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Authors: Glen Cook

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BOOK: Gilded Latten Bones
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“You lost me.”

“Will you...?” He glared in exasperation.

“Ever since we met you’ve accused me of stonewalling or deliberately holding things up. You were right. When it was in the interest of my client. Maybe one time in ten. I knew why you were barking, then. This time I don’t. All I’m doing is protecting a friend who came within a frog’s feather of getting himself stabbed to death. In case somebody tries to finish the job. I’ve been told by half the people here and some who aren’t that this is all I’m allowed to do. It’s all I intend to do. And at least one woman doesn’t want me doing that much.”

“Touchy.”

“Damned straight.”

“Why do you have all these people here, then?”

“I don’t. I didn’t invite them. Did you get an invitation from me?”

“No. But this is your house.”

“It’s a place where I’m staying because I thought Morley would be safer here than anywhere else.”

He gave me a dubious look.

“The first I knew about this was just a while ago when Singe woke me up from a perfectly beautiful nap and told me to come help.”

“You always blow a creditable cloud of smoke.”

“Again, what do you want?”

“We’ve been warned off this case.”

“You’re going to let it slide? You lost people.”

“Garrett, can the shit. For the rest of us this isn’t about Morley Dotes. About him and his problems I don’t much care.”

“Tell him that.”

“Gladly. Is he up for an interview?”

“He’s in a coma.”

“Too bad. But his testimony isn’t critical. What is critical would be our incorruptibility. When we started out Deal and I were promised that no one would be above the law. Not even the Royal Family. Prince Rupert stood behind us when we stepped on sensitive toes. But this time he’s telling us to back off. We have to let it go. The same word has gone out to the Syndicate.”

“Who has the drag to bully the Crown Prince?”

“Exactly. We mean to find out.”

“You’re not going to back off?”

“We’re going to be less obviously vigorous. Unobtrusive. But the more pressure we get the more we’ll dig. Same pertains for the Syndicate, I suspect. You push the Contagues, they push back.”

“You think dread of an explosion in production of dead bodies might be why the Prince wants to stand down?”

“No. I think somebody on the Hill, somebody who can make even Rupert shit his knickers, wants the thing left alone. I’ll even go so far as to guess that the Hill as a whole wants it left alone.”

“Because the villains might be some of them?”

“In part. But more because if we poke our noses in very far we’re likely to turn up all sorts of things they don’t want the public to know.”

I poured myself some tea. Dean was outside the kitchen door telling me to hurry up. He had to get back to work.

I raised a questioning eyebrow.

Block said, “I’ll stipulate that most Hill folk are as distressed by the warehouse as the rest of us. But they want to handle it themselves.”

“So let them.”

“And next time somebody wants to shut the Guard out? Next time somebody wants to handle justice privately?”

Block had a fierce case of the same disease that ruled Relway. Most of the time it did more good than bad.

“All I can do is wish you luck. I’ll be right here babysitting.”

He didn’t believe a word.

Sometimes there’s no point trying to communicate with some people. They live everything inside their heads. Outside things that don’t fit get ignored.

Westman Block was a good man. I liked him. But he could frustrate me like almost no one else but Tinnie.

“Come on in, Dean.”

Dean burst in and got cracking. He was determined to render me destitute before the sun went down.

 

 

37

Belinda isolated me, in with Morley, amongst the deaf ratmen. “They insist that we back off. That we have to let this alone.”

“They? We?”

“Don’t play word games.”

“I’m not. You know what I mean. Nobody has told
me
not to do anything. And the only
we
I’m part of is me and Morley.”

“Then I’d have to ask why most everyone you know by name is here. I even saw that poisoner, Kolda, a minute ago.”

“He’s not a poisoner.” Distracted. “I don’t know why you’re all here. I had nothing to do with that. Like I told the General.”

She didn’t believe me either. Someday I’ll make a huge score because nobody will take me at face value. I could loot the Royal Mint, then run around yelling about how it was me that done it.

