Gilded Latten Bones (34 page)

So the notes made the rounds. And Block grumbled, “You
were
holding out. This tracking the costumes...”

Singe said, “You were informed, General. Your ability to comprehend what you were hearing may have been compromised by your determination to lay waste to our reserve of ardent spirits.”

She made me chuckle. And it might even have been true.

I couldn’t remember.

Block grumbled, “So I’m a little behind.” He got up, did some mild twists to loosen up. “I’ll catch up.”

Singe gestured. I led the General to the door, asking, “How come you’re always out by yourself? You ought to be tripping over escorts.”

“When I go out alone I go where I want and see what I want.”

“Damn. I didn’t think of it that way. Well, go spank some bad guys.”

I shut the door and scooted back to Singe’s office. “Morley. Did you get a chance...? No wonder he hasn’t said anything for a while.”

He was sound asleep.

“All right, Singe. Let’s do it. Strafa, we held back a couple of things. I wanted you to see them first.”

The notes Block had not seen named people who had ordered stuff that may have become part of the midnight road show.

A woman calling herself Constance Algarda had taken delivery of seven hundred yards of coarse gray wool fabric and a score of well-seasoned bracer logs twelve feet long. Bracer is a lightweight tropical wood prized for its workability. A younger woman calling herself Kevans Algarda had ordered two pairs of high-top black-leather fuck-me boots from a cobbler associated with the tailor who specialized in fetish wear. Said cobbler believed the same woman patronized a nearby wigmaker. The cobbler had waxed poetic about the Algarda woman’s structure.

A man who claimed to be Barate Algarda paid for the goods in each case. In neither case had a delivery been made. These people transported their own goods.

Jon Salvation had worked wonders just by being Jon Salvation.

Strafa said, “This is impossible.”

“I agree.”

“As do I,” Singe said. “That is why I hid the notes. As Garrett requested.”

I told Strafa, “This part has to be on you. And you need to move fast. Block and Relway will be all over this. It puts them ahead of the busybodies from the Palace and the Hill.” Only Saucerhead had gone round the theater support shops before Salvation.

“I’ll start with Barate. I don’t know where he’d get the money, but if he
is
the one...” She whisked out, turned left toward the kitchen and stair instead of toward the front door.

I looked at Singe. She said, “I don’t believe it is those three. Well, maybe the old woman... We need to be careful.”

“You think Shadowslinger would frame her own flesh and blood?”

“Most of those Hill monsters would. My concern is us getting tangled up in guilt by association.”

“Oh.” Maybe I picked the exact wrong time to get involved with a Windwalker.

Singe said, “It’s too bad she is the only one who can go out. Someone ought to take the artwork to show the cobbler, wigmaker, and fetish tailor.”

Scarier and scarier. “You should have thought of that before she left.”

“I will talk to her when she gets back.”

87

Playmate leaned in the doorway. “Dean says come and get it. You lot first.”

Singe and I were up and going immediately. She said, “You’ll have to wake him up.”

Morley had not responded to the mention of food, though he had been making up for lost time lately.

“I’ll do it when we get back.”

We left Playmate setting up folding tables.

Dean had reorganized. The kitchen table was set up so customers could come in, grab a plate and tools, circle the table taking food from platters and bowls, then snag a ready-filled mug of beer or tea and be gone. Playmate held the door due to our lack of extra hands.

Singe again suggested that I waken Morley. “We should start getting him onto a normal schedule.”

I set my mountain of fried chicken down to cool. I went after my best pal.

“Don’t make a passion play out of it, Garrett. You can see he isn’t going to wake up. Go ahead and eat.”

Playmate arrived with a pitcher as I chomped on my first drumstick. Then he crossed the hall to collect the crowd over there. Dollar Dan, licking grease off his whiskers, passed the doorway, headed up front.

Penny and the Bird sounded excited about supper. I expected that Bird didn’t eat well normally.

Dollar Dan reappeared with John Stretch. “Just in time for supper,” Singe said, her tone critical.

