Faded Steel Heat (51 page)

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Authors: Glen Cook

BOOK: Faded Steel Heat
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“I know where you’re going. And you’re way wrong.” But he frowned, a long way from convinced. There was something bothering him. He confessed, “He does seem to have developed a strong spiritual streak since he dodged the reaper.”

“I can see how that might happen. Is he more social now that he doesn’t have Montezuma to talk for him?”

“No. But I do see more of him because I have to.”

“Did you find Tollie? Did you identify that dead man?”

“No. And no. And good night.” Nagit went away not happy at all.

Then there was just Morley and Tinnie and Belinda. Belinda was surprised to find herself on the front stoop with me as her coach rolled up, almost as though someone had been reading minds. She offered me a darkly suspicious look.

I turned on the boyish charm. “You knew it would be dangerous when you came here. When you didn’t have to come.”

That touched her sense of humor. She flashed a quick smile, then swamped me in a brief, impulsive hug that left Tinnie tapping her toe.

“They go off together?” Morley asked as I closed the door.

“No. Nagit might be just smart enough not to swim with the sharks. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t volunteer to make sure Gilbey gets home safely, though.”

Garrett, it is time we moved to the final phase. To do so I must have Colonel Block removed from the premises.

“Damn! I almost forgot he was here.” The good Guardsman had been making himself small, perhaps hoping to find out what everyone was up to now. And my brilliant associate would be interested in what the Guard was up to. What Block himself might not know directly he could infer from experience and reference to other sources.

A modicum of respect at last. The colonel?

“I’m on it. What about Morley and Tinnie?”

Mr. Dotes’ special skills may prove useful. Pular Singe will not be the only observer in place though I have yet to detect any obvious watchers.

Of course. Brother Relway would have his eyes anywhere any pair of my guests crossed paths.

“Surely there’ll be no need for excitement.”

That will hinge upon how badly the interested parties wish to gain control of Pular Singe or Tama Montezuma. Ah. The ratgirl has summoned her courage and is approaching. I suggest you see her in the kitchen. I will ask Miss Tate and Mr. Dotes to remain out of sight here with me.

“What about Dean?”

He will have to answer the door. Singe might bolt if you do and she sees that your ill health has been exaggerated.

“You set this whole thing up just to pull her in?”

Not
just.
It was a tapestry. A work in progress. Pular Singe’s arrival is the final thread.

“You learn anything while you were slithering around inside their heads?” I can figure things out. I’m a skilled detective.

Enough.

“Meaning you’re not going to share.”

Not unless it becomes necessary. Singe is standing in front of the stoop. She will find enough nerve to knock. Establish yourself in the kitchen.

“How about the other watchers? Her showing up will excite them.”

Pular Singe is invisible. Go to the kitchen. Try to look sick. Dean! Answer the door.

Singe knocked as Dean and I passed one another in the hall, me wondering how much of that exchange Morley and Tinnie would recall later.

Not a word. They are enjoying a visit with Mister Big. Go to the kitchen.

 

 

111

I did my best to hunch over and look miserable as the sound of claws on wooden flooring rasped toward me. Dean was talking but the words coming out of his mouth definitely were not Deanish. Damn! That meant I would have to listen for a week while the old man pissed and moaned about the Dead Man taking control without asking.

I suggest you muster what charm you can, Garrett. This child is more difficult than I anticipated. I cannot examine her thoughts without alerting her to my interest.

I muttered, “I’m beginning to wonder just how much good you are. Seems everybody’s opaque to you lately.”

The kitchen door swung toward me. I sipped tea but thought about getting together with some beer. Dean said, “Here’s Mr. Garrett. Mr. Garrett, it’s long past time I retired. I’ll see you in the morning. Please remember to lock up.”

I grumbled something uncharitable, turned my head to look at Singe.

I did not see Singe. Not immediately. I saw a bent old woman bundled in layer upon layer of rags the way some street folk do. A huge, ugly hat that could only be of dwarfish provenance cast a shadow deep enough to leave her face indefinite. She must have bound her tail up behind her somehow because it wasn’t out where it could be seen. She leaned on a heavy cane, which went a long way toward disguising the strange way ratpeople walk.