I did know what was going on. Singe and the Dead Man had cooked a plan to investigate out of my house. They would use people we had worked with in the past. I found it disconcerting that they weren’t troubled by a Hill interest potent enough to make Prince Rupert back off. Old Bones must have seen a way to get away with defying that which must not be defied.

This was shaping up to be what I’d had in mind when I’d visited with the Windwalker. Who was not around today.

I asked, “Is that healer ever going to come?”

“Are you kidding? After what I paid him before?”

“And he isn’t worried about my friend in the other room?”

“He doesn’t know. I told him you spilled the medicine. That we’ll want more. But first he has to take another look at Morley. I’m pretty sure there’s something more wrong than what he thought before.”

“And if he’s a villain?”

“We’ll know that straight off, won’t we?”

We contemplated our mutual friend. Morley looked as peaceful as a man in a coffin.

I kept wondering why it was taking the healer so long to show.

He is out there. All the traffic makes him nervous. He does not like that but cannot shake his greed. He will come into the trap eventually.

My impatience faded. I just worried about Morley. Till my mind wandered off to Factory Slide.

An unexpected voice asked, “Garrett, are you all right?”

I looked up. “Gilbey?” Manville Gilbey and his recently acquired wife, Heather, were framed in the doorway. Gilbey was the number-two man in the Weider brewing empire. He seemed concerned. “I’m all right.”

“We haven’t seen you at the brewery lately. When I heard about your open house I thought we’d stop by and see what your situation is.”

“It’s marginal despair.” I glanced at Morley. “What do you need to know?”

“Nothing, now. We’ve been circulating long enough to get a flavor. Max will stand behind you.”

Of course, because Max Weider didn’t like folks involved in illegal experimental sorcery. Several of his family were murdered by shape-shifting things created in abandoned beer vats. Max wouldn’t mind exterminating the whole tribe of sorcerers.

Heather Gilbey was usually more forthcoming and social, naturally, than Manville, but today she just smiled and kept her mouth shut.

Gilbey told me, “Take care doing what you need to do, Garrett. We value you.” He eyed Morley, then the ratmen with illegal weaponry. He knew Morley. Morley’s restaurant was across from Max Weider’s World Theater, where Heather was manager.

Heather gave me a slight smile before she stepped out of sight. I liked her fine but she was high on Tinnie’s list. Tinnie had acted in several Jon Salvation plays. She had gotten a big head. A huge head. Heather wasted no time letting her know that her talents might be better appreciated elsewhere, a fierce stroke since the World is the only theater where female actresses are not expected to have other commerce with audience members.

Tinnie is not accustomed to failure and has almost no capacity for accepting criticism.

 

 

38

I had some quiet time with my friend, then, sharing the space with John Stretch’s goons. I stared hard, willing Morley to come back.

Belinda stepped in. “No change?”

“None. There’s definitely something not right.”

“We should learn a lot from the healer.”

“You sure he doesn’t know about Old Bones?”

“Believe it or not, Garrett, almost nobody outside your acquaintance does. Particularly since you’ve been inactive for so long.”

Things do get forgotten quickly in TunFaire. Maybe that’s an urban survival skill.

“The Dead Man is barely a spook story. He’s something kids scare each other with. Nobody really believes that he exists.”

“Interesting.”

“I have to go soon. But not right away. I want to be here for the healer.”

“If he ever gets here.”

“He’ll show up. He might not come inside if he doesn’t see me.”

He would — unless he could shake off Loghyr mind control.

The healer is close now but is very uncomfortable. He is not a people person.

Belinda did not react. He had not included her. I told her, “His Nibs thinks the healer is finally here.” Old Bones would avoid direct contact till it was too late for the man to get away. And, maybe, Belinda would go on believing her own thoughts were inviolate.

I felt a tickle of Loghyr amusement.

I told Belinda, “Your man is really nervous. Get him before he spooks.” And, “Let’s don’t jump him before we lock the door behind him.”

I got a hint of something like the old saw about teaching grandma to suck eggs. At the same time Old Bones used a gentle influence to move our guests into his room or Singe’s office.

Moments later I said, “Doctor. There you are. I’m getting really worried about my friend.”

