Free Book 09 - Faded Steel Heat by Glen Cook Page B

remember his name.”
    “Kessel,” Lancelyn said. “Milo Kessel. Skibber
Kessel is his uncle. Mr. Klees hired him. As a favor to Skibber. I
was there when they discussed it.”
    “We can talk to them, then. Don’t beat on those two
anymore, Garrett. And what should we do with the rest of
them?”
    “Whatever you do with trespassers.”
    “Keelhaul ’em,” the Goddamn Parrot
suggested.
    I continued, “Beat them some more and toss them into the
canal. Hello.”
    “What?”
    “All of them have one of these armbands tucked
away.” I lifted one. It was the black and red and blue common
to all the human rights groups. This one boasted a black two-headed
dragon on a red field as its main device. “I don’t
recognize this.”
    Nobody else claimed any knowledge, either. Ty said,
“Lance, get them up and get them out of here. Ike, Mays, lend
a hand.”
    I asked, “Is there any reason one of the nut groups would
want me to stay away from here? I’m part of the
scenery.”
    “Who knew you were coming?” Right to the point, old
Ty.
    “Nobody,” I fibbed. He should know, though, unless
he didn’t talk to his intended. Nicks wouldn’t be
hiding what she and Alyx were doing from her fiancé, even if Alyx
wanted. Or would she? “But I’ve been here long enough
for somebody to send out for help. Only, what would political guys
be afraid that I’d find?”
    “These people are mainly lower-class veterans, Garrett.
You need money to become a political force. Did you check to see if
someone’s been skimming again?”
    “I did. I didn’t catch any bad smells.”
    “I’ll reexamine the accounts myself. I’ll let
you know if I find anything. You say my father wanted to see
you?”
    “Gilbey caught me on the dock. Soon as I finished I headed
for the big house.”
    “Dad’s probably grumbling about you taking so long.
I’ll let you know what these two have to say. If they
don’t talk, they’ll be looking for work.”
    The unknowns were headed for the street already, partly under
their own power. Those boys would have a fine crop of aches and
bruises in the morning.
    Not me, though. I’d saved myself all that by moving fast
and hitting hard,
first.
Just what Morley has been
preaching for so long. Pretty soon I’d be leaving them with
their throats cut.
    Ty muttered, “I’m going to be late again.” He
worked his chair around until he was right in there with the
brewery employees, both of whom were conscious now. “Lance.
We’ll question Hanbe first. No sense upsetting Skibber Kessel
if we don’t have to.”
    The Goddamn Parrot dropped out of the gloom, satisfied that it
was safe to show his ugly beak around me again.
    Ty started. Then he grinned. “Put one on the other
shoulder, too, Garrett. Add a tricorner hat, a bad limp, some
facial scars, and an eye patch. You could pass yourself off as
Captain Scarlet.” He smirked.
    The Goddamn Parrot brings out the worst in everybody. Except
me.
    “I’ll just go see your dad now.”
    “ Yo ho ho.”
     
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18
    Manvil Gilbey was waiting for me. I barely finished cranking the
bell handle before he stuck his bleak face outside. I was
surprised. A stiffneck named Gerris Genord usually answered the
door.
    His nose rolled up instantly. “What in the
world? . . . Are you aware of the state of your
apparel?”
    “Plenty. I was headed over here. I got ambushed in the
stable. I’ll want to talk that over with the boss, too. But
first, why don’t I go around back, shuck out of all this
horse flavoring, and wash down? If you’ve got somebody who
can bring me a towel and something else to wear.”
    “Thoughtful of you, Garrett. Take care you don’t
fall afoul of any pigs or cattle on your journey.”
    “Careful is my new middle name.”
    The Goddamn Parrot decided that was his cue to laugh. He sounded
like a donkey braying.
    I strolled around to the tradesman’s gate. I waited there
for ten minutes. I started talking to myself, or maybe thinking