“Very good. You amaze me yet again. You’re going to conquer the world. Tea? Something else? There’s beer.”

“You were expecting me?”

“I wasn’t. Until a few minutes ago. Take a seat.” Ratpeople can sit on their behinds although they find human furniture difficult. “Associates of mine wanted you to come see me.”

“You’re not dying? This is a trap?” Her Karentine seemed to be improving by the hour. She didn’t have much more accent than Winger now, though her sibilants still gave her difficulty.

“I’m not dying. Sorry to disappoint you. On the other hand, this isn’t a trap. You have my personal guarantee on that. Whatever anyone else might have had planned. That was a clever trick you pulled on us last week.”

“Maybe. But foolish.” Her “L” sounds still gave her trouble, too. “I did not think through the consequences. A common failing of my people.”

“A common failing of everybody’s people. Go ahead. Sit.”

She sat. I patted her hand, then poured her a cup of tea, pushed across the pot of honey. She showed manners enough not to gobble the stuff straight from the container. Her hand was unsteady as she drank her tea, which she found difficult with a human cup.

I felt a little guilty even though this encounter was not of my manufacture. She was smart enough to understand that her emotions had been manipulated, which meant that they were no secret to those who had manipulated her. Which, of course, she would find embarrassing. “Why did you want me here?”

I reminded her that this was not of my doing but then admitted, “Tama Montezuma. My associates believe you know where she’s hiding.”

Singe sighed. “Of course.”

I whispered, “Montezuma’s money means nothing to me. Except that I don’t want it to get back to the kind of people who would use it to finance cruelty toward those they hate.”

“I am afraid, you know. Very much afraid. I did not foresee the interest others would show in finding that woman. I thought that once she disappeared they would forget about her.”

“Human people have very long memories, Singe. Particularly in regard to grudges. Which is a thought to keep in mind if you’re ever about to cross someone.”

“That is a thought to keep in mind even if you are going to cross a nonhuman. Reliance, I am told, has been very bitter about my show of independence.”

“I’ll warn him not to be unreasonable.
Do
you know where Tama Montezuma is hiding?”

She had to think about her answer. It took her several minutes to decide to trust me and nod. I didn’t become restless, waiting. Unlike other members of the household, I was willing to accept whatever decision Singe made.

I found it both amusing and a tad disturbing that the Dead Man couldn’t snoop around inside her head — at least not subtly, undetected. Maybe she could teach me the trick.

“Yes. I know where she is, Garrett.”

“Will you show me?”

“Am I wrong about you? Are you just after the money, too? Like your dark-elf friend up front?” She tapped her nose to tell me how she knew.

“Morley? He’s my friend. But you’re right. You have to keep an eye on him. He has his own agendas. He’s interested in Tama mainly because of the money. I’m interested because the things she did caused a lot of people to die. Some of them were people I was supposed to protect. I can’t let that go. Not even if I wanted to. Not even though I understand what made her do what she did.”

“She is very unhappy. She has not moved since she entered the place where she is hiding now. It was prepared ahead. She can stay there a long time. She cries a lot.”

“She sure can’t wander the streets. Somebody would recognize her before she walked two blocks.” I had trouble imagining Tama Montezuma in tears. They must be on her own behalf.

“She has disguises. But she is waiting for a time when she is mostly forgotten.” My look caused her to add, “She talks to herself. Out loud. I found a way to get close enough to listen. That is where I have been hiding most of the time.”

“Fenibro and Reliance himself came here looking for you. Several times. They’ve been at The Palms nagging Morley, too.”

“Uncle will have to accept what he cannot change.” She shuddered. “Yes. I will take you there.”

“I want Morley to go along. I’ll keep his greed under control.”

“He will be disappointed, anyway. And the copper-haired woman?”

“Hunh?”

“She is in that room with the dark-elf and the bird and something else with an odor like death buried deep. She was at the mansion where the shapeshifters were caught. What is her part?”

A very neutral response was in order, I suspected. “A friend of long standing who heard the rumors you had and came here the same as the others tonight. She won’t join us.” I hoped. Tinnie made some strange choices when the mood took her and she was hard to dissuade. “She just hadn’t left yet when you came to the door.”

