Deadly Quicksilver Lies

61

A long, hard day, and not yet done. I had aches where plenty of people don't have places. I'd walked too many miles and had been thumped too many times. Hell, this was like the bad old days when the Dead Man made sure I got no rest at all.

I told myself I would make one last stop, then I would hang it up for the day. Then I groaned. I recalled my arrangement with Morley.

Not Winger on top of everything else. Why had I done that?

Good soldier, I soldiered on.

I wondered what bean-brained civilian had come up with that one. Every soldier I ever knew never moved a muscle unless that was the final option.

I sensed trouble long before I hove in sight of Wixon and White. That end of town was silent with the silence that bubbles around immediate, terrible violence.

The moment passed. The ghouls were gathering when I reached the storefront, panting over the bloody wreckage.

One look and I knew smart money would choose putting one set of toes in front of the other and repeating the process briskly. In my case, while facing in a southeasterly direction. But I just had to take a fast look around the shop.

Colonel Block banished his henchmen with a wave. "Cheer up, Garrett. It's all straightened out now."

"Must be an echo in here." Not to mention way too much sunlight. The stuff flooded in through an open, eastern window casement at gale force. It was way too early for any reasonable man to be upright. Block obviously wasn't reasonable. Tell the truth, I wasn't feeling real reasonable myself. "We've got to stop meeting like this."

"Wasn't my idea, Garrett. You enjoy your accommodations?"

I'd spent a too-short night on a straw pallet in a stinking cell in the Al-Khar, charged with being a possible witness. "The fleas and lice and bedbugs enjoyed my visit." They should feel right at home. Block was a dirty dog.

"This is where you tell me why my men found you right in the middle of another massacre."

"Somebody yelled for help and your gang actually showed up. I was amazed." The old Watch would have headed the other direction, just to make sure nobody got hurt that didn't need hurting. "Thought you said it was all straightened out."

"I meant I know you didn't slice anybody into cold cuts. Witness says you showed after the screaming stopped. I want to know why what happened happened. And how come you were there."

"Grange Cleaver."

"That's it?" He waited for me to say more. I didn't. "I see no connection. Maybe you'll enlighten me. Meantime, you should know it looks like some really nasty black magic did the killing."

I nodded, but I didn't believe it. "That's what doesn't make sense." Someone made it look like magical murder. I was willing to bet Robin and Penny had kept their appointment with doom through the agency of a devil named Cleaver, once again trying to point a false finger at Marengo North English. Made me think Emerald Jenn was holed up with North English and Cleaver wanted to bust her loose.

"Why do I got a feeling you're being too cooperative, Garrett?"

"What? Now what the hell do you want? I answer your questions, you get aggravated. I don't answer them, you get aggravated. If I wanted aggravation, I'd stay home and argue with the Dead Man."

"You're answering questions, but I got a hunch you aren't telling me what I want to know."

I took a deep breath. We were about set for one of those ferocious head-butting sessions so gratifying to men of our respective professions. I exhaled...

An ugly little breed stormed in. He scowled at me like I had no right to be cluttering up Block's office. I nodded. "Relway." He didn't respond.

"It's started," he told Block.

"Damn them." Block lost all interest in bugs as small as me. Must be fatter victims available somewhere else. He glared at me, though. "The Call." He stalked after his secret police chief, who was gone already. "Get out of here. And try not to stumble over any more bodies."

Good advice all. Maybe he wasn't a complete dunce.

What was that about The Call?

Didn't take long to find out. I hit the street. Off east, looking like it might not be rooted far from my place, was a growing tree of smoke. I caught snatches of news from people rushing through the streets.

A bar brawl had turned into major racial trouble. Humans were going after centaurs. Apparently, it hadn't gotten out of hand till somebody in The Call had served up an inflammatory diatribe and people had responded by firing the homes of centaur immigrants. Other species were becoming involved. There had been some kind of deadly guerrilla battle in the scaffolding festooning the Bledsoe. They were losing ground getting the hospital repaired.

The insanity had begun. I hoped Block and Relway could contain it. At least this time.

There would be other times. And they would get worse before they got better.

People were going to get polarized real soon now.

I walked carefully. And went about it visible to anyone who might have a tracking spell laid on me.