reminder I had not left the
house without my convincing stick, eighteen inches of oak with a
pound of lead in its active end. It proved useful on this
unfriendly night.
I tapped my new friend just below the kneecap on each leg, not
hard enough to break anything. Just hard enough to turn his legs to
water temporarily. I didn’t want him able to put up much of a
fight when I took his precious boots.
He understood before I got the first boot off. He started
yelping. He called for help. He begged for mercy. The Goddamn
Parrot came down and chimed in, carrying on loudly in several
obviously nonhuman voices. Not that any witnesses were likely to
drop their street sense in order to jump in and rescue any of us.
That was not the way of the city.
“You sonofabitch, you want to keep your pretty boots,
you’d better get real cooperative real sudden.” I
thumped Mr. Gonlit once atop each shoulder, briskly, not far from
the sides of his neck.
Instantly, Bic began to have trouble lifting his arms.
The little man was tough in his way. He never stopped
struggling—until I dragged the second boot off him. Then he
went limp again. Without volunteering to make my life any
easier.
“Bic, I’m gonna take your shoes home with me. Maybe
give me a good shine.” It had been my intention to drag him
along with me, too, but I’d just heard a troubling sound, one
I’d honestly never expected to hear. But rumors had been
circulating for weeks so I recognized it in plenty of time.
The sound was a whistle. Rather like the shrill of a
boat-swain’s pipe. Somebody from the guard’s foot
patrol wasn’t far away and he’d heard that there was
trouble. He was summoning assistance.
Changing times. Relway and Block just have way too many ideas
for advancing the case of law and order. Not that I mind too much
when they interfere in someone else’s business. But my
business is mine.
I said, “My friend and I have to run. I’ll take good
care of your boots. You know where to find them. When the mood hits
you, drop by the house. You can pick them up.”
I was drawing to an inside straight, betting his boots were that
important to him. I would’ve talked more but now whistles
from several sources were sounding closer and closer.
I headed for home. I was halfway there before I realized that
the Goddamn Parrot wasn’t with me. When I got home I went
straight to the Dead Man to find out why.
The manner in which you dealt with the exigencies of your
situation seems well chosen. However, it did leave considerable
leeway in the hands of Mr. Gonlit. It seemed prudent to keep
watching eyes and a nagging voice somewhere near him. Lest he
surrender to a fit of common sense and just abandon his
boots.
You do have those still? Excellent. Would you summon Miss
Pular? She is in the kitchen helping herself to a snack. Dean has
retired for the night.
We will try to discover why the boots mean so much to our
rotund nemesis.
Did you, by the by, discover how it was that he was able to
see in the dark?
“ ’Fraid not. The question went right out of my head
when I heard those whistles.”
Old Bones was wide-awake and in rare form, nothing escaping the
notice of his several minds. I wasn’t going to be allowed
anything less than wide-awake myself until he sucked up all the
outside information he wanted.
----
----
18
Singe sniffed Gonlit’s boots. That wasn’t a task I
envied her. Their fragrance had been less than appealing while I
was toting them, even carried at the ends of their strings. But
ratpeople don’t seem to be repelled by odors the same way we
humans are. Nor are they offended by the same scents.
Hard to credit in some cases but I’ve been around Singe
long enough to know that it’s true.
The famous Gonlit boots had soles layered more than two inches
thick. They had fake glass emeralds and rubies and little brass
rivet heads all over them. I thought they looked pretty shabby
these days. Maybe old Bic was farther down on his
house without my convincing stick, eighteen inches of oak with a
pound of lead in its active end. It proved useful on this
unfriendly night.
I tapped my new friend just below the kneecap on each leg, not
hard enough to break anything. Just hard enough to turn his legs to
water temporarily. I didn’t want him able to put up much of a
fight when I took his precious boots.
He understood before I got the first boot off. He started
yelping. He called for help. He begged for mercy. The Goddamn
Parrot came down and chimed in, carrying on loudly in several
obviously nonhuman voices. Not that any witnesses were likely to
drop their street sense in order to jump in and rescue any of us.
That was not the way of the city.
“You sonofabitch, you want to keep your pretty boots,
you’d better get real cooperative real sudden.” I
thumped Mr. Gonlit once atop each shoulder, briskly, not far from
the sides of his neck.
Instantly, Bic began to have trouble lifting his arms.
The little man was tough in his way. He never stopped
struggling—until I dragged the second boot off him. Then he
went limp again. Without volunteering to make my life any
easier.
“Bic, I’m gonna take your shoes home with me. Maybe
give me a good shine.” It had been my intention to drag him
along with me, too, but I’d just heard a troubling sound, one
I’d honestly never expected to hear. But rumors had been
circulating for weeks so I recognized it in plenty of time.
The sound was a whistle. Rather like the shrill of a
boat-swain’s pipe. Somebody from the guard’s foot
patrol wasn’t far away and he’d heard that there was
trouble. He was summoning assistance.
Changing times. Relway and Block just have way too many ideas
for advancing the case of law and order. Not that I mind too much
when they interfere in someone else’s business. But my
business is mine.
I said, “My friend and I have to run. I’ll take good
care of your boots. You know where to find them. When the mood hits
you, drop by the house. You can pick them up.”
I was drawing to an inside straight, betting his boots were that
important to him. I would’ve talked more but now whistles
from several sources were sounding closer and closer.
I headed for home. I was halfway there before I realized that
the Goddamn Parrot wasn’t with me. When I got home I went
straight to the Dead Man to find out why.
The manner in which you dealt with the exigencies of your
situation seems well chosen. However, it did leave considerable
leeway in the hands of Mr. Gonlit. It seemed prudent to keep
watching eyes and a nagging voice somewhere near him. Lest he
surrender to a fit of common sense and just abandon his
boots.
You do have those still? Excellent. Would you summon Miss
Pular? She is in the kitchen helping herself to a snack. Dean has
retired for the night.
We will try to discover why the boots mean so much to our
rotund nemesis.
Did you, by the by, discover how it was that he was able to
see in the dark?
“ ’Fraid not. The question went right out of my head
when I heard those whistles.”
Old Bones was wide-awake and in rare form, nothing escaping the
notice of his several minds. I wasn’t going to be allowed
anything less than wide-awake myself until he sucked up all the
outside information he wanted.
----
----
18
Singe sniffed Gonlit’s boots. That wasn’t a task I
envied her. Their fragrance had been less than appealing while I
was toting them, even carried at the ends of their strings. But
ratpeople don’t seem to be repelled by odors the same way we
humans are. Nor are they offended by the same scents.
Hard to credit in some cases but I’ve been around Singe
long enough to know that it’s true.
The famous Gonlit boots had soles layered more than two inches
thick. They had fake glass emeralds and rubies and little brass
rivet heads all over them. I thought they looked pretty shabby
these days. Maybe old Bic was farther down on his
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