Deadly Quicksilver Lies (32 page)

“Of course you were.”

“Where’s Mr. Big, Mr. Garrett?” Spud rasped. The kid was putting on a show of boldly standing up to his pain.

“Damn! It’s silver lining time.” I glanced back at the gate. “If we’re lucky, by now Relway has taken all the beak he can stand and he’s twisted its fowl head off.”

The kid glared daggers.

I asked Morley, “You going to be all right?”

“I’m giving up cartwheels. Listen. Somebody coming.”

Turned out to be a lot of somebodies.

We faded into the woods opposite the Tops before another troop of Guards arrived, their mounts acting spooky. “Those look like regular cavalry,” Morley whispered.

Did to me, too. “Relway is putting on a big show.” I wondered if maybe there wasn’t something to his paranoia.

“We better scat,” Sarge suggested. “’Fore they get so thick we cain’t move.”

Good idea.

“Not yet,” Morley said.

Baffled, Sarge asked, “How come you want to hang out?”

Good question. We couldn’t do ourselves any good.

“I’m waiting for Tharpe.”

“He all right?” I asked.

“Was.”

“How long we gonna...?”

“I’ll let you know, Sarge. Garrett!”

I’d begun shaking, had lost focus. I had passed beyond the immediacy of the moment and had time to reflect on what I’d lived through. And on the fact that a couple of mentally handicapped guys hadn’t made it... “What?”

“You’re the healthiest. Go watch for Saucerhead.”

I sighed. I wanted to go home. I wanted to put myself to bed and sleep a week, till the pain and guilt were gone. Then I could get shut of this life. I could see Weider, tell him I was ready to take that full-time security job. They don’t drug you and torture you and kill your friends at the brewery — and you’re never far from a beer.

I found me a nice spot and settled to watch the manor gate.

I’d been there just seconds when buzzing flies and an odd odor grabbed my attention. Well. Fresh horse apples. And horsehair in the bark of a nearby tree. I looked around. Leaves on the ground had been turned. I found the impression of a shod hoof smaller than that of any riding horse. The shoe style would be recognized by anyone who had served in the Cantard.

It was a centaur’s shoe.

The impression wasn’t clear enough to tell me which tribe, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was that a centaur had been watching the manor gate from this same spot until very recently.

The ugly angles grew heavier by the minute. I wanted away. None of this stuff out here had anything to do with me and my troubles.

71

That misbegotten Saucerhead. He didn’t bother using the gate even though there was nobody there to contest it. He came over the wall, down the lane. I noticed when a major tree branch suddenly dipped its chin in the dust. It popped when Tharpe let loose.

He was carrying somebody.

How does the man do these things? He isn’t human. I limped over. “What you got?” Like I hadn’t figured it out at first glance.

Her mother had told me that she looked like her only with less wear. I promise you, Maggie Jenn turned them to stone in her day. The kid made it plain why Teddy went goofy back when.

“Spotted her when we was sneaking out. I figured it wasn’t right we went to all that trouble, so many folks got hurt, you didn’t get a crack at what started it all.”

His shirt wiggled, heaved. Something made an ugly noise. I had a bad feeling.

Saucerhead worsened it immediately. “Oh. Yeah. I brung your bird. I stuffed him in my shirt on account of he wouldn’t shut up.”

I brandished a fist at the sky.

The breeze in the boughs sounded like divine snickers.

Saucerhead asked, “You want the bird or the girl?”

“Looks like I got the bird already.”

“To carry.” He did understand, though. “The chit, she don’t really want to come.”

“No. And you with your sweet tongue.”

She hadn’t said anything yet. She didn’t now but did flash me a cold look that made me glad she couldn’t do what she was thinking.

“Give me the talking feather duster. I can’t manage anything bigger.”

“Suit yourself.” Saucerhead had kept the girl on his shoulder, sack of grain style. He asked her, “You want to walk? Or do I got to keep carrying you?”

She didn’t answer. Saucerhead shrugged. He hardly noticed her weight.

The others joined us, drawn by our voices. Spud fussed over the bird. Morley had rigged himself some crude splints. I gestured at the parrot. “My pal had to do me a favor.”

Morley tried to chuckle. Pain got in the way. I asked, “Can you manage?”

“Just won’t play bowls this week.”

“Poor Julie.”

