Faded Steel Heat

by Glen Cook

“Maybe I’ll do that.”

  “He doesn’t look preoccupied right now.” North English was posturing, peacock proud, basking in male envy, not noticing that no one hurried to get close to him. “And I’ve got to desert you anyway. It’s time for me to look for bad guys.”

  Belinda touched my hand lightly, the gesture entirely for the benefit of Alyx and Tinnie.

  The big cats really try to hook their claws in one another.

  Belinda strode away.

  Tinnie smoldered. Alyx demanded, “Who is that woman, Garrett? Why did you bring her?”

  Tinnie answered for me. “Her name is Belinda Contague, Alyx. Her father is the number one crime boss in TunFaire. She’s here because our friend the Dead Man asked Garrett to bring her.”

  So that was what was in that letter. But Tinnie still wanted it to be my fault.

  “How long have you known her?” Alyx demanded. “How come she acts like she owns you?”

  “A few months. But I’ve known her dad a long time. Same as I’ve known your dad for a long time. She acts like that because she knows it’ll irritate Tinnie and because she likes to make me squirm. Just like you.”

  That was a good shot. But not good enough. They didn’t want to believe it. I reiterated, “I need to wander around now.”

  “You’re really working?” Tinnie asked.

  “Yes. Gilbey’s no professional and he knows it. That’s why I got an invitation.” I started walking.

  Both women followed.

  “Uh... Ladies...”

  Alyx said, “I can show you around.”

  Tinnie’s expression said she was going to make damned certain Alyx did nothing of the sort. I sighed. This was a fifteen-year-old’s dream. At my age it was too rife with complications.

  I sighed again. “Suppose we stroll around and see how easy it would be for somebody to get in uninvited.”

  29

  Tinnie and Alyx stuck like my shadow. Once, when we were close and Alyx was a step ahead, I grabbed Tinnie’s hand for a second. I asked Alyx, “How many people came in to handle the work on this?”

  “What?”

  “The extra staff. How many outsiders?”

  “A bunch in the kitchen. A bunch to handle the service. Some musicians. I don’t know. Ask Manvil or Gerris. Or Lance.”

  I guess she noticed me touching Tinnie.

  If somebody really wanted to get into the Weider house, coming now as occasional help would be a good way.

  Sometimes you just have intuitions.

  Or maybe you see something and don’t recognize it consciously but your mind works on it and you come up with an idea that, later, makes it look like you read the future.

  I said, “Let’s check the kitchen.” The largest mass of outsiders ought to be there. The shindig would require tons of special food.

  “Stay with me,” Alyx said, eager to regain my attention. Maybe she hadn’t gotten her full share growing up the youngest of five, with a father dedicated to empire building and a mother who was already dying slowly.

  Following Alyx was no chore. The hardest work I did was to pretend I didn’t find being a few steps behind a shapely behind all that interesting.

  “You’re not fooling anybody, Garrett,” Tinnie whispered. I glanced back. She had her devil grin on. I like her best when she’s in that mood. Unfortunately, Alyx was right there to keep me in trouble.

  We entered the kitchen.

  Several religions boast hells that are less crowded, cooler, and quieter. The master of ceremonies was a devil woman so large that at first I thought she must be part troll or ogre. But no, she was just large and ferocious and determined that her domain should be an extension of her will. She never shut up. Her voice was a continuously constrained bellow. She was an immigrant with a strange accent. Platoons of cooks and bakers and their assistants, and boys who stoked the stoves and hauled firewood and charcoal and worked bellows and whatnot in a wild rush to achieve the impossible, were all lashed on by her scorn.

  Our entry attracted attention instantly. She spun, prepared to repel boarders. She recognized Alyx only after she’d drawn in a bushel of air. “Miss Alyx,” she boomed, “you shouldn’t be back here now, you. Dey a party tonight, dey are. And you in your finest, you.”

  “Mr. Garrett needs help finding his way around.”

  The big woman dropped her chin to her chest. She glared at me from beneath eyebrows like hedges. “Garrett? Be you dat Garrett, you?”

