by Mike Resnick
"John Justin, I have a feeling that someone has been filling your head with terrible lies about me,” said Mürgenstürm.
"Somebody's been lying to me, all right,” said Mallory.
"Every word I've told you since we met has been God's own truth!” declared the elf, raising his right hand. “I swear it!"
"Such as not knowing what makes Larkspur so valuable?” asked Mallory.
"Well, almost everything,” amended Mürgenstürm uneasily. “I may have simplified a few concepts here and there for your convenience."
"You little bastard, you've been lying from the word Go!” snapped Mallory. “You told me that we live in the same Manhattan."
"Well, our Manhattans share many things—buildings, streets, parks—"
"They also share a membrane that's in the process of hardening right now!"
"Then you know that Larkspur is dead?” asked Mürgenstürm, startled.
"Of course I know,” said Mallory contemptuously. “Your partner killed him."
"My partner?” asked the elf innocently.
Mallory nodded. “Flypaper Gillespie. He is your partner, isn't he—or at least, he was until a few hours ago?"
"Certainly not!"
"We're not going to get anywhere unless you start telling me the truth."
"I may have said a few words to him,” said Mürgenstürm indignantly, “but we were never partners."
"But he was the person you chose to steal the unicorn?” persisted Mallory.
Mürgenstürm nodded unhappily. “He is the most unethical person I've ever come across!"
Mallory stared at him in amusement. “You know, you're almost as incompetent as you pretend to be."
"I resent that!"
"Resent it all you like,” said Mallory with a shrug. “The fact remains that you blundered practically every step of the way."
"Hah!” said the elf heatedly. “It was a brilliant plan! Positively brilliant! I'd been honing it to perfection for years!"
"Bullshit."
"Well, days, anyway. Ever since my cousin won the national presidency of our guild."
"What does that have to do with anything?” asked Mallory.
"The guild has been entrusted with protecting Larkspur,” explained Mürgenstürm. “The former president lived in Kansas City, and when my cousin won, he transferred Larkspur from Kansas City to New York."
"Why?"
"Larkspur is our most prestigious commission, so naturally the president wants him at his home base."
"So that's how you finagled your way into being allowed to guard him,” said Mallory. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “And you didn't choose that empty lot by accident, did you?"
"No,” admitted the elf. “It's protected by all kinds of spells and charms."
"Including a dandy against the Grundy?” suggested Mallory.
Mürgenstürm nodded. “And a very weak one against leprechauns."
"One that you could somehow counteract or deactivate?"
"Yes."
"So you wanted to steal the ruby,” continued Mallory. “But you couldn't do it by yourself, not when Larkspur was in your charge—there'd be too many difficult questions to answer. Besides, there was probably a spell protecting him against elves."
"A real stinker,” acknowledged Mürgenstürm bitterly. “There was absolutely no way I could break through it."
"So you contacted Gillespie. You told him that you'd find some way to deactivate the spell against leprechauns, and split the profits with him after he stole the unicorn."
"He didn't even know what Larkspur was worth,” said Mürgenstürm. “He was supposed to turn him over to me in exchange for fifty balls of string and a complete run of Playboy,"
"And when he didn't show up, you realized that he had double-crossed you."
"The filthy little leprechaun!"
"You needed help, but you couldn't go to your guild, and you couldn't use a local detective. They'd have spotted the flaws in your story right away.” Mallory stared at him. “So you came to me."
Mürgenstürm nodded unhappily.
"And then we met Felina, and you found out what had happened. Gillespie didn't know what the unicorn was worth, but he knew it had to be pretty valuable for you to put your life on the line, so he went to the one person he was pretty sure would know—the Grundy.” Mallory paused. “The Grundy wanted Larkspur every bit as badly as you did, but the yard was protected against him, so he made the same arrangement with Gillespie: the leprechaun would steal it, and the Grundy would meet him later.” The detective lit another cigarette. “My guess is that Larkspur himself was protected against the Grundy, and that the farther he got from the yard, the less powerful the protection became. That's why the Grundy didn't take him from Gillespie the second he walked out of the yard. Am I right?"
