Castle Murders (6 page)

Handsome or not, he was a lord. The peerage had devolved to him down through thousands of years. But he was also a king, and for that regal title he owed an ancestor who had got the notion that the lord of Perilous, master of thousands of worlds, should have his honorific upgraded to something more impressive. So Incarnadine was "King of the Realms Perilous," and actually did directly reign in several of the castle's domains. He had a hand in the politics of a hundred worlds, interests in thousands more. The piano-playing had been time stolen from a full schedule.
 

No time now.

He rose and began walking toward the door, but something rang off in a corner, and he turned and moved toward it. The device was an old-fashioned telephone, the upright kind with a conical mouthpiece and detachable earphone. Behind it, though, was a television screen, and beside that was a small device that looked like an automatic answering machine. Before he reached the desk on which all this lay, a somber recorded voice was already on the line:
 

You have reached Castle Perilous. We cannot answer your call at this time, but if — and let me emphasize the 'if' — you have some matter of great moment to impart, you may leave your name at the sound of the trump. On the other hand, if your call is being made on some contrived pretext, or, worse, is in the nature of an annoying solicitation, you run a grave risk.

He sat back down, propped a hand under his chin, and watched the screen. A form wavered on it, a face.

— we do not need storm windows, we do not need aluminum siding, we most certainly do not care to be the 'lucky winners' in some transparently fraudulent giveaway scheme. Let me now enumerate and quickly describe the variety of calamities that could befall you should any of the above conditions obtain. You could be incinerated on the spot —

The image on the screen clarified and sharpened: a thin-faced man with glasses.

— colonies of fire-lice could suddenly infest your spouse's —

He hit a switch on the answering machine and interrupted the recording, then unhooked the earpiece and put it to his ear.

"Howland, I'm here. Go ahead."

The man on the screen look relieved. "I gotta say, that is one intimidating answering-machine message."

"It screens out the bothersome calls."

"No kidding. I was half tempted to ring off myself."

"Glad you stuck it out. What's up?"

"Well, it's Tweel. He's made his move, I'm afraid. His dengs moved in on all our operations across the river — casinos, sporting houses, joy dens, wire parlors, everything."
 

"A hostile takeover, eh?"

"I should say. All the upper-level managers were let go, and Tweel's creatures installed."

"Did he even try to make it legal this time?"

"Oh, sure. The stock transactions are on record. He acquired controlling interest in all the subsidiaries through the usual junk bond issue. Then he sent out his demons to do the actual dirty work and make it stick."
 

"Any resistance on our part? We lose anybody?"

"Yes, two of our boys bought it. Curt and Tully. A little scuffle when they moved in on the Fifty-eighth Street sporting house. Curt was feeling a little protective of one of the girls when one of the dengs tried to take her upstairs."
 

Incarnadine shook his head. "They had standing orders not to offer any resistance."

"Curt was a hothead, but I can't say I blame him. The girl was screaming her head off. Not that I blame her, either. Anyway, it was pretty gruesome. Tully tried to help, and both of them . . . well, they had to practically shovel them into the morgue wagon."
 

"They should have known better, but that doesn't make me feel any less awful about it." Incarnadine drummed the desk top with his fingers. "So what does Tweel expect me to do, do you think?"
 

"Hit back with all you have."

"What do you advise, Howie?"

"Well, as your counselor I have to advise you that if you do retaliate, we'll have a major war on our hands."

Incarnadine nodded. "That's inevitable."

"We'll lose a lotta people. And you can't kill a demon."

"Who says?"

Howland shrugged. "Unless this boils down to a shoot-out between the two of you."

"Is that what you think he has in mind?"

"I think he's setting something up like that. He knows you don't want all-out gang warfare. He's got you."

"So you figure he's calling me out."

"That's about the size of it, boss. Word has it that he holed up out in his place with extra guards ringed around it. He says he's waiting for you to make your move. Oh, by the way, I saved the worst for last. He's got Helen out there."
 

"She's there willingly?"

