Bitter Gold Hearts

by Glen Cook

  Something in her tone suggested she was ready to spill family secrets. “Maybe if I didn’t ask certain questions, your mother wouldn’t have to know. As long as the answers don’t have any bearing on what —”

  “I don’t know!” There was agony in that, and a plea for help.

  “Tell me.”

  “Ami... He has to the father of the baby she was carrying.”

  “I’m not surprised to hear that, Amber. I even suspect that your mother already entertains the possibility too.”

  “I guess she would. But even if she did, she wouldn’t understand it.” Pure misery, Amber. This was gnawing her good.

  “It isn’t exactly incest.”

  “It could’ve been.”

  “What? How so?”

  “Ami... She wasn’t a willing partner.”

  “He raped her?” I couldn’t believe Amiranda would have tolerated that from anybody.

  “Yes. No. Not the way you’re thinking. He didn’t hold a knife at her throat. He just... coerced her, I guess. I don’t know how he did it. She never told me about it. Only Karl. But Karl told me. It started when she was thirteen. When you’re that young it’s hard... It’s hard to know what to do.”

  “Not you too?”

  “No. But... But he tried. Twice. When I was four­teen. Almost fifteen. It was hard, Garrett. Maybe a man wouldn’t even understand. The first time I just ran away when I realized what he wanted. The second time he made sure I didn’t have anywhere to run. I... He... He wouldn’t let me alone till I said I was going to tell mother.”

  “And?”

  “He went into a panic. A psychotic panic. That’s why...”

  “Did he threaten you? Physically?”

  She nodded.

  “I see.” I settled back to ruminate. I understood her fears. This didn’t do Karl Senior any good at all. I al­ready had him down as murder suspect number one, but I was still a little nebulous on motive.

  “They were both dumb, Ami and Father. They had to realize it would happen sooner or later. There’s too much free-floating residual energy around any place used by someone like my mother not to interfere with the spells on a contraceptive amulet.”

  “If she could see it coming —”

  “Don’t start, Garrett. You don’t know what it was like. You aren’t a woman. You aren’t a daughter. And you’ve never been in a squeeze anything like it.”

  “You’re right. All right, here’s what I’ll do. I’ll talk to him without your mother being there. If it’s not germane, she won’t have to know.”

  “She won’t allow that.”

  “I’ll insist. I’ll also insist that you be there with us.”

  “Oh! Do I have to?”

  “I want him in a corner so tight he’s got to think his only way out is the truth. He can’t lie with you standing there ready to blurt, ‘Remember the time when you —’ “

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I. But you have to use the tools at hand.”

  “He couldn’t do something like you’re thinking.”

  ‘“Amiranda would’ve begun to show soon. Your mother is inquisitive. And when she asks, she gets answers. How would she have reacted —”

  “I know what you’re going to say, Garrett. He’d panic. He’d go crazy out of fear. But not that crazy.”

  “Maybe you’re right. If we get him deep enough into that corner, maybe we’ll find out for sure.” It seemed a good idea to forget that the Stormwarden had discovered Amiranda’s pregnancy on her own.

  “Garrett. Do we have time...?”

  I shook my head slowly.

  “It’s a pity, really.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  As we started down the stairs, she said, “I’ll bet you he doesn’t even know she was pregnant. Ami wouldn’t have told anybody but Karl.”

  I responded with a noncommittal grunt. He knew now, though I was willing to grant the possibility that he hadn’t known then. I paused to stick my head into the Dead Man’s room. “We’re going now.”

  Take care of yourself, Garrett. And mind your manners with your betters.

  “The same to you, Chuckles. Want to tell me Glory Mooncalled’s secret now? Just in case the worst happens? I’d hate to check out still mystified.”

  With you entering a Stormwarden’s lair? No. We’ll con­sider it after this is done and the break is complete. He had a point. I gave Dean some unnecessary instructions about lock­ing up behind me. Then we left.

