Gilded Latten Bones

72

The population of the house on Macunado continued to dwindle. Dean and Penny overruled me and went out to do some desperately needed shopping. Dollar Dan tagged along. I could not refute Dean's contention that all the entertaining had seen our bones get picked. The old man kept muttering about having trouble remembering the recipe for water soup, which was what we would be eating if he didn't go.

He clinched the deal by telling me he needed to see Jerry the beer guy. We would find ourselves in a desert otherwise.

One keg was dry. The other was down to a slosh.

Singe wore the ratgirl equivalent of a troubled frown after she recorded the advance she had given Dean.

"Reality catching up?" I asked.

"Not exactly. I noticed that Amalgamated is eleven days late with the quarterly dividend. We'll need that money if we keep pouring cash into this case the way we have been."

I heard "we" a lot but chose not to quibble.

She continued, "Considering the season, the dividend ought to be strong. I will claim penalty interest."

Her shoulders hunched like she expected me to take the company line against my interest as an investor.

I disappointed her.

I didn't know what she was talking about. I left that sort of stuff to her. She understood it. She reveled in it. She wallowed in it when she could.

Playmate joined us, trying to sub for Dean. He brought tea but was too shaky to manage pouring it.

Morley told him,"Sit your ass down, man! You look like hell."

I said, "He's two hundred percent better than when he got here."

Singe fiddled with her papers, getting more restive by the moment. Finally, she snapped, "Take it across the hall, boys. Take it next door. Take it anywhere but here. I have a ton of work. I need quiet to get it done."

Morley flashed a killer grin. Playmate looked soulfully wounded. I said, "As you command, so shall it be." I collected the Bird's painting and Penny's drawings. We crossed to the Dead Man's room.

"Warmer in here," Morley opined sarcastically.

Playmate planted himself in the best chair. "The pain isn't a tenth what it was but I still don't got any energy." He had brought the tea with him. He poured while sitting.

"That will turn around," I said. "Old Bones is totally confident. Mostly, it'll just take Dean to feed you up to your fighting weight, now."

"Think he'll be out for long?" Playmate tipped a thumb at the Dead Man. "I can feel the evil starting to grow again."

"I don't know. He's unpredictable. The stuff Kolda brought isn't working?"

Playmate tapped a dusting of brown powder into his teacup. "It's working smoky-ass miracles, Garrett. But it just slows the devil down. If I take it faithfully, obeying Kolda completely, it will take me three times as long to die."

His tone was understandably strained.

Meanwhile, Morley studied the artwork like he was determined to commit every brush and pencil stroke to memory.

Playmate said, "I think I've seen that man in the painting somewhere."

I suggested, "Year and a half ago? The mess at the World Theater?"

Playmate stared some more. "I see what you mean. But that's not the same man. An older brother, maybe."

"Barate Algarda was an only child."

"I got it. Nat something. A long time ago. I was a kid. But. ." He frowned deeply.

"What?" I asked.

Morley blurted, "You're right. He does look like that Algarda creep. But not the same. See the scar?" He pointed.

Playmate ignored him. "The man I remember looked like this over thirty years ago. Scars and all."

I enjoyed that pleasant feeling you get when you stumble onto something good, though I didn't really know if this was worth the stumble.

Playmate smacked himself upside the head. "The drug is working already. I can't hardly remember anything. I know he was a villain. Who ought to be a long time dead."

Playmate slurred. His chin dropped to his chest. Morley observed, "That is some kick-ass knockout powder."

"But of limited commercial value. Otherwise, Kolda would have a pot to pee in."

"I don't like to speak ill of your friends, Garrett, but that Kolda. ."

Singe shoved into the room. "Don't you hear the door, Garrett?"

"No." I did so now only because she had the hallway door open. Door-answering isn't part of my special skill set, anyway. "Who is it?"

"I suppose we would know if somebody answered it."

The thumping suggested someone was getting frustrated.

Singe made an exasperated noise more appropriate to one of our recent young adult lady visitors. She stamped up the hall.

Morley said, "If she was human I'd think Aunt Flo was winding her up."

"It's about the same thing. She'll be over it soon."

He said, "I may have crossed paths with this guy myself, sometime."