Bitter Gold Hearts

"He's in debt again, Saucer head. The bug races again. But I don't want to try Ogre Town alone, so let him play his game. I'm not going to sit around here waiting for him, though. If I have to kill a couple hours, I'll do it getting something useful done."

Saucer head just looked at me, a big, tired guy who had been pushing himself too hard. I knew that if we ended up going after Gorgeous—as I would do, one way or another—Saucer head would go along if he had to drag himself. "You might as well get some sleep. See you in a couple."

I got scowls downstairs but nobody stopped me.

______ XXXII ______

I went to Playmate's and pounded around until he got out of bed. He never stopped grumbling and cussing, but he got out the wagon and hitched up a team. He even managed the obligatory refusals when I tried to pay him, though he did end up accepting the money. As he always does. He needs it, no matter how much he pretends. The Larkin crematorium was one mile away. I pushed, though there was no real need. Junior's body had been delivered late, if I'd heard Morley right, so it wouldn't have been sent to the oven yet. That wasn't permitted at night. Religious and secular law both forbid cremation during the hours of darkness. A soul freed during that time would be condemned to walk the night forever. There are only three crematoriums in TunFaire. I was sure Junior was at the Larkin place because it was conve­nient for anyone coming to my home from the Stormwarden's. And the night porter wasn't an honest man. The world is cancerous with people possessed; some have to vent their sicknesses on the dead and others have to pander to them. I pulled the wagon into an alley near the crematorium and left the team bound in a spell woven of the direst threats I could conjure. At least I got their attention.

I did it the way I'd heard it was done, going to the side entrance, tapping a code, and waiting while I was exam­ined through some hidden peephole.

The door opened. I had to grit my teeth to keep from laughing or groaning. The night porter was a character straight out of graveyard spook stories, a hunchback ratman so ugly I suspected his beauty would under shine that of the creature Gorgeous. Hopefully before the night was done I'd have the opportunity to compare. If there was a password I didn't know it and he didn't care. I showed him a gold piece and he showed me the room where the bodies were laid out. Like the old joke, people had been dying to get in. Seven of the ten slabs were occupied by the anxiously waiting dead. Ratman was a born salesman. He lifted a sheet. "This here's the best we got. And you're the only customer tonight." He snickered.

The girl was about fourteen. There was no obvious cause of death.

"She might even be a virgin."

It was one of those times when you want to break bones, but for business reasons you put your feelings on ice and smile. I stepped past him and lifted a sheet at the head of a corpse that looked the right size. Not my man.

Second time was the charm.

"This one. How much to take him with me?"

I've never been looked at like that before and hope never to be again. I saw he was going to argue, so I laid a ten-mark gold piece on an empty slab. I doubt he'd ever seen one before.

Greed touched those hideous features. But caution was just a step behind. "That one came off the Hill, mister. You don't want to mess with it."

"You're right. I don't want to mess with it. I want to buy it."

"But... why?"

"For a keepsake. I'm going to have the head shrunk and wear it for an earring."

"Mister, I told you, that one's off the Hill. People are going to come for the ashes."

"Give them ashes. How many of these are city pro­jects?" TunFaire has a pork-barrel ordinance requiring unclaimed, found, and paupers' corpses to be distributed in rotation among the dozen mortuary businesses, paid for out of the public purse. It's a racket that accounts for the majority of each business's income. Most families just bury their dead in the nearest churchyard.

"Four. But I'd have to bring the boss in—"

"How much?" He wouldn't be doing his business with­out the silent approval of his employer. "Without being greedy. I could just take it and leave you in its place." It was a definite temptation.

The ratman gulped. "Twenty marks."

"There's ten. Ten more when I have it loaded. I'll be back in a minute." He might have taken his chances and locked me out, but that was unlikely while ten more marks were afloat. He gobbled some but I ignored him. Ten minutes later I had what was left of Junior daPena installed in the wagon. I faced the hunchback, gold in hand. "The same people will bring another one today. Unless they insist on watching the job, I want that one, too. It'll be female. The gods help you if it's touched. Do you understand?"

He gulped.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes sir. Yes sir." Cautiously, he reached for the gold.

I avoided his touch when I let him have it.