"You're right,” admitted the elf.
"And when the Grundy had the chance to kill us in the museum and didn't take it, you realized that Gillespie had double-crossed him as well, and that he was hoping we might lead him to the ruby."
"You really are a remarkable detective, John Justin,” said Mürgenstürm wearily.
"It's my job,” said Mallory with a shrug. “You didn't really visit a ladyfriend when you left me in Central Park, did you?"
"Briefly,” confessed the elf.
"But then you went looking for Gillespie at the Kringleman Arms."
Mürgenstürm nodded. “He wasn't there."
"He showed up later."
"You actually saw him?” asked Mürgenstürm.
Mallory shook his head. “I missed him by maybe five minutes."
"How do you know you were that close?"
"The coffee in his cup was still warm.” Mallory paused. “That brings us up to the present. Now for the future: when's the auction?"
"How did you know there's going to be an auction?"
"Gillespie doesn't know how to use the stone, and it's too damned dangerous for him to keep with the Grundy and your guild both after it, so I assume he's invited you and the Grundy to bid on it."
"That's why I was looking for you,” admitted Mürgenstürm. “I wanted to make sure you hadn't found it before I wasted my money bidding for something that he didn't have any longer.” He reached into the air and produced a folded piece of notepaper. “Here,” he said, handing it to Mallory.
The detective unfolded it and read it.
AUCTION
The undersigned cordially invites
your participation at an auction for
a gem of rare and wonderful properties.
Time: 3:30 AM
Place: You know where.
—Flypaper Gillespie
Mallory crumpled up the paper and let it roll out of his hand onto the table. Then he looked at his watch.
"Three-thirty,” he said. “That's twenty minutes from now.” He looked across the table at Mürgenstürm. “Do you know where it is?"
The little elf nodded. “Where I was supposed to pick up Larkspur from him.” He looked supplicatingly toward the detective. “I'm afraid to go there alone, John Justin. Will you come with me?"
Mallory smiled grimly.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world,” he said.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 13
3:10 AM-3:43 AM
Mallory and Mürgenstürm walked along the deserted dock area as a lonely foghorn sounded in the distance. A thick blanket of fog had rolled in off the East River, embracing the local waterfront dives and hiding them from view.
"We'd better be getting close,” remarked Mallory, peering through the fog at a cargo ship from Lemuria being pulled by two tiny tugboats. “You've only got about seven minutes left."
"We are,” Mürgenstürm assured him. “It's just a block away.” He looked up at Mallory. “I want you to know how much I appreciate this, John Justin."
"I'm not doing it for you,” replied Mallory.
"But I thought we were friends,” said the l
ittle elf.
"Come off it, you little green wart,” said Mallory. “You've been lying to me and trying to use me from the first minute we met. Hell, the only reason you want me along now is because you're afraid to face the Grundy by yourself."
"That's not true!” protested Mürgenstürm.
"Isn't it?"
"Well, not entirely. I also cherish your companionship.” Mürgenstürm paused and stared up at Mallory. “If you're not doing it for me, why are you here?"
"Two of my friends are missing,” answered Mallory. “I've got a feeling that they'll turn up here."
"Who are they?"
"You wouldn't know them."
"I might,” said the elf. “I know a lot of people."
"Yeah,” said Mallory, “but these two tell the truth. You probably move in different social circles."
"That was unkind, John Justin,” said Mürgenstürm.
"Probably,” agreed the detective with no hint of an apology.
One of the tugboats sounded its foghorn, and a ship of Graustarkian registry, which had loomed up out of the mist, turned hard to starboard to avoid the Lemurian vessel.
"Aren't you frightened?” asked Mürgenstürm.
"Of what?"
"The Grundy, of course!” said the elf incredulously.