The healer gripped his bag in front of his chest. He stared at the three ratmen. He looked like he had just been sentenced to hang.

“Are you all right?”

His mouth open and closed. Nothing came out. Belinda filled the doorway behind him. She did not keep her expression benign.

I said, “Don’t mind these guys. They’re here to protect Morley.”

Almost inaudibly, the healer asked, “You spilled the medicine I gave you before?”

“Yep. Fumbled it when I was opening it. It hit the floor and rolled under the bed. It was empty before I could fish it out.” He relaxed slightly. I grinned. “No, not really. That was a lie. We thought having you think that would help us get you here, you villain.”

His eyes got big. He managed to turn even paler.

His attempt to flee failed totally. Belinda didn’t move.

Oh, yes. He is guilty. The medication he provided was designed to keep Mr. Dotes unconscious. Our villain is greedy but he is not a murderer.

I told the little man in black, “Friend, you have reached a crossroads. This is the pivotal moment of your life. And it could be fatal.”

Take care. He believes he still has options.

“The lady behind you isn’t happy with you. She paid you to heal this man. You poisoned him instead. The gentleman behind her is General Block of the Civil Guard. He wants to ask you some questions, too.”

Easy,
Old Bones sent.
Stop pressing. I have to get control of his body functions, especially his heartbeat. He could die if I do not.

I started to ask a question.

Silence! His heart is about to burst.

I’d heard of that in mice and horses but never a human being.

I raised a hand to Block and Belinda. We had to let the Dead Man work his magic.

Old Bones stilled, calmed, and reported,
He was prepared for entrapment by a master hypnotist who was unaware that he might encounter someone like me. I have undone the commands driving him toward heart failure but I have failed to discover who placed those commands.

Inspiration. “Belinda, why did you choose this particular healer?”

“I went to the Children of the Light. I asked for someone. Then I proved that I could afford them.”

Maybe that inspiration was halfway a dud. “How long did it take them to decide to help you?”

“Oh. Several days. More than three.”

“You went to them before you came to me.” Which didn’t hurt my feelings. My skills as a healer are slightly inferior.

Old Bones sent,
This one was given the assignment by lot. He was suborned between his first and second visits to Mr. Dotes. A great deal of money was involved. He has done wicked things before. This is the first time his perfidy has been detected.

The old devil was gleeful.

Belinda said, “You have a lifesaving opportunity, healer. That life being your own.”

The Dead Man stabilized the healer’s vitals, denying him the escape of death. I’m sure he plundered the man’s memories at the same time.

I said, “I’m feeling generous. I’m going to offer you a chance to save
two
lives.” Playmate was asleep in a chair in the Dead Man’s room. I would make this greedy idiot heal him after he turned Morley around.

This is remarkably difficult,
the Dead Man sent.
I cannot negate the full regime of posthypnotic commands. What we want we will have to get quickly. The self-destruct sequence has only been stalled. I may not be able to hold it off indefinitely.

I looked at Morley, at the healer, at Morley again, and could not find in myself any sympathy for the healer.

 

 

39

I called General Block back. He had drifted away, seduced by the siren of free food and beer. Plus, for the moment, he was a celebrity. Even he craves admiration.

“See if Kolda is still here.”

“The poisoner?”

“He’s a chemist. An apothecary. A natural extracts guy.” Why was I making excuses for Kolda? Because I kind of liked him? He did try to poison me, once upon a time.

“Whatever.”

“Never mind. Skipper, find Singe. Tell her I need Kolda.”

One of the ratmen left. While I waited I filled Block in on what we had dredged out of the healer while he was away enjoying his back-patting. He was aghast. “And now he’s doing his damned best to die before we can get anything else. While he’s practically begging Old Bones to save his ass.”

Block lost color. He swallowed a few times. That one of the Children of the Light could be so twisted was a shocker, apparently.

In this mean city we should find nothing darkly amazing. Even in the age of police protection.

Block gurgled, “He’s awake. I thought he was asleep. I was promised that he was in a full, deep sleep.”

BOOK: Gilded Latten Bones
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