Old Tin Sorrows

by Glen Cook

  “You could’ve been killed.”

  “I could have. But I wasn’t. Too light on my feet.”

  Kaid said, “Somebody tried to kill you, boy,” as he staggered past with a five-gallon bucket.

  I looked at the growing inferno. That hadn’t occurred to me, though it should have.

  No. You don’t kill somebody by setting a barn on fire. Too easy for him to get away. Maybe you start a fire to flush him out, but . . . That wouldn’t have worked here. Too many witnesses.

  Even in my fuzzy state, it was obvious the arsonist had wanted to get rid of the stable and whatever contents he’d been unable to find during a hasty search.

  Wonderful. Snake’s information had escaped me again.

  Even Cook was out lugging water. But no Peters. I worked up a case of the suspicions before I recalled why he wasn’t around.

  Hell. Saucerhead was overdue. I said, “You guys are wasting your time. Just keep it from jumping to the other buildings.”

  “What the hell you think we’re doing, dipshit?” Chain growled. “If you’re not going to help, get the hell out of the way.”

  Which was just the advice I needed. “I’m going inside to treat these burns.” I had a few but didn’t know how bad they were. Not too bad, I hoped. I didn’t need them distracting me. The cold was bad enough.

  I stumbled away. The others didn’t pay any attention.

  27

  I walked straight through to the front of the house, past the dueling champions and all the dead Stantnors. I’d been in that stable longer than I’d thought. Saucerhead was way overdue unless I’d guessed badly about how long it would take to recruit a doctor and jump a couple of fences through hoops.

  I stepped out the front door. My burns, not bad, made their presence felt. I hoped that doctor would have something for the sting.

  Nothing in sight. “Saucerhead, what’s holding you up? How long does it take to twist a guy’s arm?”

  A few raindrops hit the steps leading to the porch. I glanced at the sky. Old slabs of lead again. I wondered if the Stantnor place ever had any other kind. It was getting to me.

  The wind was rising. That wouldn’t do the firefighters any good. Maybe their best hope was that the rain wouldn’t play around.

  It did become a steady fall. Not quite a downpour, but it should help. I guess that took fifteen minutes to develop. The wind started gusting, throwing water onto the porch. I started to retreat. A coach came out of the rain.

  That damned Saucerhead. Now it was a hired coach.

  It pulled up. People tumbled out. Peters galloped up the steps, followed by a tall, distinguished character whom I presumed to be the doctor. A weasely little character followed him, then Saucerhead and Morley Dotes. I asked Morley, “Where the hell you been? I been trying to find you all morning.”

  He gave me a funny look. “Home taking care of business.”

  Saucerhead interrupted, “Let’s do it, Garret. This here is Doc Stones.” He indicated the weasely guy. Which goes to show you what it’s worth, judging by appearances. “He’ll get an arm and leg off you for this. That’s your fence there. We got an agreement. No names.”

  “Fine with me. As long as he points a finger. Peters. Let’s get upstairs.”

  Peters wore a puzzled look. “What’s happening?”

  “Somebody tried to burn the stable down. With me inside. Let’s go. Doc, you got anything to take the sting out of burns?”

  We moved inside as I asked. Saucerhead asked me, “You want to give him the other arm and leg?”

  “What took you so damned long, anyway?” Peters led the way, headed for the stairs.

  “Morley. He fooled around finding a doc he thought would look like a fence’s partner.”

  That made sense. “Yeah. I guess I can appreciate that. Morley, I thought you were going to prowl around the house, do the stuff I don’t have time to do because I’ve got to be on stage all the time.”

  He looked at me funny again, like I was maybe talking too much. So did Peters. Dotes said, “I did what I could, Garrett. But I have a business to run and not a whole lot of time to spend working on the cuff.”

  “But I heard you come in and go out a couple times.”

  He stopped. “I roamed around an hour after you hit the sack, didn’t find squat, decided I better get back and see if Wedge had robbed me while my back was turned. I didn’t go back to your room.”

