9
I got a drink, but I did it after I got home, after I sent Dean off and got the place locked up. I drew a pitcher off the keg in the cold well, took it to the office, put my feet up and tried to brainstorm.
I had a tempest in a beer mug.
I came up with no angles at all.
I considered a connection with Jill Craight's visit. I considered one with the holy terror. If the connection was there, nothing betrayed it.
In any case, Snowball's bunch would have started from the North End before Peridont reached my place.
I reflected on old cases, trying to recall individuals who might be vindictive enough to want me smoked. There could be some out there, but I couldn't come up with any names.
What if Snowball had simply picked the wrong target? Suppose he was after somebody else?
Pure reason liked that hypothesis. Intuition screamed, "Bullshit!”
Somebody wanted me dead. And I didn't have a notion why, let alone who.
Maybe the Dead Man could spot a fact I'd overlooked. I wandered across the hall. No good. He was out of it. I worked off some nervous energy cleaning, then went back to the office to settle down and think it all through again.
I was still there when Dean pounded on the door in the morning. I was so stiff it was a task getting down the hall to the door. Morley wasn't all wrong when he talked about me abusing myself. I'm not seventeen anymore. The body won't stay in tune by itself. I pinched a few pounds of muscle that had drifted south. I needed to get more selective about my loafing.
I would start exercising first thing tomorrow. I didn't feel up to it today. My schedule was full, anyway.
I went upstairs and napped in a real bed while Dean started in the kitchen. He woke me when he had breakfast ready.
"You sure you're all right?" he asked when he brought my hotcakes. I hadn't told him much. "You look like hell.”
"Thanks. You're one of Nature's great beauties yourself. '' I knew what he meant. But I have to ride him or he thinks I don't appreciate him. "You should've seen the other guys.”
"I expect it's just as well I didn't." Someone rapped at the door. "I'll get it.”
I grunted around a mouthful of hotcakes smothered in blueberry preserves.
Our visitor was Jill Craight. Dean brought her into the kitchen. Remarkable. She really had him whammied.
She didn't have as much impact this morning. She hadn't fixed herself up for it. She looked like she'd had a bad night. And she was spoiling for a fight.
"Good morning, Miss Craight. Won't you join me?”
She sat. She took tea when Dean offered it but declined anything more substantial. She had fire in her eyes. Too bad it wasn't for me. "I had a visit from a man named Waldo Tharpe.”
"Saucerhead? Good man. Though sometimes his manners lack polish.”
"His manners were adequate. He told me he was supposed to find out who was giving me trouble. He told me you sent him.”
"I did. Anybody ever tell you you're beautiful when you're mad?”
"Men tell me I'm beautiful whatever my mood. It's bullshit. Why did you send that man? I hired you.”
"You brought me a situation you didn't like. I sent somebody to take care of it. Where's your problem?”
"I hired you.”
"And only I will do?”
She nodded.
"That's great for the ego, but—”
"I didn't pay for some second-rate unknown.”
"Interesting. Considering Saucerhead is probably better known than I am." I looked her hard in the eye for a dozen seconds, until she shifted her attention to Dean. "I wonder what your real game is," I said softly.
She jerked her attention back to me.
"First you tried to con me. Then you gave me way too much money. If you wanted to buy a man to impress somebody, anybody who knows me will know Saucerhead. And be more intimidated by him. I'm a pussycat. Finally, and dearest to my heart, not five hours after you saw me, somebody tried to kill me.”
Her eyes got big. I had to remind myself she'd said she was an actress.
"It was a cold-blooded ambush, Jill. Five men, plus whoever did the watching and running messages. A major effort.”
Her eyes got bigger.
"You know an albino half-breed chuko called Snowball?”
She shook her head. It was a very impressive head. She was beautiful when she was frightened.
"How about a street gang called the Vampires?”
She shook her pretty head.
I had obviously recovered from my unpleasant night, because I was starting to pant. I slapped myself down. "What do you know? Anything? How about why you want to play me for a sucker. Or has that slipped your mind, too?”
She got mad again. But she swallowed her anger. She'd decided to clam.
I got up. "Come with me." Sometimes a good surprise loosens them up.
I took her into the Dead Man's room. Her response was cliché. "Yuk! That's gross!" But that was it.
I fished her retainer out from under the Dead Man's chair, which is the safest place in TunFaire. "I'll hang onto some of this, for Saucerhead's time and my aggravation." I took a couple coins in a gesture mainly symbolic, and handed the rest to her.
She eyed that purse like it was a snake. "What are you doing?”
"You're unhappy. I'm giving your money back and getting out of your life.”
"But …" She went into a huddle with herself. While the committee was in conference I sneered at the Dead Man. Brought one right in here with you, Chuckles.
I was trying to get two birds with one big hunk of alum.
There's no prod more effective than bringing a woman into the house. The prettier the gal the more heated the reaction. Jill Craight could set the house afire. If he was sandbagging he wouldn't be able to keep it up.
Damn him. He didn't do a thing. And I'd been halfway sure he was hiding out from the rent collector.
"Mr. Garrett?”
"Yeah?”
"I'm scared. I made a promise. I can't tell you any more till I know who I have to be afraid of. Take this back. I want you. But if you can't do the job I'll take what I can get.”
She was scared. If she'd been five feet tall and baby-faced, my protective instincts would have been inflamed. But she was damned near tall enough to look me in the eye and had no knack for playing helpless. You looked at her and you wanted to get into mischief with her, but you didn't have much inclination to take care of her. You knew she could take care of herself.
"If it wasn't for last night I'd give in about now, Jill. But somebody tried to whack me. Finding out who and why and talking him out of trying again is going to occupy my time. So Saucerhead is what you get.”
"If I must, I must.”
"You must." I put her retainer back under the Dead Man. "Now that we're done yelling at each other and we're all friends again, why don't you come by for dinner? Dean's culinary skills don't get much exercise.”
She opened her mouth to turn me down, but inclination ran head-on into her instinct for self-preservation.
She didn't have to be nice to me. That wasn't a condition here. But I'm not so nice a guy I wouldn't let her find that out for herself. "It would have to be late," she said. "I do have to work.”
"Pick your time. Tell Dean. Give him an idea what you'd like. It'll be better than anything you've had for awhile.”
She smiled. "All right." I think that was the first genuine smile she'd shown me. She marched off to the kitchen.
I paused, leaned against the door frame, and sneered at the Dead Man. I had my ulterior motives for wining and dining Jill Craight—beyond those I'd been born with. She still might stir old Chuckles up. I'm also a great believer in synchronicity.
It was a lead-pipe cinch that, because I'd made a date, Tinnie would suffer a miraculous remission from the sulks. Somebody from the Tate place would come to let me know before Jill went home.
Jill came back. "Dean is a nice man.”
Was the implication that I was not? "Tricky, too. You got to watch him. Especially if you're not married. A great ambassador for the institution of marriage, Dean is.”
"But he's not married himself.”
A quick vixen, friend Jill. How much had she pried out of him? "Not married and never has been. But that doesn't slow him down. Come on. I'll walk you home.”
"You sure you can spare the time?”
"It's on my way," I lied. I figured I could use a chat with Saucerhead.