Faded Steel Heat (18 page)

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Authors: Glen Cook

BOOK: Faded Steel Heat
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“I try hard, anyway.”

“He also insists that you’re sympathetic to our goals.”

Remotely. “I believe I’ve mentioned that myself.” I inclined my head slightly so I couldn’t be convicted when times changed later.

“Then why haven’t you joined one of the rights groups?”

“I’m not a joiner. Unless you count the Marine Corps. And I wasn’t offered my preference that time. When I do have a choice I make my own. That’s why I’m in the racket I’m in. It lets me be my own boss.”

“Exactly.”

“Huh?” Often I hide my razor wits so guys like North English will underestimate me.

This wasn’t one of those times.

“You appear to be the perfect man to winkle out the truth about these Black Dragon people.”

Why not? I was working for everybody but the Crown Prince of Venageta already. Maybe I could get in with Black Dragon, convince Carter and Trace that I regretted my past transgressions and they ought to hire me to find out what that guy Garrett was up to. I knew a guy once, Pokey Pigotta, who used so many disguises and aliases that he did get hired to investigate himself.

“Garrett?”

“Uh? Oh. Yeah. Sounds good, we can work out the financial details. I’ve got some bones to pick with those guys.” I caressed the back of my head. I’ve been getting bopped way too often lately.

“Financial details?”

“Even us idealists don’t get much nutritional value out of serving a righteous cause.”

North English scowled and muttered. He was a notorious skinflint.

Bondurant Altoona suggested, “Pay the man and get on with it. You pinch sceats till the King squeals but put out his ransom in silver for
 
—”

“You’re right, of course!” North English barked, silencing Altoona. “It would be petty of me to quibble over a few coppers.” He yanked a purse from inside his waistband, tossed it at me.

I snatched it out of the air deftly. A few coppers, eh? I started to tuck the bag into an inside pocket of my waistcoat.

North English squawked. The Goddamn Parrot would have complimented him on his accent. His companions grinned. It didn’t look like he had many close friends among his own kind. He grouched, “I expect you to take only what you need to compensate yourself for your labors.”

“A guy’s got to try.” The grins got bigger when I opened the purse.

My eyes got bigger, too. What I’d assumed to be a rich man’s walking-around sack of coppers, which might include a silver piece or two in case he ran into something really exciting, turned out to be all silver salted with a few pieces of gold. Swiftly I calculated ten days’ fees and likely expenses, tripled them and applied my special unpleasant crackpot counter-discount. North English didn’t see what I took but he danced like a kid with a desperate need to pee. Silver still isn’t cheap, despite our triumph in the Cantard.

There were whispers among the others, some intentionally loud. Bets were laid as to whether or not North English would follow through.

To make sure I added several silver groats in case I ran into some big meal expenses, like, say, with a particular redhead while we were doing research, then passed the bag back. Eyes watched eagerly, hoping North English would open it up and reintroduce himself to all the survivors and mourn the departed.

He resisted temptation. “I’ll leave your name with my gateman, Mr. Garrett. He’ll have you brought to me immediately if you have anything to report.”

Just a glance at the rest of the room told me North English had numerous “friends” perfectly willing to pay nicely for an opportunity to learn what I discovered before I reported it to the man who had hired me.

North English told me, “That should be all for now, Mr. Garrett.” Embarrassed, he didn’t take time to offer specific instructions. Fine. I like it like that. Means they haven’t told me what
not
to do, where
not
to poke.

Excellent.

I backed out of there.

Weider and his bodyguard were waiting. The old man asked, “What’re they up to in there?”

“You’d know better than me. They’re your friends.”

“Only a few. North English and Clive. Faudie and Slink. They asked me to invite the others. They subsidized expenses. They wanted to get all the names in the rights movement together where they wouldn’t attract much attention. I get along where I can. It oils the hinges when I want something myself.”

“Favor for a favor. I understand.”

“Exactly.” He nodded toward Tinnie. “I’m all right. We’ll all be all right now. You and your friend go have fun.”

“Thank you.” I headed for Tinnie. But I wasn’t about to take time off now.

