muttered about maltreatment and distrust. I asked, "If you was us, would you trust you?" He didn't have an answer for that.
Block's man returned, puffing. "Somebody's in there, all right. He's snoring. There's only one door. Ain't no other way out. Unless there's a window."
Downtown volunteered, "There is. If he's got real spring in his legs, he could maybe jump across to the roof behind this place."
I said, "If he's asleep, he shouldn't have time to get up, open a window, make a jump."
"Better let me make sure," Saucerhead suggested, gently pointing out that he was the specialist.
"All right."
Saucerhead and Block and I went upstairs while Ripley went around back, just in case. We tried to be quiet, but there's something about your step when you're headed for trouble. I sensed sudden fear and al
ertness behind those doors where people were awake.
Block's other man waited upstairs. Block whispered, "Still snoring?"
He had to ask? Hell, yes, he was still snoring. I never heard anything like it. That ripping and roaring had to be one of the wonders of the world. "Careful," I told Saucerhead. He nodded.
Everybody got out of Tharpe's way. He seemed to swell up, then charged. The door exploded. Though I was right behind Saucerhead, it was over before I could contribute anything. Meat hit meat, snores turned to baffled groans, Saucerhead said, "Got him under control."
I said, "Take him downstairs."
Tharpe grunted. Block slid around, opened the window. "Got him, Ripley. Get around front."
We clumped downstairs. I smelled the fear from behind those doors we hadn't destroyed. The more I thought how this was for those people, the less I liked what I was doing.
Our prisoner was groggy when we hit the street. Block demanded, "Is this the man?"
Downtown and Dickiebird stayed out of the moonlight while edging closer. "Yeah," Dickiebird said. "That's him."
I asked, "You saw this man help put the girl into the coach?" I was playing a role now and Saucerhead was good enough to catch my cues. I believed Dickiebird. The prisoner was one of the men who'd tried to kidnap Chodo's daughter. We had a different killer but the same assistants, apparently.
"That's the guy, Garrett," Downtown insisted. "What do you want? Come on. Pay up."
Block had his helpers take the prisoner while he paid up. "You know these three men, Garrett? In case this is a con and I want to find them?"
"I know them." I was still reserving the incident at Morley's place, couldn't explain my confidence in them.
"Hey, Garrett! I ever do a number on you?"
"Not yet, Downtown. Go on. Enjoy yourselves." A man could make ten marks go a long way in this part of town.
Downtown and his buddies flew off like the breeze. With money in hand, they would be hard to find. For a while.
"You want to help with the questioning?" Block asked.
"Not particularly. Only if you insist. What I want is to go to bed. I've been knocking myself out finding this lead. I do want to hear what you find out from him."
"Sure." He shook my hand. "Thanks again, Garrett. Winchell. Get him moving."
I didn't say, "Anytime, Captain," because he was the kind who would take me up on it.
37
The Dead Man wasn't impressed. He refuses to be impressed by anything but himself. He's afraid I'll get a big head.
He did relent, though, when I returned from watching Block and his troops, with great fanfare, before numerous official witnesses, raid an abandoned brewhouse and nab a creepy old man who was, beyond doubt, the perpetrator of the most recent murder. Clothing and body parts were recovered. These monsters liked their souvenirs. Not to mention that the old boy spat a ton of butterflies, some poisonous, before they subdued him.
Subdued meant dead. Again. I didn't see that part, but the dozen Watchmen they carried off on stretchers implied that Block was right when he insisted there had been no choice.
The Dead Man remarked, I do hope Captain Block exercises appropriate precautions.
"I think he will."
Excellent. So it would appear that the matter is closed.
"Except for collecting from Block."
Indeed. Take the rest of the evening off. Sleep in tomorrow.
"We're sure generous with time that isn't our own, aren't we?"
Tomorrow you must resume the investigation as though nothing has been accomplished. Continue seeking Miss Contague. Try to identify potential victims. And take a closer look at this fellow you rooted out tonight. He may have had more than one associate.
"He did. But the other guy headed out of town before we finished arresting the first one. He lived in the same dump. So what the hell? You finally gone gaga? You think we got the wrong killer?"
I am confident your famous luck held and you swept up the very villain. But you got the right man before and Death did not miss a stroke.
"You don't think it'll take?"
I have strong hopes. But I think a wise man would prepare beforehand against the wiles of evil and the ineptitude of the Watch. It would be most excellent if everything worked out. But should it not, no time will have been wasted. Not so?
"All a matter of viewpoint. I'm not the guy who gets to sit here daydreaming. I'm the one who runs back and forth till his legs get worn down to the knees. I'm going to bed. Wake me up when the war's over."
Should the worst occur, you will regret having failed to take minimal precautions.
