everything." Nobody who'd studied me would try to take me in my own house. The Dead Man doesn't get out much, but that hasn't kept him from acquiring a reputation.
I patted Winger's considerable shoulder. It was rock hard. "Live and learn, sweetheart." I finished my mug, strolled across the hall. "What's the story, Smiley?"
No story, Garrett. She has told you everything. She is looking for a book. This is her first job in TunFaire. She was hired by a man named Lubbock. He paid her thirty marks to shake you down. He will give her forty more if she finds the book.
"Interesting coincidence. What's she know about that gang yesterday?"
Nothing. Obviously she was selected for that reason. She can tell no one anything because she knows nothing.
"I guess friend Lubbock did his research."
Perhaps.
"She has an accent." She was Karentine but from way out there somewhere.
Hender. West Midlands.
"Never heard of it."
Not surprising. Population less than a hundred. A farming village. A suggestion. Assuming your curiosity has been piqued, as mine has, have her watched. Her contacts might prove interesting. It seems likely that Lubbock is not her employer's real name. She believes it to be a pseudonym herself.
Sounded good to me. Something was going on. And I don't like sitting around waiting for things to happen. "Right. Can't use Saucerhead, though. She knows his face. I could dash over to Morley's."
Quickly?
Sarky old clown can put a lot into a single word. He'd recovered from his earlier consideration for my feelings, was back to letting me know what he thought of my ways.
"I'm gone."
I got back faster than either of us expected. I had some luck.
Saucerhead was still loafing on the stoop. He hadn't finished the pitcher Dean had provided for my run. He had company again, a local blackheart called Squirrel. I don't know Squirrel's real name. I never heard him called anything else. He was a skinny little gink with atrocious posture, a pointy face and buckteeth, and huge ears that stuck straight out from the side of his head. He'd have trouble making any headway walking into a light breeze.
They didn't call him Squirrel because of his looks.
Somebody left something out when they gave him his brains. He was a first-class goolball.
And a second-class thug.
He worked for Chodo Contague. He was more than a gofer but not one of the heavyweights, like Sadler and Crask. I didn't know Squirrel well but did know he wasn't somebody who was going to elevate the standards of the neighborhood.
I looked at him. He gave me a grin full of teeth. Friendly as hell. That was Squirrel. Always trying to be your pal—till it came time to put a knife in your back. Squirrel desperately wanted to be liked. And wanted to make Chodo's first team even more. "Garrett. The boss heard about your trouble." Chodo hears everything, "Sent me over to help. Said if you need anything, just yell. Said he don't hold with anybody hurting women."
Sure he didn't. Unless they worked for him, showed a wisp of independence. But he probably doesn't consider hookers women.
I didn't want to take anything from Chodo, but, on the other hand, using Squirrel was so damned convenient. So what the hell "You showed up at the perfect time."
Squirrel grinned. He loved praise. If that was praise. Weird little guy. "How's your woman, Garrett? I should've asked. Chodo wanted to know. Said he'd send somebody to look after her if you want."
"She'll be fine. Her family is taking care of her." They could afford the same quality care Chodo could provide. "If something turns bad, they'll let me know." Willard would do that. He'd expect me to hunt down everybody even remotely responsible if Tinnie died. Then he'd cut out their livers and eat them.
"So I'm right on time. What can I do for you?"
I shivered. Squirrel had a whiny voice to go with an ingratiating manner. Slimy little weasel. But dangerous. Very dangerous.
"There's a woman going to come out of here. Tall blonde amazon