Whispering Nickel Idols (8 page)

“Why?”

“Because it’s a lovely back.”

“You’re full of shit. But I like it. I think.”

Moments later, Melondie Kadare sneered, “It’s such a lovely back? Could you be any more lame?”

“I wasn’t at my best. I was distracted. I had a big-ass bug buzzing in my ear. And a lovely back to contemplate.”

Miss Kadare bit me on the aforementioned ear. “You’re lucky I’m not your size.”

15

The celebration got started. It rolled along just fine. Night fell. Morley’s waitstaff fired the floating wicks of globular little oil lamps at each place at table. They poured wine, TunFaire Gold, the best rotted grape juice in the world. The bad guys settled themselves and sucked it down. They got happier by the minute. The majority seemed amazed to find themselves having a good time. But whenever somebody cracked a dirty punch line the astonishment went away for a minute.

I was surprised by the number of guests. Not only the underbosses and their lieutenants had shown, but so had Squint Vrolet, Spider Webb, and dozens of other foot soldiers of little consequence.

No matter. Everyone seemed pleased to honor their empress. The fun grew more exuberant without growing rowdier. Louder without getting physical. Food came. More wine flowed. And a whole orchestra of alarm horns hooted and tooted in the paranoid cellars of my mind.

Of the gathering I was alone in not swilling wine. I have no taste for spoiled grape. I’m a beer, ale, mead, and stout man. Though the stout brewers tend to shovel in too much mud.

A baffled Morley Dotes observed from the door of the passage to the kitchen. More drink than food was coming out now.

Would tonight turn out like evenings in the old-time valhalls, where the thane’s men drank themselves unconscious and collapsed on the straw-strewn floors? In their own puke. Among the household livestock and table waste.

No straw here. Darn.

Up front, Saucerhead and his crew had scorned the demon grape, too.

My rat and pixie friends did not immediately fall under the influence, either, though not for lack of trying. I heard Melondie Kadare bitching because the biggies were tracking every ounce of TunFaire Gold. The cheap-ass bastards.

I left my table and drifted over to Morley. “What do you think, old buddy?”

Dotes murmured, “If you know anything, you’re two legs up on me. It’s like one of those temples where they smoke and drink to get closer to God.”

“Yeah. They’ll bring out the accordions any minute. Meantime, what the hell is happening?”

“All I know is, I had to send out for more wine. Look at them. They’re completely messed up.”

“So the bloodshed we imagined don’t look like it’s going to happen. How are we fixed for Relway alerts?”

This gathering would be a wet dream come true for Relway’s crowd. So how come they weren’t all over outside?

“Don’t worry about them,” Morley said. “Worry about what Belinda still has in her trick sack. All this happy might be part of her scheme.”

Our hostess was being kittenishly cheerful with the top goombahs — with a kitten in her lap. But … “She hasn’t been drinking.” I nudged a cat away from my foot. “That’s a new shoe, hair ball.” Then, “Think she put something in the wine?”

“No. I bought it. From vendors she wouldn’t know. It isn’t the wine. If it was that, they’d be cutting each other’s throats.”

Right. No one was immune, drinking or not. “It’s in the air. The wine just makes it worse.”

“Picture the possibilities if dancing girls came in.”

“Put the old emperors to shame. Look. Even Belinda isn’t immune.”

Miss Contague loosed a blast of cackling laughter. She slapped Rory Sculdyte on the back. Rory bellowed his own hilarity.

Rory Sculdyte was the man most likely to treat Belinda to a dip in the river wearing iron swimwear. Rory knew in his secret heart that he had been cheated of his birthright when Chodo took over.

I told Morley, “You better get back to work. ’Cause here she comes.” Morley did. And Belinda did. I

told her, “You need to laugh more, woman. You’re more attractive when you laugh.”

“And when I don’t?”

“You’re still attractive, he admitted reluctantly because it blunted his point.”

“Tell me something, old friend. Why am I having fun?”

“If I knew, I’d get my business partners to come bottle it.”

“Seriously, Garrett.”

“Seriously, Contague. Maybe somebody put wormwood in the wine casks. You saying it’s not your fault? Not part of your evil master plan?”