“Not this time, sister. I had a nice cheese pie before I came over. I can afford to feed myself, you know.”

Singe had taken mostly vegetables. She attacked a baked yam, no apology to her brother or the yam.

“Got news?” I asked with my mouth full.

“Bad news that is good. We have located three places that smell of death and chemicals. Two are much like the warehouse in Elf Town, particularly in the way they fit into their locales.” He gave rough addresses.

I said, “Neither one is in a human neighborhood.”

“Exactly. Though with so many dwarves gone back to the mountains their neighborhood is mostly human now. But all foreigners who don’t speak a word of Karentine.”

“Wonderful. Wonderful. What about the third place?”

“That one is different. Death and chemicals smells are there, too, but not as strong. The stench of human madness and terror overrides all that.”

“Where is that one?”

“In the Landing. Another abandoned warehouse. My people could not get close. There were guards out.”

I said, “We’re getting somewhere, Singe!”

Playmate showed up with another pitcher and a mug for John Stretch. He left again but was gone for less than a minute. He brought his own supper in and joined us.

“Too busy in the kitchen. I’m not barging in on secret stuff, am I?”

“Not hardly. You’re part of the game. How are you feeling?”

“Better than I have in years. That Kolda is high up on my good guys list.”

“Let him know when you see him. He doesn’t get many strokes.”

Singe and John Stretch kept quiet. They were among the folks who had reservations about Kolda.

John Stretch asked, “What should we do with this information?”

Considering the constraints on me, and Morley’s condition, the logical course was to pass it onto the Civil Guard. But they were operating under restraints of their own and might get warned off before they could do any good.

“Did your people notice anyone else poking around?”

“No. Why?”

“I have trouble believing that we can find out stuff before the people who are supposed to be doing the digging.”

Singe, thumbing through papers in search of something, said, “Do not overlook the fact that we have not been trying to make something go away by sweeping it under the rug.”

“They are not looking very hard,” John Stretch opined.

Morley made a noise like he was choking on phlegm. He got over it before Playmate reached him. He opened his eyes for a moment but was not awake or seeing.

“Here it is,” Singe said.

“What’s that?”

“The list of properties registered to Constance Algarda. There are no matches with the properties Humility has located.”

“Be interesting to find out who does own them.”

“We have no one we can send to find out.”

“I could go. Dollar Dan and his crew can manage here.”

Singe reflected. “You may be past caring but... how would that play with Tinnie? You leaving the house for a title search but not for her?”

“I’ll do what I always do. Apologize later.”

“It’s too late to do it today. I’ll put it on the list.”

Now I had a young-adult ratgirl telling me what to do.

When God scribbled my fate on my forehead, He included a glyph saying I had to be a toy of the yin half of the universe.

Morley mumbled something.

Playmate popped up. “I’ll get him some dinner.”

I went over, lifted Morley’s chin.

“I’m fine, Garrett. I was just asleep. Now I’m awake.”

“And cranky.”

“And eager to break some bones. I had a dream.”

I held back on the wisecrack. This might be important.

“It’s trying to get away, now. But the guy in the picture the nut job painted. He was in it. He had me chained up in a bad place. Hypnotizing me. I wasn’t the only one there. There were lots of others. But their situation was different.” He raised a hand because he saw me getting ready to ask questions. “That’s all I have.”

“It might be from when you were a prisoner.”

“I must have escaped. Maybe I got stabbed when they caught me.”

“That makes sense.” I recalled that Belinda still hadn’t found that witness again. “Hey, Belinda has one of those wooden masks and some scraps of gray cloth she found where she thinks you were attacked.”

Morley and Singe both said, “What?”

“When we talked about what happened to you, first or second time, she told me she visited the place where you were attacked. A witness took her. She found the mask when she was looking around.”

“So?” Singe asked.

“So we have some evidence that nobody knows about. The other stuff got confiscated.”

Morley said, “That’s interesting, but does it matter? With what John Stretch found, this shouldn’t go on much longer.”

