by Glen Cook
Then I lost my mantra and kissed her back. About twenty seconds later she forgot about shivering.
Morley pounded the door. “Hey! Garrett! You going to nap all night?”
I sat up so sudden I made myself dizzy. I felt around. Just Garrett, all by his lonesome. What? I’ve got a vivid imagination and a rich fantasy life, but . . .
“Bring a light in here.”
“What about your booby trap?”
What about it? “It’s not set.”
Morley found me on the edge of the bed draped in a sheet, looking croggled and feeling four times as croggled as I looked. “What happened?”
“You’re not going to believe it.”
He didn’t. “I never left the other room. Well, only long enough to use the pot. Nobody could’ve gotten past. You had a dream.”
Maybe. But, damn! “I could use more dreams like that. If it was. I don’t think so. I’ve never had one like that.”
“Man gets on in years, he starts living his adventures in his head.” He grinned a big one full of pointy elf teeth.
“Let’s don’t start. I’m too flustered to keep up my end. You find anything? What time is it?”
“Yes. Your cloak closet is two thirds as big as it should be. It’s about midnight. The witching hour.”
“I could probably make it through the night without cracks like that.” I got up, dragged the bedclothes with me.
Morley got a funny look, stepped over, picked something up.
It was the red belt my blonde always wore, even in Snake’s painting.
He looked at me. I looked at him. I maybe smiled a little. “Not mine,” I told him.
“Maybe we ought to get the hell out of here, Garrett.”
I pulled my clothes on. I couldn’t think what to say. I agreed, mostly. Finally, I just muttered, “You ever back out on a job once you took it?”
He got him another funny look and said, “Yes. Once.”
I couldn’t picture that. That wasn’t Morley Dotes. He delivered. He wouldn’t back down from the kingpin or from a nest of vampires. I’d seen that with my own eyes. “I don’t believe it. What were you up against? A herd of thunder-lizards?”
“Not exactly.”
He didn’t like talking about his work. I dropped it. “Let’s look at that closet.”
The situation had him more spooked than he let on. He said, “A man hired me without telling me anything about the mark, just where he’d be at a certain time. I had the biggest surprise of my life when I got there.”
I opened the closet door. “All right. I’ll bite.”
“You were the mark.”
I turned slowly. For about ten seconds I had no idea where I stood. Had we reached a moment I’d prayed would never come?
“Easy. That was six months ago. Forget it. I wasn’t going to mention it.”
He wouldn’t have unless he’d gotten so rattled most bets were off. I tried to recall what I’d been working on back then. Nothing significant. One missing person thing that had smelled from the start, but that had petered out when I found the missing guy dead.
“I owe you one.”
“Forget it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“You forget it. Let’s see where the missing space went.” I thought I got it. That missing person thing had smelled because I’d thought there was more to it than the client would admit. She’d seemed vindictive when nothing in her story indicated a reason. Looking for a man she’d claimed was an associate of her late husband.
Pieces toppled into place belatedly. The guy she was looking for could have been blackmailing her over the husband’s demise. She hadn’t needed me once she knew the guy was dead.
The guy might have hired Morley if he’d heard I was after him.
Hell with it. Water under the bridge. Nothing to do with what we were into now.
But I owed Morley. That more than balanced the stunt with the coffin full of vampire.
“On this side,” Morley said.
It was obvious once you knew it was there. On the right the closet was twenty inches smaller than it should be. “Give me the light.”
I examined the wall inside. Nothing out of the way. No door, nothing to release one or open one. “Has to be out there somewhere.”
I went out, examined the wall, looked for some hidden device, cunningly disguised, like those I’d seen before. I didn’t find any such beast.
“I got it,” Morley said.
He tipped a two-foot section of wainscotting outward like a kitchen flour bin. Bam. No sign it was there when it was in place. “Clever,” he said. “Every secret gizmo I ever saw leaves marks on the floor or something if it’s used much.” The section didn’t quite drop to the floor. A leather strap kept it from falling all the way.
We eyed each other. I said, “Well?”
He grinned. “We can either stand here and stare at it or we can do something. I vote we do something.”
“After you, my man.”
“Oh, no. I’m just the hired help. I hand the knight his lance when he’s ready to charge the Black Baron. When I’m in a real helpful mood, I polish a few rust spots off his armor. But I don’t stomp into traps for him.”
“I love you too, boy.” He was right. It was my game to play.
Didn’t hurt to try, though.
I got another lamp, made sure both were full, started to crawl into the opening. “Stay close.”
“Right behind you, boss. All the way.”
“Wait.” I backed out.
“Now what?”
“Equipment.” It seemed like a good time to arm up. Just in case.
Morley watched me ferret stuff out, grinned when he saw the colored bottles. “I wondered if you kept those.”
“Smart man never throws anything away. Might come in handy someday.” Loaded for thunder-lizard, I returned to the passageway. This time I kept going. Morley had less trouble in there, being a foot shorter and a half ton lighter. I kept banging my head. The passage ran straight ahead fifteen feet. It ran under the counter in the dressing room.
