Read Dread Brass Shadows Online

Authors: Glen Cook

Dread Brass Shadows (10 page)

So do I. I made an unnecessary crack about, well, if you’ve taken a look at your average dwarf woman . . . He shut me up with a scowl.

“They can’t resist, Mr. Garrett—if you give them half a chance to convince themselves that they won’t get found out. They can be as vulnerable as priests that way. In the area around Dwarf Fort there are half a dozen very discreet and exclusive hook shops catering to dwarves. They are quite successful enterprises.”

Which meant they were pouring gold into Chodo’s pockets. I wondered if he was trying to tell me something. Probably not. He isn’t one to talk around the edges of something—unless he’s handing you a gentle admonition concerning a possible catastrophic decline in the state of your health. “You make anything of the book angle?”

“They would get excited if someone got hold of one of their books of secrets. But that can’t be done.”

Such a flat statement. He’d tried. I flashed on what the Dead Man had said. Damn, I shouldn’t have gotten him thinking about books.

He said, “There’s no way to get enough leverage on a dwarf to make him turn over any secret. Those people are perfectly content to die first.”

“How about a thief?” Maybe I could nudge this into safer channels.

“Their books are too well guarded to be reached.” Again that flatness. He knew whereof he spoke. “That enclave is a puzzle box, a series of fortresses going inward. You need a guide to get through it. The army, backed by every wizard off the Hill, couldn’t take the place fast enough to keep them from destroying whatever they don’t want to get out.”

“It was a notion. I thought it might explain what’s been happening.”

“What’s going on is something else entirely. You tell me your young lady is alive and mending. Does that mean you’re out of it?”

I answered honestly. “I don’t know where I stand. Every time I decide I don’t have any stake, something happens. Those dwarves Sadler and Crask ran off. They were out to get rid of me. It can’t be sound business practice to let people get away with something like that.”

He looked at me in a way that told me he knew I was holding out, but he said only, “That’s true, Mr. Garrett. A first principle. Don’t let anyone get away with muscling you. For the moment, let me counsel patience. Let me put my eyes out. These people have dragged me into their affairs. Someone beholden to me will know something about them. It’s impossible for those people to exist in the cracks without being noticed. My people will catch some of them and ask questions. If I learn anything of interest to you, I’ll inform you immediately.”

“Thank you.” I couldn’t tell him to get out of my face, go home, I didn’t need him stomping around in my life. Even if I’d wanted to.

“I’m going to have Mr. Sadler set up headquarters here so my people have a central reporting site.” He meant the Joy House. That would thrill Morley all to hell. It would shoot the guts out of his business.

Chodo read that thought in my face. He’s good at reading people. “Mr. Dotes won’t lose because of it.”

“I don’t know how to thank you, Mr. Contague.” I managed to keep sarcasm from creeping in. Dean and the Dead Man would have been amazed. They don’t think I can do that.

“Don’t thank me. You’ve done me numerous good turns. This may be my chance to pay some back. Maybe to lay a little good karma on my soul.”

Another surprise. That old boy is full of them. I thanked him again, climbed out of the coach. It rolled away immediately. Most of Chodo’s bodyguards went with it.

 

 

16

 

Morley’s place was deserted. I stepped into half the usual light and none of the usual uproar. I looked across the desert at Puddle, behind the serving counter, polishing glassware. “What the hell?”

“Not open tonight, buddy. Come back some other time.”

“Hey! It’s me. Garrett.”

He squinted. Maybe his eyes weren’t so good anymore. He was going to flab fast, but that didn’t keep him from being a bad man. “Oh. Yeah. Maybe I ought to say we’re double not open for you, pal. But it’s too late. You done got Morley dragged in.”

“Where is everybody?”

“Morley shut the place down. You think anybody’s going to come in here with that circus parked out front?”

“He here?”

“Nope.” He didn’t volunteer any information. Most of Morley’s people think I take advantage of his good nature. They’re wrong. He doesn’t have a good nature. And he owes me for a couple stunts he pulled on me back when he was hooked on gambling and he had to cut things fine to keep from taking that long swim in the river. “What you want him for?”

“Just talk.”

“Right.” His tone said I was full of it.

“He leave any word for me?”

“Yeah. Have a beer. Hang in there till he gets back.”