Good point. Maybe I just wanted to feel clever. Maybe I just felt a need to do something.

Were
we getting close?

We didn’t know who the real villains were. We didn’t know what they were up to. The Director’s theoretical conspiracy to overthrow the monarchy seemed weak. A lot of people thought it was political, though. Maybe because politicians thought everything was.

We didn’t know why Morley was full of holes but I thought I could guess.

He had seen something he shouldn’t have. For that he had been snatched and locked up, probably with other prisoners. Somebody had tried to hypnotize him. Being Morley, he had found a way to escape. His captors had resented that. They had chased him. He had headed for Elf Town thinking he could shed them there. Outsiders threatening someone with elf blood wouldn’t last long in that quarter.

He had never gotten there. Maybe forewarned folks from that ugly warehouse had intercepted him.

Those people and the gray things had left him for dead. His body had no value because it wasn’t human. Later, they had heard that he had survived. Belinda and I had led them to Fire and Ice. They had tried to get him there. Failing that, they had bribed Brother Hoto. Hoto would have brought out the news that Morley hadn’t yet said anything.

Eventually they undertook the raid on my place. That did not go well.

Now they were hunkered down. False trails had been laid and red herrings dragged.

The more I reflected the less likely it seemed that the mess was political.

What else it could be I had no idea.

“Garrett? Are you still with us?” Morley demanded.

“I know you aren’t used to witnessing it, but I was thinking. Somewhere inside your noggin, though you don’t know what yet, is a nugget of info that can ruin the lives of the folks involved in the resurrection scheme.”

“They think so. But what? I still have only a general impression of the place where they penned me up.”

Singe pounced. “Penned?”

“That’s probably not exact. It was more like a filthy cellar. It stank because it was so crowded...”

“You weren’t alone.”

“I told you that.”

“Did anyone else escape when you did?”

“I don’t know.”

Singe said, “If they did and talked, word would have gotten around.”

I said, “How about this? Maybe our villains aren’t waiting for people to die to use them.”

Morley reminded me, “That many people disappearing would cause a big uproar.”

“No. We figured that out. Block was going to look into it.”

“The operation in Little Dismal Swamp,” Singe said. “The convicts. As good as dead when they’re sentenced. Nobody expects them to survive. If you were in charge you could sell them and put them on the books as having died in the swamp.”

I said, “They don’t have to produce the bodies.” Then, “Some whats and hows might be falling into place. It would be nice to stumble over an occasional why.”

Singe said, “Just be patient. It will all bubble to the surface — unless the cover-up crowd shoves Block and Relway into their own cells.”

Morley growled. He thought he was more ready than he was. Now was when he would be most dangerous to himself.

Singe said, “Think before you do anything, boys.” She pushed her chair back, rose, left the room.

88

Singe called, “Garrett, you better come see this.”

I went. She was at the peephole, looking out.

I took her place.

The view wasn’t great but it was broad enough to be disturbing. “Let’s go upstairs and get a better look.”

I was huffing and puffing by the time I reached the window that was Strafa’s preferred entrance. Singe leaned past to look out. “Your loose lips did it this time.”

A big coach and a covered wagon had parked across the street. Teamsters were unhitching the horses. Men in strange uniforms meant to stick around for a while.

There were twelve of those.

Another big wagon and a more modest coach arrived with another dozen men. Teamsters got the team for the wagon out of harness.

An officer stepped down from the smaller coach. He surveyed the street, then my place, nodded, unfolded and consulted a large sheet of paper. He barked. A guy who looked like a career sergeant major joined him after bellowing at four men putting up an awning beside the big coach. That had a chimney. Smoke began to drift out.

The sergeant major stood beside the officer. He poked the map with a beefy forefinger. The officer nodded. Moments later ten armed men had been distributed around my house. The rest went on making the big coach and two wagons into a home away from home.

“What the hell are they up to?” I muttered.

“They want to isolate us.”

“But those are Palace Guards. Probably most of them. Why are they here?”