Red Iron Nights by Glen Cook
“I take it you’re going to handle this, Garrett,” Block said. He was nervous as hell. Most people are around the Dead Man. He has a considerable reputation, all of it deserved. He’s done some amazing things since I’ve known him.
“We’re considering it.” I was fighting myself. Laziness and the desire not to get involved in another bizarre case warred with outrage. Outrage was ahead by a nose. The white knight had been on the shelf too long, his only chance to strut his stuff his rescue of Chodo’s spooky daughter. But the white knight has his weaknesses. While he doesn’t mind charging full tilt against a visible villain, rusty sword flailing, he hates having to hunt the villain down. Legwork buries his resolve faster than anything the hard boys can do by way of threat or violence. And this thing would be solved by legwork.
Relax, Garrett. It should not be so bad as you anticipate. I saw Block jump, so knew the Dead Man had included him in this time. Captain Block. I sense that you have a great deal hanging upon the outcome of the investigation you propose.
Block turned pale, took on kind of a green tinge around the edges. Having somebody talk right into your head is not a reassuring experience. Not the first time. And especially so when you’re a guy who has a whole encyclopedia of corruption stashed and doesn’t want it out where the world can see. I guess you’d say it was a measure of his distress and determination that he coped so well. He bounced back quickly. “Yes. There’s a lot of heat from the top of the Hill. It’ll get hotter every time some dizzy bitch gets herself offed.”
You are certain there will be more?
“Damn straight. What do you think?”
I think you are correct. The Dead Man was all business now. The killings will continue and will come more and more rapidly until the people responsible are destroyed. I think we are up against something like nothing any of us has seen before. The evidence I glean from your minds tells me this is the work of a compulsive killer who cannot help doing what he is doing and who will have to do it again, ever more often, to appease the devil that drives him. But it also tells me he is not doing this without help.
I asked, “You figure there’s a connection with—?” With what had happened at Morley’s place. Only he cut me short.
Yes. We had something he didn’t want handed to Block. Garrett, I see you shrinking from the legwork this will entail. You are correct in your estimate. This will require talking extensively with everyone even remotely involved. The families of the dead women. Their guards. The people who found them, and the Watchmen who followed up. People in the neighborhoods where the bodies were found.
He knows how to beat a guy down. I shrank with every word. I was the size of a mouse. I looked for a hole in the baseboard so I could scoot off and hide. He was talking about the rest of my life.
I do legwork because it’s what I do; talk to people and talk to people and poke and prod until things start to happen. But I don’t like it, partly because I’m lazy, but mostly because of the people. I never cease to be amazed and appalled by the sheer scope of human wickedness.
You are not considering our resources, Garrett.
Right. I was busy feeling sorry for myself.
We have the Watch. A thousand men for legwork. Is that not so, Captain? Will not every man of the Watch throw himself into this with the greatest vigor?
“It’s our asses if we don’t. They’re already hinting. We have another five murders, I figure the Watch is out of business.”
Break my heart.
I saw what the Dead Man meant. I’d been too involved in myself. The Watchmen would do anything to cover their asses. Maybe even their jobs. We just had to grab them by their instinct for self-preservation.
Then do as I tell you. I want to interview the bodyguards and the parents myself. Also those who found the corpses. Your men will canvass the neighborhoods where the women were found. Also the areas where they were seized. I doubt you will gain much cooperation, but cooperation is unnecessary. Even you Watchmen will have developed a rudimentary sense for when someone is not being forthcoming. Bring any such persons to me. I will open them up.
I marveled. The Dead Man makes me look hyper. Usually I have to threaten mayhem just to get his attention when there’s work to do. He was jumping into this one headlong. I hadn’t agreed to do anything yet. His enthusiasm suggested a secret agenda. Or he knew something he wasn’t sharing. I eyed him narrowly as he continued with Block, telling him what times he wanted whom to come be interviewed.
Suspicion and paranoia become habits in this business. You take fits where you don’t even trust yourself.
When the Dead Man takes a notion to snooze, he can hang in there for months. And when he’s awake, he can go around the clock for days. He had that in mind. Poor old Dean was going to die answering the door.
Block had to borrow pen and paper to remember all his instructions. It took him half an hour to write them down. I paced and worried and wondered. Then the Dead Man dismissed the Watchman. I walked him to the front door.
“You’ll never regret this, Garrett. I guarantee. We clean this up, you got a free pass for life.”
“Sure.” I know how long gratitude lasts. About as long as it takes for the bill to come due. Especially in TunFaire. The only guy I know who sticks to that kind of promise is Chodo Contague. He used to drive me crazy repaying imaginary debts.
That gave me a shiver. Old Chodo always paid his debts. And he owed me a big one.
I closed the door behind Block, put Chodo out of mind, went charging back to find out what the hell old Chuckles thought he was doing.
12
Not yet, Garrett. Dean! The Dead Man did not often extend his mindtouch beyond his room. That was a courtesy he extended us. Get rid of those harridans. Commend them to your nieces. We have a commission.