"I don't know. Boss, you know he's got her spelled somehow. I really think he loves her. Always has. Funny. He could have almost any woman he wants. But he carries a torch for the only one who ever jilted him. I know she loves you. Maybe that's why."
 

"I wouldn't be surprised. Anyway, so he says he's waiting for me?"

"Yeah, and he's claiming that he's the more powerful magician now. Says you're all washed up in this town." Howland pursed his lips and shook his head. "Boss, we sure could use some dengs on our side."
 

"You inevitably lose when you traffic in the Dark Arts."

"Pardon me, boss, but it seems like we're the ones who're losing at the moment."

"It only seems like it. But what are you advising? Cutting some sort of deal? Give up Hellgate?"

"Cut our losses," Howland said. "Get out with all the cash we can grab. We have areas of the city in which we're a lot less vulnerable."
 

"For how long? Tweel doesn't want any competition anywhere in the city."

"That's true."

"So, how long do you think we can hold him off?"

Howland shrugged. "I grant you there's an inevitable time factor, but buying time isn't all that bad an idea for now. Besides, boss, I don't think we have any choice."
 

Incarnadine sat back. "Maybe not. Howie, you go ahead and open up negotiations with their counselor. Stall them. I'll be at the Pelican Club inside of an hour."
 

"What are you going to do, boss?"

"While you're negotiating, I'm going to pay Tweel a visit out at The Tweeleries."

"Are you talking
alone
?"

"That's what I'm talking. He wants a showdown, he's going to get one."

"You'll never get near the place, boss. He's got the boys out in force, extra dengs he's conjured up, trip spells, all kinds of devices. And that place of his is like a fortress."
 

"The dengs are his trump suit. The rest is just dressing. And I can deal with demons pretty well. I happen to live inside of one."
 

"You oughta know, boss. I'll be at the office if you need me."

"Good. Take care, Howie."

"Good luck, boss."

"Thanks."

Incarnadine hung up and the screen faded to black. He let out a breath and shook his head.

"Tyrene will have to handle it," he said. He got up and made for the door, but again was thwarted by the jangling telephone.

"Things come in threes," he murmured.

The man on the screen had his back to the camera (of which there was none anyway, but no matter).

Incarnadine picked up the earpiece.

"Yes?"

"Is this the castle?"

"Yes."

"I was told to report."

"I see. Where are you?"

"In the village. I don't understand why I was summoned, or what I'm supposed to do."

"Ah. Well, I'm sorry, there's no one here who can answer your questions at the moment."

The man sighed. "It's always like this."

"I'm so sorry."

"It matters little. Shall I call again?"

"It's up to you. By the way, who shall I say phoned?"

"Call me 'K.'"

"Uh, K., listen — again, my apologies, but we're really up to our butts in alligators here."

"I understand. I'll wait around here for a while, if you don't mind."

"As I said, it's up to you. Sorry to cut you off, but I have to run."

"Goodbye, then."

Shrugging, Incarnadine hung up.

"Trials and tribulations," he complained. "But that's to be expected."

He ran for the door.

 

 

 

Library

 

"There sure are a lot of books here," Melanie said.

"You bet," Linda said.

The library was several stories high, spiral staircases communicating between levels. The second and third levels were galleries that looked out onto the main floor. The open stacks were on the ground floor, and they seemed endless. The place was as big as the biggest city or university library, if it wasn't a lot bigger. For all that, the place abounded with inglenooks and carrels and other cozy places to curl up with a good book. There were certainly enough books; most of them, however, were hardly what could be called light reading: ponderous tomes bound in ancient leather, formidable and daunting.
 

But not all.

Osmirik sat at a table with a stack of paperbacks in front of him. He was examining them one by one and making notations on index cards. A small-boned man with dark hair, he wore a simple brown cloak and soft black shoes with pointed toes.
 

Linda and Melanie came walking off the main floor and into the alcove where Osmirik was at work.

"Hi, Ozzie!" Linda said.

