Angry Lead Skies
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70
I made sure my crew were the first to arrive at The Palms. Even
Dean came along, mainly to make sure Morley’s barbarians did
things right. If there was much surprise at the appearances of
Singe and Evas, Morley’s people hid it well. I’d left
Fasfir behind. Fasfir seemed to have learned everything she’d
wanted to know during her one protracted lesson.
Quite possibly nothing could surprise them.
One quick glance around and I asked Sarge, “What’s
going on? I paid you guys good money. You were supposed to set the
place up for—”
“You jus’ go on up da stairs dere, Garrett.
Puddle’s up top. He’ll take care a you.”
Puddle could make that climb and survive?
“Smart-ass,” Sarge said, reading my mind.
“Dey’s gonna come a time when yer gonna have some slick
pup mockin’ you fer havin’ stayed alive so
long.”
“Maybe so. I hope so.” If my luck shaped up.
My manners were less than impeccable.
I scurried up to see what was what, leaving Singe and Evas under
Dean’s protection. Puddle pointed when I reached the top.
I’ve been in and out of Morley’s place for as long
as we’ve been friends. I’d been upstairs a hundred
times. Morley has his office and living quarters up there. I
hadn’t thought much more about that floor. Now I discovered a
narrow hallway beside his office that, on previous occasions, must
have been covered with a panel that looked like part of the wall.
The hallway opened into a banquet room, complete with dumbwaiter to
the kitchen.
I suppose I should’ve suspected. The existence of the
place seemed entirely reasonable once I saw it. There was a lot of
room up there. It might be a major adjunct to Morley’s
business.
I wondered what went on there when he wasn’t renting it
out to me.
Morley materialized. In his most ingratiating, oily manner, he
asked, “Is it satisfactory, sir?” He’d noted the
fact that I was nonplussed. He loved it. “Is there anything
else I can do?”
A double-width table array had been set up with seats for twenty
people, eight along each side and two at each end. The settings
were basic but correct as far as they went. Dean didn’t
register any objection when he arrived, which eventuality occurred
while Morley and I were talking.
There was something else Morley could do but we’d get to
that later. “No. This’s fine. Except you’ve got
extra places set.”
“Don’t give me that dark look. I’m not
inviting anybody in. We’ve just found that setting extra
places saves embarrassment when the invited guests decide to bring
along someone you didn’t plan to have attend. People do that.
Even though it’s terribly bad manners.”
“I understand.” All too well. Dean had brought in a
covered birdcage containing one guest I hadn’t wanted to
invite. This one wouldn’t be getting his own chair. And, if I
could avoid it, the cover wouldn’t be coming off his cage,
either. He could be the Dead Man’s proxy without
participating in anything.
I remarked, “Your guys ran out on Winger at the stable the
other day.”
“And should’ve left an hour before they did. The
woman is insufferable. And she keeps getting worse.”
“She’s got a problem with you that she was taking
out on them?”
He didn’t want to talk about it. So I asked, “You
totally trust all your guys downstairs?”
“Of course.”
I tilted my head toward Evas. “Colonel Block has some
high-level friends who’d love to sink their talons into her.
We took a coach over here so nobody would see her on the
street.”
“If you need to keep her secret, why risk having someone
see her?”
“Her presence is an important ingredient for the success
of my evening.”
“She is a she, isn’t she?”
“You’d better believe. Not extravagantly so, just to
look at, but between us guys, don’t let that fool you. Her
public attitude, either. The ice does melt. In fact, it goes
straight to steam. A touch of wine helps. So she has an excuse for
making Katie seem repressed and distracted.”
“You didn’t. You know Tinnie will come with her
uncle. She’ll figure that out before she’s all the way
into the room.”
The possibility had occurred to me. But the potential of the
evening seemed worth risking Tinnie’s wrath. I mean, that
would come down on me sooner or later, anyway. It’s like
weather. Some days we’re going to have some.
“She’ll notice Kayne Prose and Cassie Doap long
before she notices Evas.”
“You didn’t. You rogue.”
“Rake’s the word, I think. But don’t go
playing pot to my kettle, pal. It took a lot of arranging to get
everybody here tonight. And I had to get away from the house for a
while. At least none of them are married.”
In general, Morley prefers women encumbered with husbands. Rich
husbands are especially good. Their wives are much less likely to
make demands he’d rather not meet. They have too much to
lose. Besides, he’s a married elf himself. So he claims.
