Whispering Nickel Idols

57

First thing I noticed-after I stopped whining about the cold-was that Penny Dreadful was no longer across the street. “I hope she found someplace that’s warm.”

“She’ll be all right,” Saucerhead told me.

“You in this with Dean now?”

“Tinnie took her home. On account of she was half frozen. She was killing herself.”

We went on over past The Palms, where Morley’s troops lurked behind a down comforter hung in place of the door. He showed me the seared hardware. “Not much to see, is there?”

“There is a stench of all evil unleashed,” Singe said. She breathed in little puffs, the way I would do around a badly blown carcass. When Puddle came out I told him how to get hold of Mr. Mulclar. “He’ll cut you a discount if you tell him I referred you.”

“That’s exciting,” Morley said. “Why am I suspicious of your generosity? Why do I think you’re straining to keep a straight face?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

If Mr. Mulclar hadn’t changed his diet… heh, heh, heh.

Morley stayed with us. It was a short half mile on to the Bledsoe. It was getting light. The scaffolding outside the hospital was clotted with ice and snow. An incessant drizzle had no luck washing them away. The scaffolding seemed abandoned. The mortar boats were gone. Any bricks that hadn’t been set had walked away. I was surprised the scaffolding hadn’t disappeared.

“Armed guards,” Saucerhead said. I didn’t see any. He told me, “You want to, grab on to something that ain’t yours.”

“I take it you know who’s on the job.”

“They’re Watch guys picking up a little extra on their own time. I would’ve done it myself if I wasn’t already helping you.”

“Who’s paying them?”

Tharpe shrugged. He didn’t know. And probably didn’t care.

We entered the hospital unchallenged. Morley said, “I’ll see what I can find out.” One weak lamp burned ahead. Its light was enough to show us an unfamiliar woman at the reception desk. She was delighted to see Morley. His earlier conquest must’ve talked.

“I cannot come in here!” Singe told me suddenly, after not having spoken since we left home, except to whine about her tail dragging in the slush.

“Nobody will give you any crap.”

“That is not the problem. The problem is the air. It is thick with madness. I cannot endure it.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve thought of that. Mr. Tharpe. Would you stay with Singe? In case some moron gets obnoxious?”

Tharpe grunted. He and Singe went back outside. Morley turned on the charm spigot. I headed for Buy Claxton’s suite. And got there without seeing another human being.

I wasn’t surprised. This was the Bledsoe, warehouse for the sickest of the poorest of the poor and craziest of the crazies. Their dying place.

Some crazies were venting madness right now.

Buy Claxton was awake. She was knitting by candlelight. A dead flower in a clay pot stood on a stand with the candle. She remembered me. She didn’t seem surprised to see me. “See what the lady sent me?” She indicated the flower, uncommon for the season.

“The lady?”

“Miss Contague. She’s quite thoughtful for a woman of her position.”

“She has her moments.”

“Did she send you to see how I’m doing?”

A small fib wouldn’t be entirely misplaced. “And to see if we can’t find out what happened, now that you’re feeling better.”

Mrs. Claxton put her knitting aside, teary-eyed. She controlled herself. “I’m no widow, you know. And I have two sons and three daughters. My Ethan died in the Cantard. He’d be your age. He’s the only one with a good reason for not visiting.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Some people are thoughtless. Especially family.”

“I’ll bet you’re good to your mother.”

“My mother is gone. I did try when she was still with us.” But I’ve been a louse since then. I haven’t visited her grave in years. “But let’s not be sadder than we need to be. Not here.”

“That would be sound thinking, young man. How can I help?”

“It’s the fire. I’m supposed to find out what happened.”

“I don’t know. It just happened. It hurt! Bad.” She smiled weakly.

“I can tell you this, Mrs. Claxton…”

“Call me Buy.”

“Yes, ma’am. You might not have noticed because you weren’t looking for it, but that didn’t just happen. There must’ve been something leading up. So I want to go over the whole evening with you. Why were you there in the first place? You didn’t work for the caterer.”

“No. For Mr. Hartwell.”

“Is that the Mr. Hartwell who manages the Contague estate?” A man I’d never trusted. A slimy type. But I couldn’t imagine him stealing from the Contagues.

“His son. Armondy. He asked me to help set up, do kitchen work, and clean up afterward.”

“So it wasn’t odd that you were there?”

“No. I don’t think.”

“Interesting. When did you get there? Did anything unusual happen when you did?”

“A little after noon. There wasn’t anything to do then. The unusual thing was that I caught on fire and almost burned to death.” She ranted about her husband and children. I let her vent the anger.

“Who did you report to when you arrived?”

“When they finally showed up, them fancy boys. I just hung out till they got there.”

“I met them. They were in charge?”

“They wanted to think. They were decorators. They were there to arrange the tables and chairs. I only paid attention if what they said made sense. No. I took my orders from Mr. Temisk. I knew him from years back.”

“Harvester Temisk?”

“That’s the one.”

“So Mr. Temisk was there. Early. In the back.” I hadn’t known that. Nobody had mentioned seeing Temisk.

“Where I first run into him was in the pantries. I don’t know why he was back there. Looking for lamp oil, he said. Since I seen some in the kitchen, brung by the fancy boys, I showed him where I seen it.”

“What about Miss Contague? When did she show?”

Mrs. Claxton confirmed my suspicions. “She was already there when I got there. With her bodyguards. Checking for trouble, I guess.”

“Mr. Temisk wanted lamp oil? Why?”

“Well, he took out this little wood box and shook this green, flaky stuff in the oil and shook the jars. He said it was incense. He had me fill the lamps to go on the tables.”

This didn’t look good for Harvester Temisk. “Then what?”

“I don’t know. Then he went away. I didn’t see him again. I worked around the kitchen. Oh. And Mr.Temisk gave me this little jade pin. For being so helpful, he said.“

Didn’t look good for Temisk at all. “This flake stuff. Did any get spilled? Or miss getting into the lamp oil?” If it was what I suspected, it got tracked around by an unwitting rat.

Mrs. Claxton considered. “Come to think, he did fumble the lid of the box when he started to spice up the first oil jar. He cussed something awful. Because the spice was so expensive, he said.”

Yes. No doubt. We talked a while, mainly about her sad family. I didn’t learn anything useful. “Did anyone else see Mr. Temisk?”

“I don’t know. I never seen no one else around.”

“Did you see the lady’s father? Chodo Contague?”

“Well, no. But he musta been there somewhere, eh?”

Temisk’s timing had been amazing if he’d been missed by my pixies and rats. Although there hadn’t been any reason for them to watch for him and no reason for them to recognize him if they did see him. A guy named Garrett was the only one who needed to miss him. Plus Chodo’s beloved only child and a few underbosses, the latter of whom had no reason to visit the kitchens.

This was beginning to look like a huge, ugly Harvester Temisk murder scheme piggybacked onto whatever plot Belinda was running. Which meant that Temisk used me from the start.

Everybody’s schemes disintegrated in the chaos inside Whitefield Hall.

I’d have some hard questions for lawyer boy when I caught him.

“Thank you, Mrs. Claxton. Do you want me to check on your family?”

“Thank you, young man, but no. I’ll handle them myself. I will get out of here someday.”

“I hope so. You keep that attitude, it won’t be long.”