We emerged in a two-foot-wide dead space behind the bedroom and dressing room. It was claustrophobic in there. It was dusty and cobwebby, too, and there was nothing to be seen but studs, lathing, and plaster. The wall at my back was identical. It was the wall of the suite next to mine.
There were peepholes. Of course. A couple for the dressing room and three for the bedroom. The thought that I might have been watched left me real uncomfortable.
Morley said, “Here’s how you get out.”
At the end of the dead space, against the wall of the hallway, there was a two-by-two hole in the floor. Wooden rungs were nailed to the studs.
I sneezed ferociously. The dust and my cold were ganging up.
My head hurt from being banged. My skin burns gave me no respite. I had no reason to be amused. I chuckled anyway.
“What?”
“No way I’m going to get past you. You have to go first.”
“Think so?” He ducked into the passageway from my sitting room. “After you, my man.”
“You’re so slick, you’ll slide out of your casket.” I tested the rungs. They were solid.
Ever go down a vertical ladder carrying a live fire? Lucky I’m a paragon of coordination.
The third floor was identical to the fourth except for the cover over the hole opening on the second. “There’s a big open storage loft below here,” I told Morley. And sneezed so hard, I almost killed my lamp. I listened for movement below. Nothing. I lifted the cover. It swung to the side on hinges.
How would we get down? I’d seen no ladders when I’d explored the storage area.
Crafty builders. Right under the hatch was the end of a rack. The shelf supports made neat rungs.
I dropped to the floor. Knowing what to look for, I spotted trapdoors that would take me to every room in the wing.
“Pretty simple,” Morley said. “Think it’s set up for spying or for esca
pes?”
“I think it’s probably for whatever’s to the advantage of the Stantnors. I wonder how it works in the east wing. That layout is different.”
“You’ve already checked this wing, right?”
“Except for the cellar.”
“You didn’t find any place your girlfriend could be hiding?”
“No.”
“You ask the cook about food shortages?”
“No.” I should have. She’d have to eat. I thought of her portrait. I’d better get the paintings into the house tonight.
“Let’s do this systematically. The cellar first, then the other wing. Seems probable the passages there start in the cellar.”
“Yeah.” As I recalled the layout, the walls all sat atop one another from the first floor upward.
We descended to the pantry quietly, listened. Nothing. On to the cellar.
It was your typical earthen floor cellar, deeper than my own, where I have to stoop, but vasty, dark and dusty, a wilderness of stone pillars supporting beams that supported joists. At first it seemed mostly empty and dusty and dry—though dry wasn’t a surprise. The house sat atop a hill. The builders would have arranged good drainage.
As we moved toward the east end we encountered evidence that an earlier regime had maintained a large wine cellar. Only the racks remained.
“Great place to get rid of bodies,” Morley remarked.
“They have their own graveyard for that.”
“Somebody sank a couple, three guys in that swamp.”
He had a point.
We completed a circuit of the east end finding little but the wine racks, broken furniture, and, near the foot of the steps, sausages and stores hanging so mice couldn’t reach them. I sneezed almost continuously.
“That’s the easy half,” Morley said. We started our circuit of the western end.
That end had less to recommend it or make it interesting, except for the supports and plumbing beneath the fountain. Those would have been of interest mainly to a plumber or engineer. There were no entries to hidden passages.
I said, “We just wasted three quarters of an hour.” And sneezed.
“Never a waste when you find something out. Even if it’s negative.”
“That’s my line. You’re supposed to grumble about wasted time.”
He chuckled. “Must be infecting each other. Let’s get out before the spiders gang up.”
I grunted, sneezed. Interesting. The cellar was almost vermin-free. Other than spiders there was very little wildlife. I’d have expected a sizable herd of mice.
I recalled the cats. “Can you smell anything? I’m deaf in the nose here.”
“What am I supposed to smell?”
“Cat shit.”
“What?”
“No mice. If there aren’t any, the cats must be on the job. The only cats I’ve seen are out in the barns. If they’re getting in here, there’s a way into the basement from the outside.”
“Oh.” His eyes got a little bigger. He started watching the edges of the light more closely. There was still a draug around somewhere.
He said, “We’re not going to find anything here. Let’s do the west wing.” He was uncomfortable. Usually he’s cool as a rock. That creepy house really worked on you.
I was about halfway up to the first floor when I caught the end of a cry. “Oh, damn! What now?”
Don’t ever try to run through unfamiliar territory in the dark, even with a lamp. Between us we nearly killed ourselves a half dozen times each before we made it to the great hall.
34
We burst into the light of the hall, where the Stantnors spared no expense on illumination. “What was it?” There was nothing shaking.
“Sounded like it came from here,” Morley said. “Looks like we’re first to arrive.”
“Oh, damn! Not quite. Damn! Damn! Damn!”
Chain had beaten us there. The dragonslayer and his victim had masked him from us at first. He was on the floor, crumpled in a way no man should be. He’d bounced once, some, and had left a big smear. Blood still leaked out of him.
“Looks like he came from the top balcony,” Morley said, with an artisan’s dispassion. “Tried to land on his feet and didn’t quite make it.” He glanced up. “He didn’t jump. And I’d bet you he didn’t trip over the rail. If I was a betting man.”