  I shuddered. The old cold rats pranced up and down my back. “You didn’t?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, my. But I’d swear I even saw you once.”

  “It wasn’t me.”

  I was sure. I’d gotten up to use the chamberpot. I’d even grumbled a hello and gotten something growled in return. I told him that.

  “It wasn’t me, Garrett. I went home.” Dotes said it in a flat, disturbed voice.

  “I’ll take your word for it.” My voice was just as flat. “So who was it?”

  “Shape-changer?”

  I’d run into one of those before. I didn’t want to do that again. “How? Changers have to kill the people they mimic. Then they absorb their souls, or whatever. And even then they can’t always fool people who knew them.”

  “Yes. And this one had me pat?”

  “I was pretty damned tired. There was only one lamp burning. And I just walked through, not paying that much attention. But I’d have sworn it was you.”

  “I don’t like this. It makes me nervous, Garrett. Real nervous.”

  Me too, yeah boy. All we needed was some villain prancing around able to pretend he was somebody else. That would complicate things real good.

  Morley was just concerned about Morley Dotes, not everything else. He had troubles enough in life without having somebody else running around doing dirty deeds in his name and face.

  I had a broader perspective on it. If somebody here could fake Morley, he could fake me or anybody else, any time. So none of us could ever be sure who we were dealing with. Which undermined the roots of reality. Some fun coming up.

  Morley suggested, “You’d better get out while you still can.”

  I was tempted. Tempted like I’ve never been tempted before. But, “I can’t. I took the job. If I quit because it’s getting tough, it won’t be that long before I find some good reason to drop another one. That happens a couple times and I won’t get work at all.”

  He politely refrained from mentioning the fact that I spend most of my energy avoiding work. “Figured you’d say something like that. So. Let’s get on with it. I want out of here even if you don’t.” He started up the final flight of stairs. “You drink much milk, Garrett?”

  “No. Beer.”

  “I sort of figured.”

  “Why?” The others watched us like we were a road show.

  “Not sure what it is about milk. But it’s good for the teeth and bones and brain. A man who drinks milk always has a healthy sense of self-preservation. Beer guzzlers get increasingly feeble in that area.”

  He was dressing up a cautionary message as one of his crackpot dietary theories. That way it was easier to tell me he was afraid I was in way over my head.

  Peters said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Garrett. I don’t much care. But I do think we ought to get on with it.” He stared at the glass at the rear of the house. The glow from the burning stable shone through. He looked like he wanted to rush off and get involved.

  “Right. Go get the old man set.” I stared at the firelight while the rest moved toward the General’s suite.

  “Garrett!”

  “Coming.”

  I caught a glimpse of the blonde across the way, behind a pillar. She smiled and looked like she might wave back if I started it.

  I growled and headed down the hall.

  Her portrait was one I’d saved from the flames. I’d bring it in and ask some questions. And I was, by damn, going to get some answers.

  I was getting tired of being nice.

  28
>
  Peters moved on into the deeps of the old man’s suite. The rest of us waited in the study. I killed time by tossing logs on the fire and exchanging puzzled glances with Morley. Each of us wondered how much the other was pulling his leg.

  The General arrived, bundled as though for an expedition to the Arctic. He looked at the fire, at me stirring it around so I could get a few more logs on, beamed approval. “Thank you, Mr. Garrett. Thoughtful of you.” He surveyed the crowd. “Who are these people?”

  “Mr. Morley Dotes, restaurateur and an associate of mine.” Morley gave him a nod.

  “Indeed?” The old man seemed startled, like maybe he knew the name. He looked at me hard, reconsidering his estimate of me.

  I said, “You’ve met Mr. Tharpe. The other gentlemen prefer to remain anonymous, but they’ve agreed to point out your thief.”

  “Oh.” A hollow sound, that. Faced by the imminence, he wasn’t that anxious to know. I recalled his instructions: don’t let him evade the truth. He asked, “Where are the others?”

