by Glen Cook
I asked, "How can we help each other?"
"You wish to recover the boy, Cypres Prose, who has been taken captive by the recently arrived Masker elements. I wish to capture the two villains I was sent to apprehend. My superiors are growing impatient. I believe I may be able to locate the boy by locating the criminals holding him. I do not have the power to wrest him from the hands of his captors alone, however. Join me in doing that. Then get the boy to tell us where my criminals are hidden. Once I have them in hand I'll go away. Life here can return to normal."
"That's just about good enough to gobble up. Even if life here is never any normaler than it is right now. What do you think, Play? Are Lastyr and Noodiss desperate criminals?"
"I don't think they're any danger to Chodo Contague, based on the little I saw, but they never really acted like innocent men. Sounds like a workable swap. What are those two wanted for?"
"They are Brotherhood of Light. Their exact crimes are unknown to me. I do not need to know those to do my job."
I said, "If we're going to be partners we're going to have to call you something besides, ‘Hey, You!' You got a name of your own?"
He had to think about it. "As If, Unum Ydnik, Waterborn. Which I cannot explain so that you would understand. Call me Casey. I heard that name recently. I like the sound. And it will be easier for you."
In words my friend Winger might have used had she been around, this old boy was slicker than greased owl shit. He always had a good answer ready to go. Though I got no sense of insincerity from him. I was almost certainly less sincere than he was.
All the time we were talking Rhafi kept maneuvering back and forth, trying to reach the door with his sack of plunder. While trying to keep facing away from Casey and keeping me or Playmate in between.
I told him, "You can forget what I said, Rhafi. I think we're all going to work the same side."
The boy stayed behind Playmate while he said, "Kip won't give those guys up."
"Then maybe we'll just toss him back to the bad guys." I hadn't fallen in love with Cypres Prose during my brief exposure to the kid. I kept wondering what I was doing, not just dropping the whole thing. Doing a favor for a friend? I did owe for all those times when Playmate had done really big favors for me.
"Just leave the bag on the table, please," Casey told Rhafi. "I will return everything to its proper place. Mr. Garrett, when would you like to pursue this matter?"
"I'm going to take it as stipulated that you're the expert on the people holding Kip. How dangerous is that situation?" There was a time when I did a lot of work related to kidnappings and hostage holdings. Unless the villains belong to one of just a handful of professional gangs the victim's chances are slim. And they deteriorate with time.
"By the standards of your city those scoundrels are a waste of flesh. You people are more casually cruel to your own families and friends, without thought, than Maskers can be under full force of malice. The dangers enveloping Cypres Prose are almost entirely emotional and spiritual, perils of the soul your people almost entirely discount as irrelevant at best."
I could buy that. I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. Which was, probably, his point. "They aren't breaking his teeth or shoving hot needles under his nails?"
Casey managed to project an aura of horror so strong that it got me thinking about some of the other feelings I'd experienced since he'd shown up. "No. Nothing like that."
"Then, if he's in no immediate physical danger, I'm going home and getting something to eat. And maybe I'll take a nap." And then maybe I could dash over to Katie's and see what I could do to patch things up. Hoping her father wasn't home. Katie's father doesn't realize that she isn't twelve years old anymore. "And I'm sure Playmate is worried sick about his stable." Down deep Playmate has to know what monsters he's harboring.
Casey shuddered. He projected quietly controlled terror. He knew the truth.
I might like this guy after all. Even if I didn't trust him farther than I could throw the proverbial bull mammoth.
I suggested, "Why don't we all wrap up all our other business, then meet at my place in the morning. We can go find Kip from there."
"Your morning or real morning?" Playmate asked. "We need to get that established." He couldn't conceal his sneer.
In addition to his completely self-delusory regard for the equine race Playmate is a devoted adherent of that perverse doctrine which suggests that it's a good thing to be up and working ere ever the sun peeps over the horizon. Which goes to show just how broad-minded a guy I am. I still consider him a friend.
"Solar morning. But no before the crack of dawn stuff. Moderation in all things, that's my motto."
"Even in telling us what your motto is, evidently," Playmate cracked. "Because I've never been there to hear you state it. Before now."
"After sunrise," I grumped. "Rhafi, we're leaving now. You go out first. Playmate, you follow. Casey, I know you're a stranger here. But you've been here a while and those books tell me you've been trying to learn your way around. Here's a tip. Don't ever leave your door unlocked again. I guarantee you, next time you do these people here, your neighbors, will steal everything but your middle name before you get down the stairs to the street."
I backed out of the room myself. I retreated cautiously until I reached the head of the stairs. Needlessly. Casey never stuck his head out of his room.
29
"That was clever, Garrett," Playmate said after we hit the street.
"I thought so myself. But, knowing my luck, the Dead Man will be sound asleep when Casey shows up tomorrow."
Playmate chuckled.
I stopped the parade half a block from the yellow tenement. "Rhafi. What did you take?"
"Take? What do you mean? I didn't take... "
I had been fishing because it seemed in character. His response betrayed him. "I saw you. I want it. Right now. And no holding back."
