Gilded Latten Bones

19

This time Morley woke up while the women were ministering to him. I got to witness another of those fascinating, inexplicably repugnant things that happen around him.

Two professional comfort women went red with embarrassment when he opened his eyes.

I just leaned against the wall, out of the way, and marveled. Un-bee-leave-a-bull!

DeeDee was in a charitable mood. Or needed to overcome her shyness by diverting her attention toward an unthreatening target. "There was some excitement out there again last night."

I'd almost convinced myself that I had dreamed it. "I hope it was less deadly than before."

"I think it was pretty ugly. You should talk to Miss Tea about that."

"I'll look forward. Moments with Mike are more precious than pearls."

DeeDee would never be an aficionado of my special humor. She looked at me blankly, not even wondering if I was poking fun.

Crush, though, rolled her eyes. She awarded me a sneer that said she got me and I was lame.

Morley made noises that sounded like they belonged to the family of questions most frequently asked upon awakening in strange circumstances.

I told him, "We're hiding out on the second floor of a hook shop called Fire and Ice, a subsidiary of the Contague family enterprise. We're here at Belinda's behest. She thought this would be a safe place to hole up till you heal enough to move to her place. Your lovely attendants are DeeDee and her daughter Hellbore, who prefers to be called Crush. They have been tending you since you were brought here. What, four days ago? Ladies?"

DeeDee counted on her fingers. "Yep. Four." Then she actually curtsied.

Crush rolled her eyes.

Morley made noises. I translated. "He says pleased to meet you and thank you for all the care you've lavished upon him."

Crush said, "Didn't sound like that to me."

Nor to me. "He might have expressed himself a little less elegantly. A man with deep stab wounds tends to be curt and cranky, especially when he's just wakened and the pain is catching up. But those were the core sentiments he wanted to convey. Deep down in his heart of hearts."

Crush said, "Man, you are full of it."

"It's one of my most endearing qualities."

She snorted.

"I'm really a big old lovable stuffed bear once you get to know me."

Another snort, dismissive but not derisive. "That isn't going to happen. The Capa left very specific instructions to the entire house. Not even DeeDee is dim enough to confuse them." She eyed her mother. Who kept right on looking like Crush's happy younger sister. "Or maybe she is. But she's already fixated on the bad boy."

"In another place and time, under different circumstances, we could have been great friends. I like the twists your mind takes."

That left her speechless. I indulged my evil laughter. I hadn't had a chance in a long time. Then, being a trained detective, I detected. "You guys didn't bring breakfast with you this morning."

DeeDee told me, "It wasn't ready. There were problems in the kitchen on account of some of the staff are late."

My paranoid bodyguard side went on alert.

Needlessly. DeeDee explained, "Mostly they're late because they have to get through all the tin whistles and whatnot that are out there. But some are fighting hangovers and stuff, too. The chief cook's daughter got married last night and that idiot paid for an open bar after. There'll be all the food you can eat once they get rolling."

Crush rolled her eyes again, this time for no obvious reason.

Morley stayed quiet. He listened, building mind pictures of character.

I said, "I'll need one of you to help feed him when the food does come."

DeeDee startled me. "That should be Crush. She does it better than me."

Crush shook her head. She didn't want the job if her mother didn't want it.

I opined, "Maybe we ought to let Miss Tea decide." Because that worthy had arrived. A wondrous medley of breakfast aromas pursued her. A previously unmet young lady deposited a tray on the nightstand. It was beginning to get crowded. If I had been between twelve and twenty-nine, I would have been in heaven. But I was a big boy now, no longer allowed to think that way. And the stench off a side of bacon was a total distraction.

Miss Tea said, "DeeDee, you and Crush go down and help serve. I'll feed Mr. Dotes while I talk to Mr. Garrett."

"Serve?" Crush asked.

"I opened the grand parlor to the Civil Guards. Serving tea and sweet rolls. A goodwill gesture."

"Always helps to be on good terms with the local red tops."

"It is. Move along, ladies. Garrett, before you pig out totally, hand me that glass and the long spoon."

"That glass" contained a greenish sludge made from something a starving pig probably would refuse but which might be good for a guy full of knife holes. Miss Tea said, "Some water, too."

That got to Morley via a reed, Miss Tea trapping a small quantity by holding a thumb over the reed's upper end, then releasing the dribble into Morley's mouth. It worked better when he was awake.

He was very thirsty.

Miss Tea fed him patiently, in little bits. "There was more excitement last night."

"So I heard. The neighborhood is overrun by red tops."

"They're everywhere. Half my people can't get to work. I try to make the tin whistles comfortable while they waste their time. And mine."

"What happened?"

"The night visitor came back. The Capa had a specialist waiting. And Director Relway had a team of Specials in the area, too."

"I thought I heard an explosion but I didn't see anything when I looked out the window."

"There was an explosion. Why don't you go down and see for yourself while I do this?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Here." She pulled a slip of parchment from its nest in her cleavage. It was warm and lightly scented.

"What's this?"

"An employee pass. It will get you in and out if you have to deal with people who don't know you."

"Thank you. That should be useful." For a moment I wished I could spread the brag amongst my circle. I had written proof that I was a bona fide employee at a top-level brothel.

On reflection, though, it might be better to keep it to myself. I would hear every possible bad joke from people determined to undermine my dignity. Towel boy would be the most generous accusation I'd hear.