Old Tin Sorrows (23 page)

“I think it’s probably for whatever’s to the advantage of the Stantnors. I wonder how it works in the east wing. That layout is different.”

“You’ve already checked this wing, right?”

“Except for the cellar.”

“You didn’t find any place your girlfriend could be hiding?”

“No.”

“You ask the cook about food shortages?”

“No.” I should have. She’d have to eat. I thought of her portrait. I’d better get the paintings into the house tonight.

“Let’s do this systematically. The cellar first, then the other wing. Seems probable the passages there start in the cellar.”

“Yeah.” As I recalled the layout, the walls all sat atop one another from the first floor upward.

We descended to the pantry quietly, listened. Nothing. On to the cellar.

It was your typical earthen floor cellar, deeper than my own, where I have to stoop, but vasty, dark and dusty, a wilderness of stone pillars supporting beams that supported joists. At first it seemed mostly empty and dusty and dry—though dry wasn’t a surprise. The house sat atop a hill. The builders would have arranged good drainage.

As we moved toward the east end we encountered evidence that an earlier regime had maintained a large wine cellar. Only the racks remained.

“Great place to get rid of bodies,” Morley remarked.

“They have their own graveyard for that.”

“Somebody sank a couple, three guys in that swamp.”

He had a point.

We completed a circuit of the east end finding little but the wine racks, broken furniture, and, near the foot of the steps, sausages and stores hanging so mice couldn’t reach them. I sneezed almost continuously.

“That’s the easy half,” Morley said. We started our circuit of the western end.

That end had less to recommend it or make it interesting, except for the supports and plumbing beneath the fountain. Those would have been of interest mainly to a plumber or engineer. There were no entries to hidden passages.

I said, “We just wasted three quarters of an hour.” And sneezed.

“Never a waste when you find something out. Even if it’s negative.”

“That’s my line. You’re supposed to grumble about wasted time.”

He chuckled. “Must be infecting each other. Let’s get out before the spiders gang up.”

I grunted, sneezed. Interesting. The cellar was almost vermin-free. Other than spiders there was very little wildlife. I’d have expected a sizable herd of mice.

I recalled the cats. “Can you smell anything? I’m deaf in the nose here.”

“What am I supposed to smell?”

“Cat shit.”

“What?”

“No mice. If there aren’t any, the cats must be on the job. The only cats I’ve seen are out in the barns. If they’re getting in here, there’s a way into the basement from the outside.”

“Oh.” His eyes got a little bigger. He started watching the edges of the light more closely. There was still a draug around somewhere.

He said, “We’re not going to find anything here. Let’s do the west wing.” He was uncomfortable. Usually he’s cool as a rock. That creepy house really worked on you.

I was about halfway up to the first floor when I caught the end of a cry. “Oh, damn! What now?”

Don’t ever try to run through unfamiliar territory in the dark, even with a lamp. Between us we nearly killed ourselves a half dozen times each before we made it to the great hall.

34

We burst into the light of the hall, where the Stantnors spared no expense on illumination. “What was it?” There was nothing shaking.

“Sounded like it came from here,” Morley said. “Looks like we’re first to arrive.”

“Oh, damn! Not quite. Damn! Damn! Damn!”

Chain had beaten us there. The dragonslayer and his victim had masked him from us at first. He was on the floor, crumpled in a way no man should be. He’d bounced once, some, and had left a big smear. Blood still leaked out of him.

“Looks like he came from the top balcony,” Morley said, with an artisan’s dispassion. “Tried to land on his feet and didn’t quite make it.” He glanced up. “He didn’t jump. And I’d bet you he didn’t trip over the rail. If I was a betting man.”

“Wouldn’t touch the bet at a thousand to one.” The fall wasn’t much more than thirty feet. For Chain it must have seemed like a thousand.

Thirty feet is a bad fall, but people have survived it. If they have themselves under control or they’re lucky. Chain hadn’t been either.

I glimpsed movement on the opposite balcony, whirled. I expected to see my mystery blonde. I saw Jennifer instead, in her nightclothes, at the rail at the end of my hall. She looked down in a sort of daze. She was very pale.