"Aw... "
Playmate explained, "Look, if you make Casey mad he might not help us get Kip back."
There followed an exchange during which Playmate almost lost his temper because he couldn't make the kid understand how Casey could guess that he had taken anything that turned up missing.
Rhafi hadn't gotten the brains or the looks.
Rhafi began to look like he wanted to cry. But he held it in. He produced three small gray objects, two dark and one light, in varying shapes and sizes, though none had a major dimension exceeding four inches. Except for colored markings on their surfaces all three items looked like they had been cast from some material that resembled ivory or bone when it hardened. All three items had slightly roughened surfaces.
We stood in a triangle, facing inward, examining Rhafi's loot. I handled everything with extreme care. There was almost certainly some kind of sorcery involved with those things and I had no desire to wake it up. I concealed them about my person carefully. "Good. Now I have a job assignment for you, Rhafi. I want you to stay right here and watch that yellow brick tenement. See if anybody who might be our friend Casey ever leaves. Keeping in mind that he'll be wearing some kind of disguise. You saw the clothes and stuff he had."
"You want me to see where he goes?" As I'd hoped, he was all excited.
"No. No. Don't do that. I don't want you to end up like Kip. You just stay here till a man named Saucerhead Tharpe shows up. You'll know him by how big he is and because he has bad teeth. If Casey does leave, make sure you can give Saucerhead a good description of his disguise. Whatever, once Saucerhead shows up, you go home. I want you to tell your mom that we don't think Kip is in any physical danger, that we're on the trail, and that it looks like we might get them back as early as tomorrow. Got all that?"
"Sure, Mr. Garrett."
"Excellent. You make a good operative."
As soon as we were out of earshot, Playmate asked, "Do you believe that? That Kip's not in any real danger?"
"I think our new pal Casey believes that. I'm not sure how come but I could t
ell what he was feeling. Maybe it's because of all the time I spend around the Dead Man. Then I get close to somebody who probably communicates the same way and I just kind of cue in. I'll ask His Nibs."
"Uhm. Darn. I've got to find somebody to watch the stable. I can't keep walking away like this. The horses need attention. Somebody has to be there to deal with customers."
"Not to mention thieves."
"That's not a problem in my neighborhood." He stated that with complete conviction. I hoped his optimism wasn't misplaced.
"You ought to get yourself a wife."
"I'm reminded of an old saw about talking pots and black kettles."
He would be. "I'm doing something with my bachelorhood. I'm laying in memories for those long, cool years down the road. Look, I've got to send Saucerhead down to relieve Rhafi. Saucerhead will know where to find Winger. I can have him tell her to come over and cover for you."
Playmate made growlie noises. He grumbled. He whined. Winger has a million faults but her country origins qualified her to baby-sit a stable. And she'd probably do a decent job as long as she was getting paid. Assuming Playmate had sense enough not to leave any valuables lying around. Winger has a real hard time resisting temptation.
It was the getting paid part that had been giving my large friend problems throughout this mess. He'd made commitments without first considering the fact that somebody would have to part with some money to see them met.
Winger would expect to be paid. Saucerhead would expect to be paid. Garrett the professional snoop might be gouged for a favor or two but you couldn't expect him to pay his own expenses. And he was out of pocket already for help from several people, including Mr. Tharpe, Pular Singe the tracker, and the generous assistance of the Morley Dotes glee club and bone-breaking society.
Hell, even my partner, who didn't have much else to do and didn't require much upkeep, might insist on some sort of compensation, just so the forms of commerce were observed.
He can be a stickler for form and propriety.
Sometimes I suspect he isn't aging all that well.
Playmate said, "There isn't any money in this, Garrett! You saw Kayne and her kids."
"We could always auction off a few horses. They're begging for them down at Kansas and Love's, way I hear."
Playmate was so aghast he couldn't even sputter. From his point of view my simple mention of a slaughterhouse was so far beyond the pale that he found it impossible to believe that such words could have issued from a human mouth.
And I just couldn't resist needling him. "Which is hard to understand, what with all the surplus horses there ought to be these days."
"Garrett!" he gasped. "Don't. Enough. Not funny, man."
"All right. All right. You'll wake up someday. And I'll sing a thirty-seven-verse serenade of ‘I Told You So,' outside your window."
He just shook his head.
"I'll get Winger headed your way. Maybe we can work out a deal where we'll all take a percentage of the profits from Kip's inventions."
That actually began to sound like a good idea once it got away. I might talk to the Dead Man. And to Max Weider at the Weider brewery, where I'm on retainer, next time I ran a surprise check on floor losses for him. Max Weider has a good eye for what people might want to buy and plenty of practical knowledge about how to get them together with your product so they have an opportunity to realize just how much they can't live without it.
Moments after Playmate and I parted my head was awash in grand schemes that would make me one of TunFaire's great commercial magnates.
30
The Dead Man was still awake. And still intrigued. Which left me vaguely uncomfortable. Usually a major part of the work I do consists of getting him to wake up, then getting him interested enough to participate, then keeping him awake until we finish. Any prolonged period of self-stimulated interest and cooperation generally constitutes a harbinger of an equally prolonged period where neither cataclysm nor calamity will stir him.
