Uh-oh. He was being polite. That’s never a good sign.
You will find yourself dealing with the Watch if you do not cease dallying immediately.
Now he was seriously impatient.
With cause. We were about to be visited by Captain Ramey List and his shadows. Both henchmen now wore complete new uniforms.
I got in and closed the door. Old Bones told me, Something big is happening. Captain List is the only body the Watch can spare for a stakeout.
“There’ll be a big dance with the Outfit. Going on already, I think. Because of the material we provided.” I had to get a copy to Belinda still. I’d been too sick or too busy to figure out how. “Did you pry anything useful out of our guests?”
Absolutely. I understand much of it now. It all ties together through the people involved. None of whom are pulling in the same traces. But I see that residual weakness is about to bring on a collapse. Take a nap.
“I can last awhile. With your help.”
Ido not have the attention to spare. Mr. Tharpe is injured. We will not be able to get a physician past the Watch anytime soon.
I let it drop. You can’t win with Butterbutt. And fatigue was about to overwhelm me.
Captain List hammered on the front door. He bellowed nonsense that would amuse the neighbors. His best effort was embarrassingly feeble compared with those of the Green Pants guys.
“I’ll just park it in my chair. You need to know what I got from Buy Claxton. Poke around when you get time.”
Vaguely, as I drifted off, I heard Saucerhead groan.
The Dead Man couldn’t read my mind and control Tharpe’s pain, both. He must have been using all his mind power to control the Ymberians and deal with Captain List. List’s essential nature would make him try to win himself a name.
I slept.
63
I wakened. There was something in the air. Cooking smells. And a girlie fragrance suggesting something tastier.
Something tastier arrived with a steaming tray.
Clearly, Captain List had gone away.
An agent from the Unpublished Committee came. Captain List was needed for a secret assignment that could be handled only by one of the top members of the Watch. Director Relway and Colonel Block were tangled up in obligations they could not shed. It was critical that this assignment be handled immediately.
I chuckled. “And he took the bait. Along with the hook, the line, and the pole.”
He did.
“I love it.” I felt good despite my fresh collection of bruises. “It’s got to be something that will end up with Ramey List embarrassed in a big way.”
The possibility bubbled in the back of Mr. Scithe’s mind.
I gave Tinnie a peck on the cheek and a suggestive leer a foot to the south, then prepared to pile into an equally beautiful omelet. “I thought you had what I had, darling.”
“I do some. But mostly I was just tired.”
But I think it more likely that Captain List will die an heroic death.
“Really? Do they hate him that much?”
Mr. Scithe came on behalf of Director Relway, not Colonel Block. Mr. Relway, you may have noted, has simple, direct ways of handling personnel problems. This time because he sees an opportunity to end a threat to the Watch.
“Morley and Relway ought to be pals. They think a lot alike.”
One would murder the other within hours. That sort of personality does not tolerate itself well in others.
He was right, of course. “What do we know now that we didn’t know yesterday?” I gave Harvester Temisk the fisheye. He remained terrified. Chodo appeared to be napping. Even guys in wheelchairs need to sleep.
We know the Bledsoe drew the Ymberians to TunFaire. The Bledsoe is the mother lode of despair. Their nickel idols accumulate despair. The idols they installed in the Bledsoe walls are connected by sorcery to smaller companion pieces in their headquarters. Which always has been that place where you found Mr. Temisk and Mr. Contague. They plan to scatter the charged idols in areas where they intend to proselytize. You found one of the smaller sort on our guest deacon. The intent is to broadcast oppressive despair — which the priests of A-Laf will dispel, inside their temples.
“I see. And those wouldn’t be located where the prospects don’t come equipped with plenty of money.”
Truly, you are possessed of a deep, humming streak of cynicism.
“Am I right?”
Probably more so than you think. When the cult of A-Laf fell into the hands of fundamentalists — aided by Mr. Contague, remember — the brains in charge were not motivated entirely by spiritual fervor. Mr. Contague worked hard to install his allies. Nevertheless, they did not join forces with Mr. Contague — though, as we know now, they helped advance his career by eliminating human obstacles. Eventually, the Ymberian end forgot its connection with the TunFaire underworld, except at the most shy level.
“Until they came to town, eh?” A baby cat bounced into my lap.
The kitten put its paws on the little table by my tray. He sniffed. And eased his nose ever closer to my plate. Never glancing back like he might actually need permission. Like, “I am the cat. The cat rules. All else exists to attend the cat.”
The little tyrant hadn’t gained an ounce since his arrival.
The kits have realized that the scary men are harmless. For the moment. They are incurable optimists. They cannot remain frightened long. The optimism of A-Lat is a major contributing cause of its conflict with A-Laf. Which might seem unusual, A-Lat being the Queen of the Night. But that does not make her a dark goddess in all her aspects. Her principal aspect is the feminine. Be that as it may, it is not our concern. We must concentrate on those problems that have caught us in their web.
“Go,” I said. I pushed the cat aside. He paid no attention. He went right back to sticking his nose in my plate.
Some weeks ago Mr. Temisk became aware of the arrival of the A-Laf cultists. They, of course, were unaware of Mr. Contague’s state. Knowing the balance of obligation tilted toward Mr. Contague, Mr. Temisk contacted Ymberians. He invoked their obligation, as he did yours. The cultists knew him as the interlocutor for Mr. Contague, so he continued in that role.
“How did he kill all those people? And why?”
Ah. Now it becomes convolute.
“Uh-oh. That’s what you hear when somebody is fixing to make an excuse for somebody.” I couldn’t imagine him doing that for anybody but himself, though.
We are not amused.
“Leave that alone.” I flicked the kitten’s nose.
“Don’t do that.” Tinnie snapped. She’d come to check my tea. Carrying a tray. I was buying breakfast for my guests.
“We’ve got to figure a way to make money out of this, Old Bones. I’m feeding half the city.”
We will profit. Though perhaps not in cash money.
“No chickens. No moldy bread. No spoiled sausage. No skunky beer. I don’t take payment in kind anymore.” As I raised my teacup, I spied a glint in Chodo’s eye. He was awake. “Where were we?”
Iwas about to inform you that circumstances surrounding the deaths of those who burned are more complicated than it would appear. Mr. Temisk is, indeed, responsible. But was not, at first, aware that he was responsible. However, once he understood that there was a connection between the fires and his visits to Mr. Contague, he remained willing to send personalities like Mr. Billy Mul Tima to their ends.