‘‘Then all for one and one for all, and the kids all hung out at her house.’’
Indeed. Young Mr. Prose did tell us that the object of the Faction is mutual support. Assuming Kevans had the strength to ask for their help. . . .
‘‘That little shit lied to us. He came up with the compliance device. For her. All that stuff about trying to find a way to avoid social mistakes. . . . Smoke screen. Pure bullshit. The little asshole has been leading us around by our prejudices!’’ I got as wound up as the Dead Man had been a minute earlier.
I had no trouble imagining Kip and Kevans down in their bunker snickering over how they had snookered us. And their own old folks besides.
If he comes up with any ambition at all, that kid will wind up king of the world.
This would be a side trail we can take up, on our own behalf, after we have made the World safe for play production.Our wounds are grievous deep but not fatal. We have a dragon to slay and ghosts to lay.
True. The kitty had to be fed first.
But I was so stung I figured I’d be seeing Kip’s mom by the end of the week. Tinnie willing.
You really must get going, Garrett.
‘‘All right. All right. I’m on it.’’ But, of course, I had one more thing to do before I could plunge into the cold.
I visited Dean, turned him into a temporary operative by giving him instructions involving Joe Kerr, Playmate, John Stretch, Saucerhead’s wages, and Playmate’s fees.
I stopped off and gave Eleanor a big wink before I hit the street.
80
I opened the front door. An arctic breeze handed me a full body swat, shoved me back. ‘‘There’s a freaking blizzard going on out there!’’ I heaved the door shut before the abominable snowmen invaded.
Time to layer up.
Dean was at the far end of the hall, wearing a smirk. He’d come out to watch. Likewise, Singe, right there almost within smacking distance. Looking less smug because she hadn’t yet mastered that human trick.
‘‘Funny people. Somebody could’ve warned me. Came on kind of sudden, didn’t it?’’
Not really.
He was right. The signs had been there. I’d had other things on my mind. Still did, in fact.
I wondered what other things was doing right now. Showing her hand at home?
I did layer up, best I could. Then I went out into that mess, operating on the theory that I couldn’t get lost in a city where I’d lived all my life, and driven by a need to show somebody something. Who knows what.
It ought to be a good day to get stuff done. Shouldn’t be many people underfoot. I didn’t notice anyone watching. I didn’t smell anyone, either.
Mr. Jan was not distraught about his loaner coat. ‘‘No need to worry, Mr. Garrett. No need. It was crap, though I made it myself. I kept it because the man who ordered it never picked it up.’’ This while he was fitting my new coat. Which I just plain loved. ‘‘You satisfy his marker and I’ll say nothing.’’
‘‘How much?’’
He named a figure that disabused me of any suspicion that he might be a nice, honest, fair little old tailor. I protested. He told me, ‘‘I’m sorry you feel that way. Very well. I’ll put it back on the peg. Jokes may redeem it yet.’’
Can’t be many people who go by Jokes. There’s only one Saucerhead Tharpe. Probably only one Lurking Felhske. And couldn’t be more than one Jokes Leastor. Who expired of a surfeit of blood loss a couple years ago, after someone he didn’t know as well as he thought objected to one of his pranks.
Jokes Leastor was exactly the guy who would’ve had that clown coat made.
‘‘I’d better have mercy on you, Mr. Jan. Jokes won’t be coming back. Or, if he does, he won’t be needing a coat. Quite the opposite.’’
‘‘Has something happened to him?’’
‘‘He played one joke too many. He ended up room temperature. A while back, now.’’
‘‘I feared as much. He was slow but he did always get around to paying.’’
Face saved all round, we finished the fitting, I gave him his blood money, donned the remnants of Jokes’ sartorial declaration, then pointed my nose toward the big cold.
Mr. Jan said, ‘‘This should be done in two to three days. I’ll have a courier take it round to your place. Unless I need you to come back for some final measurements.’’
‘‘Excellent.’’
I returned to the white reflecting on the fact that in just days an old tailor had managed to find out where I lived.
I made a big mistake. I headed for The Palms. It was the nearest place where I could both get warm and be welcome. I should’ve headed for Playmate’s stable instead. That was almost as close. But Playmate is all boring and honest. Morley Dotes is crooked as a dog’s hind leg. And he’s involved in stuff that keeps me barking with curiosity.
81
Abominable men came out of the snowstorm, summoned by the dread melodies of silver whistles. They wore neither blue shirts nor red flop hats. And, as noted, their whistles weren’t made of tin.
So I never made it to The Palms, where my best pal could’ve told me all about his hopes and plans and schemes.
Nobody said a word. We all knew our roles. Somebody at the Al-Khar wanted to see me. Somebody at the Al-Khar knew how to find me in the middle of a snowstorm. So I was going to put my life on hold till I’d enjoyed a chat with that somebody.
One particular somebody was more likely than any other. He didn’t have his runners declare themselves with their headgear.
The runaround at the Al-Khar was abbreviated. That minikin Linton Suggs got me to Director Relway in jig time.
The Director was waiting. He wasn’t alone.
Colonel Block was there to assist. I didn’t know the third man. The deference he received suggested that he was Prince Rupert.The law and order fanatic in the royal household. He had a definite Relway-like gleam in his hard gray eyes.
Prince Rupert was just two failed hearts away from Karenta’s throne. And he might get there. Which might be good for the kingdom. He had strength. Karenta needs a strong ruler.
In this pecking order the low man was Deal Relway. Barring lower-than-gravel Garrett, of course, and the gawkers wandering past.
Relway started by asking questions obviously not his own.
He was no more happy than I, at the moment.
He is the most absolute realist I’ve ever met. He knows reality more intimately than he knows his own suite of perversions. He knows he can get anything he wants, and more, if he’s just patient and pliable when the right people are around. He knows that most people who matter agree with the Director of the Unpublished Committee for the Security of the Crown, whatever they offer for public consumption.
Deal Relway is what he needs to be. Patient. Clever. Deadly. Unacquainted with pity, conscience, or remorse. He may be TunFaire’s future. Nine of ten of the king’s subjects will be thrilled with the future Deal Relway wants to create.
And there I was. Before much got said, bemoaning—in all privacy, of course—the tyranny sure to come. The tyranny certain to make life more safe, secure, and comfortable for the nine of ten.
Inarguably, in a TunFaire run by Deal Relway, the only frightened people should be crooks. But the crook class would include anybody who didn’t like the way Deal Relway operated.
Relway stopped after a half hour of random questions, all of which I answered honestly. And which, frankly, left me puzzled because they didn’t have that much to do with what was going on. Then he and the prince became observers. Along with the ever-changing gallery. Colonel Block said, ‘‘You put us in a tight place this time, Garrett.’’
‘‘I’m gonna confess right up front, Colonel. I haven’t got any idea what you’re talking about.’’