“We’ll work something out.” He offered a glimpse of his wicked grin. “Let’s roll. Before Relway realizes he’s played it wrong and wants us to explain.”

“What happened to Winger? Anybody see?”

Nobody had but Morley opined, “She got away. She has her own guardian angels.”

“She gets Relway after her she’ll need them.” We walked as fast as we could with wounds and burdens, the Goddamn Parrot denouncing the whole bleeding world for all the indignities he’d suffered. Even Spud’s patience became strained.

Sarge sneered, “Least it ain’t blamin’ everythin’ on you no more, Garrett.”

Morley eyed that jungle chicken like he was considering abandoning the vegetarian life-style. I told him, “Thank Saucerhead.
I
left it for Relway. They’re perfect for each other.”

Nobody laughed. Sourpusses.

“Was that the Rainmaker you was chasing back there?” Saucerhead asked. He spat a wad of sourgrass he’d been chewing. He remained indifferent to Emerald’s weight.

“Yeah.”

“That runt? Hey!” The girl was wiggling. “Knock it off.” He swatted her bottom. “I always thought the Rainmaker had to be nine feet tall.”

“With hooves and horns. I know. I was disappointed, too.”

Morley snickered. “He sure was.” I gave him a dirty look. He never let up, pain or no pain.

72

I lost the election. My place got picked for the human reassembly party. Morley hinted that he didn’t want word of his injury getting out right away. He didn’t want the wolves smelling blood before he was ready.

I bought it. He has his enemies.

I had trouble getting comfortable. My home contained too many reminders of Slither and Ivy.

“It wasn’t right,” I told Eleanor. “They didn’t deserve it.” I listened momentarily. My kitchen had become an infirmary. Saucerhead had recruited a defrocked doctor who imagined himself a crusty town character. He reeked of alcohol and hadn’t stumbled against soap or a razor for weeks so I guess he qualified.

“Yeah, I know,” I told Eleanor. “Life don’t make sense, it ain’t fair and don’t ever ask the gods for dramatic unity. But I don’t have to like it. Got any idea what I should do with the girl?”

Emerald was confined in Dean’s room. She hadn’t delivered a word yet. She wouldn’t believe me when I said I wasn’t on her mom’s payroll.

Could be she didn’t care if I wasn’t. You snatch some people, they never do warm up.

Eleanor had no suggestions. I said, “I’d cut her loose if there weren’t people out there who’d jump all over her.” Eleanor did not disapprove. “Speaking of whom, I wonder how long it’ll be before Winger turns up with one of her outstanding stories?”

I was looking forward to that.

Morley howled. There was a crash. I headed for the kitchen. Dotes began threatening bloodshed. “Not in my kitchen!” I yelled. I stopped to check on the Dead Man.

A bug darted across his cheek, hid behind his proboscis. If Dean didn’t get home soon, I was going to have to clean him up myself. Maybe I’d bring him some flowers. He used to like bouquets.

The Goddamn Parrot started yelling louder than Morley. I told the Dead Man, “You’re not earning your keep.”

It wasn’t pretty in the kitchen. All that whimpering and whining. The doc had finished, though. He was under an inverted wine bottle, using a half pint to clear his palate. I made a face. Even ratmen shunned the stuff he was swilling. “You all going to live?”

“No thanks to that butcher,” Morley snarled.

Saucerhead asked, “You ever see him act like such a baby?”

“You oversized... If brains were fire you couldn’t burn your own house down.” He jumped up on a chair and started ranting like some Holy Roller soul-scavenger.

I asked Sarge, “The doc give him something?”

Sarge shrugged. “Come on, boss. Give Doc a break. He fixed your arm. And he ain’t been getting much work since they cut him loose from the Bledsoe.”

No wonder he was drinking bottom of the barrel. He
was
bottom stuff himself... I glanced at Saucerhead. Doc must be some relative of his new lady.

Surly but silent, Morley paid his fees. Spud didn’t look much happier. I decided to get the old boy out while Dotes was feeling generous. I got hold of Doc’s arm and pulled.

“You really get the boot at the Bledsoe?” Hard to imagine that as possible, yet I’d met two such in just a few days.

“I drink a bit, son.”

“No.”

“Steadied my hands when I was young, chopping off arms and legs down in the Cantard, couple lifetimes ago. Don’t work anymore, though. Barley kills the pain now.”