"He's not going to kill anyone until he gets his hands on the ruby,” replied Mallory.
"If he wins the auction, he'll have the ruby!"
"I didn't say he wouldn't discourage you from bidding,” noted Mallory dryly. “As for having the ruby, buying it is one thing; getting his hands on it is another."
"What do you mean?"
"You don't think Gillespie will be stupid enough to bring it to the auction, do you? He's going to want to protect himself."
"I suppose so,” said Mürgenstürm. Suddenly his face lit up. “What would you say to a pooling of resources?"
"All but a couple of hundred dollars of my money is worthless here,” Mallory reminded him. “I don't have any resources."
"He won't want money,” explained the elf. “I told you what our original deal was."
"I don't have any string or dirty magazines."
"But you can help me collect them!” urged Mürgenstürm.
Mallory laughed contemptuously. “Do you seriously believe that he's going to let you buy the ruby on credit while the Grundy is sitting right there?"
"Probably not,” admitted Mürgenstürm. His expression hardened. “But I've got to try! At least one thing I told you is true: my guild will kill me for losing Larkspur. I've got to get my hands on that ruby so I can escape to your Manhattan."
"Why not just go now, before the membrane hardens?"
"Because if the Grundy gets it, he'll come after me because of all the trouble I've caused him."
"I can't say that I blame him,” replied Mallory. “You've been a pain in the ass to a lot of people."
"I know,” said Mürgenstürm. “But you don't know what it's like to be an elf!” he added plaintively. “You can rise just so high in the guild, and no higher."
"Like your cousin?” said the detective with a touch of sarcasm.
"That's unfair!"
"But true. Why don't you simply admit that you were looking for a shortcut?"
"I was just trying to improve my station in life!"
"Stupid,” said Mallory, shaking his head. “Just plain stupid."
"I resent that!"
"You think not?” said Mallory. “What the hell would you have done with the stone if this scheme had gone off like clockwork? Use it to move between your Manhattan and mine? You can already do that."
"Sell it,” said Mürgenstürm promptly.
"To the Grundy? You may get your wish."
"To a jeweler in your world. It's the most perfect gem I've ever seen. It's worth millions, John Justin!"
"Jesus!” said Mallory disgustedly. “You were going to take Larkspur's ruby and let some fat New York matron wind up wearing it around her neck without ever knowing what it was?"
A sickly smile spread across Mürgenstürm's face. “You make it sound so ... so crass and unfeeling."
"And what about all the people you've stranded forever?” continued Mallory. “And not just people, either. How many Gnomes of the Subway are going to starve to death because the supply of tokens from my Manhattan is going to dry up?"
"Don't say things like that,” whined the elf. “I was just trying to secure a better life for myself!"
"Well, you seem to have secured a briefer one, anyway,” replied the detective. “I hope you think it was worth it."
They walked another fifty yards in silence. Then Mürgenstürm stopped before a large building that looked out over the docks.
"Well, I'll be damned!” said Mallory, an amused smile on his face. “A genuine old abandoned warehouse!"
"You've heard of it before?” asked Mürgenstürm.
"Heard of what?"
"The Old Abandoned Warehouse,” replied the elf. “That's where we are."
Mallory put his hands on his hips and looked at The Old Abandoned Warehouse. It took up almost a block, and seemed to be made entirely of gray aluminum siding. He could discern only one door, though he assumed that there were numerous truck docks around the corner. There were five windows scattered across the front of the building; four were dark, but there was a diffused yellow light piercing the fog from the fifth.
"You're right on time, Mürgenstürm,” said a deep voice, and Mallory turned to find himself facing a huge, blue-skinned man in a purple sharkskin suit, light blue shirt, violet tie, and navy blue shoes and socks. He stood just under seven feet tall, and weighed in the vicinity of 500 pounds. “Who's this guy with you?"
"His name's Mallory,” said the elf. “He's okay. I vouch for him."