“Beer?” Morley never has anything drinkable around except a little brandy upstairs for special guests of the female persuasion. The kind that always scurry for cover when I show up, afraid I work for their husbands.

Puddle swung a pony keg onto the bar, grabbed the biggest mug he had, drew me one. I arrived as he topped it off. I noted that the keg had been tapped already. I noted that Puddle had brew breath. I grinned. Another of Morley’s bunch who didn’t share his boss’s religion. Puddle pretended he didn’t know why I was showing my teeth.

“Seen Saucerhead?”

“Nope.”

“Morley supposed to be back soon?”

“I don’t know.”

“Know where he went?”

He shook his head, Probably afraid he was going to get a sore throat with all this yammer. A real heavyweight conversationalist, Puddle. Always ready with a lightning riposte. Rather than subject myself to any more abuse, I went to work on my beer.

It went down smooth. Almost too smooth. I let him draw me another and finished half before I thought about all I’d put away already today. Where was the point of the running if I was going to fix myself up to look like Puddle anyway?

“You got anything back there ready to eat?”

A big, wicked grin grew on Puddle’s homely face. Before he turned toward the kitchen, I was sorry I’d asked. He was about to make me pay for my sins.

He came back with something cold smeared on a bed of soggy noodles. “Chef’s surprise.” It looked like death and didn’t taste much better.

“Now I know why all those breeds are so damned mean. Can’t help it, eating like this.”

Puddle chuckled, pleased with himself.

I ate. To get through a mess like that, all I have to do is recall what I’d had to eat as a Marine. I could dig in and feel pampered.

Saucerhead ambled in. “Where you been, Garrett?” I filled him in.

“I heard about Squirrel. Can’t figure it.”

“What about the redhead?”

He frowned. “She went home meek. And disappeared.” He shook his head. “Went in the place where she stayed. Wanted to ask her a question. I looked all over. She wasn’t in there no more. And I know she never come out. Only two people ever did and she wasn’t one of them. And she never came back.” He shrugged and forgot it. Not his problem anymore. “They tried to ice you, eh?”

“Yeah.”

He sighed. “Hey. Puddle. Whup me up a double load of whatever this glop is Garrett’s got.” He asked me, “Where’s Morley?”

“I don’t know. Puddle ain’t saying.”

“Hmm. Chodo’s in it now. Account of Squirrel. What you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I have a couple grudges. And like Chodo told me, letting them slide isn’t good for business.”

“You think that Winger smoked Squirrel?”

“Maybe. I think Chodo’s going to find out.”

“Pretty pissed, eh?”

“Yeah. Probably hasn’t had a good excuse to off somebody for days.”

Saucerhead drank about a quart of beer, inhaled the food Puddle brought him, shoved back, and said, “Well, it’s been an interesting day I got to get on home. Got a little gal waiting.” Off he went.

I sat quietly for a while. It got dark outside. I waited some more. I asked Puddle, “You sure Morley didn’t say when he’d be back?”

“Nope.”

Puddle seemed to be the only body in the place. Where were all the help? Where was Sadler, who was supposed to set up his headquarters? Where the hell was Morley Dotes?

I waited some more. Then I waited some. And when I didn’t have anything else to do, I waited. Then I got up and said, “I’m going home.”

“See ya.” Puddle grinned me out the door. He locked it behind me in case I had a change of heart.

The morCartha were zooming around, trying to undress the night. I recalled Dean saying we were going to have cobbler for dessert. I cussed. I’d eaten that sludge at Morley’s place and now I wouldn’t have room for decent cooking.

Story of my life.

 

 

17

 

I almost made it home without getting distracted.

I’d just crossed Wizard’s Reach. I was beginning to feel optimistic. I’d decided I was going to wrap myself around another gallon of beer, then throw myself in bed and sleep till noon. The hell with running and everything else. I justified future loafing the old-fashioned way. I told me I’d earned it.

Somebody hissed at me from the shadows beside a neighbor’s stoop.

I took a deep breath, sighed, looked for signs of trouble, looked at that shadow, didn’t go any closer. I couldn’t make out whoever was there. Mama Garrett didn’t raise many fools who lived to be thirty. I didn’t go over there. “Come out, come out, whoever you are. Allee allee in free.”

“I can’t. They might be watching.”

