Authors: Glen Cook
All the time we were talking Rhafi kept maneuvering back and forth, trying to reach the door with his sack of plunder. While trying to keep facing away from Casey and keeping me or Playmate in between.
I told him, “You can forget what I said, Rhafi. I think we’re all going to work the same side.”
The boy stayed behind Playmate while he said, “Kip won’t give those guys up.”
“Then maybe we’ll just toss him back to the bad guys.” I hadn’t fallen in love with Cypres Prose during my brief exposure to the kid. I kept wondering what I was doing, not just dropping the whole thing. Doing a favor for a friend? I did owe for all those times when Playmate had done really big favors for me.
“Just leave the bag on the table, please,” Casey told Rhafi. “I will return everything to its proper place. Mr. Garrett, when would you like to pursue this matter?”
“I’m going to take it as stipulated that you’re the expert on the people holding Kip. How dangerous is that situation?” There was a time when I did a lot of work related to kidnappings and hostage holdings. Unless the villains belong to one of just a handful of professional gangs the victim’s chances are slim. And they deteriorate with time.
“By the standards of your city those scoundrels are a waste of flesh. You people are more casually cruel to your own families and friends, without thought, than Maskers can be under full force of malice. The dangers enveloping Cypres Prose are almost entirely emotional and spiritual, perils of the soul your people almost entirely discount as irrelevant at best.”
I could buy that. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Which was, probably, his point. “They aren’t breaking his teeth or shoving hot needles under his nails?”
Casey managed to project an aura of horror so strong that it got me thinking about some of the other feelings I’d experienced since he’d shown up. “No. Nothing like that.”
“Then, if he’s in no immediate physical danger, I’m going home and getting something to eat. And maybe I’ll take a nap.” And then maybe I could dash over to Katie’s and see what I could do to patch things up. Hoping her father wasn’t home. Katie’s father doesn’t realize that she isn’t twelve years old anymore. “And I’m sure Playmate is worried sick about his stable.” Down deep Playmate has to know what monsters he’s harboring.
Casey shuddered. He projected quietly controlled terror. He knew the truth.
I might like this guy after all. Even if I didn’t trust him farther than I could throw the proverbial bull mammoth.
I suggested, “Why don’t we all wrap up all our other business, then meet at my place in the morning. We can go find Kip from there.”
“Your morning or real morning?” Playmate asked. “We need to get that established.” He couldn’t conceal his sneer.
In addition to his completely self-delusory regard for the equine race Playmate is a devoted adherent of that perverse doctrine which suggests that it’s a
good
thing to be up and working ere ever the sun peeps over the horizon. Which goes to show just how broad-minded a guy I am. I still consider him a friend.
“Solar morning. But no before the crack of dawn stuff. Moderation in all things, that’s my motto.”
“Even in telling us what your motto is, evidently,” Playmate cracked. “Because I’ve never been there to hear you state it. Before now.”
“After sunrise,” I grumped. “Rhafi, we’re leaving now. You go out first. Playmate, you follow. Casey, I know you’re a stranger here. But you’ve been here a while and those books tell me you’ve been trying to learn your way around. Here’s a tip. Don’t ever leave your door unlocked again. I guarantee you, next time you do these people here, your neighbors, will steal everything but your middle name before you get down the stairs to the street.”
I backed out of the room myself. I retreated cautiously until I reached the head of the stairs. Needlessly. Casey never stuck his head out of his room.
29
“That was clever, Garrett,” Playmate said after we hit the street.
“I thought so myself. But, knowing my luck, the Dead Man will be sound asleep when Casey shows up tomorrow.”
Playmate chuckled.
I stopped the parade half a block from the yellow tenement. “Rhafi. What did you take?”
“Take? What do you mean? I didn’t take...”
I had been fishing because it seemed in character. His response betrayed him. “I saw you. I want it. Right now. And no holding back.”
“Aw...”
Playmate explained, “Look, if you make Casey mad he might not help us get Kip back.”
