Gilded Latten Bones (10 page)

The hearse was not a tall wagon, though the seats were high. The driver, seated to my left, asked, “You heeled, Slick?”

“Lightly.” I showed him my head knocker. “The character with the ratty ginger hair put my heavy equipment in with the client.”

The man chuckled. He was an old, long drink of water who looked like this might be his true calling. “Client. I like that. Nice stick, too. Good enough for tonight. Won’t no resurrection men mess with this mob.”

Two mounted men led, followed by Belinda’s coach with thugs all over it. Then came another armed rider, the hearse with the mighty Garrett in the post and an armed thug on a running board to either side. One of those was my new pal, Joel. Behind the hearse were two more horsemen.

“What might resurrection men be?”

“Body snatchers. It’s a problem lately. Somebody is buying youngish corpses that’re in good shape. Where you been, Ace? Out of town?”

“So to speak. Stealing corpses, eh?” This was the first I’d heard about that. But there had been no reason for the subject to come up while I was babysitting. And less so before that. Nobody had a reason to keep me posted. My business was to protect Amalgamated from the larceny of its workers and the predations of intellectual pirates. Ditto for the Weider breweries.

The hearse jerked. I slammed against the back of my seat. The driver said, “You got to pay attention, Stretch. You’re supposed to be looking out for me and him inside. Him being dead and all, he probably won’t come back on you if you nod off and the boogie boys get him. But your old pal Cap’n Roger, here, he’s gonna come back hard. Especially if’n he gets kilt.”

“I have problems paying attention.” Problems I had not had in ante-Tinnie times. “You notice me getting glassy-eyed, give me an elbow in the ribs. I’m hell on wheels when I am paying attention.”

“I sincerely hope I don’t get to see you in action, Bud.”

I guessed Roger to be about sixty. That meant he had done a turn in the Cantard and had made it home. Which meant he remembered guys who couldn’t focus. All of us who made it back remember guys who couldn’t focus. Their bones decorate the desert down there.

The convoy headed south, swung onto Grand, then took that down to my home neighborhood. The streets weren’t busy. We didn’t attract an unusual amount of attention. I strove valiantly to stay alert, for the sake of my best pal and my new friend Cap’n Roger. It took about half an hour for Roger to decide I was ready for an elbow.

I could not turn off my mind. Calm just would not come.

Cap’n Roger’s elbow wakened me as the parade neared my place in Macunado Street. I settled into reality with the suspicion that I’d had an epiphany that I could not now recall because I was too dumb to pay attention at the moment of revelation.

Since I mostly worried about how Tinnie and I were getting along, I guessed that I must have lost a surefire means of dealing.

The hearse stopped even with the steps to my stoop. As I dismounted I noted the neighbors coming out. The door opened. Singe and Dean came outside. Then I felt the reassuring presence of the Dead Man, awake and deeply interested.

Thank you Singe, you wonder child.

In moments I felt more at home and more relaxed than I had for a long time.

26

I would like to say that the depth of Belinda Contague’s commitment to Morley was reflected in her willingness to walk into a place where her thoughts could not be kept secret, but...

Her willingness is tempered by a cautious application of technology.

“What?”

Once upon a time a band of junior sorcerers, amongst other sins, created a mesh able to keep me from seeing their thoughts.

I remembered. I considered Belinda more closely. “She isn’t wearing a wig.”

I was in the hallway, adding to the congestion. People were everywhere, getting in each other’s way. Morley was supposed to go into what had been my office, back in antiquity. Singe had cleared it out, then had installed a bed, chairs, and a few other bare-bones amenities. The guys with the litter couldn’t figure out how to make the turn through the doorway.

This room was smaller than the last but here I would not be confined to one space. I could roam from room to room and floor to floor, and even go down into the cellar. Wide open spaces, compared. And Singe would be more interesting company than the surly folk at Fire and Ice.

I backed into Singe’s office while the litter boys twisted and shoved and argued. Joel and Belinda barked advice that only added to the tumult. I wondered what the neighbors thought. You don’t often see the morticians make a delivery instead of a pickup.

The mesh is next to her scalp, embedded in her natural hair.