“Too bad.” Very too bad.

My mood had plunged. I didn’t bother asking who might be watching.

The voice sounded a tad familiar. I couldn’t place it, though.

I laid a hand on my belt. No headknocker. Still down somewhere near Dwarf Fort. I resumed walking, wondering if I’d see that billy again. I wasn’t ready to go looking. Too many dwarves down there and I can’t tell one from another. I don’t think they’d accept a kill-them-all-and-let-the-gods-sort-them-out approach.

My egg might be scrambled some but it does me just fine, thank you.

The dark behind me moaned. Feet pitty-patted toward me, I eyed the house, wondered if I’d have time to get Dean’s attention before somebody did something unpleasant and maybe left the old boy a mess to clean up.

That’s the power of positive thinking there After having had my head redesigned—it was throbbing and pounding—I saw no dawn on any horizon Funny how one little thing can cause your mood to change so fast.

I sidestepped, dropped into a crouch, and came around with a fist meant to drive right through somebody’s ribs and let me get hold of his backbone from the front. Then, if I was feeling mean, I’d shake him till his ears fell off

I tried pulling it. I fell on my face, rearranged my nose into an even less appealing mess, and still folded the little darling up around my fist

I got myself up, wobbled around a little, wiped the fuzz out of my eyes. The girl stayed down, holding herself and making strangling noises Hoo, boy. What a lady-killer, Garrett. It wasn’t my week for women. If it kept up, it wasn’t going to be my year.

I felt my nose to see if anything was left Hard to tell from here, but there seemed to he a nub under the ick. It hurt enough to be my nose. I shook some more cobwebs and knelt. “You shouldn’t ought to run up on a guy like that.”

She made noises like she was trying to heave up her stockings. I scooped her up and headed for home, caveman Garrett bringing home the goodies.

She felt like a real treat, curled in my arms. It was hard to tell by eyeball in the available light. Curious morCartha cruised around as I climbed the steps, kicked the door, and hollered They didn’t bother me. I felt the Dead Man touch me, just to make sure it wasn’t somebody trying to get past Dean disguised as a freshly slaughtered side of beef.

Dean opened the door after peeking through the spyhole. He looked at the girl. “Got lucky again, eh?” He stepped aside.

I took her into the small front room, put her down on the daybed “See what you can do while I clean up.” I sketched what had happened. He gave me one of his better looks of exasperation.

“You missed supper.”

“I ate out. At Morley’s. Get a light in here so we can see. I’ll be back in a minute.” I left him and dashed upstairs faster than a wounded snail. After I washed my face and rechecked it for missing parts, I put on clean clothes and scooted downstairs and stuck my head into the Dead Man’s room “Company, Smiley.”

I am aware of that, Garrett. Try to restrain your animal urges. She may be of some help, though I cannot get anything yet. She is too frightened and confused.

“Restrain myself? I’m a paragon of restraint. I’m the guy they invented the word for. I’ve never burned the house down around you.”

It was one of those rare times when he didn’t try to get in the last word Chalk one up in the history books. Might not happen again in my lifetime.
She knows something, Garrett.

Hell. Score one for him. That was worse than one of his standard digs. It was tone rather than words. He was accusing me of goofing off.

I stomped into the small front room.

Dean was bent over the woman, blocking her from view, talking softly. I paused, looked at him with an affection I’d never show to his face. He had been the luckiest find of my life. He did everything around the house that I hated, cooked like an angel, put in absurd hours, and more often than not was as emotionally involved in my cases as I was. I couldn’t ask for much more but maybe a little less lip and a little more enthusiasm about keeping the Dead Man clean.

If he has a failing, it’s his disapproval of my work habits Dean believes in work for its own sake, as a tonic for the soul.

I coughed gently to let him know I was there. He didn’t hear Was he going deaf? Maybe. He had to be pushing seventy, though he wouldn’t admit it.

“How is she, Dean? Settled down any?”

He tossed a glower over his shoulder “Some. No thanks to you.”

“I should let somebody run up on me and maybe change the shape of my head?” I was getting irritable Can’t understand why My face hurt? My head ached? My shoulder throbbed? My legs were cramping from all the walking and running? That’s no excuse I was headed for despair mode, where you keep on fighting the fight but you’ve decided it isn’t worth it You just can’t stop.

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