Book 03 - Cold Copper Tears Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Next time
you’re dead.”
    “Better not be a next time, chuko. Because I don’t
give second chances.”
    He laughed.
    One of us was crazy.
    I went away with a chill between my shoulders. What the hell was
all that? They hadn’t been out to rob me. They’d been
out to bust me up. Or kill me.
    Why? I didn’t know them.
    There are people who don’t have much use for me, but I
couldn’t think of any who would go that far. Not all of a
sudden, now. It was lightning out of a clear blue sky.
     
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7
    It never fails. When I step through the doorway into
Morley’s place, the joint goes dead and everybody stares.
They ought to be used to me by now. But I have this reputation for
thinking I’m on the side of the angels and a lot of those
guys are anything but.
    I saw Saucerhead Tharpe at his usual table, so I headed that
way. He was alone and had a spare chair.
    Before the noise level rose, a voice said, “I’ll be
damned! Garrett!” Whip crack with the name.
    What do you know? Morley himself was working the bar, helping
dispense the carrot, celery, and turnip juice. I’d never seen
that before. I wondered if he watered their drinks after
they’d had three or four.
    Dotes jerked his head toward the stairs. I said, “How you
doing?” to Saucerhead and sailed on by. He grunted and went
on massacring a salad big enough to founder three ponies. But he
was the size of three ponies and their mothers, too.
    Morley hit the stairs behind me. “Office?” I
asked.
    “Yes.”
    I went up and in. “Things have changed.” It looked
less like the waiting room in a bordello, maybe because the
inevitable lovely was absent. Morley, relaxing at home, always had
something handy.
    “I’m trying to change myself by changing my
environment.” That was Morley sounding like Morley the
vegetarian crackpot and devotee of obscure gurus. “What the
hell are you up to, Garrett?” That was Morley the thug.
    “Hey! How come the ice? I get antsy and walk down here to
maybe tip a rhubarb brew with Saucerhead and I—”
    “Right. You just decide to show up looking like the losing
mutt at a dogfight.” He shoved me in front of a mirror.
    The left side of my face was pancaked with blood. “Hell! I
thought I ducked.” The short guy had gotten me while we were
dancing, somehow. I still didn’t feel the cut. Some sharp
knife.
    “What happened?”
    “Some of your crazy cousins jumped me. Chukos.” I
showed him the three knives. They were identical, with eight-inch
blades and yellowed ivory grips into which small black stylized
bats had been inset.
    “Custom,” he said.
    “Custom,” I agreed.
    He picked up the speaking tube connecting with his barmen.
“Send me Puddle and Slade. And invite Tharpe if he’s
interested.” He smothered the tube, looked at me. “What
are you into now, Garrett?”
    “Nothing. I’m on vacation. Why? You looking for
another chance to kite me and get out from under your gambling
debts?” I realized it was the wrong thing to say before I
finished saying it. Morley was worried. When Morley Dotes worries
about me it’s time to shut my yap and listen.
    “Maybe I deserve that.” His cohorts Puddle and Slade
came in. Puddle I’d met before. He was a big, sloppy fat guy
with flesh sagging in gross rolls. He was as strong as a mammoth,
smart as a rock, cruel as a cat, quick as a cobra, and completely
loyal to Morley. Slade was new. He could have been Morley’s
brother. Short by human standards, he had the same slim, darkly
handsome looks, was graceful in motion, and was totally
self-confident. He, like Morley, was a flashy dresser, though
Morley had toned it down considerably tonight.
    Morley said, “I’ve managed not to put a bet down for
a month, Garrett. With my willpower and a little help from my
friends.”
    Morley had a bad problem with gambling. Twice he’s used me
to get out from under debts of lethal scale, which has been a cause
of friction.
    Morley’s vegetarian bar and restaurant