Read Book 02 - Bitter Gold Hearts for Free Online Page B

for doing nothing. But I wasn’t. There
was a wrongness about the thing, the ring of bad crystal. Look at
it as I might, though, I couldn’t root out the source of the
bad odor.
    There wasn’t much I could do about it. I didn’t have
a client. Nobody goes digging around on the Hill just to satisfy a
personal curiosity. There was too much potential for pain and none
at all for profit.
    In the third bar, nearer home, they let me sit and brood.
I’d done well by them in the past and would again. When the
man sat down opposite me, I presumed they were trying to make the
best use of table space. I didn’t look at him till he
growled, “Your name Garrett?”
    I looked. He was a big one, broad, thirtyish, with the air of a
tough and clothes you don’t find anywhere but on the Hill.
But no livery. A hired hand who did his work in the shadows.
Nothing gave away who owned him. “Who wants to
know?”
    “I do.”
    “I got a feeling you and me aren’t going to get
along. I don’t recall inviting you to sit.”
    “I don’t need an invite from a crumb like
you.”
    He was off the Hill for sure. Their heads swell when they get
connected up there. “I know we’re not going to be
pals.”
    “Break my heart, smart boy.”
    “I was thinking more along the line of an arm or leg. What
do you want, Bruno?”
    Bruno is a derisive generic for a dumb pug. A quick glance
around told me he had a couple of buddies along but they were too
far away to give him a hand quickly. They were at the bar trying to
blend in.
    “Word is going around that you been hanging around Raver
Styx’s place. You got a rep for mixing in where you’re
not wanted. We want to know what you’re up to.”
    “Who is we?” He was so rude he didn’t answer,
so I suggested, “Why don’t you ask the
Stormwarden?”
    “I’m asking you, Garrett.”
    “You’re wasting your time. Go away, Bruno.
You’re interfering with my drinking.”
    He jabbed a hand out and got hold of my left wrist, started to
squeeze. He had a good grip but my right hand fell on his. I buried
my thumb in the flesh just behind the root joints of his middle and
forefingers. I pressed hard. His eyes got big and his face turned
white. I smiled a friendly smile.
    “All right, Bruno. You were just going to tell me who you
work for and why you’re down here trying to convince people
that you’re somebody scary.”
    “You go to hell, you cheap—unh!”
    “You’ve got to learn to think before you speak. With
a mouth like yours it’s a miracle you’ve lived this
long.”
    “Garrett, you’re going to be sorry you were
ever—unh!”
    “They say pain is the fastest educator. In your case it
looks like even that won’t help. Yes?”
    Someone had come to the table, approach unnoticed because I was
watching Bruno’s pals slowly develop the suspicion that all
was not well with their buddy.
    “Mr. Garrett?”
    The daPenas were a polite bunch. “Junior. Have a seat.
Bruno was just leaving.” I let go his hand. He flexed it as
he rose, trying to leave me with his best deadly look. He wanted to
pop me one, just to remember him by, but when he went to cock it, I
let a foot fly under the table and got him in the shin. His eyes
got big again, he made one little whimper of a sound, and decided
to go away while he was still fit to limp.
    “I see Domina Dount pulled it off and got you back in one
piece.”
    “Yes.”
    “Congratulations on your good fortune. So how come
you’re down here slumming?”
    The son was the image of the father without the marks of age and
dissipation. How had the question of paternity risen? Maybe when he
was a baby he hadn’t looked so much like his immediate male
ancestor. Those notions hang on forever.
    “I wanted to thank you personally.”
    “Thank me? For what? I didn’t do a damned
thing.” The kid had one of those apologetic, whiny voices
that made you suspect he wanted to be excused for being alive.
    “But you did. At least you appeared to.