Free Book 13 - Gilded Latten Bones by Glen Cook Page A

broken wooden mask with cast glass eyehole covers. Weird, huh? I hoped Pular Singe could do something with them. She said it’s too late. That trail is long gone.”
    “He was missing for ten days?”
    “Yes. Again.”
    “He really never told Sarge or Puddle or any of his mugs anything?”
    “No. I went there even before he turned up full of holes. We talked about this already.”
    “I have to ask over and over. You had a witness.”
    “One who can’t be found by anyone anymore.”
    “Put away for safekeeping.” In the river, with big rocks for shoes.
    “I’m thinking ringer. Not based on any evidence, just intuition.”
    “No marvelous body in tight black leather?”
    “Not him. We’ll find him eventually.”
    We would, of course. “I can’t see Morley wandering off for that long. For one night, maybe. But he’s a hands-on guy with his business.”
    “You’re not producing original thought.”
    “I’m not trying. I’m musing out loud. But here’s a question of personal interest. How close are you working with the Director?”
    “We pretend not to see each other poking around. Communication between foot soldiers will be overlooked.”
    “Last time our paths crossed, Relway was putting together teams of specialists. One was supposed to do forensic sorcery.”
    “The Specials. There are a dozen squads, now, and more to come.”
    “If the forensic sorcery group is up, maybe you can get Relway to check out this place when you visit it.”
    “I’ll suggest it. But the red tops don’t give a shit about Morley.”
    I eyeballed Dotes. What secrets would we prize forth once he could sit up and talk? He looked more relaxed. The drops in the water must have been working.
    “There is one obvious answer to why Morley was missing for ten days.”
    “He was a prisoner.”
    “Fits what we know. And might explain why someone tried to kill him, assuming he escaped.”
    “He showed no signs of having been restrained.”
    I picked up a hand, looked at the wrist. Nothing, of course. “Meaning he wasn’t kept in chains.”
    Belinda stood at the window and watched the street, likely not seeing anything. “I’m considering changing my mind.”
    “About?”
    “Moving Morley to your house.”
    “Really?” Warily.
    “Two birds, I think. He wouldn’t be safer anywhere else. And your partner could find out things we need to know.”
    Belinda is ever-capable of doing the startling thing.
    “One problem. Old Bones is dead to the world right now.”
    “You always say that.”
    “This time it’s true. Actually, it’s almost always true.”
    “And you’re here. The one man able to stir the relict out of his dreams.”
    Marginally true.
    Crush and DeeDee arrived.

23
    As mistress of an empire spanning the full underbelly of TunFaire, employing more than a thousand people, Belinda had obligations outside Fire and Ice. And she had digging to do. Yet she just sat there staring at Morley, muttering, while seated on a hard folding chair, courtesy of the genius of Kip Prose and the production acumen of the Amalgamated Manufacturing Combine.
    Miss Tea had brought four chairs.They took hardly any room when folded. No doubt they cost a fortune. And cheap knock-offs would be available within weeks if I remained unavailable to fight for Amalgamated’s intellectual property rights.
    There are laws but we have to enforce them ourselves.
    “Belinda?”
    She did not respond.
    “Hey. Girl. Listen up. Investigator working here. Let’s get on with the questions and answers.”
    She turned weary eyes my way.
    “A long time ago, two days and a few hours, you told me some things about Morley’s situation. There have been changes since, all moving toward the less specific and more ambiguous.”
    “That can happen when you talk to witnesses.”
    “True. You had an eyewitness. Now you don’t?”
    “Like I told you, he disappeared. His story didn’t hold water, anyway.”
    “A ringer.”
    “Looking back, I think he was