I described my day and refused to rise to the bait when he chided me for having knocked off work so early.
It might be interesting to interview the mother and sister. Arrange to bring them around... You are incorrigible, sir.
"So don't incorrige me."
A weakness for punning is one of the onset signatures of senility, Garrett. I would suggest that a hands-off approach might be the safest policy with these women, if indeed your characterization captures the reality.
"I probably can't argue with you there. But, oh, are they scrumdidlyicious to look at."
A status you appear to accord almost any female you encounter if she is able to stand up on her hind legs.
"Unless she's related to Dean. It's a marvel how many homely women that family can pull together in one place."
The Casey creature. You did indeed feel that he was honest?
"Yeah. Well, he thought he was. We need to talk more about how I was sensing him. If that was for real, and I think it was, I want to be able to use it. As long as I have a good feel for what he's thinking I can keep him from putting one over on us primitives."
Primitives? He knew what I was getting at but wanted me to articulate it better so I'd be clearer about it in my own mind.
"Possibly ‘primitive' is the wrong word. He had an aura of superiority about him. It had a strong moral edge to it. A self-righteousness. Like Dean, only much more carefully concealed."
Dean doesn't hide much. He isn't concerned about getting along with anybody. He knows he's right. When you're right other people have to worry about getting along with you.
We reviewed my day again, me underscoring events that had attracted my attention. "You see how I came to that conclusion? Even the criminals are too civilized to hurt somebody. If they're actually criminals."
Intriguing. It might be interesting to explore a system of thought that is, indeed, that alien.
"I set it up so we'll all get together here in the morning."
He will not come.
I didn't think he would, either. But I could hope.
"Where's the Goddamn Parrot?"
In transit here as we converse. The watch on the genuine Bic Gonlit has not been particularly productive. However, Mr. Gonlit did meet with Reliance's people. He has not given up on collecting the bounty on Miss Pular. He did have a prolonged argument with the ratmen concerning his fee. He took the not unreasonable position that he ought to be paid because what he had been hired to do was to find her. Which he did. But now they insist that he has to get her out of this house, away from you, and deliver her to them. Mr. Gonlit then argued that they were destroying their own credibility by changing the terms of a contract while that contract was in force and that that could not help but come back to haunt them. They would not listen. They seem to have an exaggerated and irrational fear of your prowess as a street fighter. I suppose it is possible that they have confused you with someone else.
"That must be it. I sure never worried anybody before. Now what's going on?" The pixies out front were acting up.
Mr. Big has arrived. But take your time letting him in. There are watchers. They do not need to know that we are aware of the bird when it is out of our sight.
"Watchers? Reliance's people or Relway's?"
Both of those and possibly more.
"More? Who?"
I believe Colonel Block mentioned a strong interest on the Hill.
He had, hadn't he?
Singe suddenly bustled in with a tray of food and drinks suitable for a party of ten. She offered me one of her forced smiles. "Dean is teaching me how to prepare meals."
"Tell him he has to let up on the spices a little when he's working with you. You have a delicate and precious nose."
"And hello to you, too, Mr. Garrett. How was your day?"
"Evidently sarcasm is on the training schedule, too. My day was pretty much like every working day. I walked a couple thousand miles. I interviewed a lot of people who were either crazy or born-ag
ain liars. Tomorrow I'll round up some of them and go check out something that might sort out the liars from the loons."
"I will go with you."
I barely got my mouth open.
She will go with you.
"Well, that's nice of you. I hope Reliance isn't in too black a mood when he catches us."
"I do not fear Reliance. Reliance fears me." Singe spoke around a mouthful of roll. The already-depleted state of the tray she'd brought warned me that I'd better grab fast if I wanted my share.
What she said was at least half-true. Getting Pular Singe back must, by now, be as much a fear of consequences matter as it was a bruised ego thing for Reliance. Strongmen, and even strongrats, have to keep on demonstrating their strength. The moment they show a hint of weakness some younger, hungrier strongarm is going to reach up and pull them down.
I glanced at Singe—she waved a fried chicken wing and nodded to let me know it was some good eating—then at the Dead Man. Old Bones wasn't sending it out but I could sense that he was entertained. He knew I was eager to run off and find Katie. I'd been rehearsing my most abject excuses and humble apologies all day long. I wanted to get cleaned up and get going, to take my personal life back.
I wondered how much Singe knew. I wondered if Dean's sudden interest in Singe might not be anything but another triumph of the old man's basic decency. He didn't approve of Katie, though you'd never guess it from overhearing one of their conversations. Katie was too much like me. And I've mentioned his attitude toward my approach to life.
Ain't none of us going to get out of it alive so we might as well get all the enjoyment out of it we can while we've got it.
I said, "I need to get cleaned up."
First you need to let Mr. Big into the house. He is becoming impatient. I believe he is hungry. In any event, he is about to denounce your taste for —
"I'm on my way." That damned wonder buzzard was invincible.
Somebody, once upon a time, said you surround yourself with the friends that you deserve. I need to take some time to lean back and think about that.