“His nieces?” I hurried into his room. “You want to create monsters?” Dean had a platoon of spinster nieces, all front-runners for Miss Homely TunFaire. They drove him to despair. Which was why he had conscripted himself as a full-time member of my household. He couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you imagine that pack in pursuit of a mission from God?”
Dean has sense enough to avoid that eventuality. While we await him, I will tell you what to do. Backtrack from events at Mr. Dotes’s place. But first bring Mr. Dotes and Mr. Tharpe to see me. We will want their help.
“ ‘We’ might want it, but how are ‘we’ going to afford it? My share of what I’m getting to watch Barking Dog won’t—”
Captain Block will assume expenses. You should pay closer attention. I quoted an exorbitant fee. He was desperate enough not to quibble.
“If they’re as scared as he puts on, they could put up enough from bribe money to pay anything.”
Exactly. We have been handed an unprecedented opportunity. Where he’s concerned, money has no provenance. It’s never dirty, only the people who handle it are. I intend to pursue it with vigor.
With my vigor, he meant. “That’s the reason you’re jumping on this?” I didn’t believe it.
Let us say that I find my mind growing as flabby and slothful as you allowed your body to become. I must get into shape before it is too late. I am not yet prepared to slide into oblivion.
Oblivion. I put that away where I could find it next time he started in on the condition of my immortal soul.
What he said sounded good. I didn’t believe it. And he knew that. But he didn’t let me press. There is no time to waste. Get Mr. Tharpe and Mr. Dotes.
Mr. Tharpe didn’t want to get got. He’d gotten rid of Billie and had replaced her with a little blond who could have been her sister. The new hadn’t worn off enough for him to see that. He wanted to stay home and play.
“Anyway, it ain’t even dark out yet, Garrett.”
“You only work at night now?”
“Getting in the habit, doing these odd jobs for Licks.”
“So sunlight for me. Talk to the Dead Man. You don’t want the work, no harm done. I’ll get somebody
“What’s shaking?”
“A serial killer. A real psycho. His Nibs can fill you in. I don’t know why he wants you. He just started spouting orders like a fountain.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to him.” He looked at his friend. She scorched me with a lethal stare.
I said, “I got to see Morley,” and got out of there before the woman carved their initials in my trunk.
Morley’s place was sparsely populated. It had just opened. His customers are like the stars, seldom seen before dark. Those in there then were early bats trying to get a jump on their competition.
Nobody got excited when I walked in. Nobody knew me. The guy behind the counter was new. He was a skinny little half-elf like Morley, handsome as hell but barely old enough to think about taking advantage of that. He was trying to grow a mustache.
It was catching. “I need to see Morley,” I told him. “Name’s Garrett. Tell him it is business and there’s a shitpot in it.”
The kid looked me straight in the eye. “Morley? Who the hell is Morley? I don’t know any Morley.”
One of those. “Kid, I’ll take into account the fact that you’re new. I’ll take into account the fact that you’re young and dumb, and figure you got to be a wiseass. When I’m done accounting, I just might pull you over the bar and pound away till Morley comes down to see about all the screaming. Get on the tube.”
The audience wasn’t much, but it did exist. The kid thought he had to show me. Quick as an eyeblink he showed me a razor. Elves have a love affair with sharp steel, especially the young ones. He was so predictable I was there with my headknocker as fast as he was with the blade. I popped his knuckles. He yowled like a stomped cat. The razor flew down the counter. The audience gave us a hand. And a mountain of a man lumbered out of the kitchen.
“Garrett. What you doing?” This was Sarge, another of Morley’s old hands. He came out of the same production batch as Puddle.
“I asked to see Morley. Kid pulled a razor.”
Sarge shook his head sadly. “What you want to go do that for, Spud? Man wants to see Morley, give Morley a howl. Morley wants to have him friends like this, that’s his lookout.”
“Spud?” I asked. What kind of name was Spud? Not even a dwarf would tag his kid Spud.
“What we call him, Garrett. Name’s really Narcisio. Morley’s nephew. His sister’s kid. Got to be more than she could handle. Morley brought him down here so he could straighten him out.”
Meantime, the kid talked to the voice tube that connected to Morley’s office.
I shook my head. Morley Dotes going to set somebody’s feet on the straight and narrow? Morley, whose real career is cutting throats and breaking bones and running an occasional con or even a straight ripoff if the stakes are big enough? My pal Morley?
Sarge put on a big grin. “I know what you’re thinking. But you know Morley.”
I knew Morley. He could believe mutually contradictory things at the same time, with religious fervor. His whole life was a tangle of contradictions. He lived them all with passion. He could sell you anything, because he believed every word he said when he said it. That was why he did well with the ladies. And no matter that he might take up a completely new passion five minutes hence. He was completely committed now.
Morley had done some good where Spud was concerned. The kid wasn’t happy about being shown up, but he put it away from him. He told me, “Morley will be down in a few minutes. You want something while you’re waiting?”
