A Night in the Lonesome October (13 page)

    
"That's where I should be coming up," she said.
 
"When I reach the top I'll pass through the kitchen, if he's gone by then, and explore the farther side of the house first.
 
If he isn't, I'll go down the long hall on the near side and investigate all of its darkened chambers."

    
"Sounds like a good plan," I said.

    
We let ourselves down to ground level and rounded the corner to the basement window.

    
"'Luck," I told her as she entered.

    
I went back to the window and watched the kitchen.
 
The man was in no hurry to leave, nibbling as he apparently waited for water to boil, taking out a willow-pattern plate and bowl from a cupboard, nibbling some more, hunting out utensils from a drawer, turning up from another cupboard one of those white cups with the gold rim and gold flower inside that everybody has, taking another nibble. . . . Finally, I saw Graymalk at the head of the stair.
 
How long she had been there, unmoving, watching, I was uncertain.
 
When his back was turned she slipped into the near hall.
 
As I had no vantage on that area, I made a few circuits of the house to pass the time.

    
"Checking out our new neighbor, Snuff?" came a voice from a tree to the east.

    
"It never hurts to be thorough," I replied.
 
"What about you, Nightwind?"

   
 
"The same.
 
But she's not a player.
 
We're almost sure of it."

    
"Oh?
 
You've met?"

    
"Yes.
 
She visited the masters yesterday.
 
They feel she's harmless."

    
"Glad to know that someone is."

    
"Unlike the vicar, eh?"

    
"You've been talking to Quicklime."

    
"Yes."

    
"I thought you at odds.
 
I heard you'd dropped him in the river."

    
"A misunderstanding," he said.
 
"We've smoothed it over since."

    
"What did you give him for the vicar?"

    
"Needle's nightly feeding route," he said.
 
"Maybe he plans to ambush him and eat him."
 
Nightwind made a chuckling sound, something halfway between hoot and gasp.
 
"That would be amusing."

    
"Not to Needle."

    
He chuckled again.

    
"That's true, isn't it?
 
I can almost hear him crying, 'This is not funny!'
 
Then _gulp_, and we'd all have the last laugh."

    
"I've never eaten a bat," I said.

    
"They're not bad.
 
A little salty, though.
 
Say, since I've run into you maybe we can do a little business, nothing major, but we take whatever's there, eh?"

    
"Usually," I said.
 
"What've you got?"

    
"After I heard about the vicar I went looking around his place.
 
Met his companion...”

    
"A big white raven," I said.
 
"I've seen it."

    
"Hm.
 
Well, I decided on the direct approach.
 
I flew up and introduced myself.
 
Her name's Tekela, and she seemed behind on the Game and trying to catch up.
 
Didn't have much to trade, but all she wanted was a list of the players and their companions.
 
She'd get it from someone else if she didn't get it from me, I figured, and I might as well get whatever she had for it.
 
First, though, she did know that you're one of us, and your bird-eating friend.
 
She told me she'd seen you a few nights back, with another big dog, dragging a body toward the river.
 
That was the missing officer, wasn't it?"

    
"I won't deny it."

    
"Did you or Jack kill him?"

    
"No.
 
But the body turned up too near home for comfort."

    
"And you were just getting rid of it?"

    
"Would you want the thing in your front yard?"

    
"Certainly not.
 
But what I'm curious about is your friend.
 
Tekela recognized you as she swooped by, but not the other dog.
 
So she followed it when you parted.
 
She said that it went to Larry Talbot's place."

    
"So?"

    
"We've been puzzled whether or not he's a player.
 
One argument against the assumption was that he hadn't a companion.
 
Now...”

    
"What was Tekela doing way in the hell out in that field that night?" I asked.

    
"Presumably, she was patrolling the area in general, as we all do."

    
"'Presumably'?" I said.
 
"Her master was involved in that man's death, and she went looking for the body after I'd moved it and found it.
 
She was keeping an eye on it to see whether whoever'd put it there would be back to do any more with it."

 
   
He was silent, and he shrank a little within his feathers.
 
Then, "That's what I was going to trade you for the story on Larry's companion," he said.
 
"But do you know _how_ he died?
 
She did tell me that."

    
Just then I saw it.
 
I'd a vision of the officer, drugged, knocked out, or tied up upon the altar as the vicar blessed an edged instrument.

    
"Ceremonial killing," I said, "at one of his midnight services.
 
It was early in the cycle for one.
 
But that's what happened.
 
Then he left the remains at our place for a bit of misdirection."

    
"He needed it early for the extra power, because he'd gotten off to a late start.
 
All right.
 