I’ve never met his wife. He hasn’t seen her himself
since he was a kid, supposedly. Or maybe she wasn’t a wife,
just a fiancée.
Arranged marriage. It’s an elven thing. And an everybody
else thing, sometimes. When substantial estates are involved.
I added, “The rules of our relationship, laid down
explicitly by Tinnie herself, clearly state that neither of us has
any right to demand anything of the other as long as the
relationship remains informal. Which’s the way she wants it
kept.”
“Garrett, you’re thirty years old. Do you still
believe in the tooth fairy, too?”
“I’d say there’s a better chance of me running
into the tooth fairy than there is of Tinnie actually living up to
the letter of that.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Morley left us in Puddle’s care. He said he wanted to head
downstairs so he could make sure my guests went the right direction
when they arrived. Which probably meant he didn’t want those
lowlifes mixing with his class clientele.
I resisted the temptation to let the Goddamn Parrot get
away.
Dean assumed his post, the seat to the left of what would be
mine at the table head. He laid out paper, pens, and ink, and a
couple of Kip’s writing sticks. He’d try to record what
got said accurately enough that there could be no arguments later.
I was confident that others would do the same. I was just as
confident that there’d be arguments over who said what and
when later on. There’s always somebody who insists the
records are wrong.
Evas and Singe lurked behind the old man, both of them trying to
read his notes as he made them. I wondered how much success they
actually had.
It was scary how fast Singe was picking up the art. Writing was
giving her trouble, though. Her body wasn’t built to provide
the necessary fine motor skills. I suspected she’d never
manage anything but tedious block printing.
Even that would make her unique.
I separated Evas from Singe. “The man I was talking to was
the one I told you about.”
She showed an interest immediately. She’d reached the
point where she was having trouble sustaining her public frost. She
was obsessed. Which had been cute for a while but which had become
disturbing once I found myself ambushed whenever I was alone.
I thanked the stars or fates that Fasfir had needed to try her
wings just the one time. It had been sweet enough work keeping up
with Evas.
I reminded her, “He’d be a better teacher than I am.
Much better. Elves are known for their endurance.” If you
could believe a quarter of what this particular half-elf said about
himself. “He’s not bad looking, either. By our
standards.”
Near as I could read a silver elf’s face, Evas seemed
thoughtful.
I settled beside Dean. “All set?” He was studying
one of Kip’s writing sticks, looking dubious.
“I’m not sure I can do this anymore.”
“If you can’t get it word for word make sure you get
the high points. Ah. Playmate’s here.”
As I moved that way, Singe sidled up. “What are you trying
to do with Evas?”
“Nothing.”
“Garrett.”
“Just trying to help my best pal get a chance to
experience an amazing phenomenon.”
“I think you are up to something.”
“Really? Look, I need to talk to Playmate.” Playmate
had Kip in tow but not Kip’s mother or sister. Or Rhafi.
Mustn’t ever forget poor, invisible Rhafi.
Playmate looked exhausted. “It’s getting to me,
Garrett. Having the Guard watching the place all the time. Having
them come around asking questions at all hours.”
Even Kip seemed subdued. He hardly fidgeted. He made no effort
to wander away from Playmate. He didn’t insult anyone.
I asked, “Where are the rest of them?”
“I don’t know if they’re coming. Kayne said
she was but I expected her to get here before we did.”
“She has to come. We’ll be on real thin legal ice if
we put together a company where one of the partners isn’t
even old enough to draft. We need his mother here.”
“I understand that. But you need to realize that
Kayne’s custodial status won’t stand up if somebody big
really challenges it. She’s a woman. So she’s pretty
much handicapped when it comes to making contracts herself. If this
turns into something involving really big money, you know the
jackals are going to start gathering.”
Playmate was right. Women who make a name and place for
themselves have to do so against the ancient tide of the law. Kayne
had the legal advantage of being a widow, had no living father, and
neither son had reached his majority. Still, as Playmate said, add
money to the mix and somebody would take legal action to become
Kayne’s legal guardian.
Playmate mused, “I’m worried that the father will
turn up and stake a claim.”
“I thought he was dead.”
“No. He disappeared. He’s presumed dead. Even if he
is dead, somebody could claim to be him. It would be his word
against Kayne’s. A woman. Of questionable morals. The sorting
out would give somebody plenty of time to do some
mischief.”