Peters appeared right above us a moment later. “What the hell?” he bellowed, and came bounding downstairs.

“Stay with him,” I told Morley. “I’m going up there.” I indicated Jennifer.

Black Pete galloped up to Morley as I trotted away, mouthing questions too fast for anybody to shove an answer in sideways.

I was puffing my lungs out when I reached Jennifer, swearing that, when this one was over, I was going to work out every day. Right after I spent a week catching up on my sleep.

She was flushed now, so red she looked like she’d run a mile. She snapped, “Where were you? I’ve been trying to wake you up for ten minutes.”

“Huh?”

She stared at the floor, shivering. “You said . . . I thought you wanted me to . . . ”

Hell. I’d forgotten. Damned good thing she hadn’t come earlier. Especially damned good thing I hadn’t given her a key.

Standing there shy and shamefaced and looking vulnerable, in nightclothes that did little to hide the fact that she was one gorgeous hunk of woman, she made me react after all. I got all set to howl at the moon. Only Peters’s chatter downstairs kept my mind on business. Part of my mind on business. A small part of my mind.

“What do you know about this?” I jerked a thumb at Chain.

Her eyes got big. “Nothing.”

“Come on. You had to see or hear something.”

“All right. Don’t bully.” She eased a little closer, still shivering. Business, boy, mind on business. “I sneaked out of my room about thirty minutes ago. When I got to the end of my hall, Chain and Peters were down by the fountain. They were just sitting there. Like they were waiting for something to happen. I couldn’t get to the stairs without them seeing me. So I waited. The more I waited, the more scared I got. I was ready to chicken out when Peters said something to Chain and started upstairs. Chain turned his back, so I hurried up to the fourth floor, before Peters saw me . . . 

“Chain must have seen me when I was sneaking toward the loft stair. He yelled. I went up and over. When I got to your side he was on the fourth floor, going into the hall to my father’s suite. I ran down your hall to your door and tried to get you to answer. You didn’t. I kept trying. Then I heard that yell. I didn’t know what to do. I was scared. I tried to hide in the shadows at the end of the hall until I heard your voice.”

“You didn’t see anybody but Peters and Chain?”

“No. I told you.”

“Huh.” I thought a moment. “You’d better get back to your suite. Before anybody else comes out. Peters’s questions will be troublesome enough.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” I followed her to the stairs, up to the loft and across. The darkness there didn’t bother her a bit. We parted at the head of the stair to the third-floor balcony. I said, “I’ll come talk to you as soon as we’ve settled things down.”

“All right.” A quavery mouse voice. She was scared as hell. I didn’t blame her. I was scared myself.

Chain was dead. Helped along. My favorite suspect. My almost certain killer. Gone. Out of the picture. Meaning I’d wanted to nail the wrong hide to the wall. Unless he’d tried to do unto another and got it done to him in self-defense.

I walked along the balcony to the point where, I guessed, he’d gone over. Morley and Peters were quiet now, watching me.

“He got wool pants on?” I asked.

“Yes,” Morley replied.

There were strands of wool on the rail. There were scratches and flecks of skin, too, like he’d tried to grab hold as he’d gone over. Minute scraps of evidence but they made me certain he’d been shoved. I pictured him standing there, looking down, maybe talking to somebody, when he got a sudden boost with barely enough oomph on it. Maybe he’d even needed a little extra help after he’d started going.

Sometimes I suffer too much empathy for men who die untimely deaths. I picture the thing and conjure the feelings they must have felt as the realization hit them. Falling scares hell out of me. I had more than the usual ration of compassion for Chain.

What would it take, about a second of free fall? All of it intense with fear and wild desperation and vain hope, trying to adjust to take the fall and maybe, just maybe, survive?

I shuddered. This one was going to haunt me.

Trying hard not to think about it, I clumped down to the ground floor. I hurt everywhere. I wasn’t in a good mood at all. “What’s your story, Sarge?”

He was taken aback by my intensity. But he excused it. “We were waiting for the draug.” There was a collection of instruments of mayhem lying in the fountain. I hadn’t noticed before. “Kaid and Wayne were going to take the next watch, in about an hour. I had to take a leak. I didn’t want to go outside so I headed for my room.”

