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"Back off," I told them. "Give him some air." He was past the worst. "Saucerhead, let Dellwood go, too."

Dellwood managed his exit with considerable dignity. I reflected on the fact that my pay, and Saucerhead's, and everyone else's, was likely being financed by his efforts. I glanced at Cook. She'd told me the old man didn't have a pot to pee in. Here he was, living on his principal without even realizing it.

Was some other helpful soul trying to salvage the estate by hurrying an incompetent, tightwad manager to his reward?

The General got himself under control. "I shan't thank you for what you've done, Mr. Garrett, though I asked for it. Dellwood. Where's Dellwood?"

"He's gone, sir."

"Get him back. He can't leave. What'll I do without him?"

"I have no thoughts on the subject, General. I think we've accomplished all we can here."

"Good. Yes. You're right. Leave me. But get Dellwood back here."

"Everybody out. Peters, you'd better stay. Kaid? Morley, Saucerhead, I want to talk to you." I scooted out first.

29

I caught Dellwood in his quarters. He hadn't bothered to close his door. He was stuffing things into bags. "Come to make sure I don't take the family jewels?"

"I came to tell you the old man wants you to stay."

"I've spent most of my life attending his wants. Enough is enough. It'll be a relief being my own man." He lied. "A man's loyalty will only stretch so far."

"You're upset. You did what you had to do and it brought you trouble. Nobody holds it against you. Not even me."

"Bull. He'll hold it against me the rest of his life. That's the kind of man he is. Whatever my reasons, I rubbed his nose in something. He doesn't forgive, no matter who was right."

"But—"

"I know him. Give me credit for that."

I did. "You walk, you lose everything."

"The bequest never meant much to me. I'm not poor, Mr. Garrett. I had few expenses while I was in service. I saved my money and I invested it well. I don't need his bequest to survive."

"Your choice." I didn't move.

He stopped throwing things into bags and looked at me. "What?"

"The General didn't just hire me to find out who was kyping the family trophies. He also wanted me to find out who's trying to kill him."

He sneered. "Kill him? Nobody's trying to kill him. That's just his imagination at work."

"So was theft when I arrived. Except to you. He was right about that and I think he's right about this."

"Bull. Who'd profit?"

"Good question. I don't think the estate has anything to do with it. I can't supply another motive, though. Yet." I looked at him expectantly. He didn't say anything.

"Any friction with anybody? Any time, ever?"

"I can't give you what you want, Mr. Garrett. We've all had our troubles with the General—none of them the kind you kill over. Matters of discipline, that's all."

"None of these people are inclined to hold grudges?"

"Chain. He's a big, stupid farm boy gone to fat at the hips and between the ears. He can hold a grudge forever, but he's never had one against the General. If you'll excuse me, sir?"

"Not yet. You've known this moment was coming since I got here, haven't you?"

"I wasn't surprised you found me out. I was startled that you found the man who bought from me. Will that be all?"

"No. Who killed Hawkes and Snake?"

"I wouldn't know. I expect you'll find out. You're a first-class finder-outer."

"It's what I do. You didn't perchance try to discourage me when you decided I could cause you trouble, did you?"

"Sir?"

"There have been three attempts on my life since I arrived. I wondered if you'd thought you could cover your tracks—"

"That's not my way. I made it through a Marine career without killing anyone. I have no intention of starting now. I told you, I have nothing to lose here."

Maybe. And maybe he was just a convincing liar.

I shrugged. "For what it's worth, I don't think you did wrong and I don't feel that proud of rooting you out."

"I bear you no ill will. You were only the agency by which the inevitable arrived. But I would like to get on the road before dark."

"You won't reconsider? I don't think the old man will last without you."

"Kaid can handle him. He should've been all along, anyway."

"Do you know who the blonde woman is?" He had nothing to lose by telling me now.

"A figment of your imagination, I suspect. There's no blonde woman here. No one but you has seen her."

"Bradon did. He painted her portrait."

That stopped him cold. "He did?"

"He did."

He believed me. He didn't get much push behind his "Snake was crazy."

I was pretty sure he knew nothing about any blonde. Which made her that much more interesting an enigma.

I moved out of the doorway, indicating he was free to go. I said, "You can't tell me anything that might keep somebody else from getting killed?"

"No. I'd tell you if I could."

He picked up his bags. I suggested, "Catch a ride with my associates when they go."

He wanted to tell me to go to hell. He didn't. "Thank you." It was raining and those bags were heavy.

I asked, "One more thing. What happened to Tyler and the draug from out front?"

"Ask Peters. I don't know. My duties confined me to the house."

"The draug that tried to get in the back isn't accounted for. It didn't go back to the swamp. Where could it hide out during the day?" Assuming, like story draugs, that it didn't dare hazard daylight.

"In the outbuildings. I really must go, Mr. Garrett."

"All right. Thanks for talking to me."

He headed out, back stick-straight, unapologetic. He'd done what had to be done. He wasn't ashamed. He wasn't going to be talked out of leaving, either.

Another one down, I reflected.

Now there were six heirs. The cut for the minority people was up near a half million apiece.

Morley, Saucerhead, and the doctor awaited me beside the fountain. I didn't approach in any hurry. I was trying to figure out how to launch a draug hunt.

Cook came out as Dellwood headed for the front door. They went into the entry hall arguing. She didn't want him to go, either.

30

I joined Morley and the others. "What's the verdict?"

Morley shrugged. "He didn't shake enough or have trouble enough talking for it to be what I thought. He show any of those symptoms earlier?"

"Some shaking. No real trouble talking. What about the fit?"

"I don't know. Ask the doc."

I did. He said, "I don't quite know. I should've had a closer look and a chance to interview the patient. But from where I stood it looked like you need an exorcist more than a doctor."

"A what?"

Morley was as startled as I was. I'd never seen his eyes bug before. The remark had caught him from the blind side.

"An exorcist. A demonologist. Maybe a necromancer. Possibly all three. Though the first step should be a physical exam to make sure I'm not imagining things."

"Start over. You've got me all turned around."

"Between us, Mr. Dotes and I have a comprehensive knowledge of poisons. We know of none that produce the combination of symptoms the man shows. Not without affecting him more dramatically, physically, leaving him unable to control his speech and extremities—if he stayed alive at all. Disease is more probable than poison. Who knows what he brought home? I spent eight years down there. I saw a lot of strange diseases, though nothing quite like this. Is he taking any medication?"

"Are you kidding? He'd die first." I had a thought. "How about malaria?" I'd been one lucky Marine. I'd never contracted malaria. "Or some kind of yellow fever?"