Faded Steel Heat Part 37

"I'm new at this. I thought maybe Colonel Theverly-"

"Follow me, please."

I did. I caught Tinnie's hand as I pa.s.sed her.

78.

Tama was working on North English when we joined them in a room reminiscent of Max Weider's study-though this was much larger. If the weather turned bad, the freecorps goofs could hold their maneuvers indoors. A world of plotting could be managed from there. The gloomy nether reaches contained maps hung above sand tables boasting miniature structures that looked familiar.

Two guys with spears for spines and no imaginations were camped between us and the tables, I guess in case I suffered one of my outbreaks of curiosity.

Good to see they trusted me as much as I would've had I been the old boy getting mummified. "Sir," I said as the officer and I approached, "you wanted me?" He looked less determinedly antagonistic now.

"Tama says you came to see me." His voice was weak and high but stronger than I'd expected. He winced as Tama swabbed an abrasion. Naked to the waist, he was a pasty, doughy sort of man.

Also a lucky sort. He hadn't been treated kindly. He had suffered cuts and stab wounds and bad abrasions most men couldn't have survived.

I said, "I wanted to bring you up-to-date." He lacked enthusiasm. In his position it would be hard to be enthusiastic about anything less than life itself.

I edited my story only slightly. If I was being followed, my movements were no secret. Anything I'd learned, if I'd learned anything, could be learned by others. There was little point holding out. And none to revealing that I was reporting to Block and Relway, too.

I was up to the centaurs. "They were a military unit. Disguised but definitely veterans."

North English waved a hand. "Wait a minute." He pushed Tama away.

I waited while he ordered his thoughts. That took a while.

"Let me get something straight. You had no idea The Call would begin the Cleansing last night?"

"Not a glimmer. But you're the only one I know who'd know about it. You didn't warn me."

"But you're generally well informed and a keen observer. You would have noticed anything obvious." He seemed to be having trouble thinking.

"I thought so myself."

"If you didn't notice, then it wasn't something we did that gave us away." My guess was, he'd just realized that he had a rat in his walls. "Tama. Miss Tate. I want to chat with Mr. Garrett privately. Ed. You and your men step out with the ladies."

Ed was the officer who had delivered me. Apparently body-guarding was among his duties. He was scandalized. "Sir, I wouldn't recommend-"

"Do it, Ed."

Ed stopped arguing.

Tinnie didn't want to leave, either. Tama didn't want to leave. They did not argue. Marengo North English was in charge.

I chuckled. "You got Ed worried, boss."

North English frowned at my familiarity. "Possibly. And that's my fault. He took the same att.i.tude yesterday, I told him to go away-and I ended up lucky to be alive."

"How bad is it?"

"I told you, I was lucky. d.a.m.ned lucky. They meant to kill me but a gang of dwarves looking for rightsists to fight popped up and attacked them."

"I'm confused," I confessed. "Maybe you started in the middle. Dwarves saved you? From human attackers? Why would they do that?" It was interesting that terror and pain would put him into such a talkative mood. But why with me?

"They didn't recognize me. And the men who attacked me were disguised as members of the movement."

"Maybe they were."

"Possibly. That's not a thought I cherish. But I do have rivals. Although I don't think any of these men were that because I didn't recognize any of them. Even so, I did want Ed and the others out of here so we could speak freely."

"About what?"

"You must look into what happened while you're doing whatever else it is that you're doing. I'm particularly interested in knowing who those men were. I am confident that they were specifically committed to the extinction of Marengo North English and my survival is due only to an ironic twist of fate."

"I still feel like we're going sideways."

"I'll start from the beginning. Last night was a big night for The Call. We'd planned for months. We put it off several times because we thought we could make a bigger splash later. But now we were coming up on the dwarfish New Year. We had to move before all their rustic cousins came to town for the holidays."

North English composed his thoughts carefully before he continued. He was much more businesslike than he had been at Weider's.

"As you may suspect, like you, I have a taste for toothsome ladies. Not long ago I met someone new and intriguing. She seemed equally interested. Last night presented a perfect opportunity to pursue the possibilities. The Cleansing provided a reason to be away from The Pipes. And there was nothing I could contribute to actual operations short of getting out in the street throwing brickbats with the others."

I listened for hints of hypocrisy. I still had trouble picturing Marengo North English as a true believer.

Maybe the insincerity existed only in my imagination.

"So you had a date. Rough trade, too, looks like."

"I walked into an ambush. I couldn't have been much stupider. Ed warned me but I wouldn't listen. It's the way men get."

"Sometimes," I admitted, having been there.

"It's only sheer fool luck that I'm here now." He snuck a glance to see if I was conscious of the irony.

I eschewed any observation about fools and drunks. "Are you heading somewhere?"

"I am. Yes." Pause. Deep breath. "Eight of the most influential men in the movement were murdered last night. Somebody tried to kill Bondurant Altoona. Burned his house down. But he wasn't inside." Did I hear disappointment? "Ladora Ankeny was hurt worse than I was, poor woman. I was attacked, of course. Set up and attacked."

"Thought you and old Bondurant didn't get along."

"We don't. He's not well liked. We left him out of our plans. But he did hear somehow and left home-to get in the way, if I know the man at all-just before the fires started."

Maybe. "Were the attacks coordinated?"

"I believe they were."

