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.
     
     

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 and