Bitter Gold Hearts

______ XLI ______

I needed a sixteen-hour nap, but I devoured a roast chicken with trimmings and clowned a couple quarts of beer instead. I went into the Dead Man's den, being careful not to trample on the bodies, and tiptoed over to the shelves on the short north wall. Among the clutter I found a fine collection of maps. I dug out several and settled in my reserved chair.

I see you had a productive day.

He startled me. I hadn't known he was awake. But that's the sort of game he likes to play—sneak and scare. Near my heart I nurture a suspicion that malicious and capricious spirits are dead Loghyr disembodied.

I didn't answer immediately.

A productive day indeed. You are smugly certain you have a handle on everything and no longer need badger me to do your thinking for you. Just to be contrary—though that's probably what he wanted—I gave him a blow-by-blow of everything that had happened since my last report. He seemed amused by my having chewed Morley out. While I talked, I ran my right forefinger along lines on one of the maps, trying to visualize points of interest barely noticed in the real world.

Looking for a place someone unfamiliar with the territory might have felt safe squirreling a pile of gold when pressed for time?

"I'm thinking about going for a ride in the country tomorrow, maybe stopping to go swimming under a few bridges."

An interesting notion. Though you may never get to put it to the test.

"Why not?"

You still need me to explain to you the consequences of your actions? The Stormwarden Raver Styx was due home today. She should, in fact, have been home for some hours now. She should be howling at the moon. And who has had his nose deep into the thing, from several angles? Who is she going to drag in to answer questions right beside Domina Dount and the Baronet daPena?

I suppose that had been lounging around in the back of my mind, overshadowed by the puzzle. And maybe by a touch of gold fever. "Dean!"

He looked a bit exasperated when he stuck his head in. "Yes sir?"

"Don't answer the door tonight. I'll do it. In fact, why don't you go on home and put yourself out of harm's way? You haven't left for days. Maybe a few of your nieces have roped some men."

Dean smiled. "You aren't closing me out now, sir. I'll stay."

"It's your funeral."

As if conjured by the conversation, someone began pounding on the door. I went and peeked through the peephole. I didn't recognize any of the crowd, but they wore Raver Styx's colors. I shut the peephole and went for another beer.

Her men? the Dead Man asked when I returned.

"Yes." I turned to the maps again.

You ignore her at your peril.

Yours too, I thought. "I know what I'm doing."

You usually think you do. Occasionally you are correct.

I ignored him, too.

It wasn't ten minutes before someone else knocked. This time when I peeped I found Sadler on the stoop.

"Chodo said tell you what we come up with," he said when I opened the door, making no move to come inside. "We asked around, places. Somebody got word to her we were looking. She took off. Out of town. Nobody knows where she landed. We asked."

I'll bet they did.

"Chodo says tell you he still owes you the favor."

"Tell him I said thank you very much."

"I don't say much to civilians, Garrett. But you done all right down in Ogre Town. You maybe pulled us all out with your trick. So I'll tell you, don't waste that favor on nothing silly."

"Right."

He turned away and hiked. I shut the door and went back to the Dead Man.

Good advice, Garrett. A favor due from the kingpin is like a pound of gold squirreled away.

"I don't like it anyway. I just hope he stays alive long enough for me to collect." Kingpins have a habit of turning up dead almost as often as our kings do. It was quiet for an hour. So quiet I dozed off in my chair, the maps sliding out of my lap. The Dead Man awakened me with a sudden strong touch. Company again, Garrett. I heard the knocking as I tried to get the body parts moving in unison. When I peeked, I saw Morley on the stoop. He was alone. I opened up and he slipped inside. "I wake you?"

"Sort of. I thought you were going to crap out. What's up?"

"I just heard something I thought you should know. They found that guy Courter Slauce in an alley a couple streets from here. Somebody busted the back of his head in for him."

"What?" I tried to shake the groggies. "He's dead?"

"Like the proverbial wedge."

"Who did it?"

"How should I know?"

"This don't make sense. I have to get some tea or something. Wash the cobwebs out."

"For that you'll need the high water of the decade. Sometimes I think the only substance inside your head is the dust on the cobwebs."

"Ain't nothing will perk you up like a vote of confidence from your friends. Dean. Tea."

Dean had water on. He always does. He favors tea the way I favor beer. He brewed me a mug thick enough to slice. In the meantime, I asked Morley, "Did you keep anyone watching the Stormwarden's place?"

"For all the good it did. Till today."

"And?"

"There's no way to do a decent job when you spend eighty percent of your time dodging security patrols."

"They got nothing?"

"Zippo. Zilch. Zero. Armies could have marched in and out and they would have missed them."

"It was a long shot anyway. What about Pokey?"

"What about him? Why keep on him?"

"He might have trotted off to somebody interesting."

"You're grasping, Garrett. Pokey Pigotta? You're kidding."

"There's always a chance."

"There's a chance the world will end tomorrow. I'll give you fifty-to-one odds it does before Pokey Pigotta does something unprofessional."

"I don't want to hear bet or odds from you."

He gave me a narrow-eyed look. "I laid off you and your poisonous diet, Garrett. I laid off your self-destructive knight errantry. You lay off me. I'll go to hell in my own way."

"I don't care how you go to hell, Morley. That's your business. But every time you head out you throw a rope on me and try to drag me along."

"You feel that way about it, quit pulling me into your quests."

"I pay you to do a job. That's all I want done."

"Somebody ought to profit. If you're so damned lily pure, you're willing to get paid off in self-satisfaction for righting deadly wrongs—"

Dean interjected, "You kids want to whoop and holler and call each other names, why don't you take it out in the alley? Or at least get it out of my kitchen."

I was about to patiently explain again who owned that kitchen and who just worked there, when someone else came pounding on my door and hollering for me. "Saucerhead," I said, and headed that way. Morley followed me. I asked, "Who killed Slauce?"

"I told you I don't know. I heard he was dead. I came to tell you. I didn't go turn out his pockets to see if he left a note naming his killer."

I peeked through the peephole, just in case. I was in one of those moods.

Saucerhead, all right. And Amber. And several of the Stormwarden's men, including a couple who had been around before. I let Morley peek. "You want to be here for this?"

"No. I'm done. With you, with them, with the whole damned mess."

"Have it your way." I opened the door as Saucerhead wound up to start pounding again. Morley shoved out, grumbled a greeting. I said, "You two can come inside. The army stays where it is."