Gilded Latten Bones

77

Jon Salvation turned up first, glowing. He shook my hand. "I don't know what you did, Garrett, but, thank you, thank you, thank you."

"All right. Good for me. What are you talking about?"

"Tinnie. She's going to take the part. She turned up for first readings this morning. She was an angel. And she nailed her character first try. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Any time. But do me a favor. Tell her my dividend is late. Way late."

"Eleven days late!" Singe said, managing a fierce growl.

"All right. I'll pass it on. To business. The Dead Man asked me to talk to people I know about who holds the deed to the warehouse where they were making zombies. The owner is Constance Algarda, better known as Shadowslinger."

"Wasn't she one of the people the Bellman killed when. .? No. I remember now. He busted her up but she lived."

"I report, sir. I don't do analysis. If she's dead she still manages to be active in the real estate world. She owns other properties around town. I brought a list." He produced it. Singe snagged it, began copying it to make sure the information got put away safe before I could contrive to lose or destroy it.

Salvation added, "Just as a bit of practical information, I wasn't the only one asking questions. People from the Palace, people from the Guard, and some scary-looking people off the Hill all poked into the same stuff before I did."

"That might not be good."

"You think?"

"There's something else you could do to help. You being uniquely qualified." I explained the costume angle.

"I can handle that. Easy. I have a big lever. We need lots of costumes and sets for The Faerie Queene."

I couldn't tell the man he wasn't half the waste of human flesh that I'd always thought. But I could think it and maybe he could sense it.

Singe finished copying the list. She handed the copy to her brother. John Stretch scanned it, took a drink, bobbed his head, and left the room with Singe right behind. He was less under the weather than I thought, and more literate.

Singe returned, began making another copy. I asked, "When did he learn to read?"

"While you were away. He's slow and he has trouble with script but he understands that literacy is the most useful skill you can have in life."

"What's he going to do with that list?"

"Have his people sniff around."

"He'll need to be careful if those others are doing the same thing."

"Give the dumb rat some credit, Garrett. He heard. He'll be careful-in the unlikely event that anybody does notice ratpeople."

Ouch! She was in a mood again. But she had a point.

"I understand. Now tell me something. What are you so busy writing all the time? You can't possibly need to do that much bookkeeping."

"I keep a record of everything that happens to us."

Odd. That sounded like one of those truths that have more than one face. Like a carefully crafted answer kept on the shelf for the moment when the inevitable question arose.

Jon Salvation chuckled. He knew something.

Of course he did. The past few weeks even kids like Crush and Kyra knew more than me about almost everything.

"Jon, about the girl who was here the other night."

"Crush?"

"Yeah. She's a good kid."

Singe made a whuffing sound, maybe startled.

"I'm sure she is. And I wasn't at my best."

I showed him a raised eyebrow.

"It's so frustrating. They all have the same dumb questions. Which they can't articulate because they're starstruck. I try to remember that their questions seem unique to them. But I'm not used to all this. Sometimes I lose patience."

I gawked. I asked Singe, "What did they do with my friend the Remora?"

He laughed. "People change when the earth shifts under their feet, Garrett. I'm not Pilsuds Vilchik anymore. Nor the Remora-though that has had a hard downside for Winger. I'm all Jon Salvation, now. Which isn't always a great thing, even though Jon Salvation is living the fantasy that rocked Pilsuds Vilchik to sleep every night."

All I could say was, "Wow!" But I kept it to myself.

He said, "I'll do something to make it up to Crush."

I got all daddy.

Singe made a noise before I said anything.

My little Hellbore was a working girl with ample experience looking out for herself.

Salvation promised, "I'll be the perfect gentleman."

I must have looked skeptical.

"I am aware of her background, Garrett. Though I'd never bring it up. If she pretends to be a lady I'll pretend to be a gentleman."

Singe left her desk. "You're both sentimental, idiot romantics in a world where only pragmatists survive."

She left the room.

I said, "I just wanted something nice for Crush that she could have without having to lie down. She's a good-hearted kid. She deserves a minute when she doesn't have to be a whore."

The famous playwright gave me a goofy grin and a thumb up. "I've got it. But I'll need some help since we're going to pretend that all I know about her is that she's a cute teenager."