He stepped outside, cloaked himself in what dignity he retained, started down to the street, stumbled, fell the last two steps. On her stoop, Mrs. Cardonlos paused to glare and nod to herself. I blew her a kiss. I studied the street.

It was hard to tell, but I thought I saw a few folks who didn’t ring right.

Again? Or still? I eyed Mrs. Cardonlos again. Her being out on point might mean she expected further proof that Garrett was a peril to the neighborhood.

I shut the door, thoughtful.

I had an idea.

I headed for the kitchen. “Saucerhead, want to run an errand?” I showed him some shiny copper.

“Talked me into it, you smoothie. What?”

“Give me a minute. I need to write a letter.”

73

At last the house was quiet. The mob was away. The Goddamn Parrot had a full crop and was sleeping. I was in my office sharing the silence with Eleanor.

Naturally, somebody came to the door.

“My answer from Chaz.” Or maybe Winger, if her creative side was hot.

I was hoping she had a block.

I used the peephole.

Got it right first guess. Mr. W. Tharpe with mail.

I leaned into the gloom of the Dead Man’s room. Vermin scurried. I told him, “I’m off. And she’s the most beautiful blonde you never saw. Don’t wait up.”

He didn’t wish me luck.

I left the house without so much as a passing thought about the gorgeous redhead stashed upstairs.

It was the best table in the place but still only the Joy House. You do business with a world-class sorcerer, you can be a little more comfortable doing it on familiar ground.

Conscious of their bid to go upscale, Morley and his thugs were on their best behavior. Puddle even donned a clean shirt and tucked it in.

The Firelord had dressed down. Excellent. I didn’t want casual acquaintances getting nervous because of my contact with him.

He looked like a big old dock walloper.

With him dressed down and Chaz dressed up, nobody paid him much attention. Even I had trouble concentrating. “Excuse me?”

“I said I’m serving my own interests.”

I recalled now. I’d thanked him for not making a show. “Oh.”

“Believe it or not, there are people who might do me an injury if they caught me off my usual range.”

“Really?” My gaze swerved back to Chaz. The woman had dressed to kill and was armed with her best assassin’s smile.

“Hard to believe, right? Big old cuddle bear like me?” He turned to Morley, who hovered at the head of a platoon of ready servers. “I’m not real hungry tonight. I’ll take half pound of roast beef rare, sides of mutton, and pork. No fruits or vegetables.”

Morley went paler than a blanching vampire. He nodded sharply, once, some postmortem spasm. He fish-eyed me and my grin. His eyes were the lamps of hell. I decided not to rub it in.

I ordered one of the more palatable house specialties. Chaz followed my lead.

Morley stamped toward the kitchen, dragging Puddle, muttering orders. I wondered which neighboring establishment would subcontract Direheart’s order.

I fought the chuckles as I brought the firelord up to date.

“You let him get away?”

“I didn’t let. Let wasn’t part of the equation. He got. You want, I’ll take you to see him after supper.”

Good Old Fred raised both eyebrows. But then he came after me about the centaur sign outside The Tops. His intensity confirmed my suspicions. He’d had definite reasons for coming home from the Cantard early.

In time, I led him back to the Rainmaker. He frowned, told me, “I’m generous to a fault, Garrett. Anyone will tell you that. Especially where my little girl is concerned. But I won’t let you milk this forever.”

“That’s good to hear.’Cause I’m sick of the whole damned thing. I’ve got one bruise too many, for nothing.”

Morley returned to hover in time to overhear. He lifted an eyebrow.

I continued, “I’m closing this down soon as we eat.”

Morley stifled his surprise, but Chaz and her pop both blurted, “What?”

“We eat, I take you to Cleaver, my part’s done. You all settle up. I’m home having a beer before I hit the sack.”

Direheart started to get up. He was ready.

Morley started slide-stepping toward the kitchen. Maybe he was headed for cover.

Chaz smiled like her brain had gone north. I’d begun to wonder about her. When her dad was around, she worked at cute and dumb.

“Sit down,” I said. “Morley went to a lot of trouble with your order. And Cleaver will be there when we get there.” Dinner hadn’t yet arrived.

Morley could’ve been going to check its progress, but I wouldn’t have bet two dead flies on that.

Nice of him to be so predictable.

After the Tops, I didn’t have a trick left. What I hadn’t used I’d lost or had taken. Might have been smart to see Handsome before dinner.