 

 

42

Let me sip a few pints of Weider dark reserve and I turn into a dancing fool. I made all the girls unhappy. I danced with them all. Tinnie got the most attention but simmered when I took a turn with Alyx or Nicks or Kittyjo
 

once, guardedly. I even spun a couple with the matron who had fallen in lust with me earlier. She told me she was Dame Tinstall. That rang no bells. Dame Tinstall had outstanding legs for a woman of her maturity. She made sure I noticed them, too.

Alyx was less pleased than Tinnie. Nicks was too friendly for a girl getting engaged, though she didn’t mention her feelings about that. Kittyjo, who looked like a shopworn version of Alyx, had little to say
 

good, bad, or indifferent. She did seem willing to let bygones be bygones. And Dame Tinstall left me in no doubt that she wanted to tuck me under her arm and take me home. I didn’t ask what her husband would think of her plan.

I took the occasional timeout to nurture my relationship with the boss’s product. I’m a very loyal kind of guy.

I wondered what had become of the Goddamn Parrot.

“What’s the matter?” Tinnie asked.

“Something’s wrong with me. I’m worrying about that damned talking ostrich of mine. Have you seen him?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t claim him right now. If I were you.” She had her devil smile on.

“How come?”

“He got thrown out of the house. You’re lucky nobody remembers who he arrived with.”

“I hope the owls get him.” He’d asked for it.

The majordomo, Genord, who hadn’t had a chance to yell much lately, approached us. He bypassed Alyx and Kittyjo. Alyx appeared incapable of harboring a kind thought about her big sister. Kittyjo, though, seemed only about half-alive and was completely indifferent to Alyx.

The majordomo handed me a folded scrap of paper. It had been used and reused. “A gentleman sent this in,” he husked. “He said it was important.”

Tinnie scowled, sensing more trouble. I feared she was psychic. Just when the evening was starting to roll, too. But that was my kind of luck. Wasn’t it? “Thank you, Gerris.”

The note said:
Must see you now. Critical. R.
The handwriting was primitive.

R? Who or what might R be? Who would know where to find me tonight? Relway? Who else? And didn’t that stir up the mixed feelings?

“Now what?” Tinnie demanded, her psychic side simmering.

“I don’t know. But I can’t ignore it.”

“Right now?”

“Maybe sooner.” It would be significant. I didn’t doubt that. Relway wouldn’t contact me unless it really did matter.

“You’re going to ditch your date?”

“What? Oh. Damn. No. I shouldn’t be gone long. And she isn’t a date, Tinnie.”

“Maybe not. But I see how she looks at you when you’re not paying attention. Like she wants to devour you.”

“Kind of like I look at you even when you are paying attention?”

The ghost of a smile twitched the corners of Tinnie’s mouth. “Right, Garrett. Try that line when I have time to notice. All right. I’ll tell her why you ran out.”

“Huh?” That didn’t sound promising.

“I know you. You’ll go out there and either get yourself knocked over the head and dragged off or you’ll get interested in something and forget everything else or there’ll be a pretty girl and your pig-dog nature will take over and —”

“You wound me, woman. Now that you acknowledge my existence again how can I possibly stay away more than minutes at a time?”

“I’m wearing new shoes, Garrett. Specially made. Don’t pile it up too deep.”

“And they’re the most amazing shade of green I’ve ever seen. They set off your eyes perfectly.” Maybe I didn’t need to find out what Relway wanted. Not tonight, anyway.

I looked into Tinnie’s eyes for a few long seconds. No. I definitely didn’t
want
to find out what Relway had.

Her devil smile wakened. “Go on. Take care of it. Then get your big goofy self back in here. We’ll see if maybe this threat to the Weiders doesn’t require you to stay all night so everybody is protected.”

Whoo-hoo! I moved out with a real bounce to my step.

“Mr. Garrett! Mr. Garrett!”

“Yes, Mr. Gresser?”

“Two more of my men have deserted. What am I supposed to do? How can I manage?”

Why me? Maybe Gilbey and Genord were fleeter of foot. “I’m here to handle gate-crashers and bad boys, Gresser, not to make sure Mr. Weider’s guests are well served. You’re the professional. Surely you know your business better than I. Why not grab a tray yourself?” I pushed past him.

