Glen Cook - Red Iron Nights

Being no fool, Morley went his own way. I found Captain Block the last place I expected, at the bachelor officers' quarters at the barracks the Watch shares with the local army garrison. Those troops are less use than the Watch, coming out for nothing but ceremonies and to stand guard at various royal edifices.

I got the usual runaround trying to reach Block, but it had no heart in it. Maybe he'd left word a certain battered old Marine might want to get hold of him sometime.

He was dressing when I walked in and started dripping on his carpet. "I take it you've got something, Garrett." For the life of me I couldn't figure why he wasn't thrilled to see me, just because it was after midnight.

"I found your man."

"Huh?" Dumbstruck is really amazing on a naturally dumbfounded face.

"That villain you wanted found? The fellow who entertained himself by whittling on pretty girls? If you want him, I've got him."

"Uh... yeah?" He didn't believe me yet.

"Put your slicker on, Cap. I've had me a long, hard day and I want to get on home."

"You found him?"

Ta-da! First thing you knew, he'd figure it out. "Yep. But you'd better get rolling if you want to cash in."

"Yeah. Sure." He was in a daze. He couldn't believe this. For a moment I entertained suspicions. They didn't get too rowdy. "But how? I had a thousand men looking. They never caught a whiff."

"Didn't know where to sniff. You get the nose when you have to make your living at it."

"Sounds like you plain got lucky."

"Luck helps."

"Should I bring some men?"

"You won't need them. They won't give you any trouble."

Must have been an edge to my voice. He looked me askance but was too shocked still to pursue it. He shrugged into an army overcloak, jammed a waterproof hat onto his head. "You don't know how much we appreciate this, Garrett."

"I have my suspicions. Just show me by making sure you don't forget to drop my fee off at my place."

"What?" He managed to look affronted. Somebody had the audacity to question the integrity of the Watch? "You think we'd screw you?"

"The gods forfend. Me? Think a thing like that about our brave Watchmen? Surely you jest, Captain."

He heard the sarcasm and didn't like it, but had become too excited to take offense. Hell, he took off like the proverbial bat, dashing boldly into the night and rain—till he realized he didn't know where the hell he was headed.

"I'm moving as fast as I can, Captain," I told him. And I was. I did want to get home. I had big ambitions in the night lumber trade. "I put in about two thousand miles of legwork today, tracking these monsters down."

"Monsters? There's more than one?"

The man didn't listen. I shook my head. He fell into step beside me, as bouncy as a five-year-old.

"One more than one, Captain. The big villain was a guy about a thousand years old who was some kind of wizard. The other was your basic street bruno, middle thirties."

"Was?" Now he sounded nervous, even wary. "You keep saying ‘was.' "

"You'll see."

He saw. He was less than thrilled. "Did you have to kill them?" He stared at the old man like he hoped the crazy bastard would rise from the dead.

"No. I could've let them kill me. But then you'd still be looking, wouldn't you?" I stared at the old man, rattled. Block didn't notice.

First, the old boy had crawled to the garden door before he'd checked out. Then he'd gotten naked. What there was of him was so dried up it looked like something had sucked out everything inside his skin. That skin was dead white. I wondered if maybe he wouldn't rise from the dead. If he hadn't already, a time or two. Then I shook off the fit of superstition and concentrated on a problem that was real and immediate.

Someone had been into the coach house in my absence. Somebody who had stripped the dead man and had ripped off a crazy miscellany from the tack and tool racks. That smelled of a crime of opportunity committed by some down-and-out amateur. By someone who had seen a door open, had darted in for a nervous peek, had taken what he could use, and had grabbed everything else he could carry that looked like it might sell for enough to make a down payment on a bottle of cheap red wine. Was I to go a-hunting this thief, I'd keep an eye peeled for a short, skinny wino all cocked up in a new suit of old clothes, complete with one of those absurd deerstalker hats.

Block complained, "Would've had a lot more impact if I'd been able to bring them to trial."

"I don't doubt it a bit. It would've been a circus. The show of the year. I would've loved to have seen it. But he was belching butterflies and staring green fire and getting ready to lay some serious sorcery on me. I couldn't talk him out of it. Come on. Let me show you some evidence."

I led him to the kitchen, showed him the bucket. I wanted to show him the knives but they weren't where I'd seen them last. That damned Morley, collecting souvenirs. I felt more comfortable in the house now that I had an officer of the law along to explain to the local custodians. I took time to look around more carefully. I didn't see anything new. "You satisfied?"

"I expect." He held up a big glass jar Morley and I had overlooked. It contained a human heart in a clear fluid. "I'll have my people come take the place apart."

"You know who owns it?"

"I know. Ironic coincidence. There won't be any problems, though. The Prince is determined. He'll just be doubly pissed because somebody dared. He'll breathe fire."

I chuckled. "You're welcome to collect the kudos, Captain. I don't want his kind noticing me. Just see that I get paid. Then you're happy, I'm happy, and TunFaire is happy soon as word gets out. Now, unless you insist on my help, I'm dragging my weary ass home and putting it to bed."

"Go ahead," he said distractedly. "And, Garrett?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. You'll get your money. And I'll still owe you for this miracle."

"There you go." I got me out of there while the getting was good.

The Dead Man was still doing interviews when I got home. There were people in with him and people waiting in the small front room. Dean was doing a shift on the door. I gave him my most malicious smile and sneered. "Now you know what it feels like to be up at an absurd hour." I made a quick sally into the small front room in search of feline game but did not find my prey. Dean eyed me nervously and kept his mouth shut.

Excellent, I thought as I trudged upstairs. First thing in the morning we'd have a talk about that cat.

First thing in the morning, I didn't talk to Dean at all. About cats, anyway. He rolled me out at some absurd hour before noon, told me, "His Nibs wants you in his room. I'll bring your breakfast there."

I groaned and rolled over.

Dean didn't bother with the usual roust. That should have warned me. But it was morning. Who thinks in the morning? I just grumped some ill-placed gratitude in the general direction of heaven and burrowed into my pillow.

Bugs started chewing on me.

Felt like bugs biting, anyway. When I started flopping and swatting and cussing and digging around, I couldn't find a thing. But the nibbling kept on keeping on.

It was morning. It took me a while to figure it. Old Dean hadn't salted my bed with insects. The Dead Man was prodding me.

Still cussing and dancing and swatting, I pried myself out of bed. That part of my mind that was working duly noted the discovery of a hitherto unsuspected aspect of my partner. He would persecute his allies as readily as his enemies.

Though my eyes only pretended to be open and my legs rebelled at every step, I made it downstairs without suffering any disaster. I stumbled into the Dead Man's room and dropped into my chair, weakly looking around for something I could use to start a fire as soon as I got the ambition.