  __XLVIII__

  I decided TO make a brief detour to Lettie Faren’s. Maybe it was wrong. There are times when ignorance is bliss. The man on the door knew me and knew my presence was considered undesirable, but he made only a token effort to keep us out. Inside, Amber gawked and whis­pered that she wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it. I gawked myself, but not for the same reasons. The place wasn’t open for business. Never, to my knowledge, had the house been closed before. Alarmed, I pushed past a barman and a swamper who made half­hearted efforts to stop us. I slammed into the pest hole Lettie calls home.

  It only took one look. “Stay out there,” I instructed Amber.

  The mound of ruin that was Lettie Faren tried to glare with eyes blackened and swollen, and failed. She couldn’t strike the spark. What remained was a feeble mask for fear.

  I asked, “Chodo’s boys?”

  She croaked an affirmative.

  “You should’ve told me where to find Donni when you knew, before the hard boys decided they wanted her too.”

  She just looked at me. Chances were she’d just looked at Chodo’s boys too. For a while. She was damned near as tough as she thought.

  “I’m working for Raver Styx these days. That’s a tight crack to get caught in, between the Stormwarden and the kingpin.”

  “I didn’t have nothing to tell them and I don’t got nothing to tell you, Garrett. Bring on the old witch if you want.”

  “The wicked flee when no man pursueth. I’ll wish you a speedy recovery. Good-bye.”

  As we headed for the exit, Amber asked, “Why didn’t you want me to go in there?”

  I gave it to her straight. “I’m not the only one looking for Donni Pell. Those other guys beat her up trying to find out where Donni went.”

  “Bad?”

  “Very. They aren’t nice people. In fact, I’m about convinced that you’re the only nice person anywhere in this mess.”

  She laughed nervously and said, “You don’t know me very well yet.” Then, conversationally, “You’re not so bad yourself, Garrett.”

  Perhaps she didn’t know me very well yet either.

  __XLIX__

  The man at the Stormwarden’s gate was a stranger. He had a competent, professional look. “How was the vacation in the sunny Cantard?”

  It bounced off. “Grim as usual, Mr. Garrett. The Stormwarden is expecting you and is waiting in her audi­ence room. Miss daPena can show you the way.”

  “Yeah. Thanks. You guys going to do anything for Slauce?”

  “Say what?”

  “You going in on flowers or anything? I thought I’d kick in if I could. It never would’ve happened if he hadn’t been coming to see me.”

  “We haven’t decided what to do yet. We’ll let you know. All right?”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  When we were out of earshot, Amber said, “See? I told you you weren’t all bad.”

  “A cynical, manipulative gesture meant to incite a sympathetic attitude among the troops.”

  “Right, Garrett. Whatever you say.”

  Raver Styx sat alone in the gloom of an unlighted room about the size of the Dead Man’s. Her eyes were closed. She was so still and unresponsive I suffered a chill. Had we lost yet another daPena?

  No. Those supposedly terrible eyes opened and fixed on me. I saw nothing but a tired and beaten old lady. “Please have a seat, Mr. Garrett.” Like a wolfman under a full moon, she began to change. “Amber, I believe you’d do better
to isolate yourself here in the house, but if you feel more confident with Mr. Garrett and his associates, you have my blessing,” She was becoming the Stormwarden Raver Styx — with a measure of concerned mother. Amber was within reach and my feet were out of the Stormwarden’s line of sight. I nudged her ankle. She started, figured it out, said, “Thank you, Mother. I’d feel better with Mr. Garrett, I think. For now.”

  That wasn’t so hard. Often all we need to be civil with one another is the presence of a referee we don’t want thinking us fools.

  “As you wish. Where would you like to begin, Mr. Garrett?”

  “With Domina Dount.”

  “Willa Dount, Mr. Garrett. Loss of her position and title is a foregone penalty. Let’s not extend any false hopes.”

  “You’re the boss. Whatever, I want to do her first. Then your husband. Then the staff — if that appears productive.”

  “Wouldn’t it be a bit trifling?”

  “Maybe. But a few trifles are all I need to fill the gaps in the picture I already have.”