"Who's your friend?” Mallory asked Mürgenstürm.
"The Prince of Whales. He owns the warehouse."
"I thought you were supposed to come alone,” said the Prince of Whales.
"He's my bodyguard,” replied the little elf.
The Prince of Whales glared at Mallory for a moment, then shrugged. “He ain't gonna do you much good against the Grundy. But what the hell—it's no skin off my ass. Go on in."
"Thank you,” said Mürgenstürm.
The elf walked up to the door and opened it, and Mallory followed him into the interior of The Old Abandoned Warehouse. The place was filled with row upon row of free-standing shelving units, each holding treasures stolen from the detective's Manhattan: costume jewelry, old pulp magazines in plastic bags, kitchen appliances, rubber tires, canned dog and cat food, stereo and videotape equipment, furs, and even some stoneware. Where the shelves stopped, the area was cluttered with huge packing cases containing everything from television sets to self-propelled lawn mowers.
Mürgenstürm turned to his right and walked up to the building's office. The blinds were drawn, but Mallory could tell that the light was on, and he assumed it was the same one he had seen from outside.
The little elf opened the door cautiously.
"Hi, partner!” said a high-pitched, smirking voice. “I'm so glad you could make it."
Mallory stepped through the doorway and found himself in a large office, some twenty feet on a side. A number of chairs lined one wall, facing a desk that dominated the other side of the room. Seated behind the desk was a leprechaun.
"Mr. Mallory, I presume?” he said with an unpleasant grin.
"And you must be Flypaper Gillespie,” said Mallory.
Gillespie nodded. “We meet at last."
"Where are my friends?” demanded Mallory.
"I don't know who you're talking about."
"Eohippus and Winnifred Carruthers."
"Never heard of them,” said Gillespie, still grinning.
Mallory walked to the office door.
"Where are you going, Mr. Mallory?” demanded the leprechaun.
"To take a look around."
"For your friends?"
>
"Possibly you overlooked them,” said Mallory with a grim smile.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"Why not?"
"Because it would make me unhappy,” said Gillespie. “I do bad things when I'm unhappy."
"You're breaking my heart,” said Mallory, reaching for the doorknob.
"I meant what I said, Mr. Mallory,” said Gillespie, opening a drawer. He pulled out something familiar and set it atop the desk.
Mallory stared at the tiny figure for a moment.
"Eohippus?” he said at last.
The horse whinnied a weak acknowledgment.
"But you're two inches smaller than you were!” exclaimed Mallory.
"That's because I keep doing this to him,” giggled Gillespie, whacking the horse sharply in the middle of the back with a plastic ruler. “Now get away from the door—or I'll beat your little pet here until he's so small that he vanishes right in front of your eyes."
Mallory glared at the leprechaun, then slowly walked back to the opposite side of the office.
"Where is Colonel Carruthers?” he demanded.
"I don't believe I'm going to tell you,” said Gillespie happily. “When I get tired of whipping the horse, I'm going to start on her."
"Unless I start on you,” said Mallory ominously.
"Lay a finger on me and you'll never see Carruthers again—and nobody will ever see the ruby,” said Gillespie with a confident laugh. He turned to Mürgenstürm. “Well, little green partner, how's life been treating you today?"
"You are a despicable creature!” said Mürgenstürm.
"You ain't seen nothing yet,” said the leprechaun. “Sit down."
"I'd rather stand,” said the elf.
"But I'd rather you didn't,” said Gillespie.
Mürgenstürm sighed and climbed onto a chair.
"You, too,” snapped Gillespie to Mallory.
"No, thanks,” said Mallory, leaning against a wall.
"We'll see about that!” said Gillespie, picking up the plastic ruler again.
"You touch the horse and I'll tear your arm right off your body,” said Mallory softly.
"Hah!” said Gillespie. “You're hardly in a position to tell anyone what to do! You need the ruby worse than any of them!"
