Book 04 - Old Tin Sorrows by Glen Cook Page A

should know what I think is happening. Should I pursue it?”
    “Yes!” He paused. “It doesn’t add up. Theft that’s almost petty. Someone possibly trying to poison me. Someone trying to kill everyone else.”
    “That’s true. I can’t make it add up.”
    “I don’t want to believe you, Mr. Garrett. I know those men better than that . . . Two attempts on your life?”
    I told him about them.
    He nodded. “I don’t suppose you . . . No. I believe you. Get Dellwood.”
    I rose. “A question first, General?”
    “Go ahead.”
    “Could an outsider be responsible? Do you have enemies vicious enough to try to set your house against itself?”
    “I have enemies. A man my age, who’s been what I’ve been? Of course I have enemies. But I don’t think any of them would try for the pain in something like this . . . There’d still have to be an inside man, wouldn’t there?”
    I nodded, opened the door. Dellwood was in the hall a decorous distance away. “The boss wants you.”
     
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16
    I’ll say this for that old man: He took the bull by the horns. I didn’t think he was doing the smart thing, but it was his house, his life, his sanity, and his choice to take the risk.
    He had Dellwood bring everybody in and get them seated. He had me stand beside him, facing them. They looked at him and me and wondered while Peters and Chain looked for Snake. Kaid tossed logs on the bonfire. I sweated.
    Nobody said a word.
    Then Jennifer tried. She barely got her mouth open. The General said, “Wait.” One word, softly, that stung like a whip’s bite.
    Snake ambled in with Chain and Peters. He’d tried to clean himself up. He hadn’t done a great job but passed inspection well enough to be given a seat. Stantnor said, “Close the door, Peters. Lock it. Thank you. Hand me the key, please.”
    Peters did so. The others watched with varying expressions, mostly in the frown range.
    “Thank you for coming.” As if they’d had any choice. “We have a problem.” He reached out. I put his will in his hand. He’d let me read it while we waited. It was an invitation to mayhem, incredibly naive.
    “My will. You know the details. I’ve hit you over the head with them often enough. They seem to have created the problem. Therefore.”
    A candle sat on the table before him. He shoved the end of the will into the flame, held it till it caught, laid it on the table, and let it burn.
    I watched them watch it. They were shocked. They may have been disappointed or outraged. But they didn’t move, didn’t protest, didn’t fall down and confess.
    “That instrument has been a murder weapon, sure as any blade. But I won’t make a speech. There’s the fact. Motive has been eliminated. The will has been abrogated. I’ll write a new one in a few days.”
    He looked them in the eye, one by one. Nobody shied away. Everybody looked baffled and dismayed.
    Dellwood said, “Sir, I don’t understand.”
    “I certainly hope you don’t. Those of you who don’t, be patient. It will become clear. First, though, I want to introduce the man next to me. His name is Garrett. Mr. Garrett is an investigative specialist, amongst other talents. I employed Mr. Garret to find out who’s been stealing from me. His efforts have been quite to my satisfaction so far.”
    The old boy was a chess player.
    “Mr. Garrett found evidence of more heinous crimes. He’s convinced me that some of you have been killing your comrades to gain a larger share of my legacy.”
    “Sir!” Dellwood protested. The others stirred, looked at each other.
    “Mr. Garrett
was
a scout during his service, Dellwood. He tracked today’s poacher back to our stable.”
    He wasn’t maundering or speaking imprecisely. He wanted them to think I’d done just that, not lost the trail in the fields. He wanted somebody to feel pressed.
    “Mr. Garrett has an excellent reputation for handling these things. I’ve asked him to find the killer. He’s agreed. I have every confidence in his ability. I tell you all this by way of letting you know