to popular imagining I’m not a law unto
myself. I’m one tree in a forest of hierarchy.”
“A tall tree.”
He smiled. “Yes. A tall one. But only one. I’ll have
to consult my peers and ask for a policy decision. Bear with me a
few hours. If they want to pursue this I’ll give you the
information at my disposal. Whatever the decision, I’ll be in
touch. I’ll see you’re compensated for what
you’ve already done.”
How very thoughtful of him. How did such a nice guy get such a
nasty reputation?
He was being nice because he wanted something he couldn’t
get by tossing me into a cell and pulling my nails. I said,
“I have to get moving on my own hunt.”
“I’ll get in touch at your home. Before you
go—”
I interrupted. “The name Jill Craight mean anything to
you?”
“No. Should it?”
“I don’t know. Pokey died in an apartment occupied
by a Jill Craight.”
“I see. Would you hold on a minute?” He opened a
cabinet. “I don’t want to lose another man. I want you
to take something as a hedge against the kind of surprises that got
Pigotta.” He pawed around amongst several hundred small
bottles and phials, selected three.
He placed those on the table, three colorful soldiers all in a
row: royal blue, ruby, and emerald. Each bottle was two inches
tall. Each had a cork stopper. He said, “The ultimate product
of my art. Use the blue where maximum confusion would benefit you.
Use the green where death is your only other out. Break the bottles
or just unstop them. That doesn’t matter.”
He took a deep breath, lifted the red bottle carefully.
“This is the heavyweight. Be careful. It’s deadly.
Throw it against a hard surface at least fifty feet away. You
don’t want to be any closer. Run if you have the chance. Got
that?”
I nodded.
“Be careful. Twenty years from now I want to tip one with
you and reminisce about the bad old days.”
“Careful is my middle name, Magister.” I put the
bottles away gingerly, where I could grab them in a hurry. Garrett
never argues with a gift horse. I can always deal it to the glue
works.
I sneaked a peek at his cabinet. What could those other bottles
do? They came in every color. “Thanks. I can find my way
out.” I shot my final question as I neared the door.
“You ever hear of a cult that cuts its members? Takes all
their equipment, not just their testicles?”
He blanched. I mean, he really turned white. For a second I
thought his hair would change. But he showed no other reaction. He
lied, “No. That’s grisly. Is it important?”
Lie to me, I’ll lie to you. “No. It came up in a
bull session the other night. The weather was pretty drunk out.
Somebody heard something like that from somebody who heard
something about it from somebody else. You know how that goes. You
can’t trace the source.”
“Yes. Good day, Mr. Garrett.” Suddenly he wanted me
out of there.
“Good day, Magister.”
I closed the door behind me. Smiling Sampson was right there to
make sure I had no trouble finding the street.
----
----
22
A drizzle had started. The breeze had freshened. I put my head
down and walked into it, grumbling. I wouldn’t be out in this
if the world would learn to leave me alone. How thoughtless of
it.
Head down with not much going on inside—some would say
that’s the normal state of my bean—I trudged toward
that small district beyond the Hill where both city and Crown
maintain their civil offices. I hoped the Royal Assay people could
tell me what Peridont wouldn’t.
He had recognized the coins.
I didn’t believe much of what he’d told
me—though some of it might have been true. I disbelieved only
selectively. I took nothing at face. Everywhere I turned religion
popped up, and that’s a game of masks and deceits and
illusions if ever there was one.
My course took me within a block of the Blue Bottle, where
curiosities Smith and Smith had holed up. Wouldn’t hurt to
stop by, see what Maya had missed.
The
myself. I’m one tree in a forest of hierarchy.”
“A tall tree.”
He smiled. “Yes. A tall one. But only one. I’ll have
to consult my peers and ask for a policy decision. Bear with me a
few hours. If they want to pursue this I’ll give you the
information at my disposal. Whatever the decision, I’ll be in
touch. I’ll see you’re compensated for what
you’ve already done.”
How very thoughtful of him. How did such a nice guy get such a
nasty reputation?
He was being nice because he wanted something he couldn’t
get by tossing me into a cell and pulling my nails. I said,
“I have to get moving on my own hunt.”
“I’ll get in touch at your home. Before you
go—”
I interrupted. “The name Jill Craight mean anything to
you?”
“No. Should it?”
“I don’t know. Pokey died in an apartment occupied
by a Jill Craight.”
“I see. Would you hold on a minute?” He opened a
cabinet. “I don’t want to lose another man. I want you
to take something as a hedge against the kind of surprises that got
Pigotta.” He pawed around amongst several hundred small
bottles and phials, selected three.
He placed those on the table, three colorful soldiers all in a
row: royal blue, ruby, and emerald. Each bottle was two inches
tall. Each had a cork stopper. He said, “The ultimate product
of my art. Use the blue where maximum confusion would benefit you.
Use the green where death is your only other out. Break the bottles
or just unstop them. That doesn’t matter.”
He took a deep breath, lifted the red bottle carefully.
“This is the heavyweight. Be careful. It’s deadly.
Throw it against a hard surface at least fifty feet away. You
don’t want to be any closer. Run if you have the chance. Got
that?”
I nodded.
“Be careful. Twenty years from now I want to tip one with
you and reminisce about the bad old days.”
“Careful is my middle name, Magister.” I put the
bottles away gingerly, where I could grab them in a hurry. Garrett
never argues with a gift horse. I can always deal it to the glue
works.
I sneaked a peek at his cabinet. What could those other bottles
do? They came in every color. “Thanks. I can find my way
out.” I shot my final question as I neared the door.
“You ever hear of a cult that cuts its members? Takes all
their equipment, not just their testicles?”
He blanched. I mean, he really turned white. For a second I
thought his hair would change. But he showed no other reaction. He
lied, “No. That’s grisly. Is it important?”
Lie to me, I’ll lie to you. “No. It came up in a
bull session the other night. The weather was pretty drunk out.
Somebody heard something like that from somebody who heard
something about it from somebody else. You know how that goes. You
can’t trace the source.”
“Yes. Good day, Mr. Garrett.” Suddenly he wanted me
out of there.
“Good day, Magister.”
I closed the door behind me. Smiling Sampson was right there to
make sure I had no trouble finding the street.
----
----
22
A drizzle had started. The breeze had freshened. I put my head
down and walked into it, grumbling. I wouldn’t be out in this
if the world would learn to leave me alone. How thoughtless of
it.
Head down with not much going on inside—some would say
that’s the normal state of my bean—I trudged toward
that small district beyond the Hill where both city and Crown
maintain their civil offices. I hoped the Royal Assay people could
tell me what Peridont wouldn’t.
He had recognized the coins.
I didn’t believe much of what he’d told
me—though some of it might have been true. I disbelieved only
selectively. I took nothing at face. Everywhere I turned religion
popped up, and that’s a game of masks and deceits and
illusions if ever there was one.
My course took me within a block of the Blue Bottle, where
curiosities Smith and Smith had holed up. Wouldn’t hurt to
stop by, see what Maya had missed.
The
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