Whispering Nickel Idols gf-11

by Glen Cook

  “People don’t catch on fire, Garrett.” She didn’t sound convinced, though.

  “Check her out. Tell me I’m wrong.” They lifted the woman out of the ice bath. She was unconscious. The crackling didn’t start up again.

  A short man in an apron, with nervous hands, told us, “I was here first. Because she started yelling. She was beating on herself. I thought she’d caught her clothes on fire. I wrapped the wet tablecloths around her.”

  Naturally. No witnesses to how it started. The stoves? It was a kitchen setting up to serve a banquet.

  “Belinda, you got a healer laid on? She’ll need a shit-load of help.”

  The Contagues’ underworld reign is characterized by care for its foot soldiers. Those who keep faith find the Boss looking out for them in the crunch. Chodo understood two-way loyalty instinctively. He took care of his people and they took care of him. Belinda stuck to the precedent.

  She told me, “I’ll have her cared for. What was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “I thought I saw a rat.”

  “You’re in the city now. They haven’t caused any trouble.”

  Belinda kept toward the pie pantry. She wanted to check on her father, but she didn’t want to be seen doing it.

  She eased away. I paid no attention. The burned woman was being stripped. A challenge. Bits of clothing had become embedded in her flesh. The burned fabric seemed to have acted as wicks for burning off body fat.

  Weird. Creepy. Yet the physical evidence couldn’t be denied.

  A couple kittens seemed extremely interested in the burned woman. They kept darting out to sniff her and touch her with their paws.

  Belinda was back. “What do you want to happen here?” I asked. She looked mad enough to chew rocks.

  “Get her over to the Bledsoe? Find out her family situation? I don’t know. Why do I have to worry about this stuff?”

  “Because it’s your party. Because you’re in charge. Because you’re the one who’s going to get blamed.”

  Belinda indulged in a bout of creative linguistics, then demanded, “Why doesn’t somebody do something about the rats?”

  14

  I went back to the main hall. Progress had been made. A couple dozen thugs had accumulated on the safe side of Saucerhead Tharpe. The little fellows had them help set tables.

  My window remained cracked. I went to it. In moments I had a pixie woman ornamenting my shoulder. “What news, Melondie?”

  “There’s something going on, for sure. Your vampire woman may not be the worst schemer.”

  “Oh?”

  “That’s from Singe. She heard it from John Stretch. Who got it from his rats. That’s a long chain full of feeble links.”

  “You’re getting contemplative.”

  “I’m getting worried. Everybody thinks some people might not survive the celebration.”

  “Really?”

  “Would I make this stuff up?”

  “When Belinda’s father took charge he held a do so the differences between neighborhood bosses could be settled. They were. He got rid of underbosses who might cause trouble later. By bashing their heads in with a centaur tribal mace.”

  A minor numbers man called Squint Vrolet approached me. “Who you talking to, Garrett?” He wore the perpetually suspicious expression of a man too dim to grasp the whole picture-though he did manage the numbers on his patch honestly and well.

  He had the territory from his cousin Green Bean Ractic. Green Bean killed two birds with one rockhead. He found a relative a job and he put the patch in the hands of a guy who didn’t have imagination enough to skim.

  Squint Vrolet didn’t even have imagination enough to take advantage of the fact that he was a known gangster.

  “I talk to myself, Squint. Because I know somebody who cares is listening.”

  Squint squinted. It was his signature move. “That’s right. You don’t got that frickin’ parrot no more? Them elves done conned you out of him.”

  “Somebody ran a con on somebody, Squint. So what’s your take on tonight? Is it true, Chodo’s gonna retire and leave everything to his kid?”

  Squint gawked. “I never heard that. Hey! Great to see you, G. But I got to go see a man about a dog.” He headed straight for his cousin Green Bean instead of the garderobes, though.

  Melondie Kadare told me, “That was mean, Garrett.”

  “When he comes to double-check if he heard right, I’ll twist it around.”

  “Why torment him?”

