Gilded Latten Bones

a time. They didn't talk that way to the town's hottest celebrity today.

Sarge volunteered, 'I'd make a good fait'ful old sojer what's been banged aroun' enough ta have some character.'

And there was another reason Jon Salvation felt free to unleash his inner dick. People put up with it because he might cast them in a play.

42

Salvation did not get in a huff. He just went away, no doubt deleting my name from his roll of potential character actors.

'Sorry about that, Sarge.'

'He ain't timid no more.'

'No. Unless he was on the street.'

'No shit dere. Dat attitude don't cut no nutin' wit' da brunos. If dey was any dat da Director didn't already ship off ta da work camps.'

An interesting notion, that law and order had become so ubiquitous that smarmy little peckerwoods like the Remora could turn snotty and not have to pay with bloody head wounds.

What did Deal Relway think of that unintended consequence?

'Anyway, you were telling me that Morley's country fiancee might be in town hoping to dip into his pockets.'

'Dat's just one t'eory.'

'Are there others?'

'Probably. You gotta ast da Capa. Me, I don't t'ink so fast so I jes' follow along.'

'I see. Don't put yourself down. You have a knack for doing the right thing at the right time.' He saved my life, once upon a time. 'Did you hold back anything from the Capa? Something you guys thought might upset her?'

A downside to being a sociopath, like Belinda, was that people walked on eggshells around you. They didn't tell you things that might upset you. You ended up operating in a bad news vacuum.

Belinda was smart enough to see that. She created ways around the standard distortion. But those ways would not work inside a closed and loyal crew like Morley's. Belinda might suspect that they were blowing smoke and leaving things unsaid but that would be outside her imperial reach.

'Any other time, Garrett, an' you'd be right. If Morley survivin' wasn't involved, we'd mix up a whole stew a half-troots an' misleadin' troots. We wouldn't let her know what was really what. But dis time it was himself as da table stakes. Dis time we had ta tell her true.'

The dialect had weakened. I understood every word.

Morley's crew would not hold out on Belinda while she could do their friend and employer some good.

They would turn loose nothing that didn't bear on the immediate problem, though.

'You didn't hold anything back?'

'Nut'in'! We gotta get our Morley back-which I guess we sorta got, if'n he ever come outta dat coma-an' we gotta have a shot at fixin' whoever done whatever got did ta him. We figure you an' da Capa tagether are gonna see the blood spread where dat's gonna do da mos' good. An' I t'ink I better get on back down ta da place, now. Dey're gonna need me. Dis is da busiest night a da week.'

'I wouldn't want to interfere with business. Get going. If something turns up that might interest me don't waste time letting me know.'

Sarge nodded. 'He's gonna make it, ain't he, Garrett?'

'I'm sure. Tell the others. Morley will be back real soon.'

'T'anks, Garrett.' He stared at me for several seconds. 'Maybe you ain't da complete sponge we always t'ought.'

Sarge, Puddle, and others of Morley's bunch had, back when, treated me like I carried a social disease. They had kept it in check only when Dotes was there, watching.

'I'm pleased to hear you say that, Sarge. It means a lot. Now go back to work and make Morley rich.'

As Sarge headed out I realized that I could not remember what Morley called the place he had opened across from the World. What was wrong with me? Tinnie and I had eaten there several times.

43

A quick census revealed that the Garrett household had shed most of its visitors. Some, when the Dead Man showed me the roster, were folks I'd missed. Some I didn't know. 'Tinnie never showed?' I asked Singe.

'Which means nothing,' she told me. 'She was informed that important matters would be discussed but this is the middle of the workweek and Amalgamated still suffers from explosively good sales. Note that the people who were here mostly aren't the kind who have ordinary jobs.'

Yeah. True. She made it sound plausible.

Those who were still around sure fit. Saucerhead Tharpe, maybe passed out drunk, looked pathetic snoring in a corner. Jon Salvation was bold enough to use Singe's pens and inks to scribble in the bound book of blank pages he carried everywhere.

Then Salvation was up and reminding me, 'You said you'd write a letter that would get me in to see Tinnie.'

'So I did. Help me swing this desk around and I'll get on it.'

I created a three-hundred-word masterpiece that would get Tinnie salivating over the prospects of what Jon Salvation might want to discuss. I kept me out of it. I said nothing about where I was, what I was doing, why, or even my state of health. She could squeeze that out of the Remora if she wanted to know. And he could let me know how interested she was.

If it went right I might try to sneak away for a peace conference.

And then we were down to Saucerhead, a few ratpeople, and the folks over there with the Dead Man. I complained, 'I never got a chance to talk to John Stretch. I wanted to catch up on his adventures.'

Singe said, 'He's doing fine. Outstanding, considering he's still the boss of bosses in the rat underworld. After all these years.'

'That would be about three, wouldn't it?'

'Only one as boss of bosses. The first of his kind, really.'

She glowed with pride. Her brother was the undisputed overlord of crime amongst her species.

Her look dared me to disrespect her pride.

I'd never do that. Not to Singe.

Garrett. Please join us.

Though I did not hear Singe mentioned I was not alone in migrating.

It seemed there wasn't just one corpse in the cold room when Singe and I arrived. Nobody moved. You'd expect that from Old Bones but Kolda, Playmate, or the healer should have been doing something.

Singe went straight to Playmate, who, definitely, looked dead.

I had Mr. Kolda give him a measure of the medication meant for Mr. Dotes. We will put a bad thing to good use by keeping Playmate under while I battle the monster devouring him from inside. Singe, engage one of the Kerr tribe to take a message to the brother-in-law managing Playmate's stable. He will need to understand what is happening. Do not give too much detail. Do not suggest that we have any great hope. The brother-in-law will, almost certainly, find the prospect of Playmate's recovery disheartening.

From what I knew about Playmate's brother-in-law, I reckoned the Dead Man was spot on. Play's sister was his only heir. The idiot husband probably had a buyer for the stable lined up.

'So what are you actually doing?'