  “Which Garrett?” I had no idea who she was but it sounded like the reverse might not be true. She might even harbor some old grudge. “I don’t recall our having met.”

  “You never did, you. I an’ I want to know, I, be you de Garrett, he helps de mister sometimes, him? Dis Garrett, was a Marine, him. He saved my Shoeman from de swamp, him. From de debil crocodile.”

  “Yes. Yes. And I’m not sure. We all pulled each other out of the swamp a few times. I remember a guy named Harman and somebody called Bobby Ducks. Nobody knew why.”

  “Dat be him, yeah. Dat be my baby, him. He never like his god name, him. Always want it be Bobby, him do.”

  I vanished into a huge and powerful hug, me. As my last breath fled me I reflected that Bobby Ducks’ daddy must have been a real man’s man, him.

  The big woman turned me loose. I gulped air like a fresh-caught fish. She told us, “But I have a big job to do now, I an’ I. An’ if’n I an’ I turn my back one solitary minute on dese lazy debils —”

  I interrupted. “How much outside help came in for tonight? Some of them may be here to hurt the Weiders.” I hoped my imagination wasn’t running too wild.

  She understood immediately. “In de kitchen us added fourteen pairs of hands, us. For de work on de other side of de door, Genord, he hired sixteen men, him.”

  Gerris Genord. We knew one another only well enough to dislike one another. He was a bigger snob than even Ty Weider could be. He spent his life scandalized because people like me were allowed inside the house. Unless he had orders from Gilbey, he wouldn’t work with me at all.

  Maybe I could get around him.

  Maybe I’d be lucky and not have to do anything.

  “Those the only outsiders here?” I asked. “Besides our guests?” I recalled a mention of musicians.

  The big woman nodded and turned away, unable to restrain her bellows any longer.

  “And who would she be?” I asked Alyx. Earlier contacts with the Weiders hadn’t taken me into the kitchen.

  “That’s Neersa. Neersa Bintor.” She pronounced it Nay-Earsah. “She’s been in charge down here since before I was born. Even Daddy is afraid to argue with her.”

  The big woman stopped bellowing, turned back to me. “You, Garrett. Maybe you want to know dis, you. Some of dese hirelings, dey maybe not so trustworthy, dem. Some keep trying to sneak away into de house, dem. Maybe to steal someding, eh? Dey have not get away from Neersa yet but maybe I an’ I, maybe not be so hawkeye sometime, maybe.”

  “Thank you.” That was support for my hunch. Wasn’t it? I glanced around. “I’ll keep an eye open. None of these people could melt into a crowd.” Most looked like the sort who worked only as occasional labor even in a robust job market. Not backbone of de kingdom, dem. “They all accounted for now?”

  Neersa allowed as how she believed that was so by way of an imperious nod.

  “I’ll circulate here for a while, see if I recognize any villains.”

  Alyx asked, “What should we do?” like she suspected me of first-degree intent to ditch.

  “Wait. I won’t be long. I promise.” The girl had a vulnerable air that made you want to make promises — even if they were promises you couldn’t keep.

  Maybe she did need Daddy watching out for her.

  30

  I wasn’t long, either. The odors of cooking combined with the smells of too many unwashed bodies crushed into too tight and too hot a space quickly discouraged me. Also, few of these people appeared smart enough or stupid enough to get
involved in a plot against the brewery. And if they did get out of the kitchen, my nose would warn me.

  If I was a villain who wanted to make an impact, I’d get in with the serving crew. They would be more presentable and more socially adept. And they would be welcome in parts of the house denied the kitchen staff.

  I rejoined Alyx and Tinnie. “Too hot in here.” I herded them toward the exit. From the corners of my eyes I watched for anyone paying me any special attention. Once we were out I asked, “Either of you notice anybody watching me?”

  “I did,” Tinnie replied.

  “Uhm? And?”

  “I mean, I watched you. Close.” She winked.

  Which irritated Alyx for sure. “How about you, Alyx?”

  “She stole my line.” She stuck out her tongue, so maybe Tinnie had. “No. Nobody even looked at you. You blended right in. Looked like you belonged there. Even in that outfit.”

