“First smart thing you’ve suggested,” Gary agreed.
Liz was about to protest, then wearily changed her mind. Just because “drink” and “think” rhyme, she once told me, doesn’t mean they always have to go together. We cut behind the buildings and down the alleys that separated the main street from the few smaller, residential dwellings that backed up to it. These were dangerous passageways at night, but since most everyone was at the fire and I knew Liz and I could handle any bandits we might encounter, I wasn’t worried. We gave a wide berth to one body sprawled in the mud; I couldn’t tell if the guy was drunk, beaten or dead, but if he’d wandered back here, he probably deserved what he got.
We emerged at Angelina’s. She stood outside, a pipe in her hand, watching the orange glow in the sky. A few patrons lounged against the wall with their tankards. She looked tired, and her blouse was sweaty above her corset. When she saw us she smiled at Liz, then frowned at me and Gary.
“First you’re cut to pieces; now you’re half burned up,” she said. With a “hmph” of disdain she added, “And you’re keeping this kind of company.”
“Kiss my ass, Angelina,” Gary said, leaning wearily against the wall.
“What burned down?” she asked Liz and me.
“Hank Pinster’s stable,” Liz said.
Angelina’s eyes opened wide, and her attitude vanished. “Doesn’t that mean your office, too?”
“Yeah,” she said wearily.
Angelina patted Liz’s arm sympathetically. Then her normal disdain returned. “Let me guess-these two geniuses went in to make sure everyone was out.”
“Somebody had to,” Gary said. He glanced at me; I shrugged. If he wanted to claim credit for something noble, I wasn’t going to contradict him.
“Think you can get these two heroes a drink?” Liz asked drily. “Then maybe I can get mine off the street for the night.”
“Oh, sure,” she replied acidly. “Heroes are our favorite patrons.”
We followed her inside. Except for Callie busily washing tankards and the two minstrels sharing a pipe, the place was empty. Tables and booths were still cluttered with signs of occupancy, though, and the crowd would return as soon as the excitement ended.
Gary and I dropped heavily onto bar stools, still coughing and wheezing. Callie did a double take at us and said, “Wow, Mr. LaCrosse. You look worse than you did before.” I couldn’t argue.
Angelina placed two tankards in front of us, and a cup of wine before Liz. I drank mine gratefully, coughed some more, then turned to Gary and said, “Argoset lied to us.”
He nodded. He tried to speak, but choked on the ale.
“About what?” Liz asked.
“Hank was in there,” I said, low so only she and Angelina heard.
“He was?” Liz gasped. “Why didn’t you bring him out?”
“He was already dead. Somebody thought he was a hay bale and stuck a pitchfork through him.”
Angelina shook her head. “Poor Hank. With all those kids, too. And he still owed me money.”
“Argoset said no one was in there,” Liz said.
“Yeah.”
“Maybe that big lummox didn’t see him?”
“He was pinned to the wall like a royal decree. Kind of hard to miss.”
“Who was hard to miss?” Callie said as she elbowed in beside Angelina.
“Your new boyfriend,” I said.
She glanced over at him. Whatever he and his friend had in their pipe, it clearly made them happy, as both were laughing like toddlers. “Yeah, just wish he’d lay off the giggleweed. Makes their second set pretty sloppy.”
“This audience probably doesn’t notice,” I said.
Callie gave me a lopsided smile that, for the first time since I’d known her, carried a hint of shrewdness. “I hope they won’t always be playing to audiences like this. There’s something else on the horizon, a real big-time gig. But I don’t want to jinx it by talking about it.” Then she took a basket out to the floor and began collecting more discarded tankards so she could wash them before the patrons returned.
We all fell silent and nursed our drinks. In all honesty, though, despite the fact that a nice guy had died, I was far more concerned that Liz told me she hadn’t found the old man, even though I’d seen her do it. Bathed in amber light from the tavern’s lamps, she looked younger and lovelier than ever. I’d first met her in this tavern, in fact, two bar stools away from where she sat now. Maybe, I reasoned, she was just waiting to tell me once we were off the street. I leaned close and softly asked, “So you didn’t find any sign of the old guy with the gloves?”
“Nope,” she repeated, straight-faced, no hint of guile. I think my heart broke a little.
“So what are you crusaders going to do next?” Angelina said.
“Nothing,” Gary croaked.
I said, “First thing tomorrow, I’m going to-”
Gary grabbed my arm. I’d never seen him look so certain, and at the same time so terrified. “ No, Eddie. You’re not going to do anything. Whatever’s going on, whoever’s behind this, you’re already in further than you should be. So am I, and it’s going to take all my smarts to get me out.” Then he coughed some more and put his head down on the bar.
I waited until he got his breath before asking softly, “What do you know about it, Gary?”
“Nothing. I don’t want to know. These decisions come from far over my head, and my orders were to smile, nod and look the other way. So I’m looking.”
“Even though Hank’s dead,” I said.
“Yes,” he said with no hesitation. “Because whatever’s going on is that big, and I’m content to be little.” He slapped a coin on the bar, then went coughing into the night.
Angelina picked up the coin. “For Gary, that speech was medal-level bravery. And since he paid for his own drink, he must be really scared.” She tucked the coin somewhere out of sight, wiped his spittle from the bar and looked at me. “And since you won’t take his advice, what are you going to do?”
“Right now he’s going home,” Liz said. “Finish your drink and let’s go.”
“She sounds like your mother,” Angelina said.
“And in bed she sounds like yours,” I said. Angelina’s harsh laugh trailed us out the door.
When we reached our building, I was surprised to see Liz’s wagon and horses tied up outside it. I’d been so preoccupied by the emergency that I hadn’t noticed them before. The animals whinnied and tossed their heads when they saw her, but she ignored them and helped me up the stairs. “Is that your wagon?” I asked needlessly.
“Yeah. Didn’t feel like walking all the way from the office.”
“That’s lucky,” I said. Normally both wagon and horses would’ve been at the livery stable. “You bring home your most important assets just before your office burns down.”
“Yeah, isn’t it?” she agreed, with no sign of suspicion or guilt. She opened the door and went in ahead of me. While she lit the lamp, I undressed at the door and dropped my smoke-ruined clothes atop my earlier bloodied ones. At this rate I’d need a whole new wardrobe before the week was out.
I fell across the bed yet again, adding soot and sweat to the bloodstains I’d left there earlier. The muscles of my chest hurt when I coughed and the back of my head throbbed anew. My knuckles ached whenever I moved my fingers. Liz poured me a drink of water, handed it to me, then went to the window. The glow had almost vanished, and she had to lean far out to see past the corner. “Looks like they’ve kept it from jumping to any of the other buildings.”
“Good,” I said.
She turned and sat on the windowsill, her eyes on me. “That was, by any conventional wisdom, a thoroughly dumb-assed thing to do. I knew you were going in, but I didn’t expect you to have to be carried out.”
I nodded, and coughed. “Me, neither.”
“In the last month you’ve scared the daylights out of me more than anyone ever has. I’d really rather you not, from now on.”
“It wasn’t on purpose,” I croaked.
“It never is. That’s pretty damn little comfort, though.”