“You took a long time taking a leak.”

“Found out I had to do more once I got there. You want to check? It’s still warm.”

“Take his word for it, Garrett.” Morley isn’t your dedicated investigator, willing to stir fouled chamberpots in search of damning evidence. I’m not that devoted myself. Anyway, I believed Peters. He’d have come up with an alibi less dumb if he was going to toss somebody off a balcony.

I was about out of suspects.

Which meant I had to open the whole thing up and suspect everybody again. Even the unlikelies.

Shares of the legacy were worth over six hundred thousand now. If the value of the estate wasn’t falling faster than the murderer could expand his share.

Peters. Cook. Wayne. Who? For no sound reason I gave Wayne top billing. And Cook was starting to look better, though she had pretty good alibis. But alibis aren’t everything.

“I guess the killer knows there’s a copy of the will,” I told Peters. “That means the General could be in double jeopardy.”

“What?”

“After last night the killer has to worry about the other copies going, too. They do, all his risks have gone for nothing. So maybe he’ll want the old man to check out before the last copy of the will does. Better find out exactly how many there were and where they’re at now.” I tapped my shirt to make sure I had my copy.

Not that it was particularly safe with me, considering I was no more immortal than Chain, Hawkes, or Bradon.

Snake popped into mind, and after Snake, his paintings. I had to get those inside.

But it was pouring out. Maybe headed for something worse. There was the occasional flash of lightning. I said, “Getting around to the kind of weather that suits this place. All we need is something howling and ghost lights puttering around outside.”

Peters snorted. “You get the next best thing. A frisky draug.” He pointed.

There it was, back at the rear again, trying to get in. A lightning flash illuminated it. I got my first good look. It was more decomposed than the others.

Peters selected a few items from the stockpile in the fountain. “Shall we take care of it?”

“That’s my old sergeant, Morley. Cool in the face of the enemy.”

“Uhm.” He went through the arsenal himself. Here was something he could get a hold on.

“All right. I guess we should take care of it. Get it out of the way.” I checked their leavings. They’d taken all the best stuff already. “Hell with this.” I went and disarmed a retired knight.

I had to be getting close to the end. There weren’t many suits of armor left for me to vandalize.

35

Morley sat on the fountain surround hugging cracked ribs. Peters was curled up on the floor in a pool of vomit, clutching his groin. He did his manly best not to whimper. Me, I’d been luckier. All I’d come up with was a shin bruise and a badly stomped foot. Not on the same leg. “Maybe next time I’ll save myself some grief and let whoever wants kill me.”

Morley gasped, “Why didn’t you say the man was a hand-to-hand specialist when he was alive?”

“Don’t look at me! I didn’t know anything about him. Not even who he was.”

Pieces of draug were scattered all over. Some still moved.

“What now?”

“Eh?”

“You burned the other two. Right?”

“One of them, I know.”

“Both,” Peters groaned. He got onto his knees, his forehead on the floor. His knuckles were bone white. He’d gotten hit bad. “They dumped the other one into the stable fire when they saw there wasn’t no stopping it.” He didn’t say that in one chunk but in little gasps, a word or two at a time. The effort cost him a spate of dry heaves.

I felt for him, though not as much as I would have if I hadn’t been hurting myself.

I got up. “Better make sure we got the job done.” The thing looked like it was trying to get itself back together. The pieces were trying to get to a central point. I hobbled, pitching random limbs back.

“What the hell’s going on down there?”

I looked up. Wayne and Kaid had appeared for their shift, at the third-floor rail. “Come on down. We’re in no shape to finish this.”

Wayne beat Kaid by a floor. He looked at what was left of Chain, at the pieces of rotted corpse, at Chain again. “Man. Man, oh, man. Man.” He didn’t say anything else till he asked, “What happened?”

I told him. Kaid arrived in time to get it all.

“Man. Man, oh, man.” Wayne was scared. For the first time since I arrived I saw one of those people convinced of his own mortality.

“Hell. You’re all a hundred thousand richer now.”

“Man. I don’t care about that. I don’t need it. It ain’t worth it. I’m out of here soon as it’s light enough that nothing can sneak up on me.”