Down These Strange Streets

The latch of the trunk glimmered with a tangle of lethal spells.

I wondered if those who mattered knew we had a foreign heavyweight among us. A Venageti heavyweight who, likely, had survived our Hill folk in the Cantard.

“The war is over, Mr. Garrett. And my mission now is more important than any vengeance.” She opened the trunk and removed a tray filling two-thirds of the trunk’s depth. Beneath lay silver coins, rank against rank, side to side, standing on edge. Hundreds and hundreds. There was gold, too, but she hadn’t offered me gold.

Eight hundred nobles is a lot of money. And this was the real magilla.

“Take a coin. Any coin. Test it.”

“I can see they’re real.” They had the Full Harbor reeding that discourages counterfeiters.

“Even so, take one. Have it examined.” She waited while I helped myself. “Eight hundred nobles, Mr. Garrett, and the rest for expenses and a shopping spree before we go back to the gloom of Venageta.”

I hate it when bespoke villains show a human side.

“Come, Mr. Garrett. Let us return to the sitting room before your assistant loses her composure . . . First, though, assist me with the chest.” She reinstalled the tray. She reset the locking spells, which smelled of death. I helped swing the trunk down. She positioned it with exact care.

Being in front, I missed the smug look she swept across Singe, Penny, and Bottle.

We settled at the table.

Miss Grünstrasse began to frown and fret and smell worse, which troubled Singe. The woman started muttering. “Where is that girl? Why does she do this?”

I’d picked up enough Venageti in the war zone to puzzle that out. Miss Grünstrasse was not pleased with her wonder apprentice.

She said, “I apologize, Mr. Garrett. Eliza gets distracted.”

Eliza finally did turn up, carrying a tray with eight mugs aboard, in precise formation. She set the tray beside me. I said, “You are a treasure, Eliza.”

I might have been furniture.

I noted moisture on her shoes. Singe’s nostrils and whiskers twitched. She smelled something that hadn’t been there before.

I sniffed the beers, evidently one each of what Bunny had available. Two I passed to Singe.

Penny delivered Eliza’s pumpkin turnover. Bottle did the sauce. The girl fiddled, frowned, sniffed, tasted, then damned near smiled. She devoured the whole thing, taking dainty bites. Miss Grünstrasse was impressed. “We’ll be seeing more of those.”

Penny and Bottle began clearing away. Penny sensed a change and wanted to get a head start.

Singe began complimenting the house’s selection of drafts, pretending to get tipsy. Foreigners wouldn’t know that some ratfolk can suck it down by the barrel.

Once the kids were away, Singe began babbling about needing to get back to the house fast. We had a garderobe that a ratgirl could use. She didn’t want to embarrass herself.

Miss Grünstrasse smiled indulgently. “Please consider my offer, Mr. Garrett.”

“That’s guaranteed. I’m getting married. I could use the cash.”

“I’ll be here till the Shadow turns up.”

“I’ll have a confab with my partners as soon as we get back to the house.”

That sparked a big smile. Then, “I will be here.”

* * *

SOMETHING WAS HAPPENING IN AN ALLEY JUST YARDS FROM THE BENBOW. Senior Lieutenant Scithe was there, up late buzzing like the mother of all flies.

I stuck my nose in. That cost us a half hour spent answering pointless questions about how Singe, Penny, and I could possibly be found in the same city as a spanking new double homicide.

The victims were creatures like those who had invaded my house. The thing that had gotten Recide Skedrin got them, but they were melting slower. Similar lead pieces had gone in where the rot began.

Singe pointed with her folded umbrella.

I asked, “Lieutenant, might that busted box have something to do with this?” Said box was a ringer for the one recently added to the Dead Man’s collection, but lined with layers of metal. It had been ripped open.

“It’s got a weird feel. We’ll let the forensics wonks have a sniff.”

Singe got a sniff of her own.

Scithe turned us loose. Out of earshot, Singe said, “It stopped raining while we were inside, but the pavement is still wet. The girl smelled damp when she brought the beer.”

“And that box was dry inside.”

“She said nothing to her aunt.”

“She didn’t. I feel like running all the way home.”

Singe and I were rattled, but Penny had other things on her mind. She said she would catch up at the house. She and Bottle were going to meet up for an egg cream.

Singe wouldn’t let me get stupid.

“Here.” I fished out the coin the fat woman made me take. “I want to see some change. And be careful.”

Penny laughed, waved the noble in the air, and then dashed away.

Singe promised, “She will not spend it all.”

* * *

THE DEAD MAN SENSED OUR AGITATION WHILE WE WERE GETTING THE door unlocked. Come straight to me. Dean is fine.

He asked no questions. He dived straight into our minds, slithered through the muck. He expressed no concern about Penny.

I asked, “Am I off? Or is that Eliza kid a killer?”

Given what you brought, what I got from Rock Truck, and subject to what I may get from Penny, yes. She is not what she seems. Give me a minute to digest.

He took five.

Why did the woman send the child out? Being distracted enough to have done so in Karentine?

I had overlooked that.

The answer might be implied from her lack of scent, her absence of presence, and the deep nausea I felt when she came to the door.

“Grünstrasse wanted her out because she interferes with mind stuff.”

Excellent.

“And she wanted a peek inside my head.”

Which she got. Clearly, though, her talent holds no candle to mine. She could not discern details or specific thoughts but did see that you truly do not have the Shadow. She saw that Penny was with you. She may have been alerted to my existence.

That might not be a bad thing. She would want to stay away.

Did she develop suspicions of the girl? Did she note the evidence you did when the child returned? If Eliza fails to volunteer a satisfactory explanation, the aunt should become extremely nervous. If she learns of the incident outside, she might suspect a sudden alliance between Eliza and Rock Truck.

I do wish I could have her in for a consultation.

I wasn’t sure how he might connect Rock and Eliza but wouldn’t bet against it. He conjures correct answers from gossamer and fairy dust, drawing on centuries of observing how human bad behavior takes shape.

Proof of that hypothesis will be Mr. Rock returning here.

“You think he’ll panic and come to us because he doesn’t know anyone else.”

Yes.

“He’s lethally stupid.”

That was obvious from the beginning.

“What was in the box in that alley?”