“That’s a lot of work gone to waste.” If any of these brunos knew something Belinda wanted kept secret.

Too much was happening at once. I couldn’t keep an eye on it all. The Dead Man had to make sure nobody collected souvenirs or hid in a closet.

It all worsened when Belinda went from the advisory to the imperial edict stage.

“Hey, woman! Yes. You. The pretty lady who forgets where she’s at. Calm down. And get those extra bodies out of here.” Her thugs had gotten Morley into his new quarters and established in his new bed. At which point I realized that we didn’t have Crush and DeeDee to feed and change him anymore.

Belinda gave me the hard-eye. Then she did remember where she was, what she was doing, and who was there behind her, out of sight but maybe not quite out of mind. “Yes. All right. Joel, get the hat and coat from Mr. Garrett. The rest of you, go to Durelea Hall. Wait there. Joel, pay Roger and thank him for the use of the hearse. Worden, tell my coachman to wait at Durelea Hall, too.”

I said, “I hate to give up the coat. I like the look.” But I handed it over.

Joel said, “See Cap’n Roger. There’s always openings in the mortician trade.”

“I left some tools in the hearse. I’ll need them. Would you be so generous as to run them up to the door?”

Belinda inclined her head slightly. Joel took that as an order. Off he went. The Dead Man touched me lightly, confirming my suspicions. I asked Belinda, “You spend much time around Joel?”

“Not really. Why?”

“He’s got the bug bad. And he smells like the kind of guy who could get weird.”

Belinda stared like I was a raving lunatic. Like I had accosted her on the street, insisting that she hear my theory about the royal conspiracy to conceal the truth about the mole people who lived in caverns deep under the earth. “You saw something that I missed?”

“I could be wrong. But the way the man watches you, when you don’t know he’s watching... I’d say it’s close to obsession.”

“Good to know. I think.”

Truly a human shark.

“You can still get a solid read?”

Not if you ruin it by talking about it.

Always a problem, me verbalizing my half of our conversations. “I’m out of practice.”

An understatement.

After his appearance out front Dean had fled to the kitchen. He remained in hiding whilst the old homestead swarmed with villains, not out of timidity but to avoid being trampled. He emerged now. “Is the rush over?”

His great dread had been being told to feed the horde. He was irked enough because Belinda and I were still on scene and special needs Morley was lurking in my old office. “I’ll need to do some serious shopping if there are going to be extra mouths to feed.”

Singe told him, “Make a list. I’ll have John Stretch deal with it. None of us should go out. It might not be safe.”

Dean shrugged. He did not ask my opinion. He was used to Singe taking charge.

I caught on. Danger wasn’t relevant. Singe was giving an old man an excuse to let someone else do his running.

Dean’s years were catching up.

I said, “We need to decide how to handle Morley. Belinda, you’ll be busy back in the world. Singe and I can, maybe, muddle through an occasional feeding, sponge bath, or linen change, but we aren’t qualified to do it regular. We’ll need somebody trustworthy.” Because he or she would not be live-in. There was nowhere to put anybody.

Singe said, “Taken care of, Garrett. Some of John Stretch’s women will handle it.”

Singe had everything covered already. There was no need to fuss.

Belinda said, “I’m not needed here anymore.”

“Don’t go,” I said. “We haven’t talked about what you found out the last few days.”

“Nothing, basically.”

I waited for an opinion from the Dead Man. None came. “Nothing at all? That’s hard to believe.”

“What you believe is up to you. I’m going, now. I’ll check in occasionally. If the lazy dick does wake up, send a message.” She headed for the door, striding manfully.

The Dead Man touched me lightly — just a gentle suggestion that I keep my mouth shut till she was out of the house.

27

I shut the door, did a quick mental catalog of the faces I had seen watching. There were dozens, still, even with the hearse and coach gone. Some were Belinda’s bodyguards. None of the others tripped an alarm. None made the Dead Man wonder, either.

Mr. Dotes’ presence will not remain secret. A clever questioner could pluck a detail from this dim witness and that and assemble an approximation of our situation.

“And? So what?”

