Red Iron Nights (25 page)

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Authors: Glen Cook

BOOK: Red Iron Nights
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The irregular Watchmen appeared sooner than Block expected, and way too soon for me where peace of mind was concerned. Neither was human. Relway was some unlikely breed that was half dwarf and fractions of several other things. He was
ugly.
Also, to my surprise, he seemed to be decent and pleasant, less scarred by his ancestry and appearance than I’d have guessed. He was committed to the mission of the new Watch, an apparent fanatic.

Likewise Spike, who was a ratman. I don’t like ratmen. My dislike verges on being a prejudice. I couldn’t believe this ratman was for real. An honest ratman is a contradiction in terms, an oxymoron.

Block told me, “Relway and Spike are volunteer auxiliaries till I get my budget approved. I already have a verbal commitment for funds sufficient to add four hundred undercover operatives. These two will direct one of the companies, down where they’ll be taking you.”

Scary stuff, secret police. Great crimestoppers to begin, maybe, but how long before Block’s ambitious Prince discovered that they could be employed to root out persons of doubtful political rectitude?

Sufficient unto the day . . . “So let’s find out about our boys.”

Block questioned Relway and Spike. They did know of a place where Winchell and Ripley might be hidden. It was a hole they’d scouted while scoping out their operation. They hadn’t used it, but that wouldn’t keep Winchell away now.

Block snapped, “Garrett, you go with these two. Cover the place. Scout it out. I’ll be right behind you with reinforcements.” Away he flew.

Relway and Spike eyed me expectantly, probably figuring me for a Watch officer. They were excited. They were going to be part of something big and real before they were even officially policemen.

I jerked my head toward the door. “Let’s do it!”

 

 

47

 

Elvis Winchell and his sidekick had guts. Relway and Spike told me about the scam they’d started before chance brought the corporal and Price Ripley up against something too big to handle.

Their target area was the waterfront around Ogre Town. Real badlands. Winchell would wander the worst parts pretending to be drunk. Ripley, Relway, and the ratman would blend into the derelict scenery, then would jump whoever jumped Winchell.

I admired Winchell’s balls but had reservations about his methods. He’d made only two actual arrests, of two fairly inoffensive young muggers. But he’d sent a bunch of thugs home kneecapped, set to spend the rest of their lives on the victim side of the line. He felt that word would spread and the bad boys would take their business elsewhere.

“Maybe,” I said. “But I think they’d have just killed you.”

“Four of us?” Spike demanded. I was startled, not at all used to being addressed as an equal by a ratman. A second later I was amused by this discovery of my own flaw. Spike continued, “Muggers don’t have a guild and they don’t work in crowds. I lived in this area for years. The muggers never work in groups of more than four. Two is most common. We handled foursomes easily. Captain Block gave us the tools.”

“Maybe I’d better not pursue this. I don’t think I want to know.”

“There’s a New Order coming, Garrett,” Relway said. “Lot of people have had all they can take. The pendulum is swinging. You’re going to find people saying that if the Crown won’t solve social problems, they’ll take care of them themselves.” The man went on, at great length, till I was ready to send him off to debate those women I’d sicced on the Dead Man that time. Relway, though he had no human blood, was determined to be a factor in TunFaire society.

I suggested, “Maybe you’re overstepping, friend. Non-humans are here only by treaty. They don’t want to be subject to Karentine law, they better not claim its protection either.”

“I hear you, Garrett. And you’re right. There should be one law for everyone. You’re born in this city and live in this city, you should help make this city a decent place to live. I done my part. I did my five in the Cantard and took my Karentine citizenship.”

I got the message. Don’t look down because he was a breed. He’d paid his dues same as me.

I edged away from Relway. He was a committed activist. Every third sentence included “the New Order,” clearly capitalized.

Politicals make me nervous.

Translation: they scare the shit out of me. They’re weird and they believe the weird shit they say without looking at the implications of their becoming successful. Luckily, politicals are few in TunFaire, and those few are despised, outcasts.

They ought to learn to be less threatening, like Barking Dog Amato.

Now I saw how Relway had sublimated the anger and hatred that should result from being an unusual breed and notably ugly besides. He would keep on smiling but would restructure the world so he’d become one of its shining lights.