There followed an exchange during which Playmate almost lost his temper because he couldn’t make the kid understand how Casey could guess that
he
had taken anything that turned up missing.
Rhafi hadn’t gotten the brains or the looks.
Rhafi began to look like he wanted to cry. But he held it in. He produced three small gray objects, two dark and one light, in varying shapes and sizes, though none had a major dimension exceeding four inches. Except for colored markings on their surfaces all three items looked like they had been cast from some material that resembled ivory or bone when it hardened. All three items had slightly roughened surfaces.
We stood in a triangle, facing inward, examining Rhafi’s loot. I handled everything with extreme care. There was almost certainly some kind of sorcery involved with those things and I had no desire to wake it up. I concealed them about my person carefully. “Good. Now I have a job assignment for you, Rhafi. I want you to stay right here and watch that yellow brick tenement. See if anybody who might be our friend Casey ever leaves. Keeping in mind that he’ll be wearing some kind of disguise. You saw the clothes and stuff he had.”
“You want me to see where he goes?” As I’d hoped, he was all excited.
“No. No. Don’t do that. I don’t want you to end up like Kip. You just stay here till a man named Saucerhead Tharpe shows up. You’ll know him by how big he is and because he has bad teeth. If Casey does leave, make sure you can give Saucerhead a good description of his disguise. Whatever, once Saucerhead shows up, you go home. I want you to tell your mom that we don’t think Kip is in any physical danger, that we’re on the trail, and that it looks like we might get them back as early as tomorrow. Got all that?”
“Sure, Mr. Garrett.”
“Excellent. You make a good operative.”
As soon as we were out of earshot, Playmate asked, “Do you believe that? That Kip’s not in any real danger?”
“I think our new pal Casey believes that. I’m not sure how come but I could tell what he was feeling. Maybe it’s because of all the time I spend around the Dead Man. Then I get close to somebody who probably communicates the same way and I just kind of cue in. I’ll ask His Nibs.”
“Uhm. Darn. I’ve got to find somebody to watch the stable. I can’t keep walking away like this. The horses need attention. Somebody has to be there to deal with customers.”
“Not to mention thieves.”
“That’s not a problem in my neighborhood.” He stated that with complete conviction. I hoped his optimism wasn’t misplaced.
“You ought to get yourself a wife.”
“I’m reminded of an old saw about talking pots and black kettles.”
He would be. “I’m doing something with
my
bachelorhood. I’m laying in memories for those long, cool years down the road. Look, I’ve got to send Saucerhead down to relieve Rhafi. Saucerhead will know where to find Winger. I can have him tell her to come over and cover for you.”
Playmate made growlie noises. He grumbled. He whined. Winger has a million faults but her country origins qualified her to baby-sit a stable. And she’d probably do a decent job as long as she was getting paid. Assuming Playmate had sense enough not to leave any valuables lying around. Winger has a real hard time resisting temptation.
It was the getting paid part that had been giving my large friend problems throughout this mess. He’d made commitments without first considering the fact that somebody would have to part with some money to see them met.
Winger would expect to be paid. Saucerhead would expect to be paid. Garrett the professional snoop might be gouged for a favor or two but you couldn’t expect him to pay his own expenses. And he was out of pocket already for help from several people, including Mr. Tharpe, Pular Singe the tracker, and the generous assistance of the Morley Dotes glee club and bone-breaking society.
Hell, even my partner, who didn’t have much else to do and didn’t require much upkeep, might insist on some sort of compensation, just so the forms of commerce were observed.
He can be a stickler for form and propriety.
Sometimes I suspect he isn’t aging all that well.
Playmate said, “There isn’t any money in this, Garrett! You saw Kayne and her kids.”
“We could always auction off a few horses. They’re begging for them down at Kansas and Love’s, way I hear.”
Playmate was so aghast he couldn’t even sputter. From his point of view my simple mention of a slaughterhouse was so far beyond the pale that he found it impossible to believe that such words could have issued from a human mouth.
And I just couldn’t resist needling him. “Which is hard to understand, what with all the surplus horses there ought to be these days.”
