Cruel Zinc Melodies

88

Tinnie wasn’t home. An unhappy cousin told me she was at the manufactory. It was all my fault she was way behind. And now there was a rumor that the situation could get worse. She’d lost her grip on reality. Garrett could end up being underfoot all the time.

I couldn’t do anything about rumor and speculation amongst the Tates. Whatever I tried, I’d just equip myself with more holes dug deeper.

I took Kip along. He’d still been saying good night to Kyra when I got there. He didn’t want to leave. ‘‘I need you to make drawings and write up notes. Your contribution toward helping repay Mr. Weider for damages done by the Faction.’’

He really didn’t want to go. If he let Kyra get out of sight, she might come to her senses.

On the short walk over, I told him, ‘‘Don’t worry about the girl. Tate women are a pain in the ass sometimes but they stick once they make their minds up.’’

Which was what he wanted to hear. Though he had trouble believing it. His self-confidence was still shaky.

‘‘I know that only helps a little. Every day that I find Tinnie still in my life I count as another miracle. I’ve never worked out what she sees in me.’’

‘‘Makes two of us.’’ That was a shot, weakly delivered. I took it as a good sign.

I left him outside his personal workroom at the manufactory. It was big and full of toys for a boy genius who might spark additional money gushers.

It was cold in the building. The place didn’t get warm when manufacturing wasn’t going on. It wasn’t now. The weather had kept most of the workers home.

Which meant they were making too much money. In a labor market where replacements could be had by the hundred.

Ha! Thunk like a true capitalist!

‘‘Garrett! What are you doing here? Besides sneaking up and scaring the knickers off me?’’

‘‘Don’t look like I did that good a job. Why don’t I try charm instead?’’

‘‘I’m working hard on getting immune to that. I think I’ve almost got it. You didn’t answer my question.’’

‘‘I needed to see you. Not for the usual reasons.’’

The woman can read me good. One hard look and she knew something was wrong. ‘‘All right. Spill the bad news.’’

‘‘Well . . .’’ I wasn’t sure how to tell her without sounding like I was accusing her.

‘‘Out with it, Malsquando.’’ She wasn’t troubled. She’d concluded that the problem wasn’t between her and me.

‘‘Speak!’’

‘‘You’ll grant that Singe is pretty damned smart?’’

‘‘Singe is a freak. She scares me. She’s not just too smart for a ratperson, she’s too smart for anybody.’’

‘‘Good. We won’t need to debate that. So. Here’s the thing. She’s been studying the books, and . . .’’

‘‘And?’’ Eyes tight and narrow now. But still nothing to suggest that I’d tweaked a guilty nerve.

‘‘She found a problem with the financials from the manufactory.’’

Tinnie seemed surprised. ‘‘How so? What kind of problem? Tell me.’’

‘‘You might have to talk to her direct to really get it.’’ I jumped in, the best I understood what I’d been told.

I didn’t need to go on long. ‘‘Stop. Did she show you examples?’’

I told her what I’d seen.

Tinnie was an angry woman suddenly. With the fire under fierce control.

‘‘You believe me?’’

‘‘Of course I believe you! Why the hell would you make up a story like that? What I need to do now is figure out if it’s true, or if Singe’s imagination ran away with her. Go sit in the corner and don’t disturb me.’’

I couldn’t resist. ‘‘You mean I don’t get to lean over your shoulder, jostle your elbow, blow in your ear, and criticize while you’re trying to get some work done?’’

The black look I got for that actually scared me. No good for the goose, good for the gander in this house. But she was still in that fierce, hard, rational state of anger. ‘‘Better yet, go wander around and make the night crew nervous.’’

I didn’t need to watch over her shoulder. Not that having me there could stop her fudging anything she wanted. I wouldn’t notice.

‘‘I’ll do that.’’ I went. I made a tour of the shops. And won a full complement of growls and scowls from the few workers actually on hand. I counted the three-wheels in various stages of completion. Twenty-eight, total, of which eleven were ready for delivery. I grabbed one and went pedaling around the main floor.

After getting chewed out by a foreman who wasn’t impressed by my connections, I put the big, silly toy back and went upstairs to make Kip’s life miserable. But he didn’t mind the company. We talked for more than an hour, of cabbages, kings, vampires, zombies, and our respective female complications. He wouldn’t talk about Kevans or the compliance device, though.

I dropped a few seeds for thought. I hoped he wouldn’t be able to get them out of his head.

The boy was working the nerve up to go for some intimate advice when Tinnie stalked in, saving me the need to examine my conscience. I hoped she hadn’t heard anything troubling.

‘‘Singe is right, Garrett. Grab your coat. We’ll go down to your place. We can put our heads together.’’

She was tired and frayed and distracted. She knew what was going on and who was doing it and didn’t want it to be true.

It would be family. Tates are big on family. And, given that assumption, I could name the villain. Rose Tate, bad cousin.

It had been a long time since Rose had done anything wicked.

‘‘There’s a good chance Singe won’t still be up.’’

‘‘Then there’s a good chance I’ll wake her up. Or I’ll talk to her in the morning.’’

Oh boy! I left Kip with a parting smirk. Then I turned right back. ‘‘I need those drawings and papers to show Mr. Weider.’’

Kip gave them up reluctantly, and only because he knew I wouldn’t steal the ideas.

As we hit the cold and darkness, my sweetie asked, ‘‘What was that with Kip?’’

‘‘He came up with a couple ways to light the World without smelly lamps, candles, or torches.’’ Which meant the theater could operate any time, not just when the sun was available.

That wasn’t what Tinnie wanted to know. She suspected me of giving manly advice.

Singe was awake. And still worrying the problem that interested Tinnie. She’d made headway winkling out the wicked numbers. So I lost the redhead for a while. Dean, though, had turned in. I drew me a mug of beer and went into my little office.

A dragon. How do you deal with a dragon with any hope of avoiding calamity?