“People can’t do much mischief if their legs are
broken.”
“It wouldn’t be that simple.”
“I hate people sometimes, Play. In times like these I have
trouble convincing myself that Relway doesn’t have the right
idea about how to handle humanity’s scum.”
“Might not be your best simile, Garrett. The scum is what
rises to the top. Well, somebody is here.”
Somebody proved to be Max Weider and his beautiful daughter
Alyx. Alyx was coifed and dressed to kill. Alyx loved every second
of the attention she attracted. Manvil Gilbey and our first
uninvited guest, Congo Greeve, straggled in behind, the bad and the
ugly. Congo looked like he had broken out the special, formal
occasions cranial wax. His eight-inch part glistened.
Wicked, wicked Alyx headed straight for me, blue eyes sparkling
like a bucket of diamonds. She showed me a wicked, wicked smile and
leaned forward to offer me a world-class glimpse of a wicked,
wicked decolletage.
“Bad girl,” I told her. “Daddy’s going
to spank.”
“Promise?”
“You’re hopeless.”
“I’ve got plenty of hope. I know you can’t
resist forever. I see you took the trouble to dress up.” She
grabbed my right arm, did a little wriggle-and-spin move before I
realized what she was doing.
Her daddy was not amused.
“I . . . What’re you
doing?”
“Tinnie was right behind us.”
The devil herself stepped into the room. Red hair, green eyes,
freckles, a shape to make men sit up nights cursing the sun and the
moon and the stars because there was only one of her to go around.
She wore green velvet. She eyed Alyx, checked the goofy look on my
clock, shook her head and allowed Puddle to guide her to the side
of the table where the Tates would be stationed. Like most everyone
else I know who passes as more than a remote acquaintance, Puddle
treats Tinnie like an empress.
Alyx said, “Damn. That didn’t get a rise out of
her. How ’bout you?”
“Well, you did get your dad all steamed up. You’ll
hear from him later.” Max and I might be friends but there
was no way he was going to let me get involved with his baby. Not
that he’s a snob. He just don’t think my prospects are
any better than those of highwaymen or pirates, professions
notorious for their high rate of turnover.
Alyx went over and dropped inelegantly into a chair beside
Tinnie. They fell into conversation instantly, probably beating up
on me. They were close friends, despite Alyx’s relentless
campaign to slide her shoes under the end of my bed.
Morley reappeared. He had changed clothing. He wore a
lady-killing costume now. I kept a straight face. He cast covert
glances into the dark corner where Singe and Evas lurked, trying to
avoid notice. Evas was busy playing peekaboo with the Goddamn
Parrot but didn’t miss Morley’s return.
Kip had discovered Evas, too. He was scared to death. I said,
“Play, tell Kip it’s all right. She’s on our
side.”
Well, I was hoping she was. Things might change suddenly if she
found out she had a ride home.
“Are you ready to begin serving?” Morley asked.
“The kitchen is ready for you.”
“Not yet. I’m waiting for the boy’s family to
show.”
He stared at Evas and the jungle chicken, which Evas had just
uncovered. “There’s something about that
creature . . . ”
Something she was projecting herself. I’d felt it back at
the house more than once. “Yes, there is. Would you like me
to introduce you?”
“I’m talking about Mr. Big, Garrett,” he
lied.
“That’s one of the better straight lines
you’ve ever handed me but I’m going to let you off. You
were distracted. Let me mingle with my guests. You want something
to do, a wine course might be appropriate right now.” A
suggestion that Dean had offered on the way over, as a way of
dealing with time that had to be filled.
There was an extra Tate as well as the Weider lawyer. His name
was Lister. He was a cousin in his thirties. Outsiders occasionally
confused him with Tinnie’s deceased pop, Lester. Lister
passed as the family legal expert. He was a square-jawed,
dark-haired, immaculately clothed and groomed, painfully handsome
character who had a hint of the weasel gleaming from the corners of
his eyes. For some reason I think of him as the Lawyer of Times to
Come.
I know of no one in the Tate clan who likes cousin Lister.
He’s tolerated because he’s kin and because he’s
good at what he does.
Cousin Lister has no clue how his relatives really feel about
him.
Like every human family in TunFaire, great or small, the Tales
have menfolk buried in the Cantard. Full-length frog fur coats are
more common than grown men who avoided military service in the war
zone.