I'll give you something else for Talbot."

    
"Concerning what?"

    
"The Good Doctor."

    
"Done.
 
I haven't heard anything about him for a while.
 
The dog is a stray from town.
 
Name's Lucky.
 
I give him some of my food when he's around and he does favors for me.
 
He hangs around Talbot's place, too, because Talbot saves scraps for him.
 
He's too big for anyone to want to feed on a regular basis, though, which is why he hasn't a real home.
 
You might even spot him in the woods or fields some night, hunting rabbits."

    
"Oh," Nightwind said, rotating his head ninety degrees to stare at the manse.
 
"That spoils one of Morris's new theories.
 
You're a calculator, aren't you?"

    
"My, Quicklime was chatty."

    
"It just came out in passing," he said.
 
"If Talbot were indeed a player, and with the vicar now in the Game . . . well, things would be moved around interestingly, wouldn't they?"

    
"Yes," I admitted.

    
"So we're both checking the place out."

    
"True," I said.
 
"I don't _know_ that Talbot's not a player.
 
But if he is, Lucky's not his companion."

    
"Interesting.
 
Have you, or Lucky, seen any other candidates about his place?"

    
"No.
 
He seems to prefer plants to animals."

    
"Can a plant be a companion?"

    
"I don't know.
 
They're alive, but kind of limited in what they can do.
 
I don't know.
 
Maybe."

    
"Well, this will all shake down in a few days, I'm sure.
 
In ample time for the work to be done and the world…Should I say 'redeemed' or 'preserved'?"

    
"Let us say 'messed with,' either way."

    
He closed his left eye and opened it again.

    
"And the Good Doctor?" I prompted.

  
  
"Ah, yes," he replied.
 
"He was the other one Tekela knew about.
 
But I was intrigued when she insisted that there are three people living out there, not two."

    
"Oh?"

    
"So I flew out to investigate, during another of those nasty storms that always seem in progress in the area.
 
And she was right.
 
There was a big fellow lurching about the place, drunk perhaps.
 
Biggest man I've ever seen.
 
He was only about for a little while, during the height of the storm.
 
Then he lay down on that fancy bed in the basement, and the Good Doctor covered him up, entirely, with a sheet.
 
He didn't stir again."

    
"Strange.
 
Bubo have anything to say about this?"

    
"Bah!
 
You ought to send Graymalk after him, if I don't get him first.
 
Rats aren't as salty as bats.
 
Tougher, though. . . . He's worthless for information.
 
Won't trade for anything.
 
Either he's stupid, ignorant, or just closemouthed."

    
"I don't think he's stupid."

    
"Then I'm not sure he knows where his best interests lie.
 
Either way, he's not much use to the rest of us."

    
"I'll have to corner him sometime."

    
"Don't eat the tail.
 
They're no good."
 
He chuckled again.
 
"If you find out more about Talbot or this place, let's talk again.
 
Plants . . . hm?"

    
He spread his wings and swooped away to the south.
 
I watched him vanish into the night.
 
Formidable.

    
I circled the manse again, checking at a few windows.
 
Then I heard the back door open.
 
I was near the front at the time, and I rushed around, concealing myself behind a tree.

    
"Good kitty," said the Great Detective, in a well-controlled falsetto, "come visit us again sometime."

    
Graymalk was deposited on the back steps and the door was closed.
 
I cleared my throat, but she sat there for a time grooming herself before wandering off in the other direction.
 
Suddenly, she was beside me.

    
"Are you all right?" I asked her.

    
"Fine," she said.
 
"Let's walk."

    
I headed southward.

    
"She has a good memory, that old lady," Gray finally said.

    
"In what respect?"

    
"Her servant spotted me, on a sudden return to the kitchen, and she heard me call out.
 
She came back and called me by name.
 
She was very nice.
 
Even gave me a saucer of milk, which I felt obliged to drink.
 
Who'd've thought anyone would look at a cat well enough to recognize her later, not to mention remembering her name?"

    
"Maybe she likes cats.
 
Must have, if she wanted to feed you."

    
"In that case, you'd think she'd have one of her own.
 
But she doesn't.
 
There were no signs."

    
"Just has a good eye and a good memory then, I guess."

    
We crossed the road, kept going.

    
"I guess so," she said.
 
"So, I got to look around pretty well before they found me."

    
"And . . .?"

    
"There's a windowless room with a wide door and a niche in its far wall, which is of stone, by the way.
 
That old place has been through a lot of changes.
 
Anyway, the niche seemed about right to have held an altar at one time.
 
There were even a few small crosses chiseled into the stone, and a bit of Latin, I think it was."