"Why?" I meant why did he think that but that wasn't what he heard.

"The a.s.sa.s.sins were all human. I can't believe that there's that kind of opposition among our own people. There're only two kinds of humans." Eyes calculating, he paused to read my expression. "Those who're with us and those who're with us but haven't yet awakened."

You might be surprised, boss. "You know who got killed, right? Who they were could tell you why. What did they have in common?"

Evidently North English didn't want to face that question. He had an answer already that didn't please him.

"So?" I asked, noting that he was still trying to read me.

"Everyone attacked was involved in fund-raising. Or made decisions concerning raising funds. I think I might be the only one who could see that connection. So maybe that that was why was why I I was targeted." was targeted."

Which offered us both an answer he didn't want to face-along with a reason why.

He'd slipped off to meet Belinda, jumping right into a honey trap. And now his ego hurt worse than his body because he feared he'd been set up from the beginning.

Belinda was her father's daughter, with extra weapons. She could blind men with their natural weakness. And she had no concept of mercy.

I said, "If you play on their ground, you obey their law. Only the strong survive. You mess with their money, they kill you. Unless you kill them. They don't think like kings and generals. Or like you. They don't send soldiers to attack your soldiers. They'll kill your men only if they get in the way. They want you. Once you're dead your soldiers are no longer a problem."

That seemed the obvious way to operate, too. I've never understood why, when we caught a big-time Venageti wizard or general or n.o.ble, we'd always ransom him. Or even just let him go if he promised not to fight anymore.

I wondered what Belinda would say about last night. Not that I'd ask. I try to separate business and friends.h.i.+p. If a friends.h.i.+p is what we have.

I told North English, "I've known these people a long time. I'm surprised they've been as tolerant as they have."

That startled Marengo. "Tolerant?"

"By their standards."

"It wasn't my intent to engage in criminal activities, Mr. Garrett. I'm the most visible Call leader but not the only one. Not even the supreme one. Other groups started raising money that way a long time ago. I opposed the plan when the Council proposed it. I reminded them that The Call wasn't founded as a criminal conspiracy. I reminded them that one of our missions is to set an example. We can't cut corners because our cause is just. If we do, we're no better than the Other Races. And it sets a precedent we'll pay for later."

The man was heated up for a speech. Maybe he was was a true believer. I cut him off. "Looks to me like you've got a good counterargument now." a true believer. I cut him off. "Looks to me like you've got a good counterargument now."

"Possibly. But I doubt it." He paused. I had nothing to say so that's what I said. He continued, "It's all out of control, Garrett. It's like riding a lion. The beast answers the reins if the mood takes it. And the G.o.ds help me if I try to get off." And again with the calculating look.

"What do you want from me? Looks like the Outfit sent a message. Emphatically. You were lucky. You survived it. They'll let you alone if it looks like it took. I say don't aggravate them. Chodo is way less friendly than Belinda."

"Did she set me up?"

"Probably." My guess was, Belinda just thought on her feet and improvised. "Maybe that was why she wanted to meet you."

His pride was bruised more deeply than his flesh. Marengo North English thought well of himself. What kind of world was it where a woman could use him as knife fodder? "You know Belinda. Talk to her."

Was he going to whine? "If you've checked me out, you know I know Chodo better than I know Belinda." Unless she'd developed a true-confession habit.

North English smiled enigmatically. Maybe he knew more than I thought he could. He winced, closed his eyes. His wounds still hurt badly.

79.

"What actually happened last night?" I asked North English, after we took time for him to rest and take a painkiller.

"I'd arranged to meet Belinda at a rooming house on the far north side. She said the place belonged to her family."

"Remember the name of the street?"

"I don't. That was the driver's responsibility." When I frowned, he said, "I don't think it had one." He colored slightly.

"You went into an elven neighborhood?" Elves don't get excited about frills like street names or house numbers.

"Just the edge. n.o.body would expect to find me there."

"No. But somebody did."

"Yes." North English proceeded to describe the attack on his coach, which occurred soon after it entered that street. It mimicked the attack on Belinda's coach.

Was that coincidence?

Quite possibly he'd had an earlier close call and didn't yet realize it. Belinda had asked him to meet her at The Palms. And CeeJay Carlyle had been with Belinda when she headed for her postparty rendezvous. Did Crask and Sadler mess everything up?

I asked, "Should I talk to your coachman?"

"If you know a good necromancer, you might. I'm the only survivor. They didn't get me dragged out of the coach fast enough."

There'd be no way of double-checking details short of consulting the men who had tried to kill him. I had a suspicion that was a long-shot daydream.

The details didn't matter. Had to be Belinda's doing. And Marengo knew that. But I wondered if she might not have had more than one motive.

Her attack had been extremely vigorous, even for her. If, indeed, she had ordered the attack. It risked warfare now and persecution later if The Call enjoyed any enduring political success.

She must've decided that the Outfit had to make a clear, definitive statement incapable of being misunderstood by anybody. Which might mean she hadn't just been responding to business encroachments.

Just suppose Marengo had had some remote connection with the attack on Belinda...

I decided that he must have had. Based upon no evidence whatsoever.

Poor Marengo! That made him a zombie, dead but still walking toward the knife.

Somebody had brought Crask and Sadler back. Those two were fearless but they weren't stupid and were only marginally crazy. They knew lots of people wanted to carve them up.