“Wouldn’t touch the bet at a thousand to one.” The fall wasn’t much more than thirty feet. For Chain it must have seemed like a thousand.
Thirty feet is a bad fall, but people have survived it. If they have themselves under control or they’re lucky. Chain hadn’t been either.
I glimpsed movement on the opposite balcony, whirled. I expected to see my mystery blonde. I saw Jennifer instead, in her nightclothes, at the rail at the end of my hall. She looked down in a sort of daze. She was very pale.
Peters appeared right above us a moment later. “What the hell?” he bellowed, and came bounding downstairs.
“Stay with him,” I told Morley. “I’m going up there.” I indicated Jennifer.
Black Pete galloped up to Morley as I trotted away, mouthing questions too fast for anybody to shove an answer in sideways.
I was puffing my lungs out when I reached Jennifer, swearing that, when this one was over, I was going to work out every day. Right after I spent a week catching up on my sleep.
She was flushed now, so red she looked like she’d run a mile. She snapped, “Where were you? I’ve been trying to wake you up for ten minutes.”
“Huh?”
She stared at the floor, shivering. “You said . . . I thought you wanted me to . . . ”
Hell. I’d forgotten. Damned good thing she hadn’t come earlier. Especially damned good thing I hadn’t given her a key.
Standing there shy and shamefaced and looking vulnerable, in nightclothes that did little to hide the fact that she was one gorgeous hunk of woman, she made me react after all. I got all set to howl at the moon. Only Peters’s chatter downstairs kept my mind on business. Part of my mind on business. A small part of my mind.
“What do you know about this?” I jerked a thumb at Chain.
Her eyes got big. “Nothing.”
“Come on. You had to see or hear something.”
“All right. Don’t bully.” She eased a little closer, still shivering. Business, boy, mind on business. “I sneaked out of my room about thirty minutes ago. When I got to the end of my hall, Chain and Peters were down by the fountain. They were just sitting there. Like they were waiting for something to happen. I couldn’t get to the stairs without them seeing me. So I waited. The more I waited, the more scared I got. I was ready to chicken out when Peters said something to Chain and started upstairs. Chain turned his back, so I hurried up to the fourth floor, before Peters saw me . . .
“Chain must have seen me when I was sneaking toward the loft stair. He yelled. I went up and over. When I got to your side he was on the fourth floor, going into the hall to my father’s suite. I ran down your hall to your door and tried to get you to answer. You didn’t. I kept trying. Then I heard that yell. I didn’t know what to do. I was scared. I tried to hide in the shadows at the end of the hall until I heard your voice.”
“You didn’t see anybody but Peters and Chain?”
“No. I told you.”
“Huh.” I thought a moment. “You’d better get back to your suite. Before anybody else comes out. Peters’s questions will be troublesome enough.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah. Let’s go.” I followed her to the stairs, up to the loft and across. The darkness there didn’t bother her a bit. We parted at the head of the stair to the third-floor balcony. I said, “I’ll come talk to you as soon as we’ve settled things down.”
“All right.” A quavery mouse voice. She was scared as hell. I didn’t blame her. I was scared myself.
Chain was dead. Helped along. My favorite suspect. My almost certain killer. Gone. Out of the picture. Meaning I’d wanted to
nail the wrong hide to the wall. Unless he’d tried to do unto another and got it done to him in self-defense.
I walked along the balcony to the point where, I guessed, he’d gone over. Morley and Peters were quiet now, watching me.
“He got wool pants on?” I asked.
“Yes,” Morley replied.
There were strands of wool on the rail. There were scratches and flecks of skin, too, like he’d tried to grab hold as he’d gone over. Minute scraps of evidence but they made me certain he’d been shoved. I pictured him standing there, looking down, maybe talking to somebody, when he got a sudden boost with barely enough oomph on it. Maybe he’d even needed a little extra help after he’d started going.
Sometimes I suffer too much empathy for men who die untimely deaths. I picture the thing and conjure the feelings they must have felt as the realization hit them. Falling scares hell out of me. I had more than the usual ration of compassion for Chain.
What would it take, about a second of free fall? All of it intense with fear and wild desperation and vain hope, trying to adjust to take the fall and maybe, just maybe, survive?
I shuddered. This one was going to haunt me.
Trying hard not to think about it, I clumped down to the ground floor. I hurt everywhere. I wasn’t in a good mood at all. “What’s your story, Sarge?”
He was taken aback by my intensity. But he excused it. “We were waiting for the draug.” There was a collection of instruments of mayhem lying in the fountain. I hadn’t noticed before. “Kaid and Wayne were going to take the next watch, in about an hour. I had to take a leak. I didn’t want to go outside so I headed for my room.”
“You took a long time taking a leak.”
“Found out I had to do more once I got there. You want to check? It’s still warm.”
“Take his word for it, Garrett.” Morley isn’t your dedicated investigator, willing to stir fouled chamberpots in search of damning evidence. I’m not that devoted myself. Anyway, I believed Peters. He’d have come up with an alibi less dumb if he was going to toss somebody off a balcony.
I was about out of suspects.
Which meant I had to open the whole thing up and suspect everybody again. Even the unlikelies.