  Belinda had assured me the Tad Weider hand-me-down was perfect for the occasion. “What’s wrong with this outfit?”

  Tinnie smirked. “We’re talking silk purses and sow’s ears, Garrett.”

  “If I wanted verbal abuse, I’d get me a talking parrot.” Speaking of whom, he’d disappeared. If there are any gods... What I mean is, if there are any responsible gods, one or two might make sure the Dead Man didn’t fade while the bird was here. I shuddered to think what might happen if that gaudy cowbird became himself.

  “He’s not here,” Tinnie explained. “Somebody has to take up the slack.”

  “Where’re we going?” Alyx asked.

  “Around the corner to where the serving folks should be getting ready to — Hello.”

  “What?”

  “I see a familiar face. In fact, I see two.” They belonged to Trace Wendover and Carter Stockwell, erstwhile recruiters, all spiffy in servants’ livery. The outsiders were all dressed in the same threadbare outfits. The contractor probably rented them, trying to expand his margin.

  Trace noticed me an instant after I spotted him. He didn’t acknowledge my interest but did drift toward Stockwell. Carter came alert before Trace got close enough to whisper.

  “I was right,” I mumbled, smug. “There was something going on.”

  “What?” Tinnie asked.

  “I see two rightsists who have no business being here.” Stockwell and Wendover weren’t the sort to be reduced to day work. Those pretty boys had to come from families of substance.

  Alyx asked, “Should I get Manvil?”

  “No. You guys just watch out behind me. Oh, hell!”

  “What?”

  I’d taken my eyes off the boys for a few seconds. “They’re gone.” But how? There was no exit they could have reached that quickly, nor did the server gang seem diminished. But Stockwell and Wendover weren’t among them anymore. “You’d better get Manvil after all.” I didn’t like the implications of what was happening.

  31

  Gilbey brought Ty ‘s pal Lancelyn Mac and a brace of hulking, uncomfortably out-of-place dock wallopers. “You got something?” he asked. He was ready for war.

  “I spotted two rightsists who definitely don’t belong here. They called themselves Carter Stockwell and Trace Wendover when they tried to enlist me yesterday.”

  “Interesting coincidence.”

  “Ain’t it, though? They came to my house claiming they wanted me to join a freecorps called Black Dragon Valsung.”

  “Doesn’t ring any bells.”

  “Not for me either. Just now they spotted me the same time I made them. They did a grand disappearing act. I rounded up Mr. Gresser. That’s him with the ladies. He says nobody named Stockwell or Wendover belongs to his crew.” Gresser was boss of the contract servants.

  “They wouldn’t use their real names, would they?”

  “Only if they’re stupid.” Entirely possible with TunFaire’s bad boys. “Gresser did concede the possibility that he might have employed men who answer the descriptions of Trace Wendover and Carter Stockwell. He doesn’t seem close to his help.”

  Gresser was a weasely little functionary type in a state of high agitation. He was a naturally nervous sort terrified that his plans for the evening would collapse and his reputation would follow. All because we insisted on making a fuss about a few of his people.

  Gilbey skewered Gresser with a hard stare. “You know anything about your people, Gresser?”

  I sighed. I hadn’t been sure Gilbey would take me seriously. I still wasn’t sure I ought to take me seriously. I was running on hunch power. Hunches are one of my more sporadic talents.

  I listened with one ear while Gresser whined, “There just ain’t no way to check them all out. You do the best you can in the time you got. You come up with a job, first you got to get word out that you need people. Then you take the ones you know. Then you look the rest over and pick the ones that seem the soberest and most presentable, that ain’t gonna blow their noses on the table linen or grope the female guests. Then, if you got the extra minute, maybe you ask around does anybody know anything down.” And so on.

  I kept one eye on Tinnie. She was put out about the whole situation. I kept the other on Alyx. For her this had become a great adventure. She remained poised on the verge of bouncing around like an excited kid.

  She did bounce nicely, thank you.

  With my free ear I eavesdropped on Gresser’s grumbling troops.

  One voice stood out. I whirled. They all stopped talking, startled.