“Puddle still got his keg back there? Tap me one off it. He owes me a couple gallons.”
Sarge chuckled. “Whyn’t you finish the whole thing? I love to watch him puff up like a big old toady frog when he comes in and finds out somebody’s been at his keg.”
“I’ll do my best. Company?” I jerked a thumb skyward.
“Yeah. His luck’s coming back.”
“Glad somebody’s is.”
Sarge chuckled again. “You shoulda married that Maya when she asked. She was all right.” He patted Spud’s shoulder, said, “You done all right. Just don’t be so fast with that razor. Next guy might not be nice like Garrett.” He headed for the kitchen. I wondered what he was doing back there. I wouldn’t trust him anywhere near food in preparation. Not even the horse fodder they serve at Morley’s place.
I figured the kid’s ego needed a boost so I sort of sideways apologized for being so hardass. The audience had lost interest, so he could halfway apologize too. “I only been here a couple days, Mr. Garrett.” He recognized the name now. “Always somebody coming in here to pester my uncle. You looked like an unhappy husband.”
I laughed. “Not a husband, just unhappy.” Morley isn’t satisfied unless he’s taking needless risks. Like refusing to fool around with a woman if she isn’t married. He used to have a bad gambling problem too, but he got over that.
Morley came downstairs looking smug. Without saying so, he wanted me to know his life was going great. Way better than mine. I couldn’t argue. Lots of people’s lives were going better than mine.
“What’s going on, Garrett?”
“Need some privacy to talk.”
“You on a job?”
“This time. Dead Man says we might need to subcontract. Also, he wants to pick your brain.”
“Take the table in the corner.”
I picked up the beer Spud had drawn off Puddle’s keg. “You have so many of them up there you can’t hide them all?” Usually we went to his office to discuss business.
“No. Place is just a mess. Got a little carried away.”
That one he didn’t make me believe. Maybe it wasn’t a woman. Maybe they wanted me to think it was a woman because it had to do with his real business.
I didn’t ask. I just went to the table and sat, then told him what there was to tell. He listened well. He can do that when he wants.
“You think there’s a connection with what happened the other night?”
“I don’t know. The Dead Man thinks so. And he knows how to handicap.”
“Interesting.”
“You’d say something else if you’d seen that girl.”
“I expect so. I don’t approve of killing people who don’t ask for it. I mean, I find interesting the idea of taking money from the Watch for once, instead of seeing it go their way.”
I raised an eyebrow. It’s one of my finest skills.
He said, “That’s the way it works, Garrett. I’m not under Chodo’s protection. I don’t want to be part of the outfit. There’s always a price for independence.”
Made sense when I considered it. There were a thousand Watchmen and only a handful of guys in his bunch. As long as the Watch didn’t get greedy, it would be easier for him to pay than fight. Not that he would like it. But he was very much the pragmatist.
The Watch wouldn’t bother Chodo, of course. A lot of people are beholden to him. And he wouldn’t take kindly to any attempt to muscle his operations.
Morley thought about what I’d told him. “Let me finish up upstairs. I’ll walk over to your place with you.”
I watched him climb the stairs. What did he have going? He’d set it up so he’d be sure he was with me when I left. So I wouldn’t hang around outside to see who left after he did? That didn’t make sense. If I wanted to know, I could ask the Dead Man after Morley talked to him. If I let the Dead Man know I wanted him to peek.
Ah, paranoia.
13
Saucerhead opened the door. “A butler,” Morley cracked. “You’re coming up in the world, Garrett.”
Saucerhead didn’t crack a frown. “Who shall I say is calling, sir?” He filled the doorway. A charging bull couldn’t have moved him. Morley didn’t when he started inside.
“Hey! What gives? Check it out, big guy. It’s raining out here.”
I said, “I’m thinking about getting into the boat business. Might be the coming thing.”
The Dead Man had him not trusting his own eyes? What was this? What did he suspect?
Saucerhead finally grunted, stepped aside. Like he didn’t think it was such a hot idea. Morley shot me a puzzled look, headed down the hall. He ducked into the Dead Man’s room. “Garrett says there’s something sinister about what happened at my place last night.”
For twenty minutes I felt like an orphan. “Five of them?” Morley said. “They’re keeping a good wrap on it, then. I only heard about one, last month, down at the Landing.”
I jumped in. “That was the one before the one before the one they found this morning. This nut is on a shrinking time cycle. After the first one he waited six weeks. Then four weeks for the one in the Landing. Then three weeks, then a couple days over two weeks to get this last one.”
“Unless there’s some in there we don’t know about.”
“They’d be hard to miss, all of them strung up with their throats cut and the guts gone. And the Watch hasn’t had any reports of daughters missing from the Hill.”
“The guy doing this has got to be doing some homework up front. He’s not just hanging out on the corner waiting for the right rich girl. He’s picking his targets and he’s working several at the same time.”