Red Iron Nights

53

Captain Block caught me during my chat with Barking Dog. He looked less like a Watchman than ever, though he was well-dressed. His henchmen, too, were trading uniforms for street clothing. Apparel had become a statement. Those who shed the red and blue meant to take their work seriously. The rest would become unemployed if Prince Rupert gained control of the city's police powers.

"How's it going?" Block asked. He ignored Amato. Barking Dog pretended Block was invisible. It was a good working arrangement.

"I've got a story. Sort of. It's not as clear as I'd like. It won't be much use. The documentation is all of the we-did-this-and-that, this-woman-got-killed, so-did-that-one, we-caught-the-villain-and-hanged-him-and-buried-him-where-he-fell variety. Not a hint how to control the curse.

"Back then the curse didn't migrate from villain to villain the way it does now. It didn't get the chance. I think the people involved understood it better. And it wasn't as sophisticated as it is now. And the local wizards weren't always out of town. The job wasn't just up to the Watch.

"Before the second killing round ended, everybody knew they were dealing with an accursed man who'd opened the grave of the first killer." And we, as brilliant as our forebears, had gotten that far too. Hooray.

"They didn't do anything about it?"

"Sure. They hanged a man and buried him where they thought he wouldn't be found. They were wrong. I'm no expert on sorcery, but I'll bet this curse has some kind of summons built in that calls till somebody hears it and sets it free. Smarter and nastier than it's ever been before."

Block mused, "And today we can't do anything about it even if we want. We don't have anyone who can neutralize it. Because of the war."

Yep. All our real badass wizards were in the Cantard.

"What about your end?" I asked. You never know. He or his boys might have tripped over Winchell.

"Not a trace. We'll have to trap him. It's set. The girl goes back to work tonight. She skips tomorrow night, works the next two nights. The extra one is in case he can hold off for a day. Your partner says he wouldn't move two days early."

I didn't think Winchell would be dumb enough to go where he was expected at all.

Block continued, "The only people in the place not part of the cover team will be Hullar, the dwarf, and three girls Hullar trusts with his life. There won't be no way Winchell can get to her. If he has to do it, he'll have to take the bait."

If he had to have either Candy or Belinda. But I wasn't the least bit confident that Winchell wouldn't find other victims. Unless his girl luck was as bad as mine.

I didn't criticize. The Dead Man had scoped out this plan. He termed it his martial-arts approach. We would lay back and let the curse betray itself. I've already mentioned his plan's obvious weaknesses.

"Just suppose he gives it a skip and takes second best."

"The minute we find a body, we're on his trail. Spike's hired the best ratman trackers in town. They're on call. In fact, he's got them wandering around in case they cross Winchell's track by chance."

When everything you can do isn't enough, you do whatever you can. Give Block that. This time he was giving a hundred percent.

He asked, "You identify the sorcerer responsible?"

"Only to a probability. It goes way back. Farther than we thought. There's still some stuff I need translated before I can say for sure, though."

"Goddamnit, say something for unsure."

"Hey, temper. The oldest depositions, first time there were killings, mention a Drachir Nevets. I checked with a historian. He'd never heard of a Drachir Nevets but he did know about a Lopata Drachir of Nevetska, a real shadowy old-time superwizard who was always into it with a sorcerer named Lubbock Candide. Drachir's forte seems to have been writing curses so complicated that nobody could escape them."

Block grunted, thought a moment, amazed me by knowing the names. He was better educated than I'd suspected. "Why this particular curse? Any hints?"

"More shadowy stuff. Candide had a daughter."

"Arachne."

"Right. A major ass-kicker herself. Unless the translator was yanking my leg, both Drachir and Candide were out to win her favors and found a dynasty of witch-kings. Arachne decided she'd rather snuggle up with daddy, which pissed Drachir off mightily. Which, I'm guessing, led him to send a curse after her."

"All that would have been way, way before the first killings."

"Yeah. I'm thinking maybe that wasn't the real first time around, only the first that got recorded."

"Like maybe Arachne deflected the curse earlier and buried it and didn't tell anybody."

"Maybe." The man could think when he wanted. "It might be useful to find out if there are any extant portraits of Drachir and the Candides. Especially Arachne."

Block grunted. He wore a faraway look. "This just won't be settled the easy way, will it?"

"Not hardly." Heavens, the things I was going to have to talk over with the Dead Man. And him not in a charitable mood because the news from the Cantard had such a lull-before-the-storm feel. "Speaking of things not settling easily, without making a big to-do, catch a look at the guy watching us from up where the old ladies do their temperance thing."

Block looked. "Chodo's man Crask."

"Bingo. I'm going to trust you with something." Barking Dog had gone back to work early, not wanting to be close to a minion of his oppressors. No one would hear.

"The other girl at my place. Belinda. Her full name is Belinda Contague. As in the daughter of Chodo Contague. She's hiding out with me because Crask and Sadler want to kill her."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because they did something to Chodo. Poisoned him or something. I've seen him." What the hell? Everybody lies to the police. "He's a vegetable. They just pretend he's giving the orders. Belinda knows that, which is why they want to get rid of her."

"I think I missed something, Garrett."

"Belinda can take them down. They have to cover their scam or lose control. I got into it because they wanted to hire me to find her for them."

"A girl who happens to be one of the main targets of our killer?"

That had been a problem for me, briefly. "I thought it was one damned long coincidence till I realized I was looking at it from the wrong end. From the end where we are, chasing Winchell. Look at it coming the other way. The thing between Belinda and Crask and them has been going on for months. The girl-killer thing is just something she stumbled into going somewhere else. She wouldn't have been involved at all if the other thing hadn't made her run away from home. Chance brought me into it at one point rather than another, sooner than later. The players had me chalked in for their game."

Block looked uncomfortable. "How come you're telling me? It ain't healthy knowing too much about Chodo's business."

"Because there's a very large and nasty man up there giving me very evil looks. He's unhappy because I haven't been busting my butt trying to find Belinda instead of noodling around with some who-cares serial-killing thing. As I recall, I'm supposed to call on the Watch if it can give me a hand. Not to mention that you might get a kick out of poking a stick into the eye of an evildoer of Crask's stature, knowing he doesn't really have Chodo behind him."

"Tell you the truth, Garrett, I think getting Crask off the street is a grand idea." He snarled it, setting off alarms. What had I done? "But I don't have much confidence in it being a healthy idea. What's he doing?"

"Glaring daggers. Probably thinking how nice it will be to drag me somewhere where he can do dental work on me."

"Why?"

"The girl. He doesn't know she's staying at my place. He hasn't seen me lift a finger to find her. Despite my having been told very plainly that it would be in my best interest to do so."

"You're sure Chodo's out of it?"

"Absolutely."

"Then maybe I'll have some fun with Crask. But don't expect a lot. These people always have friends in high places."

"How well I know," I muttered.

Block winked. "Have a nice day." He strolled away, looking thoughtful, leaving me beached and sputtering.

I did notice that he had friends in the crowd, mostly his auxiliaries. He'd begun to enjoy his role as honest Watchman. I wondered if he'd started turning all bribes away or only the most embarrassing ones.

I hoped the New Order thing didn't go to his head. Truly there can be such a thing as too much law and order—though I can't foresee TunFaire ever suffering from that.

I bade a soft farewell to Barking Dog. He was on a roll, did not have time to set his brass megaphone down. He indicated his latest report on himself. I snagged it and moved away, awaited Crask.