“Why? Why hate the Lethways?”
Tamar shook her head. “Something about the Army. Father was in the same regiment, the last two years of the War. He used to rail about what an incompetent officer Lethway was whenever the name came up. But isn’t that what soldiers do? Hate their commanders?”
“Universally. But I can’t recall half their names. Seems like your Father knew Lethway well. Did they serve together directly?”
“No. Dad was a cook. Lethway was a Colonel.”
“Why indeed. All right. Your father hates all things Lethway, and he was none too thrilled when you decided to take their name. But there’s something else, isn’t there?”
“I hope not.” Even Mr. Tibbles had the sense to fall quiet. “But one morning I came in early. We weren’t open yet, didn’t even have the ovens ready. But there was a man with Dad, and they stopped talking when I came in, and the man left. Dad seemed angry, but he said it was a tax collector trying to double-dip.”
“Go on.”
“Later that day, Mother mentioned something about the wedding and Dad threw a plate of coffee cups against the wall. I had my back turned, Mr. Markhat, but I knew he didn’t just drop them. It was so loud. And his expression was so angry. Mr. Markhat-do you think they asked for money, and Father said no?”
I put my hand on hers. Mr. Tibbles bared his teeth, but I bared mine back and he wisely let it go.
“If he did say no, Miss, that was the right thing to do. It might even buy us time.”
“But-”
“You can bet they visited Lethway too. And you can bet he didn’t turn them down. They were just taking the chance they could double their profit without any extra work, Miss. That’s all. I’m sure Carris didn’t suffer for it. If it happened at all.”
“Why would Father do such a thing?”
“He’s watching out for you, Miss. Please don’t forget that. And for Heaven’s sake please don’t go accusing him of anything. This is assumption. It’s probably not even true.”
“You think it is. Tell me you don’t.”
“I think it’s possible. That’s all. And it doesn’t much matter, unless it helps me learn who’s making the demands.”
“Will you ask Father?”
“When the time is right. At the moment, he’d probably show me the underside of his boots. I’m not very popular with him right now either.”
Tamar laughed a sad little laugh. “Is Father going to hate all the men in my life, forever?”
“He sure will. Often with reason. But that’s just the way of the world, Miss. Like you said, men are funny.”
“I suppose. So. What’s next?”
“I meet with your future father-in-law tonight. See what I can shake loose.”
“Isn’t that dangerous? Going around after Curfew, I mean?”
“Vampires never bite finders, Miss. We taste of sunlight and purity.”
She laughed. “I see why Darla likes you. She does, you know. When are you going to set a date? You’re already engaged. You haven’t been kidnapped.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” I rose, remembering pressing appointments elsewhere. “I’ll find you tomorrow.”
“How about lunch, right here?”
I shook my head. “It’ll be much later. Where will you be at quitting time?”
“Home. Come around to the back yard. I’ll be in the garden, unless it’s raining.”
I tipped my hat. Mr. Tibbles awoke and yapped at me, his little-rat teeth bared and menacing.
I did indeed have errands to run. I took a pair of cabs hither and yon, and was down to my last silver half-crown by the time I made it home.
My door beckoned. Beyond it lay a bed, of sorts, and some peace and quiet. I had strong suspicions I wouldn’t see much of either for a while.
But I’d left Mama saddled with a miniature Sprang, and though the Hoogas still stood watch on her doors, I decided I’d better poke my head in and at least make sure Mama and Gertriss hadn’t started wrestling yet.
The Hoogas greeted me with ogre eye-dips, and I managed to ascertain that they’d bashed no heads that day. I listened, didn’t hear screeching, and knocked.
Mama came to the door and peeked through the crack.
“Boy,” she whispered. “I’ve got this lot to sleep. Keep your voice down.”
I slipped inside.
Mama had every candle she owned lit and smoking. The aroma was thick and floral. I gagged and made a face.
Mama handed me a wet rag. “Put this under your nose, else you’ll get sleepy too.”
I shoved it over my mouth. It had no odor, but it did render the candle-scent far less potent.
“Mama?”
“All that yellin’ and screamin’ was upsettin’ my nerves,” she whispered. “Sounded like a war in here. Even got Buttercup riled, and she nearly cut loose with one of them howls of hers. I didn’t have no choice.”
“Who was screaming?”
“That Sprang child. Screaming bloody murder. I ain’t never heard the like, boy.”
“He wasn’t making a sound when I left him here.”
“Well, he got good and loud after you left. Hollerin’ for his daddy. Hollerin’ for his brothers. Hollerin’ as loud as he could and fightin’ and clawin’ for all he was worth.”
“What set him off?”
Mama sighed. “Boy, I just don’t know. I set him down with a bowl of soup-good soup, mind ye-and Gertriss wiped his face off and I put a spoon in his fool Sprang hand. And then he went to screamin’ and fightin’. Had to get a Hooga to snatch him up and put him in a bed.”
“He was out all night. Maybe something he saw scared him out of his wits?”
“Sprangs ain’t born with much in the way of wits. But maybe, boy. I tell you I just don’t know. But something ain’t right with that child.”
“You mean aside from being a Sprang.”
“That’s what I means. I ain’t sure yet. But I’m brewing up a special hex, boy. Something that ought to let me see if’n mine ain’t the only hex riding this here child.”
I forgot and lowered my rag.
“You think the kid is ensorcelled? Mama, what the Hell. He’s just a bumpkin kid.”
Mama pushed my rag back up under my nose.
“I don’t know nothing of the sort. Yet. I’m just sayin’ I think I smells a hex. On a child. I tell you this, boy-if somebody has hexed that there baby I’m goin’ to have their gizzard in a bag, and no mistake.”
“What kind of hex, Mama?”
“I won’t know nothin’ ’til I’m done, boy.”
“When will that be?”
“Not ’til after mornin’.”
I cussed.
“Listen, boy, what else am I supposed to do? I gots a banshee and a hexed devil-child and a headstrong niece all under my roof at once. They was about to tear the walls down. You ain’t here to help.”
“No, I’m out trying to resolve this mess. Which I’ve got a start on.” I showed Mama the papers from the Judiciary. “Going to get them out first thing in the morning.”
Mama muttered. It was neither flattering nor supportive.
“Thanks, Mama. How long can you keep them asleep?”
“The young ’un, all day and all night. Gertriss and Buttercup will be stirrin’ any minute now. You’d best git, unless you want a good earful from your partner about how she ought to be out and about and so forth.”
I stood. Mama glared up at me.
“I’ll be out most of the night. Tell Gertriss not to worry.”
Mama just grunted. I got out of there before anyone awoke and resumed howling bloody murder.
Chapter Eight
I hoofed it back to my office after a conversation with Mr. Bull. I took off my shoes and laid out fresh socks and a shirt. Then I fed Three-leg and enjoyed a two-hour nap. I didn’t waste any time pondering who’d hexed the Sprang’s youngest urchin, or why-the night would hold far more pressing perils, and even those I shoved aside.
So I did manage to doze until Mr. Bull began to pound on my door at the appointed hour.
“I’m up,” I yelled. The pounding ceased, and his shadow fell away from my door.