  “I’m tempted to invoke penalties on the lot and let the gods distinguish between the wicked and the merely incompetent.”

  Sometimes I felt that way about our ruling class. I observed the Dead Man’s advice, though, and kept my opinion to myself. “I know what you mean.”

  “How do you want to work it? In my presence? In Amber’s?”

  “In Willa Dount’s case, with you present and Amber absent. To begin. I’ve already told Amber how long to stay away. After she comes in, I want you to find a reason to leave. Having dealt with Willa Dount, I doubt the footwork will do any good, but I want to try.”

  “Very well.”

  “I’ll want to see all the documents she has. Especially the letters from the kidnappers. Have you seen those?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “Did you recognize the hand?”

  “No. It seemed feminine.”

  “I thought so, too. So precise, what I saw. I feared the one-in-a-thousand chance that Amiranda had written them.”

  “Amiranda had the penmanship of a drunken troll. There was no reading it, but no mistaking or disguising it, either.”

  “Good. Now, with your husband I’d prefer to begin with you out of the room. As for the staff, I’ll ask you and Amber person by person. If the intimidation factor inherent in your presence is counterproductive —”

  “I understand. Let’s get to it.”

  “Where is Willa Dount now?”

  “In her office, doing the job that will be hers for a few more hours.”

  “Would you get her, Amber? Tell her she needs to bring the documents.”

  “Yes, master.” She gave me a wink that her mother caught.

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d hold off acting against Willa Dount or anyone else for another day, Stormwarden. Tomorrow I want to take everyone on a walk-through of what happened the night of the ransom payoff and the morning of Amiranda’s death.”

  “Is that necessary?”

  “Yes. Absolutely. Afterward there’ll be no lingering doubts.”

  She didn’t press for details, a courtesy I appreciated. Maybe she wasn’t such a bad old gal after all.

  We waited in silence.

  __L__

  Willa dount marched in with a stack of papers. “You sent for me, madam?” She didn’t seem sur­prised to see me — and shouldn’t have since she had her agents among the staff.

  “I’ve hired Mr. Garrett to hunt down the person or people responsible for the deaths of Amiranda, Karl, and Courter Slauce. He wants to ask you questions, Willa. Answer completely and truthfully.”

  I raised the eyebrow. Slauce too? Surprise, surprise. But certainly a point for her.

  “Give those papers to Mr. Garrett.”

  She did so with ill grace. “You’re a vulture circling this family, aren’t you? You won’t rest till you’ve picked its bones.”

  “If you take a quick count of the number of noses on your face, you’ll come up with more than the number of times I’ve approached the daPena family soliciting em­ployment.”

  “Your wit hasn’t suffered any improvement.”

  “Willa. Sit down and be quiet. Restrain your preju­dices and speak only when you’re spoken to.”

  “Yes, madam.”

  Did the whip crack there, or did it crack?

  Willa Dount planted herself in a chair, face blank and cool. If she was going to perch I was going to prowl. I rose, began moving, shuffling the papers. The kidnappers had gone to great lengths to make sure Domina Dount under­stood exactly what she was supposed to do. 1 slipped a finger behind the letters I’d met already, looked Willa Dount in the eye, and asked, “When did you first suspect that Karl’s kidnapping was contrived?”

  “When Amiranda disappeared. She’d been odd for weeks, and had her head together with Karl for days before he vanished.”

  Lie number one, straight out of the chute? Willa Dount should have been on the road to her payoff appointment before Amiranda made her break. Unless...

  Unless she’d known beforehand what Amiranda planned.

  “When did you begin to suspect the game had become real?”

  “When I reached the place where I was supposed to hand the gold over. Those people weren’t playing. They were deadly real. I’m afraid I almost lost my composure. I’ve never been that afraid.”

  “Describe the people you met there.”

  She frowned. I told her, “I’ve asked you before about the payoff. You wouldn’t talk. It was your right at the time. But not now. So tell me about those people, and about that night.” I thumbed the first letter I hadn’t yet read.