  I told Peters to get them. He didn’t move till the General agreed. I said, “They’re out trying to contain a fire somebody set in the stable.”

  “A fire? Arson?” He was confused.

  The doc and Morley studied him intently.

  “Yes, sir. Near as I can figure, whoever killed Bradon was afraid something in the stable could connect him with the murder. The place had been searched. Whoever did it probably thought he didn’t have time to do it right so he took second best.”

  “Oh.” Again that hollow sound.

  I walked over to the door, peeked out. Nothing out there. “Saucerhead, want to warn us when the mob comes?”

  He grunted, came over. I whispered, “Did you rehearse those two?”

  He grunted again. He didn’t have time to explain. I had to trust his judgment. “General, shall I take the position I did last time? Mr. Tharpe and Mr. Dotes can hold the door.”

  “I suppose. I suppose.” As the fire grew and threw more light, I saw that his color was as bad as it had been the other day.

  I took my place. A few minutes later Saucerhead announced, “People coming.”

  “Let them in but don’t let them back out.”

  “Check.”

  The doctor retreated into a corner. So did the fence. Morley moved to the side of the door opposite Saucerhead.

  They came in looking tired and wary and dispirited. They looked at Morley and Saucerhead like they all thought they’d been caught doing something. Even Peters, and he knew what was happening.

  The General said, “Mr. Garrett has some news.”

  Mr. Garrett looked at the fence. So did Mr. Tharpe, glowering like the man wouldn’t get out of the house alive if he didn’t point a finger.

  He didn’t have to. The bad boy gave himself away.

  I said, “Somebody’s been stealing doodads from around here, about twenty thousand marks’ worth. The General wanted to know who. Now we know that, Dellwood. I’m curious why.”

  He took it pretty well. Maybe he’d figured that being found out was inevitable. “To meet household expenses. There was no other way to raise the money.”

  The General sputtered through a bad case of not wanting to face the truth. He ranted. His people kept blank faces but I got the feeling their sympathies didn’t lie with their employer.

  For one second I entertained the possibility that they all wanted to do him in.

  Dellwood persisted, “The General provides funds suitable for maintaining a household of ten at the time he left for the Cantard. He won’t believe that prices have risen since then. Not one copper has gone into my pocket. Not one has been spent needlessly. Our suppliers refused to extend further credit.”

  Must be hell to be rich and broke.

  The General managed, “You might have told me instead of subjecting me to this humiliation.”

  “I told you repeatedly, sir. For two years I told you. You had your eyes firmly fixed on the past. You refused to believe that times have changed. I had the choice of doing what I did or allowing you to be hounded by creditors. I chose to shield you. I’ll collect my things now.” He turned to the door.

  Saucerhead and Morley blocked his way. I asked, “General?”

  The old man didn’t say anything.

  “For what it’s worth, sir, I believe he’s telling the truth.”

  “Are you calling me a miser?”

  “I said nothing of the sort. But you do have that reputation.” I was piqued. I’ve never gone out of my way to cuddle up to a client—of the male persuasion, anyway.

  He sputtered some more.

  Then he had one of his fits.

  For a moment I thought it was a ploy. The others did, too. Maybe he’d cried wolf a few times. Everybody just looked till it was over. Then they all moved in, tripping over each other. I gave Saucerhead the signal to turn the fence loose.

  Dellwood led the charge. Nobody hung back. Which did not bode well for my hope that breaking one of the cases within the case would start everything unravelling.

  “Back off,” I told them. “Give him some air.” He was past the worst. “Saucerhead, let Dellwood go, too.”

  Dellwood managed his exit with considerable dignity. I reflected on the fact that my pay, and Saucerhead’s, and everyone else’s, was likely being financed by his efforts. I glanced at Cook. She’d told me the old man didn’t have a pot to pee in. Here he was, living on his principal without even realizing it.