I almost made it before Alyx caught up. She pushed up close, radiating availability. “Where’re you going, Garrett?” She looked so damned kissable I had to bite my tongue. Why is it always feast when I can’t do anything about it and famine when I can?

“I’ve had an emergency message, kid. I’ve got to go out for a few minutes. But I’ll be right back.” I glanced back to see if Tinnie was scowling. I didn’t see her.

I did see Kittyjo watching from a shadow thirty feet away. She didn’t look nostalgic for the good old days when we’d been very close friends till she changed her mind. She did look troubled. I winked at Alyx and headed for the door.

Maybe Kittyjo would warn her off me. That would be useful. I don’t deal well with temptation.

Morley has a personal rule he recommends often: Yield to temptation whenever you can because every opportunity might be your last. I don’t subscribe to that completely. Yielding could bring on the lastness. But I’m weak when blonds, brunettes, or redheads are part of the temptation.

On the other hand, a good rule of thumb would be: Never get involved with a woman crazier than you are. The trick there is to recognize the craziness before you get pulled in. Some hide it well. Kittyjo did.

As I departed a raw-throated Gerris Genord began to croak for attention. It was time Ty and Nicks made their announcement.

 

 

43

I stopped to see the security guys out front. They knew me. I told them I’d be right back. I stepped into the street, watching for the Goddamn Parrot as well as whoever wanted to see me. I didn’t expect Relway himself. Relway prefers to stay out of sight. But the little guy emerged from the darkness like a whispering ghost. I squeaked, “You startled me.”

“Sorry.” Like hell. He smirked. “Sorry about interrupting your evening, too. But you have to see this.”

“It’s big enough to bring you out personally?”

“I’m here because every player in the rights game is here. That’s significant. Something I have to look over with my very own eyes.”

I wondered if he had people inside. I wondered again, aloud, as we walked. I got only silence in response. Which was answer enough for me. It was likely that several of Gresser’s workers were secret police. Poor Mr. Gresser.

“It’s quiet tonight,” I observed. That wasn’t a good sign, really. Not in TunFaire, where, by day or by night, completely quiet streets generally mean big trouble.

“Very.”

The silence deepened as we walked.

The flicker of torchlight shone around a corner. We had walked only a few blocks, to the far side of the brewery. The torchlight had no noise attached. No excitement. We weren’t headed toward a street party or toward a riot.

We turned a corner.

There was my missing wagon. There was my venomous new equine acquaintance. Four men surrounded them. Three carried torches. The fourth held a short spear to the spine of a man lying facedown in the street. Two of the torchbearers wore Gresser’s corporate livery. How did they get away unnoticed?... Hell. They didn’t. Gresser did complain. But the guys covering the front hadn’t mentioned them.... Were they Relway’s people, too? Of course they were. Which meant they were everywhere. Too bad I couldn’t con them into doing my job for me.

The wagon was open on the side I’d been about to investigate when somebody decided to put me away for the night. Or a slab of sky had fallen on my noodle.

Relway told me, “These guys saw you get knocked down. They thought it might be interesting to trail the wagon and see what was going on.”

I forbore complaint. I now had a notion about one guard who might be in with Relway.

The fellow with the spear forced the captive to keep his head turned away. Relway didn’t want his face seen.

These four would be among his best and most trusted men, then. I tried to memorize their faces without being obvious.

“Shit!” I said softly when I looked inside the wagon. “This is what I was afraid of when —” Three corpses had been stuffed in there. Two were naked. Tom Weider still wore the dirty nightwear he’d had on when I was wrestling Carter and Trace. “Aw, shit,” I said again. I couldn’t express my despair any more articulately. This would crush the old man.

“You know them?”

“These two are Weider’s kids, Tom and Kittyjo. The other one worked on the brewery’s shipping dock. His name was Luke. He was helping tonight because he liked his boss. I don’t think he was getting paid. He had four kids. We got a major problem here, friend. An enigma compounded by a mystery, as they say.”

“Please be a little more specific.”

“I saw all of these people in obvious good health inside the Weider place after this wagon left. I saw Kittyjo as I was coming out the door to meet you.”

Relway grunted. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Listen. We had gate-crashers who kept disappearing into the crowd whenever you weren’t looking. But we never came up short on a head count.”

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