“Garrett!” he gasped. “Don’t. Enough. Not funny, man.”
“All right. All right. You’ll wake up someday. And I’ll sing a thirty-seven-verse serenade of ‘I Told You So,’ outside your window.”
He just shook his head.
“I’ll get Winger headed your way. Maybe we can work out a deal where we’ll all take a percentage of the profits from Kip’s inventions.”
That actually began to sound like a good idea once it got away. I might talk to the Dead Man. And to Max Weider at the Weider brewery, where I’m on retainer, next time I ran a surprise check on floor losses for him. Max Weider has a good eye for what people might want to buy and plenty of practical knowledge about how to get them together with your product so they have an opportunity to realize just how much they can’t live without it.
Moments after Playmate and I parted my head was awash in grand schemes that would make me one of TunFaire’s great commercial magnates.
30
The Dead Man was still awake. And still intrigued. Which left me vaguely uncomfortable. Usually a major part of the work I do consists of getting him to wake up, then getting him interested enough to participate, then keeping him awake until we finish. Any prolonged period of self-stimulated interest and cooperation generally constitutes a harbinger of an equally prolonged period where neither cataclysm nor calamity will stir him.
I described my day and refused to rise to the bait when he chided me for having knocked off work so early.
It might be interesting to interview the mother and sister. Arrange to bring them around... You are incorrigible, sir.
“So don’t incorrige me.”
A weakness for punning is one of the onset signatures of senility, Garrett. I would suggest that a hands-off approach might be the safest policy with these women, if indeed your characterization captures the reality.
“I probably can’t argue with you there. But, oh, are they scrumdidlyicious to look at.”
A status you appear to accord almost any female you encounter if she is able to stand up on her hind legs.
“Unless she’s related to Dean. It’s a marvel how many homely women that family can pull together in one place.”
The Casey creature. You did indeed feel that he was honest?
“Yeah. Well, he thought he was. We need to talk more about how I was sensing him. If that was for real, and I think it was, I want to be able to use it. As long as I have a good feel for what he’s thinking I can keep him from putting one over on us primitives.”
Primitives?
He knew what I was getting at but wanted me to articulate it better so I’d be clearer about it in my own mind.
“Possibly ‘primitive’ is the wrong word. He had an aura of superiority about him. It had a strong moral edge to it. A self-righteousness. Like Dean, only much more carefully concealed.”
Dean doesn’t hide much. He isn’t concerned about getting along with anybody. He knows he’s right. When you’re right other people have to worry about getting along with you.
We reviewed my day again, me underscoring events that had attracted my attention. “You see how I came to that conclusion? Even the criminals are too civilized to hurt somebody. If they’re actually criminals.”
Intriguing. It might be interesting to explore a system of thought that is, indeed, that alien.
“I set it up so we’ll all get together here in the morning.”
He will not come.
I didn’t think he would, either. But I could hope.
“Where’s the Goddamn Parrot?”
In transit here as we converse. The watch on the genuine Bic Gonlit has not been particularly productive. However, Mr. Gonlit did meet with Reliance’s people. He has not given up on collecting the bounty on Miss Pular. He did have a prolonged argument with the ratmen concerning his fee. He took the not unreasonable position that he ought to be paid because what he had been hired to do was to find her. Which he did. But now they insist that he has to get her out of this house, away from you, and deliver her to them. Mr. Gonlit then argued that they were destroying their own credibility by changing the terms of a contract while that contract was in force and that that could not help but come back to haunt them. They would not listen. They seem to have an exaggerated and irrational fear of your prowess as a street fighter. I suppose it is possible that they have confused you with someone else.
“That must be it. I sure never worried anybody before. Now what’s going on?” The pixies out front were acting up.
Mr. Big has arrived. But take your time letting him in. There are watchers. They do not need to know that we are aware of the bird when it is out of our sight.
“Watchers? Reliance’s people or Relway’s?”
Both of those and possibly more.
“More? Who?”
I believe Colonel Block mentioned a strong interest on the Hill.