  “There were two closed coaches and at least four peo­ple. Two coachmen of mixed parentage, probably ogre and human. The ugliest man I’ve ever seen. And a fairly attractive young woman. The ugly man was in charge.”

  “You said at least four. What does that mean? Was there somebody else?”

  “There might have been someone inside the woman’s coach. Twice I thought I saw movement in there, but they made me stay on the wagon. I wasn’t close enough to be sure.”

  “Uhm.” I picked a spot near a good light and adjusted a chair. “From the beginning of that night. Every trivial detail.”

  She began. And soon I was hearing what I expected, a tale with no significant deviations from the one Skredli had told me. I lent her both ears and one eye while I skimmed the letters. Then I went over a few again. Then again. And finally I thought I saw what I’d half expected to see, though I’m no expert on forgery. Willa Dount reached her departure from the bridge over Cedar Creek. I didn’t figure anything interesting happened after that. “Hold it there.”

  She stopped dead. And dead is the way I’d describe the voice she’d been using. She’d been under so much strain for so long she had very little fire left.

  “That payoff setup was as queer as a nine-foot pixie. No swap on the spot — though I admit there wasn’t a lot you could do once you got there. You couldn’t run away. But they let you see them. And then they let you go without killing you. Knowing who you worked for. At a time when at least one of them knew there’d be a murder within a few hours.”

  “I can’t explain that, Mr. Garrett. Death is all 1 ex­pected when I realized that Karl wasn’t there.”

  Unless you took out some kind of insurance, I thought. Like maybe not delivering the whole ransom, and, maybe, refusing to let the balance go until you and Karl were safe. Maybe even not knowing where the rest was, or saying you didn’t, so they wouldn’t try anything rough. There was something or you wouldn’t be here now. I thought it but didn’t say it.

  “Did you hear any names mentioned? Did you get a good look at any of them?”

  “No names. There was moonlight. I saw all four well enough to recognize again, though the woman and the ugly man stayed back. I have excellent night vision. Maybe they didn’t realize how clearly I saw them.”

  “Maybe. It probably doesn’t ma
tter now, anyway. They’re all dead but the woman.”

  She just looked at me. You couldn’t crack her with a sledgehammer. I had everything I wanted to get with the Stormwarden watching. I was wondering how 1 could stall just as Am­ber let herself in. Raver Styx made no pretenses and no excuses. She stood and left.

  Amber whispered, “I didn’t find anything in her quar­ters. She doesn’t keep a journal or —”

  “You don’t have to talk behind my back in front of me, Amber. Spit it out.”

  I nodded.

  “The accounts didn’t look jiggered. The silver was sold for anywhere from seven to fifteen percent below mar­ket. I’m not sure, but I’d guess that would be reasonable in the circumstances. Whatever, the price of silver has fallen enough that now the buyers are the losers.”

  That was my Amber, keeping up with the metals mar­ket despite everything.

  “Who did the buying?”

  She handed me a list.

  “Interesting. The top name here, Lyman Gameleon, is down for a hundred twenty thousand at the maximum discount. Gameleon is one of our big-three suspects.”

  Even that didn’t rock Willa Dount. She said only, “It was an emergency and I went where I had to go to get enough gold. The Stormwarden has examined the ac­counts of these transactions and expressed no disapproval.”

  A thought. Maybe even an inspiration. “Do you recall the dates and times of the transactions, Amber?” She had not noted those.

  “No. Should I go get them?”

  Willa Dount said, “That won’t be necessary. I remem­ber.” She rattled off every deal as though she was read­ing from the record. The timing made it conceivable that the deals them­selves had initiated the chain of complications. Or, at least, could have led to intensive recomplication.

  “Did Gameleon know what the gold was for?”

  “Lord Gameleon, Garrett,” Domina scolded.

  “Look, I don’t care if you call him Pinky Porker. Just answer the question.”

  “Yes. He had to be told before he’d deal.”

  I’d already established, to my own satisfaction, a link between Gameleon and Donni Pell. “Was that wise?”