“I’ll take credit. But I didn’t plan it. No. You know I expected tonight to turn darker. But I can’t go through with it now.”

“Then get on with the business with your father. Save the bad-girl stuff for when I’m on the other side of town. Work some magic here so you don’t have to do the bad-girl stuff.”

“What have you been smoking?”

“I don’t do that. I can dream, can’t I?”

“Not now. Now I need you wide-awake and alert. I’m going to bring Dad out.”

16

Melondie Kadare plopped onto my shoulder. Her aerial navigation was erratic. “You been nipping the

Gold, Bug?”

“Just a little. They’re watching too close. I thought this was supposed to turn into a big brawl.”

“Everybody did. What’s up?”

“There’s a situation shaping up outside. Those ugly men who tried to break into our house are prowling around, looking for trouble.”

“They’re here?” Too many puzzles for one night.

“Yup.”

“Why would they want to get into it with this bunch?”

“Garrett, none of them look smart enough to put on a hat when it rains. They don’t know what’s going on here. They don’t care. They might not care if they did know.” Then she confided, “I think they’re after that girlie boy. That Penny. She was skulking around out there, too. Maybe they followed her.”

“Did they?”

“We maybe haven’t been paying enough attention. Blair and Russ figured out how to get some wine.”

“The rats aren’t drinking, too, are they?”

“I don’t know about the little ones. The big ones got a taste or two.”

I wanted to bark and howl and go spank Singe. Instead, I said, “Melondie, slide back out there and keep an eye out. I’ll send help if I can.”

She needed three tries to line up the window well enough to buzz through the gap.

Tharpe and his cohorts were now enjoying their own little party within the party. I went to visit. “Saucerhead.”

“Man, Garrett, here you come in one of your moods. What’s up?”

“There’re some guys in green pants outside, looking for trouble. The drivers might not be able to handle it themselves.”

“You lank-shank sack a camel snot …”

I left too soon to appreciate Tharpe’s full list of my horrible shortcomings. I know what they are, anyway. Tinnie keeps me posted.

I got back to my table just as the guest of honor came out.

Belinda had gotten Chodo looking presentable. He appeared to be asleep in his chair, not incapacitated. That impression lasted only briefly.

Silence filled Whitefield Hall. Although there had been rumors, they’d been disregarded because the Outfit retained its Contague edge. But here was proof that Chodo Contague wasn’t the Boss anymore. Clearly, he hadn’t been in charge for a long time.

A neatly arranged blanket covered his lap and legs. His bony talons lay in his lap, right on left. His bare forearms were purplish. His chin rested on his chest. He drooled.

Hard men there were appalled and repelled.

Belinda said, “The guest of honor. My father. Chodo Contague. Celebrating his sixtieth birthday. Let’s toast the man responsible for our prosperity.”

The shock waned under the weight of wine and good cheer. Some shill burst into song. Others picked it up. A few wondered what this meant to the overall organization.

I caught snippets. Some saw this as a chance to improve themselves. But they couldn’t concentrate, even though they kept talking about trying.

I was ten feet away when Chodo came to life, though only just barely. He raised his chin three inches, the effort herculean. His whole body shook. His gaze found me momentarily.

A kitten leaped desperately toward his lap.

The hall slammed into darkness. Then fire exploded as the decorative lamps shattered and spewed burning oil. People pounded their clothing, to kill the flames there. The air began to heat up.

So did panic.

The latter included Belinda, who ran blindly. This definitely wasn’t on her program.

I caught her, gripped her arm with one hand, and spun Chodo’s chair with the other, headed them toward the kitchen. Everybody else rushed the front door.

Morley quickly sent his troops to fight the fires. He keeps a cool head however filthy the scat storm gets. When even queens of the underworld are losing control, Morley stands short, proud and calm.

A swarm of cats streamed past. Rats were in motion, too. Pixies zoomed around overhead.

The confusion eased in the kitchen. “You stay here,” I told Belinda. “Where are your bodyguards?”

“Good question. I mean to ask.”

“I’ll find them.” It was a puzzle, them vanishing. They should’ve surrounded Belinda the instant the excitement started.

The baby cats headed back into the big hall.

Belinda seized my arm, for one moment a scared little girl. Which is one way she manipulates me. Then the woman who ran the Outfit reemerged. She snagged a butcher knife. “Be careful.”

