Cruel Zinc Melodies

36

My whole life I’ve suffered from a compulsion to tug the king’s beard. The temptation has gotten to me more times than I care to recall.

Natty as all hell, I left Mr. Jan’s place fighting an impulse to go throw an arm across the shoulder of one of the guys following me. Just to mess with him. And with any other watchers.

I resisted. This time.

I moved out slowly so everybody could keep up. I headed for The Palms. Which would amaze no one.

I did not receive the usual hostile reception. I was suspicious immediately.

Sarge seated me in a comfortable chair. Puddle brought tea. Quickly. In a silver tea service. My suspicions deepened. ‘‘What’s going on, Puddle?’’ It wasn’t like them to ignore such a stylish coat.

‘‘I told ’em your head wouldn’t be turned by no tea.’’

‘‘Nor by manners. That just makes me wonder where they’ve been for the last ten years.’’

Sarge said, ‘‘I don’t know about Morley, Garrett. But I ain’t known you dat long.’’

‘‘The question stands. How come you’re being nice?’’

‘‘Orders.’’

‘‘I know Morley isn’t suffering a conscience attack over the way you guys usually act. So what’s the story?’’ I had a notion. Any time somebody is slimy nice to me it’s because they want a name moved up the waiting list for the three-wheels.

‘‘Da boss has got him a new girlfriend.’’

‘‘Earthshaking news. What’s it been, days and days since the last one?’’

‘‘A while, actually. Ever’ time you turn around, here came another one a’ dem sky elf women, wantin’ some a’ his special.’’

‘‘They aren’t bothering him anymore? That would be disappointing.’’

Sarge looked a little shifty. ‘‘Don’t you figure you about got even by now?’’

‘‘Hey. You’ve had the Goddamn Parrot here all winter. What do you think? Is a hundred years long enough to get even for that?’’

The big slob just laughed. ‘‘Dere ya go, overreactin’ agin. You oughta sign up wit’ one a’ dem actin’ companies. Ye’re so big on da drama.’’

So I’ve heard from a few folks. Who are just fooling themselves.

Morley appeared. He had a big smile pasted on. Which just revealed the sharpness of his teeth.

‘‘Gee! You guys must want something real bad.’’

‘‘Garrett, you have to be the most cynical human being I know.’’

‘‘The key phrase being human being, of course. I can think of a whole list of folks more cynical and manipulative than me. But they’ve all got a little nonhuman in them somewhere.’’

He did not stop smiling. ‘‘What did you want?’’ Implying that I wouldn’t be seen around The Palms unless I wanted something.

‘‘Just putting you on the spot with the guys following me around.’’

His smile vanished. ‘‘We could put a sign out. Invite them in. Help build the business.’’

‘‘So we’ve pranced around. Now what?’’

‘‘You go first. What do you want?’’

‘‘Just to put my dogs up. On the way down to the World. To find out why Alyx Weider insists it’s haunted when nobody else sees any ghosts.’’

‘‘Going to bullshit a master bullshitter?’’

‘‘How’s this, then? I want to leave a message for Saucerhead. He’s never home anymore. You’re likely to see him before I do.’’ I don’t know what it is with Tharpe. He’s no born-again vegetarian but he likes The Palms. ‘‘The Dead Man has work for him. He’s having trouble recalling who the senior partner is again.’’

‘‘And?’’

‘‘Where can I find me a gypsy necromancer? I could settle the ghost business in a minute with a professional.’’

‘‘Now we’re getting somewhere.’’

‘‘I thought that up on the spot. I was telling the truth about wanting to put my feet up. I haven’t been getting enough exercise.’’

‘‘You never did.’’

‘‘Your turn. How come the nice show? Give it to me straight. I can take it.’’

‘‘It isn’t that big a thing.’’

It was that big a thing.

‘‘We want to borrow Singe. For a tracking job.’’

Aha. ‘‘Singe is a free agent. Go over to the house and ask if she wants the work.’’

‘‘We were hoping you could intercede on our behalf.’’

‘‘Of course you were.’’

‘‘You know she won’t lift a paw if you don’t give her the go-ahead.’’

‘‘Then when you go see her be sure to tell her I said it’s all right by me.’’ I struggled to keep a straight face.

Morley gave me the fish-eye. Wondering if I realized that he didn’t want to talk to Singe where the Dead Man might take a gander at the circus inside his head. He decided I was smart enough to see it.

I said, ‘‘Of course I am. It’s my only joy in life.’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘I’m a major pain.’’

‘‘You got that right.’’

‘‘You thought of a gypsy necromancer?’’ He knows everybody on the underbelly of society. I know a few myself but am intellectually allergic to the region of the beast’s belly where the parasites practice the sorcery trades.

‘‘Belle Chimes.’’

I managed a credible impression of a bass out of water. Mouth moving but producing no sound till, ‘‘You’re kidding.’’

‘‘Probably not a real name.’’

‘‘You think?’’

‘‘I’ve never met the guy. He’s way on the down low. He has a reputation like yours. Straight arrow in a sleazy racket. Better dressed, though.’’

‘‘Thank you. I think. The coat’s a loaner.’’

‘‘Of course it is. You’re Mr. Style.’’

‘‘You saw what your guys did to my good coat.’’

He couldn’t argue with that. He said, ‘‘Go to a tavern called the Busted Dick.’’ He offered an approximate location in the Tenderloin. ‘‘Buy yourself a beer. Talk to a barkeep named Horace. Tell him you need to talk to Bill about last week’s D’Guni tournament. Buy yourself another beer. If they decide you don’t look like a bonebreaker from the Hill or a ringer on the Director’s payroll, they might hook you up.’’

‘‘I’m not looking for a vampire.’’

‘‘A vampire might be an easier find. They don’t have Hill folks wanting to exterminate them.’’

‘‘I’m out of here, then.’’ Getting up and getting gone before he could nag me about Singe again.

If he was desperate enough he’d turn up at the house, Dead Man or no.