Osmirik looked up. "Ah. Lady Linda, how good of you to drop by."

"Just giving Melanie a tour of the library."

"Only too happy to have you."

"Melanie, meet Osmirik, the Librarian. Ozzie, this is Melanie."

Melanie smiled. "Nice to meet you, Osmirik."

Osmirik had stood, and now he bowed deeply. "The honor is mine, Mistress Melanie."

"What're you doing, Ozzie?" Linda asked.

"Cataloguing some new . . . acquisitions."

Linda looked. "Oh. More weird paperbacks, huh?"

"Yes. Not castle books, however. For that, we might be grateful."

"What have we got? Let's see. Boy, they all look interesting."

Osmirik said sardonically, "Interesting is an understatement. I was unfamiliar with this sort of literature until these books began showing up. They have greatly broadened my literary horizons."
 

Linda picked one up. "
Foundation's Robots
?"

"Deathless prose! Its use of allegory is on the order of pure genius."

She selected another and glanced at the cover. "What's 'cyberpunk'?" She tossed the book down. "Well, if you say so. Me, I never read this kind of stuff."
 

"I must confess that I, too, am at a loss as to what to make of them. But they have appeared here in the library. There must be some significance to that fact."
 

"Are you going to shelve them?"

"Oh, yes. I have already instituted a paperback shelf. They will be catalogued and become part of the General Collection."

"Can anyone use the library?" Melanie asked.

"All are welcome here," Osmirik said.

"If you can find anything good to read," Linda said. "Most of this stuff — pardon me, Ozzie, but most of it's pretty off-the-wall."

Osmirik nodded. "I must agree. But all of it is quite interesting. And useful, as far as the Recondite Arts are concerned."

"He means magic," Linda explained.

"Oh."

"Yes, magic and other occult subjects are somewhat over-represented," Osmirik said. "Given the nature of the castle, this is hardly surprising."
 

"Lord Incarnadine does a lot of research, doesn't he?" Linda said.

"Oh, yes. And some of the castle nobility, as well."

"Really? I rarely see any of those people in here."

"Most send call-slips, and the books are delivered, though some do come personally to search the card catalogue. The Earl of Belgard is a not infrequent visitor. And . . . oh, yes, Lord Arl was here just this morning."
 

"Don't believe I know either of them," Linda said. "Well, we're going to mosey on down to the natatorium. Melanie, do you feel like a swim?"
 

"Well, kind of. Sure, that might be nice."

Linda rubbed her neck. "This morning I woke up with stiffness right along here. Maybe a soak in the hot tub will work the kinks out. You'll like the pool, it's Olympic-size."
 

Melanie gave her head an unbelieving shake. "Just how big is this place?"

"Uh,
real
big."

Osmirik asked, "How much have you seen of our castle, Melanie?"

"Oh, the lab, the dining hall, the bedrooms, the kitchens, the ballroom —"

"And a few of the permanent aspects," Linda added.

"Yeah, they're something," Melanie said. "Forests, mountains, deserts, every kind of place you could think of. Some of them are strange."
 

"There are a lot of strange aspects," Linda agreed, nodding. "And wild aspects."

"What're those?"

"Ones that pop up out of nowhere. But we're not in a wild area of the castle."

"Do people live in these worlds?"

"Sure, some of them. There are a few that are deserted. Ruins and stuff. But some of them have people."

"And you say Earth is one of these worlds."

"Yup."

"How come more people don't know about the castle?"

Osmirik said, "You have hit on an interesting point, Melanie. The fact is that not all may pass through these portals."

"Really?"

"That's what we've come to understand," Linda said. "The portal may be there, but not just anybody can come through to the castle. It may be that not everybody can sense the portal."
 

"You may consider yourself among the Elect," Osmirik said with a smile.

"I guess I should," Melanie said. "Sometimes I think I've died and gone to a weird kind of heaven."

"Nah, you're still alive. Come on, let's whip up a bathing suit for you. Or would you rather skinny-dip?"