  “I’m not. I’m messing with Green Bean. He’ll be sure Squint heard something important but got it twisted between his ears and his mouth.”

  “That’s still cruel.”

  “Don’t you do that to me?”

  “No.”

  “You sure?”

  “Sure, I’m sure. I can think of more amusing ways to mess with you. One of your sweeties drops by. Say, Tinnie Tate. I slide in and whisper some other honey’s name in the redhead’s ear at just the right time…”

  “That don’t sound like fun.”

  “Not for you. I’d laugh till I puked and my wings fell off. Tinnie’s too good for you, anyway… Whoa! Peace! Just teasing. You’d better mingle. So that something unexpected doesn’t happen.”

  “You might think about getting in the psychic racket.”

  Belinda turned. She’d changed clothes again, to something more businesslike. “I sent that woman to the Bledsoe. Under my name. Would you check on her tomorrow? Make sure they’re really treating her?”

  “Sure.” So she expected me to have a tomorrow. Good to know.

  “What do you think happened?” she asked.

  “I don’t. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “You think there’s something strange going on?”

  “Is that a trick question?”

  “Garrett, don’t do that. I’m not in the mood. I feel this getting out of hand before it even starts.”

  “All right, yes. There’s something strange going on. I just figured you were behind it.”

  “There’re rats everywhere. There weren’t any when I looked at the place. And there’s your kittens. Cute and friendly buggers, but still cats. You shouldn’t have brought them. And, I swear, I even saw pixies from the corner of my eye. Only they weren’t there when I looked.”

  That was the essence of pixie. Delivering more annoyance than a gaggle of mosquitoes.

  “Watch my back, Garrett.”

  “I always do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s a lovely back.”

  “You’re full of shit. But I like it. I think.”

  Moments later, Melondie Kadare sneered, “It’s such a lovely back? Could you be any more lame?”

  “I wasn’t at my best. I was distracted. I had a big-ass bug buzzing in my ear. And a lovely back to contemplate.”

  Miss Kadare bit me on the aforementioned ear. “You’re lucky I’m not your size.”

  15

  The celebration got started. It rolled along just fine. Night fell. Morley’s waitstaff fired the floating wicks of globular little oil lamps at each place at table. They poured wine, TunFaire Gold, the best rotted grape juice in the world. The bad guys settled themselves and sucked it down. They got happier by the minute. The majority seemed amazed to find themselves having a good time. But whenever somebody cracked a dirty punch line the astonishment went away for a minute.

  I was surprised by the number of guests. Not only the underbosses and their lieutenants had shown, but so had Squint Vrolet, Spider Webb, and dozens of other foot soldiers of little consequence.

  No matter. Everyone seemed pleased to honor their empress. The fun grew more exuberant without growing rowdier. Louder without getting physical. Food came. More wine flowed. And a whole orchestra of alarm horns hooted and tooted in the paranoid cellars of my mind.

  Of the gathering I was alone in not swilling wine. I have no taste for spoiled grape. I’m a beer, ale, mead, and st
out man. Though the stout brewers tend to shovel in too much mud.

  A baffled Morley Dotes observed from the door of the passage to the kitchen. More drink than food was coming out now.

  Would tonight turn out like evenings in the old-time valhalls, where the thane’s men drank themselves unconscious and collapsed on the straw-strewn floors? In their own puke. Among the household livestock and table waste.

  No straw here. Darn.

  Up front, Saucerhead and his crew had scorned the demon grape, too.

  My rat and pixie friends did not immediately fall under the influence, either, though not for lack of trying. I heard Melondie Kadare bitching because the biggies were tracking every ounce of TunFaire Gold. The cheap-ass bastards.

  I left my table and drifted over to Morley. “What do you think, old buddy?”

  Dotes murmured, “If you know anything, you’re two legs up on me. It’s like one of those temples where they smoke and drink to get closer to God.”

  “Yeah. They’ll bring out the accordions any minute. Meantime, what the hell is happening?”

