Glen Cook - Cruel Zinc Melodies

‘‘Makes two of us.’’ That was a shot, weakly delivered. I took it as a good sign.

I left him outside his personal workroom at the manufactory. It was big and full of toys for a boy genius who might spark additional money gushers.

It was cold in the building. The place didn’t get warm when manufacturing wasn’t going on. It wasn’t now. The weather had kept most of the workers home.

Which meant they were making too much money. In a labor market where replacements could be had by the hundred.

Ha! Thunk like a true capitalist!

‘‘Garrett! What are you doing here? Besides sneaking up and scaring the knickers off me?’’

‘‘Don’t look like I did that good a job. Why don’t I try charm instead?’’

‘‘I’m working hard on getting immune to that. I think I’ve almost got it. You didn’t answer my question.’’

‘‘I needed to see you. Not for the usual reasons.’’

The woman can read me good. One hard look and she knew something was wrong. ‘‘All right. Spill the bad news.’’

‘‘Well . . .’’ I wasn’t sure how to tell her without sounding like I was accusing her.

‘‘Out with it, Malsquando.’’ She wasn’t troubled. She’d concluded that the problem wasn’t between her and me.

‘‘Speak!’’

‘‘You’ll grant that Singe is pretty damned smart?’’

‘‘Singe is a freak. She scares me. She’s not just too smart for a ratperson, she’s too smart for anybody.’’

‘‘Good. We won’t need to debate that. So. Here’s the thing. She’s been studying the books, and . . .’’

‘‘And?’’ Eyes tight and narrow now. But still nothing to suggest that I’d tweaked a guilty nerve.

‘‘She found a problem with the financials from the manufactory.’’

Tinnie seemed surprised. ‘‘How so? What kind of problem? Tell me.’’

‘‘You might have to talk to her direct to really get it.’’ I jumped in, the best I understood what I’d been told.

I didn’t need to go on long. ‘‘Stop. Did she show you examples?’’

I told her what I’d seen.

Tinnie was an angry woman suddenly. With the fire under fierce control.

‘‘You believe me?’’

‘‘Of course I believe you! Why the hell would you make up a story like that? What I need to do now is figure out if it’s true, or if Singe’s imagination ran away with her. Go sit in the corner and don’t disturb me.’’

I couldn’t resist. ‘‘You mean I don’t get to lean over your shoulder, jostle your elbow, blow in your ear, and criticize while you’re trying to get some work done?’’

The black look I got for that actually scared me. No good for the goose, good for the gander in this house. But she was still in that fierce, hard, rational state of anger. ‘‘Better yet, go wander around and make the night crew nervous.’’

I didn’t need to watch over her shoulder. Not that having me there could stop her fudging anything she wanted. I wouldn’t notice.

‘‘I’ll do that.’’ I went. I made a tour of the shops. And won a full complement of growls and scowls from the few workers actually on hand. I counted the three-wheels in various stages of completion. Twenty-eight, total, of which eleven were ready for delivery. I grabbed one and went pedaling around the main floor.

After getting chewed out by a foreman who wasn’t impressed by my connections, I put the big, silly toy back and went upstairs to make Kip’s life miserable. But he didn’t mind the company. We talked for more than an hour, of cabbages, kings, vampires, zombies, and our respective female complications. He wouldn’t talk about Kevans or the compliance device, though.

I dropped a few seeds for thought. I hoped he wouldn’t be able to get them out of his head.

The boy was working the nerve up to go for some intimate advice when Tinnie stalked in, saving me the need to examine my conscience. I hoped she hadn’t heard anything troubling.

‘‘Singe is right, Garrett. Grab your coat. We’ll go down to your place. We can put our heads together.’’

She was tired and frayed and distracted. She knew what was going on and who was doing it and didn’t want it to be true.

It would be family. Tates are big on family. And, given that assumption, I could name the villain. Rose Tate, bad cousin.

It had been a long time since Rose had done anything wicked.

‘‘There’s a good chance Singe won’t still be up.’’

‘‘Then there’s a good chance I’ll wake her up. Or I’ll talk to her in the morning.’’

Oh boy! I left Kip with a parting smirk. Then I turned right back. ‘‘I need those drawings and papers to show Mr. Weider.’’

Kip gave them up reluctantly, and only because he knew I wouldn’t steal the ideas.

As we hit the cold and darkness, my sweetie asked, ‘‘What was that with Kip?’’

‘‘He came up with a couple ways to light the World without smelly lamps, candles, or torches.’’ Which meant the theater could operate any time, not just when the sun was available.

That wasn’t what Tinnie wanted to know. She suspected me of giving manly advice.

Singe was awake. And still worrying the problem that interested Tinnie. She’d made headway winkling out the wicked numbers. So I lost the redhead for a while. Dean, though, had turned in. I drew me a mug of beer and went into my little office.

A dragon. How do you deal with a dragon with any hope of avoiding calamity?

Singe wakened us. ‘‘John Stretch is on his way. So is Playmate. Joe Kerr and his siblings will do your shoveling for you. You’d better hurry if you want breakfast before we go.»

Tinnie wouldn’t let me out of bed.

Breakfast had to wait.

No one else dillydallied. John Stretch, his rats, his henchrats, and his transportation all failed to wait. Dean’s lips were pursed in abiding disapproval when we finally reached the kitchen.

He had been good enough to keep our breakfasts warm.

Tinnie didn’t eat much. ‘‘I have to show my uncles.’’ She waved papers copied from Singe’s collection. ‘‘My copies. We made them before we went to bed.’’

I’d already been dead asleep. She hadn’t wakened me. ‘‘Copies?’’

‘‘This got past me, Garrett. Maybe because I didn’t want to see it. It took a ratgirl to notice. I know you. You’ll tell Max. I want to be there. To try to explain. To intercede, if I can.’’

Intercede? The Tates would keep rescuing Rose till she scuttled them all. Yes. Max was fond of Tinnie. She stifled Alyx’s worst impulses. Her presence might soften his rage enough for me to make my case. ‘‘All right. Good on you.’’

See me before you leave.

I headed for the Dead Man’s room.

Singe intercepted me. ‘‘You are going to see Mr. Weider?’’

‘‘It’s got to be done. I thought you went with your brother.’’

‘‘I had paperwork. I would like to come with you. To explain.’’

I started to tell her that wouldn’t be necessary.

The Dead Man stroked my mind with a feather’s touch of warning. ‘‘Sure. It’ll be more convincing from somebody who can add up two times three. They don’t think I can count past my fingers and toes.’’

The redhead said, ‘‘Lucky you’ve got those extra toes.’’

‘‘What extra . . . ?’’ I went to see what Old Bones wanted. That was a fast review of everything, especially what he’d learned last night, and what he’d have Penny Dreadful poking into today. He had work for Winger and the Remora, too. If I stumbled across them. They seemed to have disappeared. They were supposed to be looking out for Kip and Kyra but hadn’t been anywhere in sight last night.