“Does he know who you are? Would he recognize you?”
Another nod, but not entirely confident.
A scheme began to stir in the shadowed rat’s nest of my mind.
“I can take you there.”
She seemed honestly excited-till she realized that I must want to take her home. Her pallor returned. She looked ready to bolt.
How carefully had she studied us before she swooped down on Dean?
“When did you come to the city?” I asked.
“Uh… months and months ago. Right after the war was over.”
She was a kid. Kids don’t pay attention to anything that don’t have them at its center. Which I say based on personal experience. I used to be a kid. “So A-Laf’s people arrived after you did. They came looking for you?”
“No. They didn’t know about me. They thought the Luck had been destroyed. They wouldn’t have found out, either, if I didn’t get caught spying on them.”
“Is it me you’re afraid of? Or my partner?” I asked after she began to relax, thinking she’d changed the subject.
Tinnie, I noted, was quite interested in the answer.
Her suspicions abide in a realm distinct from mine. She thinks any female within stone’s throw will fall under my spell.
Yeah. Right.
I hear tell a rich fantasy life is a good thing.
Again, yeah, right. “Tinnie will always be right there, ready to jump in between us.”
That earned me an evil glare from my honeycomb.
“It’s not you. I learned how to handle men in the temple.”
“That’s good to hear.” Tinnie didn’t relax a bit. “So why be worried about my associate? Did Dean hand you one of his tall tales? Old Bones is harmless. Like a big old stuffed bear.”
Tinnie managed a straight face. But Penny wasn’t buying. “I know what he is.”
I considered telling her the Dead Man wouldn’t get into her head uninvited. But he’d tried already. “What secrets can a girl your age have that would embarrass a four-hundred-fifty-year-old Loghyr? What do you have to lose? If it has to do with those weird cats, he already knows.” If he did, though, he hadn’t told me.
“Uh… no. It’s just too personal. It’d be like rape.”
I’ve never felt that way. Most people don’t. Still, some might.
“Your father is at my house. It isn’t likely he’ll leave soon.”
You could see her emotions warring. Cynical old Garrett wondered if she was acting. Cynical old Garrett suspected that Penny no longer needed to connect with Chodo. Her problems with A-Laf had been resolved, at least locally.
Block and Relway wouldn’t let the cultists resume their wicked ways-particularly now they were known to be part of a criminal enterprise.
I told Tinnie, “Talk to her. She won’t trust anything I say.”
“About?”
“Having a chat with my sidekick. Colonel Block and Director Relway will need all the ammunition they can get when friends of the Tersizes intercede for them and their immigrant pals.”
The Tersizes had high connections, forged during generations of war. As did the Tates. But the Tates found legal new ways to make money. Some of which float my boat a little higher.
Tinnie said, “Leave us alone. We’ll talk.”
“Don’t tell her too many lies about me.” I eased round the bed. I could raid the kitchen during my exile.
Tinnie read my mind, in her own special way. “You stay right there in the hall. I don’t want you around Rose or Kyra.”
Rose would be Tinnie’s evil cousin. The black ewe of the family. I hadn’t seen her for a while. I hadn’t missed her, either.
I slid into the hallway, commenced to amuse myself working heavy math problems. Two times two is four. Four times four is… uh… sixteen! Sixteen times sixteen is… uh… well, enough of that stuff.
Later, hovering at the brink of some huge intellectual breakthrough, I got porlocked. Tinnie yelled, “Garrett! Get your homely tail back in here.” I got. Too much thinking is scary. “We have a deal. Let me get dressed. Then we’ll head for your place.”
“You sure? You up to it?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, boy. Let me get my fingers loosened up and I’ll help.”
“Back in the hall, daydreamer. Penny can help. We’re still talking.”
I went back out. I tried to remember what my great breakthrough would’ve been, worried about Tinnie’s health some, then wondered how she’d gotten to the kid.
69
I went in first, delivered Tinnie’s message. Which was that she wanted to come have a sit-down about the need to leave Penny’s head alone if she came to see us.
The Dead Man agreed. He granted every wish. Even before Tinnie finished laying out the terms. Suspicious. I know my fairy tales.
Chodo had supplanted the deacon as favored loafing place for the cat population. He had about two dozen splashed all over him. And seemed pleased. Unlike the deacon, he smiled. Sort of. His eyes tracked. His mind was active. He managed enough expression to approve my choice in women when Tinnie stalked in. He didn’t seem able to move anything else.
“Made any headway?” I asked the Dead Man.
Some. But a saber-tooth never stops being a tiger.
“The deacon seems subdued.”
He is in an induced coma. He is strong and stubborn. He refuses to accept defeat. He fights on despite no longer having anything to protect.
“So what great secrets did you ferret out?”
Chodo watched me move around. He watched Tinnie, too. Hungrily. Creepily. She shuddered.
Little of direct use. His compatriots mean to conquer the world, purportedly for the greater glory of their god, but in reality because they like being rulers instead of the ruled. He was a dastard and a crook before he converted. He remains a dastard and a crook. He was, in fact, one of Mr. Contague’s significant associates inside A-Laf’s cult. Today, either would happily sell the other’s soul to get out of this house.
“And you wonder why the Goddamn Parrot made his getaway.”
Iam fully cognizant of the facts in that matter, Garrett. I note that Miss Tate accomplished what you considered impossible.
Miss Tate had that look people get when the Dead Man starts rooting around inside their heads. It’s a cross between pants-wetting terror and severe constipation.
“Penny has issues with men. But she’s desperate to see Chodo.”
Excellent. We can accommodate her. He is ready.
“Are you?” I checked Chodo. He seemed close to human, buried in kittens. Almost the Chodo of old.
Ioffer my most sincere bond. I will not enter the girl’s mind unless she asks me in.
I asked Tinnie, “Can you make her believe that?”
“Is it true?”
“His word’s always been good, far as I know.”
“A ringing endorsement for sure.”
Singe came in with a bunch of paper. “Do we have any more paper? I don’t have enough to finish this report.”
“Huh?”
“What we have for the Colonel. From our guests.”
“Hmm.” Interesting. “We?”
“That poisoner. Kolda. He is in the small front room, recording what the Dead Man wants put into writing.” Facing the Dead Man, she added, “He needs rest. His penmanship is becoming unreadable.”
“Kolda’s been here all the time?” I wasn’t sure why I thought he’d left while I was out. Maybe my frugal side was hoping I’d shed a hungry mouth.
Tinnie interjected, “Don’t we have something more pressing to deal with?”
“So go get her, my treasure. Work your wiles on somebody who don’t wear pants.” I turned to the Dead Man. “You have Kolda jot down anything from Mr. Temisk or his best pal?” I was thinking maybe we now had us a record of where the other bodies were buried. That could be handier than a wagonful of spades.