Sure. All right. So maybe I'd play with it some more. Just in case. What could it hurt? Did I have anything else going? Anyway, there were some pretty pretties around the edges of the thing. I might luck onto one who was sane and sociable.
Staying in just meant doing time with Dean's cronies, anyway. The amount of beer those old boys were putting away while they were supposedly rehabbing upstairs, it would've been cheaper to hire professional help.
38
It was like nothing in my experience. I couldn't fathom it. The Dead Man was frothing with ambition. He had hold of the case like a starving dog a bone. He wouldn't let go.
It was easier to get out of the house, into the drizzle, and do legwork than it was to stay in and argue. Especially with Dean taking the Dead Man's side.
It might be time to think about an apartment.
The Dead Man still had Block digging through the records too. Block was our best buddy now. We'd turned him into the Prince's fair-haired boy. He was the hero of the Hill. His name was at the top of the short list to head the new, improved, serious, and hopefully useful Watch. What we hadn't been able to get him to do was pay his bill. He meant to stiff us.
He said he'd pay up just as soon as he was sure we'd given him the permanent solution he'd wanted to buy. Right. He meant to stiff us.
I didn't care if he was the Dead Man's buddy. I didn't care if he was tight with Prince Rupert. I had him on my list to turn over to the Saucerhead Tharpe collection agency.
Meantime, amidst all else, I maintained my thrilling surveillance of that ferocious threat to the peace, Barking Dog Amato, mainly by collecting his reports, skimming them, then passing a few appropriate comments to Hullar so he could give something to the daughter. Barking Dog's autobiographical ambitions dwindled as he foresaw the advent of better weather. I was grateful, especially after he went into rehearsals for his new, more forceful act, designed with the help of the Dead Man.
Days hurried past. I lumbered around town trying to get some line on the old-time killings. I got nowhere. If there was any glory to be had, Block wanted his boys to get it. I wasn't allowed access to any public records.
Evenings fled too. I made and lost friends in the Tenderloin. People down there were appalled by what had been done to those girls—but they were more appalled by what making potential future targets safe might do to business.
The consensus was, you got the guy. Don't bother us.
The Dead Man fell back on an ancient and adolescent device for getting some of the women out of the Tenderloin. He sent anonymous notes to their families.
Six days after my amazing coup involving Downtown Billy Byrd, I told the Dead Man, "I've found the girl. In fact, I've found two of them. One of them would have to be it."
Candy, at Hullar's place, of course. And the other?
"Dixie Starr. She works Mama Sam's Casino."
Dixie Starr?
"Really. Call it her business name. Barbie was the only victim who came close to using her real name." The most recent victim had been one Barbra Tennys, daughter of a viscount with obscure connections to the royal family, said family including Prince Rupert. Barbra's mother was a stormwarden on duty in the Cantard. No proofs would convince her father that his daughter had been selling her favors at auction, for kicks, before reality slithered dread tentacles into the fantasy. "Dixie's name came u
p before, at the Masked Man. This is a girl with problems. Candy, on the other hand, is a real innocent on the street. I don't think it'll be hard to find out who she is. I doubt she'd notice if I just followed her home."
And the identity of the Dixie woman?
"I have it already. She's Emma Setlow. Her father and grandfather are meat packers who found a better way to preserve sausages. They made their mint off army contracts."
And you have gotten nothing useful from your search for information from the past?
"Block's made sure I can't get near any official records. From what I can see, though, he's not doing much looking himself. Whatever he says. He's too busy making political hay and spreading his influence throughout the entire Watch."
I suspect he will change his attitude.
Damn if I didn't think he knew something he wouldn't share.
There came a dawn when there was an actual break in the rains. Dean became so excited that it was still dawn when he wakened me. I cussed and threatened, but he won out. He got me interested. What did daylight look like without rain? My body whined and dragged, but I hauled out and headed for breakfast.
Dean had the kitchen curtains back and the window open. "Place needs airing out."
Probably. I shrugged, sipped tea. "Streets are going to be crazy."
Dean nodded. "I need to do some shopping."
I nodded back. "Barking Dog will launch his new show, the rain doesn't start up. I can't miss that."
Everyone in town would find some excuse to get out, even knowing everyone else would be in the streets.
"At least the city will be clean," Dean observed.
"It will. The rains lasted long enough for that."
"Now, if people would just keep it that way." He delivered a plate of biscuits, steaming, straight from the oven. Drooling, I left him to do the talking.
I didn't hear it, which meant I'd grown distracted. That had been happening more and more as more and more the women of my heart became the women of my imagination. Anyway, I looked up and found the old boy absent. Puzzled, I started to get up. Then I heard him coming down the hall, talking. He'd answered the door. He'd let someone inside.