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to do with them. They can't get anybody who knows anything to come out here. I
suspect because they think a librarian should work out of conviction instead
of for a salary."
"They" probably meant Marengo North English, well-known skinflint.
Tinnie said, "Sounds like a job for Garrett. He can read and everything."
"I'm no good at organizing." Which was why I hired Dean, way back when. The
old boy started out part-time. Next thing I knew he'd moved in.
"You hungry?" Miss Montezuma asked.
"Famished," Tinnie chirped. I didn't doubt it. The woman could eat a whole
roast pig and never gain an ounce.
I smiled over her shoulder, nodded. I didn't want Miss Montezuma thinking my
friend did all my talking for me.
Tama was amused. "I'll take you past the library on our way to the kitchen.
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You can poke around there after we eat."
"Marengo won't mind?"
"Marengo isn't here."
"Doesn't seem to be anybody here." There was no sign of staff although
Marengo's shanty dwarfed the Weider hovel. "Though how you can tell in all
this gloom . . . " Hardly a candle was evident.
"There aren't any servants anymore," Miss Montezuma replied. "And we're
frugal with all consumables. If we need light to work, we'd better get the job
done in the daytime. Though I suppose I could find a lamp for you."
They just fall at my feet, willing to do anything.
"There aren't any windows in the old dinner hall."
The Goddamn Parrot snickered.
"You better do something about that sneeze, bird." I asked Miss Montezuma,
"What's going on? They say Marengo is tight, but . . . "
"The Cause is a vampire. Its hunger never goes away. He has to cut back
somewhere."
Did North English start out less rich than everybody thought? The impedimenta
of great wealth seemed plentiful enough, if old and mostly threadbare. "At
least he hasn't had to sell the candlesticks to make ends meet."
"Don't be cynical. Marengo believes he has a divine mission."
I doubted that, being a cynic. "What about Miss Tama Montezuma?"
"It doesn't matter what Miss Montezuma thinks. She's just Marengo's fancy
woman."
"If I buy that, will you try to sell me maps to hoards of fairy gold?
Bargain-priced?"
"I'm sure Miss Tate is far too alert and levelheaded to let me take advantage
of you."
I didn't look at Miss Tate. I had a feeling Miss Tate would be hard at work
restraining her redhead's temper. My smirk might overtilt the load.
"I'm curious," Tinnie said, reasonably enough. "If you have no servants, how
do you eat?"
"I cook better than I do what I'm famous for."
Whew!
Miss Montezuma cooked very well indeed. With Tinnie and I following her
instructions we collaborated in constructing a meal featuring a wild rabbit
Tama claimed to have caught herself. "A woman of many talents," Tinnie
observed.
"Yeah." I made a mental note to check Miss Montezuma's background. Street
legend didn't dwell on her antecedents, which was unusual. Everybody loves a
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scandal.
74
During supper I was ordered to call Miss Montezuma Tama and learned that
North English's place really was deserted.
The man from the gate was named Stucker. He avoided conversation with a
passion. Tollie was a Montezuma-stricken fourteen-year-old who managed the
livestock. There was a silent old man who had one eye and a hook for a right
hand. Venable constituted security at The Pipes. Venable thought thunder
lizards were the most wonderful things the gods ever created. He couldn't
understand why they were unpopular. He could go on about them forever. He kept
a pack of his own as pets and security associates. They would have the run of
the estate tonight. Venable claimed his babies only ate strangers.
I suspected that, if you got yourself eaten, Venable's position would be that
you couldn't possibly have been friendly.
An advantage of thunder lizards as guards is their stupidity. You can't
bullshit them. But stupid is exploitable, too. They'll forget everything and
go for the snack if you toss them something like, say, a squawking parrot with
his wings clipped.
Tama discouraged table talk, though Venable wanted to bring me up-to-date on
things to do with thunder lizard fandom. Tollie couldn't stand to look at
Tinnie or do much more than croak if he tried to talk to Tama.
After supper we headed for the library. I insisted. Marengo might say no if
we waited. His racist treasures might be damaged by eyetracks.
Long ago I learned that nobody wants to share information that looks like a
resource.
The room set aside for the library was huge and cluttered. Most of the stuff
there had to predate any notion of a specialized library. Some, I'd bet,
predated any notion of Marengo North English.
Tama said, "Marengo wants to set up his research center here. But he's never
found time to get started."
I got the impression she'd heard talk till she didn't listen anymore. "It's
not like he's short on manpower. He could drag in a bunch of true believers
and set up in a day."
"He's too paranoid."
"Yeah?" I set my lamp on a dusty side table, assayed the job ahead. Books
were jumbled into small wooden crates in no obvious pattern. Scrolls were tied
in bundles of four or five. I selected a bundle. "How do you feel about what
he's trying to do?"
"My thoughts aren't consulted." She wasn't going to offer an opinion.
Did she know anyone well enough to take that risk?
Tinnie prowled the room slowly. She used her lamp to illuminate books where
they lay, maybe hoping to luck onto something. Luck did seem as sensible a
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strategy as any. She harrumphed. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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