"Shape-changer?"
I'd run into one of those before. I didn't want to do that again. "How? Changers have to kill the people they mimic. Then they absorb their souls, or whatever. And even then they can't always fool people who knew them."
"Yes. And this one had me pat?"
"I was pretty damned tired. There was only one lamp burning. And I just walked through, not paying that much attention. But I'd have sworn it was you."
"I don't like this. It makes me nervous, Garrett. Real nervous."
Me too, yeah boy. All we needed was some villain prancing around able to pretend he was somebody else. That would complicate things real good.
Morley was just concerned about Morley Dotes, not everything else. He had troubles enough in life without having somebody else running around doing dirty deeds in his name and face.
I had a broader perspective on it. If somebody here could fake Morley, he could fake me or anybody else, any time. So none of us could ever be sure who we were dealing with. Which undermined the roots of reality. Some fun coming up.
Morley suggested, "You'd better get out while you still can."
I was tempted. Tempted like I've never been tempted before. But, "I can't. I took the job. If I quit because it's getting tough, it won't be that long before I find some good reason to drop another one. That happens a couple times and I won't get work at all."
He politely refrained from mentioning the fact that I spend most of my energy avoiding work. "Figured you'd say something like that. So. Let's get on with it. I want out of here even if you don't." He started up the final flight of stairs. "You drink much milk, Garrett?"
"No. Beer."
"I sort of figured."
"Why?" The others watched us like we were a road show.
"Not sure what it is about milk. But it's good for the teeth and bones and brain. A man who drinks milk always has a healthy sense of self-preservation. Beer guzzlers get increasingly feeble in that area."
He was dressing up a cautionary message as one of his crackpot dietary theories. That way it was easier to tell me he was afraid I was in way over my head.
Peters said, "I don't know what you're talking about, Garrett. I don't much care. But I do think we ought to get on with it." He stared at the glass at the rear of the house. The glow from the burning stable shone through. He looked like he wanted to rush off and get involved.
"Right. Go get the old man set." I stared at the firelight while the rest moved toward the General's suite.
"Garrett!"
"Coming."
I caught a glimpse of the blonde across the way, behind a pillar. She smiled and looked like she might wave back if I started it.
I growled and headed down the hall.
Her portrait was one I'd saved from the flames. I'd bring it in and ask some questions. And I was, by damn, going to get some answers.
I was getting tired of being nice.
28
Peters moved on into the deeps of the old man's suite. The rest of us waited in the study. I killed time by tossing logs on the fire and exchanging puzzled glances with Morley. Each of us wondered how much the other was pulling his leg.
The General arrived, bundled as though for an expedition to the Arctic. He looked at the fire, at me stirring it around so I could get a few more logs on, beamed approval. "Thank you, Mr. Garrett. Thoughtful of you." He surveyed the crowd. "Who are these people?"
"Mr. Morley Dotes, restaurateur and an associate of mine." Morley gave him a nod.
"Indeed?" The old man seemed startled, like maybe he knew the name. He looked at me hard, reconsidering his estimate of me.
I said, "You've met Mr. Tharpe. The other gentlemen prefer to remain anonymous, but they've agreed to point out your thief."
"Oh." A hollow sound, that. Faced by the imminence, he wasn't that anxious to know. I recalled his instructions: don't let him evade the truth. He asked, "Where are the others?"
I told Peters to get them. He didn't move till the General agreed. I said, "They're out trying to contain a fire somebody set in the stable."
"A fire? Arson?" He was confused.
The doc and Morley studied him intently.
"Yes, sir. Near as I can figure, whoever killed Bradon was afraid something in the stable could connect him with the murder. The place had been searched. Whoever did it probably thought he didn't have time to do it right so he took second best."
"Oh." Again that hollow sound.
I walked over to the door, peeked out. Nothing out there. "Saucerhead, want to warn us when the mob comes?"
He grunted, came over. I whispered, "Did you rehearse those two?"
He grunted again. He didn't have time to explain. I had to trust his judgment. "General, shall I take the position I did last time? Mr. Tharpe and Mr. Dotes can hold the door."
"I suppose. I suppose." As the fire grew and threw more light, I saw that his color was as bad as it had been the other day.
I took my place. A few minutes later Saucerhead announced, "People coming."
"Let them in but don't let them back out."
"Check."
The doctor retreated into a corner. So did the fence. Morley moved to the side of the door opposite Saucerhead.
They came in looking tired and wary and dispirited. They looked at Morley and Saucerhead like they all thought they'd been caught doing something. Even Peters, and he knew what was happening.
The General said, "Mr. Garrett has some news."
Mr. Garrett looked at the fence. So did Mr. Tharpe, glowering like the man wouldn't get out of the house alive if he didn't point a finger.
He didn't have to. The bad boy gave himself away.
I said, "Somebody's been stealing doodads from around here, about twenty thousand marks' worth. The General wanted to know who. Now we know that, Dellwood. I'm curious why."
He took it pretty well. Maybe he'd figured that being found out was inevitable. "To meet household expenses. There was no other way to raise the money."
The General sputtered through a bad case of not wanting to face the truth. He ranted. His people kept blank faces but I got the feeling their sympathies didn't lie with their employer.
For one second I entertained the possibility that they all wanted to do him in.
Dellwood persisted, "The General provides funds suitable for maintaining a household of ten at the time he left for the Cantard. He won't believe that prices have risen since then. Not one copper has gone into my pocket. Not one has been spent needlessly. Our suppliers refused to extend further credit."
Must be hell to be rich and broke.
The General managed, "You might have told me instead of subjecting me to this humiliation."
"I told you repeatedly, sir. For two years I told you. You had your eyes firmly fixed on the past. You refused to believe that times have changed. I had the choice of doing what I did or allowing you to be hounded by creditors. I chose to shield you. I'll collect my things now." He turned to the door.
Saucerhead and Morley blocked his way. I asked, "General?"
The old man didn't say anything.
"For what it's worth, sir, I believe he's telling the truth."
"Are you calling me a miser?"
"I said nothing of the sort. But you do have that reputation." I was piqued. I've never gone out of my way to cuddle up to a client—of the male persuasion, anyway.
He sputtered some more.
Then he had one of his fits.
For a moment I thought it was a ploy. The others did, too. Maybe he'd cried wolf a few times. Everybody just looked till it was over. Then they all moved in, tripping over each other. I gave Saucerhead the signal to turn the fence loose.
Dellwood led the charge. Nobody hung back. Which did not bode well for my hope that breaking one of the cases within the case would start everything unravelling.