“Watch out. Don’t leave unless you have to. There’s some kind of excitement going on outside.” I followed my kitties.

Fires still pranced and murmured in a dozen places. Only the little blazes had been slain. The excitement up front had ended. A few bold fellows had turned back to help, though the effort looked hopeless. The remaining fires weren’t going to let mere mortals push them around.

I found Belinda’s bodyguards. They’d gone down where they were posted. They hadn’t bailed on her at all. Two were smoldering and dead. One was just plain dead. Two more were smoldering but alive, unconscious, in desperate need of help.

I discovered several more goombahs in like condition, alive but unconscious. “Morley! Over here! Problems bigger than those fires.” The goombahs were burning like that woman had. “How do we get them out?”

Dotes barked, “Theodore! Take Beans up front. See if you can’t get some help in here.” He bounced over beside me. “This is ugly, Garrett. Really ugly. Smells like sorcery.” Thugs crackled and popped.

“I don’t know. Grab his legs.” We huffed and puffed and dragged a man out to the ice bath. I reminded

Morley about my meeting with Harvester Temisk.

“It had something to do with all this?”

“Maybe. But I don’t know where he’d fit. Cause or effect? Symptom or disease? On three. One. Two. Three.”

Ice water splashed. A kitten protested getting its feet wet. It strutted off indignantly, shaking each paw as it came off the floor.

The cat led us back into the main hall, where it bounded into the pail I’d used to bring the litter aboard. That pail was full of cats already, all with paws on the rim, watching anxiously. I shouted, “Just find somebody who’s breathing and get him out of here!”

Morley told me, “Grab your cats and go, Garrett. I’ll get these guys out. Hell! This one is gone now. Sharps! Give me a hand with this.”

Melondie Kadare appeared, wobbling worse than ever. “Help,” she whimpered. “I’m too ripped …”

“What’re you doing back inside?”

She squeaked. “I need to get my people out.”

“How many are in here? It’s going up.”

“What was I going to tell you? Shit. It’s hard to think straight when you’re fucked-up. Oh. Yeah. You need to get away from here. The Watch are coming. Because of the fighting.”

“What fighting?”

“Outside … it went all to shit. I need to get out of here. But I’m ripped.”

“Hang on to me, then.”

Morley and his guys got out, carrying the last surviving bodyguard to the ice bath. I warned him, “Get going. Relway is coming.”

Where had Relway been? Belinda would’ve arranged a diversion. Something blatantly political. Deal

Relway loves racialists less than gangsters.

Me and my pail roared through the back door. It was every-man-for-himself time. The coaches were gone. The parking area retained nothing but a dusting of large, ugly men who were either unconscious or dead. They had no friends to help them get away.

Morley faded into the night with his men, disappointed because their efforts had been wasted. Both bodyguards had died in the ice bath.

I made like the good shepherd myself, wondering about a batch of baby cats who would get together so their staff could lug them out of danger more easily.

Melondie Kadare started snoring. Brutally. I tucked her into a chest pocket.

17

It didn’t take long to realize that somebody was following me. Somebody either very good or blessed with a little magical assistance. I couldn’t shake him, nor did I manage to ambush him. Melondie Kadare kept on snoring. The kittens didn’t like delays. They got antsy when I tried to lie in wait. Then noisy when I fooled around too long. “You guys getting hungry?”

It was quiet tonight, the weather good despite the season. A big old moon up top silhouetted bats zipping around above the rooftops. There was a nip in the air. Scatters of cottony cloud tumbled across the sky. I didn’t think the bats would find many bugs. Winter wasn’t far away.

Melondie groaned and whimpered. “It’s your own fault, Bug.” In the distance, Whitefield Hall cast a cheery glow. The pixie crawled out of my pocket. She tried her wings. I caught her before she crashed, tried to put her away again. She wasn’t interested. She clung to my shoulder instead. But when I stopped to listen for footsteps she slithered inside my shirt. When you’re small you lose body heat fast.

“Don’t bounce around so much, Biggie. And keep them cats away.”

The streets remained deserted, which was unusual. TunFaire goes round the clock. But I was content. It’s nice when no sense of dark imminence hangs in the air.