Lister Tate, without halfway trying, wangled himself an army
assignment that kept him right here in TunFaire, as the armed
forces’ liaison with their biggest suppliers of boots and
leather accoutrements. He didn’t even move out of the family
compound. Nevertheless, he promoted himself an out-of-barracks
housing allowance that exceeded the pay rates of men like myself,
at my highest rank, even including the combat bonus I got while I
was in the islands.
I worked my way around to Tinnie. “My good fortune never
ceases to amaze me. I was daydreaming about meeting a beautiful
redhead. Look what walked through the door.”
“I saw what you were daydreaming about. A slutty blonde
young enough to be your baby sister.”
Alyx snickered and bounced over a seat so I could settle between
her and the redhead. She made some crude remark about the
chair’s warmth, that would’ve had her father looking
for a switch had he heard it. I gave her a wink. “You could
come be my baby-sitter.”
Tinnie told me, “You ever call her bluff for real, big
boy, you’d better have your running shoes on.”
Alyx said, “If he does, he won’t be able to do
anything but crawl.”
“You’re going to put it all on me when she’s
talking like that?” I winked at Alyx again. She stuck her
tongue out at Tinnie and started to hop into my lap. Then she
noticed her father, Gilbey, and Congo Greeve all glaring at her.
She needed to learn that some teasing wasn’t acceptable in
public.
“Yes. Because I expect you to know how to say
no.”
That seemed a tad unrealistic but I didn’t insist.
Instead, I said, “Uh-oh,” with very little regard for
Tinnie’s opinion.
Kayne Prose had arrived. Making a grand entrance, just ahead of
Cassie Doap, who seemed to have adopted a flamboyantly flirtatious
personality for the evening. Tinnie stomped a foot. She
wasn’t used to this level of competition.
In fact, she was rather exceeded.
Mother and daughter wore newly made gowns. Their creation
must’ve required the needles of all Kayne’s cooperative
sisters. Both gowns flattered outrageously what begged for very
little flattery in the first place.
Slack-jaw disease raged among the menfolk in Morley’s
private dining room.
Even Dean’s imagination seemed to come to life.
Rhafi came in behind his mother and sister, rendered almost
invisible by their glory.
As happenstance had it, Lister Tate was the only married man in
the room. The bachelors and widowers all looked ready to revel in
their status.
When time and doom catch up with me and I have to slough off
this mortal realm, I mean to thank the gods for having blessed me
with the chances I’ve had to get to know so many comely
women. I expect to start working on my speech about ten thousand
years from now.
Manvil Gilbey caught my eye, projected the unspoken question:
Was this something I’d laid on for Max? Max could not seem to
stop staring at Cassie Doap.
I shook my head, mouthed, “But if it’ll
help . . . ”
Puddle showed the newcomers to their seats, near Playmate and
Kip. Even he was having trouble breathing. There were far too many
beautiful women in that room, each of them trying to one-up the
others.
Tinnie let me have an elbow, putting plenty of force behind it.
“That’s for what you’re thinking.”
“I apologize. I’ll never think of you as an object
again. From now on it’s nothing but business. From now on
you’ll be Mr. Tate in my every act and thought.”
That earned me a repeat stroke of the elbow. “I’d
better not be.” The fickle woman.
Alyx said, “Look at Dad! I think the old bull’s in
rut.”
Tinnie muttered, “Alyx, sometimes you’re
too juvenile even to amuse me.”
I moved up to my place beside Dean, which was my signal that the
evening was about to become serious. Those who weren’t in
their official seats found them. Once everyone sat down there was
very little room to spare. Morley had another place setting on each
long side but it would’ve taken a shoehorn to get anybody in.
I introduced everyone, including Morley as host, then Evas and
Singe as they took their seats to the left of Dean and to the right
of me, without explaining their presence. I thought they ought to
stay mysterious. They drew stares but not even Lister Tate was
gauche enough to demand information about them.
I let Morley know that we were ready to be served.
Kayne and Cassie both managed admirably during dinner. Tinnie
was not amused by the regard they received. She was used to being
the center of attention. But all the men at this banquet were
related to her or had known her since she was a pup. Except for me
and Dean and Kayne’s drooling baby boys. And she already had
Dean on a leash and me wrapped around her finger.
Alyx was amused. She liked seeing Tinnie have to take second
chair. Just to rub it in she kept right on flirting with me. Her
father wasn’t worried about her anymore.
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