  Was some other helpful soul trying to salvage the estate by hurrying an incompetent, tightwad manager to his reward?

  The General got himself under control. “I shan’t thank you for what you’ve done, Mr. Garrett, though I asked for it. Dellwood. Where’s Dellwood?”

  “He’s gone, sir.”

  “Get him back. He can’t leave. What’ll I do without him?”

  “I have no thoughts on the subject, General. I think we’ve accomplished all we can here.”

  “Good. Yes. You’re right. Leave me. But get Dellwood back here.”

  “Everybody out. Peters, you’d better stay. Kaid? Morley, Saucerhead, I want to talk to you.” I scooted out first.

  29

  I caught Dellwood in his quarters. He hadn’t bothered to close his door. He was stuffing things into bags. “Come to make sure I don’t take the family jewels?”

  “I came to tell you the old man wants you to stay.”

  “I’ve spent most of my life attending his wants. Enough is enough. It’ll be a relief being my own man.” He lied. “A man’s loyalty will only stretch so far.”

  “You’re upset. You did what you had to do and it brought you trouble. Nobody holds it against you. Not even me.”

  “Bull. He’ll hold it against me the rest of his life. That’s the kind of man he is. Whatever my reasons, I rubbed his nose in something. He doesn’t forgive, no matter who was right.”

  “But—”

  “I know him. Give me credit for that.”

  I did. “You walk, you lose everything.”

  “The bequest never meant much to me. I’m not poor, Mr. Garrett. I had few expenses while I was in service. I saved my money and I invested it well. I don’t need his bequest to survive.”

  “Your choice.” I didn’t move.

  He stopped throwing things into bags and looked at me. “What?”

  “The General didn’t just hire me to find out who was kyping the family trophies. He also wanted me to find out who’s trying to kill him.”

  He sneered. “Kill him? Nobody’s trying to kill him. That’s just his imagination at work.”

  “So was theft when I arrived. Except to you. He was right about that and I think he’s right about this.”

  “Bull. Who’d profit?”

  “Good question. I don’t think the estate has anything to do with it. I can’t supply another motive, though. Yet.” I looked at him expectantly. He didn’t say anything.

  “Any friction with anybody? Any time
, ever?”

  “I can’t give you what you want, Mr. Garrett. We’ve all had our troubles with the General—none of them the kind you kill over. Matters of discipline, that’s all.”

  “None of these people are inclined to hold grudges?”

  “Chain. He’s a big, stupid farm boy gone to fat at the hips and between the ears. He can hold a grudge forever, but he’s never had one against the General. If you’ll excuse me, sir?”

  “Not yet. You’ve known this moment was coming since I got here, haven’t you?”

  “I wasn’t surprised you found me out. I was startled that you found the man who bought from me. Will that be all?”

  “No. Who killed Hawkes and Snake?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I expect you’ll find out. You’re a first-class finder-outer.”

  “It’s what I do. You didn’t perchance try to discourage me when you decided I could cause you trouble, did you?”

  “Sir?”

  “There have been three attempts on my life since I arrived. I wondered if you’d thought you could cover your tracks—”

  “That’s not my way. I made it through a Marine career without killing anyone. I have no intention of starting now. I told you, I have nothing to lose here.”

  Maybe. And maybe he was just a convincing liar.

  I shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you did wrong and I don’t feel that proud of rooting you out.”

  “I bear you no ill will. You were only the agency by which the inevitable arrived. But I would like to get on the road before dark.”

  “You won’t reconsider? I don’t think the old man will last without you.”

  “Kaid can handle him. He should’ve been all along, anyway.”

  “Do you know who the blonde woman is?” He had nothing to lose by telling me now.

  “A figment of your imagination, I suspect. There’s no blonde woman here. No one but you has seen her.”

  “Bradon did. He painted her portrait.”

  That stopped him cold. “He did?”

  “He did.”

  He believed me. He didn’t get much push behind his “Snake was crazy.”