  “All I know is, I had to send out for more wine. Look at them. They’re completely messed up.”

  “So the bloodshed we imagined don’t look like it’s going to happen. How are we fixed for Relway alerts?”

  This gathering would be a dream come true for Relway’s crowd. So how come they weren’t all over outside?

  “Don’t worry about them,” Morley said. “Worry about what Belinda still has in her trick sack. All this happy might be part of her scheme.”

  Our hostess was being kittenishly cheerful with the top goombahs-with a kitten in her lap. But… “She hasn’t been drinking.” I nudged a cat away from my foot. “That’s a new shoe, hair ball.” Then, “Think she put something in the wine?”

  “No. I bought it. From vendors she wouldn’t know. It isn’t the wine. If it was that, they’d be cutting each other’s throats.”

  Right. No one was immune, drinking or not. “It’s in the air. The wine just makes it worse.”

  “Picture the possibilities if dancing girls came in.”

  “Put the old emperors to shame. Look. Even Belinda isn’t immune.”

  Miss Contague loosed a blast of cackling laughter. She slapped Rory Sculdyte on the back. Rory bellowed his own hilarity.

  Rory Sculdyte was the man most likely to treat Belinda to a dip in the river wearing iron swimwear. Rory knew in his secret heart that he had been cheated of his birthright when Chodo took over.

  I told Morley, “You better get back to work. ’Cause here she comes.” Morley did. And Belinda did. I told her, “You need to laugh more, woman. You’re more attractive when you laugh.”

  “And when I don’t?”

  “You’re still attractive, he admitted reluctantly because it blunted his point.”

  “Tell me something, old friend. Why am I having fun?”

  “If I knew, I’d get my business partners to come bottle it.”

  “Seriously, Garrett.”

  “Seriously, Contague. Maybe somebody put wormwood in the wine casks. You saying it’s not your fault? Not part of your evil master plan?”

  “I’ll take credit. But I didn’t plan it. No. You know I expected tonight to turn darker. But I can’t go through with it now.”

  “Then get on with the business with your father. Save the bad-girl stuff for when I’m on the other side of town. Work some magic here so you don’t have to do the bad-girl stuff.”

  “What have you been smoking?”

  “I don’t do that. I can dream, can’t I?”

  “Not now. Now I need you wide-awake and alert. I’m going to bring Dad out.”

  16

  Melondie Kadare plopped onto my shoulder. Her aerial navigation was erratic. “You been nipping the Gold, Bug?”

  “Just a little. They’re watching too close. I thought this was supposed to turn into a big brawl.”

  “Everybody did. What’s up?”

  “There’s a situation shaping up outside. Those ugly men who tried to break into our house are prowling around, looking for trouble.”

  “They’re here?” Too many puzzles for one night.

  “Yup.”

  “Why would they want to get into it with this bunch?”

  “Garrett, none of them look smart enough to put on a hat when it rains. They don’t know what’s going on here. They don’t care. They might not care if they did know.” Then she confided, “I think they’re after that girlie boy. That Penny. She was skulking around out there, too. Maybe they followed her.”

  “Did they?”

  “We maybe haven’t been paying enough attention. Blair and Russ figured out how to get some wine.”

  “The rats aren’t drinking, too, are they?”

  “I don’t know about the little ones. The big ones got a taste or two.”

  I wanted to bark and howl and go spank Singe. Instead, I said, “Melondie, slide back out there and keep an eye out. I’ll send help if I can.”

  She needed three tries to line up the window well enough to buzz through the gap.

  Tharpe and his cohorts were now enjoying their own little party within the party. I went to visit. “Saucerhead.”

  “Man, Garrett, here you come in one of your moods. What’s up?”

  “There’re some guys in green pants outside, looking for trouble. The drivers might not be able to handle it themselves.”

  “You lank-shank sack a camel snot…”

  I left too soon to appreciate Tharpe’s full list of my horrible shortcomings. I know what they are, anyway. Tinnie keeps me posted.