That was me being too sure that I was untouchable inside my own house. My watchful partner brought my overconfidence to my attention.

I am ever most effective when my presence and abilities are unknown. One would think that you had worked that out for yourself by now.

I was about to spin a big argument. He cut me off.
How would you deal with me, given the knowledge you have?

A couple notions popped into mind immediately. And I limit my options by failing to be as ruthless as some.

You see. It is all in knowing what you are up against. Which is why my people never reveal all there is to know about us, to friend, foe, or sibling.

Wisdom with which it was hard to argue. At the moment I was thinking the best way to get him and Morley at the same time would be a swarming attack with firebombs. Light the place up and burn everybody inside.

There are people out there able to do that and sleep like a baby afterward. People who would do it for the price of a quality high.

Director Relway doesn’t always seem like a bad idea.

You begin to see. We are most vulnerable to those who know who and what we are.

No doubt he meant that on multiple levels.

“I see. In fact, I see so clearly that I’m sure Belinda made a mistake by moving us here.”

Let me suggest some possibilities. Perhaps she does not plan to leave Mr. Dotes here long. This may last only until it lures someone into range.

“We’re bait?”

Possibly. She might, in addition, be pleased if I could excise a clue or two from Mr. Dotes.

“About?”

All of the great questions. Who? Where? What? Why? When? How? And who to? Or anything else that might lead to the cutting of selected throats. I am inclined to agree with Miss Contague about the potential value of the dig. Which will be difficult work. Exploring an unconscious mind, counterintuitively, is much more difficult than rummaging through a mind that is awake, aware, and trying to hide.

“I’ll take your word for it. You being the self-declared expert.”

Indeed. At this point you should find someone else to pester. I need all my minds to winkle out those things that Mr. Dotes does not know he knows.

28

One custom had not changed since my move to Factory Slide. Singe had kept up the payments on the cold well in the kitchen. Currently, that contained a keg of Weider Pale Ale, a Pular Singe favorite. My taste runs to something slightly heavier but the pale ale was plenty good after several days dry.

Singe and I both drew big mugs and backup pitchers before we headed for her office, leaving Dean preparing a meal obviously meant for more people than me, Singe, and Morley. We settled into the wonderful new furniture and began to scheme out how this thing would go.

I said, “First thing, I want to catch up on what you did last week, up on the north side.” I took a sip of the pale. Tasty! “I saw you. They probably didn’t tell you what was going on.”

“Not a lot, no. I took the job because you asked me to in your note.”

“And?”

“And what? You need to use small words and be very clear with us Other Races.”

Was she serious? Or just messing with me? Most of my friends did. Singe had been an exception. “The tracking job. Where did that take you? What did you find? That might give me some clue about what I need to do to help Morley. I know you found something because you’re you, Pular Singe, the best there is and maybe ever was.”

“Wow! Doesn’t that make me feel special?”

“Singe! Please.”

“I keep forgetting that you’re a gelding now. All right. Miss Contague asked me to backtrack a team of goats. I did, into Elf Town, to a small warehouse, where we found some totally ridiculous stuff.”

“Meaning?”

“I can’t think of a way to say it better.”

“So just tell me.”

“All right. The warehouse was maybe forty by sixty feet, two stories tall, all open inside. The goat cart left the warehouse through a pair of doors, each three feet wide and of normal height. They were barred from inside when we got there. Miss Contague’s men broke in while Director Relway’s Specials looked the other way.”

Pardon me, children. I can make this easier for you both. It is a significant event that Garrett has no knowledge of beyond the fact that Miss Contague wanted that cart backtracked.

Singe said, “She knew goats are more pungent and persistent than people. Tracing them would be the easiest way to get a handle on our villain. May I get on with my report?”

No. Too much will be lost if you do it verbally.

Vaguely, I heard Singe use language unladylike even for a ratgirl, then found myself living a memory, riding behind her eyes from the moment she started the trace. Initially, there were flashes, excised moments, as the Dead Man skipped me along like a flat stone across a pond. The stills came closer and closer together. Then I was outside the aforementioned double doors. They had been painted recently, a repugnant flat olive with a repulsive odor.