Fine. Go for it, buddy. Just include me out of the revolution and its aftermath. I’m happy with my life the way it is.

Relway and Spike led me to a tenement that had burned recently but incompletely. Though abandoned, its cellars remained habitable—defining habitable by liberal standards.

I asked, “How do we find out if anybody’s in there?”

It was broad daylight. I was strutting around with two guys Winchell knew, two guys with no ability to cut any slack. They had black-and-white minds. An hour earlier Winchell and Ripley were their best buddies. Now those two were just names on the sleazeball list, scum in need of expungement.

Relway gave the ruins the fish-eye. “Spike, you’re better at getting around quietly. Check it out.”

Ratmen are sneaky bastards. Spike went off like a ghost, not toward the place that interested us. Relway and I made ourselves invisible while we waited. Relway was a chatterbox with a nose a foot long. He wanted to know all about who I was and why I was interested in the case.

“None of your business,” I told him.

In a huff, Relway said, “You could at least show some manners. You could be polite. I’ll be important in the New Order.”

“I’m not polite to Block. I wouldn’t be polite to his boss. I’m not going to waste polite on you and the rat. I didn’t particularly want to be here. Fate keeps messing me around.”

“I hear what you’re saying. Same shit happens to me. Maybe more, looking the way I do.”

“Nothing wrong with the way you look,” I lied. “There’s the rat. What’s he signaling?”

“I think he means they’re in there. He wants to know what we do now.”

“What we do now is wait for Block. I got a feeling this Winchell is nasty. I’d just hate it if he got away over my dead body.”

“I know where you’re coming from, Garrett.” Relway waved and poked the air. So did Spike. “I’m not big on becoming a dead hero myself. I do want to see the New Order arrive. You wouldn’t be the Garrett that’s the investigator, would you?”

“Probably. Why? I didn’t mess up any of your family or pals, did I?”

“No. Nope. What you’re looking at is something you ain’t going to believe exists. A real one in a trillion. A pervert. An honest breed who comes from a family that’s never had even one member taken in for questioning.” His tone was challenging, and deservedly so, because my attitude reflected the general prejudice. What was embarrassing was that it wasn’t a prejudice I really felt.

“We’re off on the wrong foot here and it’s mostly my fault, Relway. It isn’t personal. I’ve been in a foul mood since I got up. I usually save my venom for the ratmen.”

“You’re weird, Garrett. Here comes the man.” He meant Block. Evidently Block was held in high esteem in some quarters.

 

 

48

 

Block still held me in high enough esteem that he sought approval before he moved. “The place is surrounded. Gonna take some doing for anybody to get out.”

“Dead Man says take them alive if you can. The curse probably can’t transfer while they’re still alive.”

“They?”

“Part must be touching Ripley somehow. Or Winchell, whichever isn’t the primary carrier.”

“Yeah. Got you. I guess there’s no reason to stall anymore. Might as well do it.”

A thought had wormed through my head several times lately. I’d pushed it out over and over. It came back again. I was going to be sorry, but, “I maybe ought to go with the first rush. The girl will recognize me. If I let her know it’s a rescue, we can maybe keep the panic level down, maybe save ourselves some people getting hurt.”

“That’s up to you. You want to go, go. I’m giving Relway first shot. Tell him what you’re doing, then don’t give him no grief while he’s doing his job. He’s better than any of my regulars.”

“Right.” I joined Relway. “I’m going in with you. The girl knows me.”

“You armed?”

“Not for blood.” I showed him my headknocker.

He shrugged. “Don’t get in the way of the real cops.”

What a straight line. It was all I could do to avoid temptation.

Relway’s storm group were armed up to take a town from a Venageti Guards division. I hoped they’d had some experience along those lines. They hadn’t had any training since.

“You figure to face that much trouble?”

“No,” Relway said. “But this bunch will be ready for whatever trouble they do find.”

“Good thinking. No way you can get chewed out for not being ready when you go in ready for everything.”

Relway smiled. “There you go.”

I looked across the street. Spike was restless. “Things always get more real at moments like this.”

“You had it that way down there?”

“Worse. Lots worse. I was a scared kid then.”

“Me too. You ready?”