  I got back to my table just as the guest of honor came out.

  Belinda had gotten Chodo looking presentable. He appeared to be asleep in his chair, not incapacitated.

  That impression lasted only briefly.

  Silence filled Whitefield Hall. Although there had been rumors, they’d been disregarded because the Outfit retained its Contague edge. But here was proof that Chodo Contague wasn’t the Boss anymore. Clearly, he hadn’t been in charge for a long time.

  A neatly arranged blanket covered his lap and legs. His bony talons lay in his lap, right on left. His bare forearms were purplish. His chin rested on his chest. He drooled.

  Hard men there were appalled and repelled.

  Belinda said, “The guest of honor. My father. Chodo Contague. Celebrating his sixtieth birthday. Let’s toast the man responsible for our prosperity.”

  The shock waned under the weight of wine and good cheer. Some shill burst into song. Others picked it up. A few wondered what this meant to the overall organization.

  I caught snippets. Some saw this as a chance to improve themselves. But they couldn’t concentrate, even though they kept talking about trying.

  I was ten feet away when Chodo came to life, though only just barely. He raised his chin three inches, the effort herculean. His whole body shook. His gaze found me momentarily.

  A kitten leaped desperately toward his lap.

  The hall slammed into darkness. Then fire exploded as the decorative lamps shattered and spewed burning oil. People pounded their clothing, to kill the flames there. The air began to heat up.

  So did panic.

  The latter included Belinda, who ran blindly.

  This definitely wasn’t on her program.

  I caught her, gripped her arm with one hand, and spun Chodo’s chair with the other, headed them toward the kitchen. Everybody else rushed the front door.

  Morley quickly sent his troops to fight the fires. He keeps a cool head however filthy the scat storm gets. When even queens of the underworld are losing control, Morley stands short, proud and calm.

  A swarm of cats streamed past. Rats were in motion, too. Pixies zoomed around overhead.

  The confusion eased in the kitchen. “You stay here,” I told Belinda. “Where are your bodyguards?”

  “Good question. I mean to ask.”

  “I’ll find them.” It was a
puzzle, them vanishing. They should’ve surrounded Belinda the instant the excitement started.

  The baby cats headed back into the big hall.

  Belinda seized my arm, for one moment a scared little girl. Which is one way she manipulates me. Then the woman who ran the Outfit reemerged. She snagged a butcher knife. “Be careful.”

  “Watch out. Don’t leave unless you have to. There’s some kind of excitement going on outside.” I followed my kitties.

  Fires still pranced and murmured in a dozen places. Only the little blazes had been slain. The excitement up front had ended. A few bold fellows had turned back to help, though the effort looked hopeless. The remaining fires weren’t going to let mere mortals push them around.

  I found Belinda’s bodyguards. They’d gone down where they were posted. They hadn’t bailed on her at all. Two were smoldering and dead. One was just plain dead. Two more were smoldering but alive, unconscious, in desperate need of help.

  I discovered several more goombahs in like condition, alive but unconscious. “Morley! Over here! Problems bigger than those fires.” The goombahs were burning like that woman had. “How do we get them out?”

  Dotes barked, “Theodore! Take Beans up front. See if you can’t get some help in here.” He bounced over beside me. “This is ugly, Garrett. Really ugly. Smells like sorcery.” Thugs crackled and popped.

  “I don’t know. Grab his legs.” We huffed and puffed and dragged a man out to the ice bath. I reminded Morley about my meeting with Harvester Temisk.

  “It had something to do with all this?”

  “Maybe. But I don’t know where he’d fit. Cause or effect? Symptom or disease? On three. One. Two. Three.”

  Ice water splashed. A kitten protested getting its feet wet. It strutted off indignantly, shaking each paw as it came off the floor.

  The cat led us back into the main hall, where it bounded into the pail I’d used to bring the litter aboard. That pail was full of cats already, all with paws on the rim, watching anxiously. I shouted, “Just find somebody who’s breathing and get him out of here!”