No telling what was going on inside Singe’s head. She accepted my explanation. For the moment.

I suggest you be on your way before she changes her mind. Do not dawdle exiting the neighborhood. I will bewilder and confuse any watchers but I can manage that only for a few seconds. Certainly less than a minute.

I grunted grumpily. Any watchers would want to follow me, not the ragged crone.

Singe made an unhappy noise, too.

“What’s the matter?”

“I was dizzy for a second. It was like there was a buzzing inside my head.”

“Hunh.” She had some slight psychic sense, too? Amazing.

 

 

112

“Quite a comedown from a manor in the country,” Morley observed. The structure before us wasn’t abandoned but certainly deserved to be. There was no charitable way to consider it fit for human occupation.

We stood in shadow, waiting while Singe shed her disguise. I mused, “But it’s probably the kind of place she lived before she found out what she could do with what nature gave her and went to work on TunFaire.”

“Where the streets are paved with gold.”

Everyone comes to TunFaire to find their fortune. Mostly the survivors find despair. But there are just enough success stories to keep the gullible coming. “Fool’s gold.”

“Ready,” Singe whispered. “Follow me.” She darted from cover to cover, her true nature guiding her. The Goddamn Parrot fluttered across, high enough to be heard only, not seen, scouting from above. Morley and I followed the ratgirl. Dotes continued grumbling about not being allowed to bring along any of his friends from The Palms. I stopped listening.

We practically stumbled over a trio of ogre teenagers, one of each sex, who were way out of their territory and almost certainly up to no good themselves. They never saw Singe. They turned tail quickly once they glimpsed the equipment Morley and I were carrying. I decided I had yet another reason for wringing the Goddamn Parrot’s neck. What the hell kind of scouting was he doing? He should’ve warned us.

The encounter did shut Morley up. Which would’ve happened anyway. He shows no lack of concentration when the situation gets tight.

We took the rat route inside. No front door. We wriggled through a huge gap in a broken foundation That placed us inside a cluttered, stinking cellar so dark even Morley couldn’t see and had to be guided to a rickety stair by Singe. She murmured, “Stay close to the wall. Especially you, Garrett. It might not take your weight otherwise.” Sounded like she was trying to crack wise. She needed practice. Maybe I’d let her work with the Goddamn Parrot.

The stairs groaned in protest. I sneezed despite a struggle to avoid that. Morley was having trouble with the musty air, too. I wondered why we hadn’t just come in using the people route. Maybe I’d ask later. Maybe the simple thing hadn’t occurred to Singe. We’re all creatures of habit.

Tama Montezuma was multitalented but being a light sleeper didn’t appear to be amongst her skills. Moreover, she snored like a drunken boatswain. That seemed way out of character.

The memory of a cloying, sweetish odor hung on the air. As Singe struck a spark to light a lamp for my benefit, I recognized that smell. Burnt opium. Opium smoking is an uncommon vice in TunFaire. It’s an expensive, dangerous indulgence in an area where far cheaper, safer substitutes will whack your brain just as far around sideways and leave you drooling and acting even more stupid.

I had seen nothing to suggest she was an addict. But many addicts do function quite well much of the time, if they have money.

The light revealed a woman who had fallen apart, not at all the Tama Montezuma I had encountered at The Pipes. This Tama had fled all the way back to her roots, and beyond, in almost no time. This wasn’t the Tama everybody wanted to find. This was a Tama overcome by despair, a Tama who had no more reason to live. This was a Tama who couldn’t possibly have a stolen fortune hidden.

“You could have taken her,” Morley murmured to Singe. “You didn’t need our help.” He looked at me. I could see the same thoughts flaring behind his eyes as were exploding behind mine.

“Yes. But it did not seem there was anything to be gained.”

Our talk roused Tama. She struggled to sit up. She hadn’t been eating well or keeping herself clean. She managed to look up at me. “You finally got here.”

“I’m a little slow. Singe had to come fetch me.” I didn’t tell her I hadn’t been looking.

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