“Nothing. Except to get in out of the rain. I’m headed somewhere else.”
“Why aren’t you home resting up for an evening of debauchery?”
“The Dead Man is awake.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
“You see? You’re forewarned. The only guy in this cesspool of a city who is. So don’t pass it along.”
“I said thank you. Want some tea? There’s water.” He never lacks for heat in the smithy.
“Sure. Hey. You have any idea what happened to Antik Oder, used to have a storefront down the street?”
“Aha! So now we get to it.”
“To what? The Dead Man wants a witch. Elderberry Whine kicked off when I wasn’t looking.”
Playmate made tea, his grin ivory in a mahogany sea. “Antik is still there. She isn’t what you’re looking for, though.”
“Why not?”
“She’s a fraud.”
I grunted, sipped tea. “There’s something in this.”
“I dribbled in a dollop of vanilla rum.”
I’m not big on hard liquor, but this was good. I rendered myself incapable of competent behavior in minutes.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Playmate isn’t the kind who lets friendship get in the way of business. Much. “Rain’s slowing down, Garrett. Time to move on.”
I’d told him most of what was happening, hoping he’d have a suggestion. I’d wasted my breath. He asked, “Where are you headed from here?”
“I don’t know. I’m thinking about crawling into the hayloft and grabbing forty winks.”
Playmate frowned. He thought I was scamming, but couldn’t figure my angle. “I guess it can’t hurt. But shouldn’t you show more ambition?”
“Ambition? About what?”
“Your job.”
“Why? There ain’t nobody paying me.”
He doesn’t stint the critters. The hay in the loft was first-rate. It retained enough sweet clover smell to remind me of idylls in country pastures.
He was wrong. The drizzle hadn’t slowed. It had grown into a steady rain. The rattle on the shingles overhead was a powerful soporific. Or maybe that was the rum.
I was gone in half a minute.
31
First I thought it was the change in the patter of the rain. Then I thought it was the cold. But the war taught me to wake up carefully and not to trust first impressions. I lay still, controlled my breathing, listened.
Playmate had company. That company wasn’t looking for a place to stash horses.
I moved glacially till I could see.
Teacher White was down there, safely distant from Playmate, not coming across half as fierce as he wanted. He looked more like a pretend bad guy.
Assisting Teacher were two wide-load no-necks who looked like they were from out of town. Plausible, given that Teacher had only a half dozen soldiers of his own, none heftier than Spider Webb or Skelington.
Teacher cautioned the wide bodies, “Careful. There’s more to the man than meets the eye.” Though I can’t imagine anybody underestimating Playmate.
Teacher told him, “There ain’t no need for nobody to get hurt, Play. All you-”
“There is, you come in here pushing me around.”
I steeled myself to jump in, though I suspected Playmate would be all right. The shoe might be on the other hoof. The bad guys might need help before the straw settled.
Playmate is all religious. He preaches turn the other cheek. But he takes an eye-for-an-eye attitude when it comes to professional scum.
Teacher asked, “Where’s Garrett?”
Playmate didn’t answer.
The wide loads moved in. Playmate met one with an invisibly fast straight jab to the schnoz that rocked the man’s head back like it was about to pop off its stump. He plopped down on his back of beyond with a stunned, goofy look.
The second thug took a punch to the chest. Pure amazement filled his face. This didn’t happen when you educated civilians.
Playmate collected a hammer. He showed it to Teacher White. Teacher took note. “Time to move along, boys.”
Good thing, too, because I was just about to jump down and make life really harsh for Teacher.
Then I saw what I would’ve jumped into.
Spider Webb and guys named Original Dick and Vernor Choke showed up to help the wide loads leave. They hadn’t made a sound there under the hayloft.
Vernor Choke had been born to his name. I didn’t know the story on Original Dick. I wouldn’t hang the moniker on anybody, but that didn’t mean his mother hadn’t.
I climbed down half a minute after Spider Webb exited, the last of the crew to leave.
Playmate observed, “Once again there’s proof that just knowing you is a bad idea.”
“What was that all about?”
“They’re looking for some guy named Garrett. Said they followed him here. They didn’t say why. They seemed pretty determined, though.”
I put on my best baffled face. Without faking. “I don’t get it. They’ve been following me around long enough to see that I can’t tell them what they want to know.”
“And what would that be, Garrett?”
“Huh? What would what be?”
“What do they want to know?”
“Well, hell!” I had no real idea. “Maybe just a closer look at my pretty face.”
They did know that I couldn’t find Chodo or Harvester. Didn’t they?
“Oh, sure. That’s got to be it, Garrett. How did that get past me?”
32
I gave Teacher and his crew fifteen minutes to hurry off to some far place where they could get out of the wet and forget harassing a handsome but ignorant investigator. Playmate supported my tactical view.
“I couldn’t figure out what they really wanted,” he admitted. “They changed stories three times. The bottom line, though, was that they really, really, really wanted to lay hands on a guy named Garrett.”
“Thanks for not giving me up.”
“Gratitude noted in the Book of for Whatever That’s Worth.”
“I am a handsome young man.”
“Duly noted in the Book of Natural Fertilizers. Why don’t you get out of here so I can get some work done?”
Some folks are obsessed with being productive.
“I can take a hint.” I left messages for Saucerhead and Winger, in case he saw them before they got the word somewhere else.
The rain wasn’t heavy, but it was steady. It wasn’t one to please the farmers. They want their soakers in the springtime.
A voice husked, “Garrett.”
I was a block from Playmate’s. I was hunched over, wishing I had a poncho. The ones we’d used in the islands hadn’t kept us dry, but they did keep us from being wounded by the larger raindrops.
“Spider.” I hit Webb alongside the head with my stick, then spun and got Original Dick in his namesake. I wove easily past a wide-eyed Vernor Choke, smacked Teacher White between the eyes, and slid behind him while he wobbled. My stick lay across his throat. I lifted him a little.
Spider leaned against a wall, trying not to get dragged under by a concussion. Original lay curled up on the cobblestones in a smear of his own puke, fighting for air. Choke put on a show of dancing around looking for an opening. Teacher complained, “You broke my nose! I got blood all over my new jacket!”
They hadn’t expected me to explode.
I hadn’t brought enough explosives. I whispered, “Teacher, how about you tell me why you guys keep dogging me?” Then the big boys responded to all the whining.
I popped Teacher again, from behind, with immense enthusiasm, then faked right and ran left, headed for Playmate’s place.
One of the brunos grabbed Vernor Choke and flung him like a bola. And Choke did the job, what with all those legs and arms trying to latch on to something as he flew by. I took several solid thumps before I got untangled. Seeing double, I had legs too watery to run.