He did not explain. They must have connected that rusty knife to Handsome. I didn’t want to know what next. It was sure to be harsh.
He did say, ‘‘I’m interested mostly because of a sudden interest on the Hill in what’s happening in that neighborhood. Particularly because somebody wants to go low profile. When Block can’t . . .’’ He stopped. It was against his religion to volunteer anything.
The problem would be Kip’s friends. Some had to be from the high Hill country. Doing what kids do. Helping themselves to their parents’ stuff when the old folks weren’t watching. I did it with Mom’s brandy. And got caught every time. Hard to cover up when you pass out with the bottle in your lap.
‘‘Any names I know trying for the down low?’’
Snaggled teeth again. I wouldn’t get Deal Relway that easy.
‘‘And you get all over me for holding back, even when I don’t.’’
‘‘And if you’re not, even this time, I’m the world’s first nine-foot-tall dwarf.’’
I zagged when I hoped he expected a zig. ‘‘What can you tell me about somebody they call Lurking Felhske?’’
He started, then faded into neutral mode. Turning off anything that might be a tell. ‘‘Felhske?’’
‘‘Lurking Felhske. Actual first name possibly Tribune.’’
‘‘Why? What do you know about Felhske?’’
‘‘Interesting. There something special about him?’’
‘‘What do you know about him?’’
‘‘What do you know?’’
‘‘I know you’re sitting in my cell way down here in the heart of the Al-Khar. And it’s a long way to the front door. What do you know about Lurking Felhske?’’
He’d gone from friendly to neutral to hard-ass in seconds. ‘‘There was somebody watching us over at the World. Saucerhead Tharpe said he thought it might be somebody called Lurking Felhske.’’
‘‘Tharpe knows Felhske?’’
‘‘No. Knew of him. I never heard of him before.’’
‘‘Tell it.’’
I did so.
‘‘Run that description again.’’
I did that.
‘‘I might want to borrow your tracker.’’
‘‘Excuse me?’’ I hadn’t mentioned Singe getting a sniff of Felhske.
‘‘We have a strong interest in arranging a direct interview with the Felhske person.’’ Naturally, he didn’t explain why. ‘‘You’ve given me more than I’ve been able to put together before.’’
‘‘I can’t tell Singe to do it. She probably would, though, in the interest of good relations. And making a little money. But you’d have to give her something to start with.’’
‘‘Um?’’ He figured I was handing him a ration.
‘‘She’s the best damned tracker in town but you can’t just tell her to go find somebody. She’s got to have a place to start, the right scent, reasonable weather, and has to get started pretty soon after the subject leaves the starting point. This burg has got a lot of stinks.’’
‘‘And stinkers.’’
‘‘Of which I’m one?’’
‘‘If the shoe fits. Listen. I’mvery interested in having a conversation with Mr. Felhske. Who sounds like an orangutan in clothing. I’d be appreciative of anyone who made that conversation possible.’’
‘‘Drop by the house, talk to Singe. She’s always looking for ways to ingratiate herself.’’
The Director’s tiny smile told me I’d find myself running between the flop drops of a swarm of flying pigs before he visited my house again.
He was one of those paranoids who was dead on the mark when he thought somebody was out to get him.
Old Bones would love to prowl the labyrinth of his lethal little mind.
He muttered, ‘‘This might change things. I need to . . . I appreciate you coming in, Garrett. I may want to see you again. Hell, it’s a lead pipe cinch you’ll make me want to see you again.’’
There were questions I wanted to ask. I got no chance. This wasn’t about me and my wants. He yelled. A little man with some gnome in him materialized. ‘‘Cut him loose.’’
‘‘Sir?’’ Spoken to me. ‘‘If you’ll come with me?’’
I’d been dismissed. I’d need to throw firebombs to get Relway’s attention again. ‘‘Lead on, Studly.’’
No point telling them I could find my way out. I might want to surprise them someday.
28
It was only afternoon but it had gotten dark. Snow fell in big, soggy chunks that could knock you down if you weren’t careful. I’d need to beware ambushes. It was great snowball snow. Every kid in TunFaire would be balling up and waiting for victims.
Ten steps from the Al-Khar doorway one wide load of a human slid into my path. I was about to break out my head thumper when I recognized him. ‘‘What’s up, Sarge?’’
‘‘Morley was worried about you. Sent me ta fine out what the laws was doin’ wit’ you. Good timin’, you. I jist got here. Now I don’t got ta freeze my ass off all day.’’
That would take a long arctic winter. Which observation I reserved. ‘‘Yeah? How’d he know they picked me up?’’
‘‘Dat frail a’ yours. Sent somebody over. On account of she was worried about you.’’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘‘I don’ get dat. Somebody like you wit’ her.’’
‘‘Makes me wonder, too, Sarge. But I don’t look too close at its teeth.’’
‘‘I don’t get it.’’ When there were treasures like him to be had.
‘‘The gods work in mysterious ways, I reckon. Tell Morley they turned me loose. Give him all my love for caring.’’
‘‘Maybe you might oughta go tank him your own self, slick.’’
Maybe. Hell, why not? My day was shot. Too much time inside the second most terrible Crown structure in TunFaire. And The Palms was closer than home. Meaning a chance to get warm again that much sooner.
‘‘Why not?’’ I told Sarge. ‘‘I don’t even remember what I’m supposed to be doing.’’
‘‘Dey can do dat ta you, dem guys in dere.’’
‘‘You know about that?’’
‘‘Been dere, ace. Every mont’ or so, dey pull me in. Dey git somebody from da crew most ever week.’’
I didn’t know that. Morley never mentioned it.
Maybe it was something new. I hadn’t gotten together with Dotes for a while.
I’d turned into a real stay-at-home. They’d probably held wakes for me at my old habitual hangouts.
I said, ‘‘Must be tough, trying to run a business when you can’t count on your people coming in.’’
We were trudging along with the snowflakes bashing us from behind. Sarge stopped. He looked at me like he was trying to figure out something. Which he was, of course.
Puddle, Sarge, the rest of Morley’s crew, they never did connect fully with my sense of humor.
Morley Dotes, well-known half-breed dark elf, runs a toney watering hole that used to be a dive. And something worse before that. As had he.
We’ve been friends so long that I don’t recall how we became blood brothers. So long that there’s never any question anymore about turning out to offer a helping paw.
Dotes had his troops assembled for inspection when Sarge and I entered The Palms. He told them, ‘‘This snow will keep the punters away. Again. I don’t want to lay anybody off. But if I don’t have money coming in, I can’t pay wages.’’
The faces were familiar, though I couldn’t put a name to several. None looked like the kinds of guys who consider food service their life’s calling.
Sarge told me, ‘‘Sit your ass down somewhere an’ keep your friggin’ mout’ shut. He’ll get to you.’’
‘‘I could be down to the World counting giant bugs.’’
Sarge gave me the boggled frown often shown when I talk to him.
He isn’t the brightest member of Morley’s crew.
Sometimes I think Morley picks his associates with an eye to shining sunny amongst them.
Dotes finished haranguing his troops. ‘‘Sarge, get that coat out of the kitchen.’’ He settled across the table from me.
I observed, ‘‘You look worn down.’’
‘‘I am. Business sucks. I’m dying, trying to keep my suppliers paid and my people employed.’’
‘‘You got through last winter.’’
‘‘Last winter The Palms was still fashionable. The place to see and be seen. The place to make a connection.’’