  I didn’t spot the man but I knew the voice from the brewery stable.

  I jumped again as Lancelyn materialized beside me, tense as a hunting dog on point. “You heard that?” Then he relaxed. “Must have been my imagination.”

  “You thought you heard the big mouth from the stables yesterday?”

  “Yes.”

  “So did I.”

  “I don’t see him.”

  “And I just saw two guys who aren’t there now.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. But it smells like sorcery.” Wouldn’t you know, just when I’d started to think it would be straightforward. “And that’s an odor I hate. How’s Ty holding up?”

  “He’s in heaven. He’s the center of attention. Which is where he always wants to be. Nicks is the one hurting. You’re spooky in those clothes. When I came up behind you you were standing exactly like Tad used to.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No need. You think we need to do something more to protect the old man?”

  “I don’t think he should come out at all. What about those guys in the stable?”

  “They didn’t know anything. They joined a rights group just last week. They were asked to discourage you if you started nosing around. They didn’t like bullying one of their own kind but you were always a pain in the ass so they didn’t have much of a conscience problem. Until Ty told them this could get them fired.”

  “Did they cooperate?”

  “Of course. They weren’t so fanatic they wanted to go job-hunting. But they didn’t even know the names of the men they were helping. They never introduced themselves. They just used the right recognition phrases.”

  “Things are getting absurd,” I grumbled.

  “People are scared, Garrett. Times are changing. It don’t look like they’re going to get better. People want to blame somebody. You put thousands of men used to violence into conditions like that and it would be absurd to expect nothing to happen.”

  He was right.

  I spotted a guy who seemed very interested in me. I didn’t recognize him. I tried to keep track as he moved around.

  Lance asked, “Have you seen Kittyjo?”

  “Not for several years.” Kittyjo was older than Alyx by a decade. Like Ty, she was always unhappy. Rumor said she’d tried suicide.

  Maybe there’s one envious devil god determined to punish Max Weider for his success. Great villains steal and murder and torture and pay only if they get gobbled up by even bigger villains. W
eider never played it any way but square, his tools intelligence and hard work. So he loses one son, has another driven mad, has a third crippled forever, has a daughter twisted by severe emotional problems, has a beloved wife dying unpleasantly by degrees, seemingly never more than one breath away from the end. And now the man who deserved none of that had poisonous political snakes trying to slither into his life.

  Much more and I was going to get mad.

  “She came down before you got here. She couldn’t wait, she was so excited. She was like a kid on her birthday. It’s the first time she’s broken through the melancholy in months.”

  I asked, “Do I sense a more than casual concern?”

  Lance showed me a sick smile. “You found out, Garrett. I don’t know how it happened. I figured it would be Alyx. I worked hard at being interested in Alyx. Common sense says Alyx should be your choice if you have to fall for one of the Weider girls. She’s the only normal one here. Besides the old man.”

  Me, I’d assumed he had an unhealthy attachment to Ty. Goes to show you. Nobody is what they appear.

  I stared at Lance too long. Naturally, when I checked the serving crew I couldn’t find my interested man. “We need to pin numbers on these guys.”

  There was sorcery in the air for sure.

  Gilbey bustled up. “I sent word upstairs, Garrett. Max says screw you. He don’t care if you’ve got Venageti rangers on the roof and commandos in the kitchen, we go ahead with the show. He says it’s time to earn your keep.”

  “I hope his arithmetic is better than mine. Because I flat don’t like the way things are adding up.”

  32

  An uproar arose in the ballroom. Feminine shrieks preceded bellows of masculine laughter. “Oh-oh.” I had a bad feeling but headed that way anyhow.

  My bleak premonition was dead on. My partner’s control had slipped. The Goddamn Parrot had done something. Women were trying to catch him. Men stood back offering valuable parrot-stalking advice.

  It occurred to me that I wouldn’t enjoy myself much if that foul-beaked feather duster fled to me for help.

  Mom Garrett didn’t raise her boy to die for the sins of overtrained pigeons. And nobody out there looked smart enough to believe I wasn’t fooling around with some kind of ventrical locationism.