“I won’t get any readier.”

“Follow me.” He took off. Garrett the white knight pranced the cobblestones a step behind, followed by a half-dozen uniformed champions of justice who had no idea how to accomplish what they’d been ordered to do. They hadn’t joined the Watch to capture madmen or protect TunFaire from villains.

The ratman had a tiny basement window scouted. As we arrived, he dived through, wriggling, his hideous naked tail lashing behind him. I think that’s what gets me about ratmen. The tails. They’re really disgusting.

“After you,” Relway said as that tail slithered inside.

“What?” That window was too small. It wasn’t meant to pass a body. It was as big as it was only because some small-timers had worked on it so they could get inside and clean the place out. Of what, I can’t imagine.

“You said you’re the hero she knows.”

“Shit.” And I did volunteer for this.

I flopped on my belly and shoved my feet through the window. The ratman pulled. Relway shoved. I popped through, hit the floor, stumbled over a loose brick, muttered, “Where are they?”

“Back where you see the light,” Spike whispered. That made him real hard to understand. Ratmen have trouble enough talking without whispering. Their throats aren’t made for speech. “You cover while we get more men down.” This ratman had spent a lifetime dealing with humans. He hadn’t hidden himself away from the mainstream, content to live in society’s cracks, taking only what no one else wanted. My respect for him rose.

I readied my headknocker, advanced toward the light, which leaked around a poorly closed door. I wondered why Winchell and Ripley hadn’t either attacked us or made a run for it. Seemed to me we were making an armageddon sort of racket.

All of a sudden I had three guys behind me and Relway telling them, “We’ve got the other way out covered. Let’s do it. Garrett?”

I took a deep breath and hit the door. I hurled myself at it, expected to demolish my shoulder.

The door collapsed. I didn’t know my own strength. I was a regular Saucerhead Tharpe. I tore it right off its hinges.

I collapsed after two staggering steps over a footing of broken bricks.

Elvis Winchell and Price Ripley were hard at work snoring on beds of sacks and rags. Evidently carrying a curse was exhausting work. The only open eyes around belonged to Candy. She responded to my entrance but not in any wild display of joy.

Hell. She didn’t know why we were there. For all she knew, we were pals with Winchell and his sidekick. I stumbled to my feet. “We’re the rescue crew.” Winchell and Ripley had begun to respond, finally. Relway bopped Ripley over the head before the poor guy could get his eyes open. Relway wasn’t having any trouble with the footing. He looked positively graceful.

Spike had less luck putting Winchell back to sleep. Winchell evaded his blows, scooted away, his eyes trying to sparkle green. Maybe he didn’t quite have the hang of it yet.

Gods, he looked awful. Like he’d aged fifteen years in the time since he’d helped bring in the villain Downtown Byrd had given us. Ripley, too, looked bad, but not nearly as bad as Winchell.

“Rescue crew? You sure? You look more like a circus act.”

Spike and two Watchmen were chasing Winchell. Winchell wasn’t cooperating at all. Relway and the other man were stuffing Ripley into a big sack.

Block appeared at the other entrance to the cellar, was careful not to place himself in extreme danger. I called, “Hey, Captain. This one don’t need rescuing. She’s got it under control already.”

Candy said, “You’re the guy who’s been hanging around Hullar’s.” I cut the cords binding her ankles. They were nice ankles. I hadn’t noticed how nice before. I’d been entranced by all the nice stuff higher up. “Garrett?”

“That’s me. Trusty knight-errant. Invariably refused and abused for trying to warn people that they’re in danger.”

“Watch the hands, boy. I’ve heard about you.”

Ripley was headed for the street now, out of it, but Winchell was putting up a fight, even though Relway and Spike, working together, had a sack over his head and arms. Neither Relway nor Winchell was in uniform. Having been employed, both had been able to afford reasonably nice civilian clothing. Vaguely surprised, though, I noted that Winchell used a rather heavy-looking piece of rope for a belt.

“I’ve heard about me too. Sometimes I don’t recognize myself. What did you hear? Obviously not that I’m a prize.”

Spike, Relway, and the gang managed to get Winchell tipped over and all the way into the giant sack. Relway got busy tying it shut.

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