Страница 18 из 130
He paused at Ingolf?s look of incomprehension and shrugged, amending the phrase: ?Fiddling while things burned, when we didn?t have any time to waste. They couldn?t get their heads around what had happened. Not fast enough.? ?So Tom Heasleroad and old Abel Heuisink and your dad took over,? Ingolf said.?And of course, Tom and your late father just had to keep ru
Denson laughed.?Pretty much. Though that bastard Heuisink really would turn everything over to the vakis?-which was Iowa slang for evacuee, the ex-townsmen and their descendants who were the Farmers? labor force-?which I admit just between me and you wouldn?t mean everyone starving to death, not anymore, since these days they know something about working the land, but that?s politics.? ?But you?ve put all your money on the Heasleroads, and if they go down, you do too,? Ingolf said.?Why haven?t you just taken the Bossman?s Chair yourself??
Denson shrugged again.?I?m the boogeyman for Tony, like Dad was for his father. The Bad Cop,? he added, chuckling.?Though with Tom Heasleroad and my father it was more like Bad and Worse. A lot of these Sheriffs and County Commissioners and Guard colonels hate me too much to take my orders directly, but the Heasleroad name still has a lot of chops-we didn?t all starve, after all, which everyone likes, and the Farmers and Sheriffs are on top of the heap, which they like plenty. And they like the way the State Police keep order without their having to do the dirty work themselves.? ?And the point of this little history lesson is?? ?That I have to manage the Heasleroads. Which means I have to keep the wrong people away from Tony; his father was a lot more sensible, but what can you do?? ?Not give him everything he wants just because he wants it?? Ingolf suggested.?That?d turn a saint into a monster, and I?ll bet Tony Heasleroad was never a saint.? ?Well, maybe. Tom was a lot better Bossman than he was a father, if you ask me; Dad never spoiled us. Water under the bridge, though.? ?Nice to know I?ve got a good grasp on the situation, you betcha,? Ingolf said.?But why the little confessional? I?m Catholic?- more or less. Mary isn?t, and… well, one of us has to convert in the interests of a happy marriage, so -?but you were Lutheran, I thought.? ?That?s where getting rid of the Cutters comes in. Or you come in to get rid of them; I always believed in giving men a full briefing before I sent them to do something. You?re more likely to get results if your people understand what?s going on. That way they can improvise, not just be robots… be windup toys, I mean.?
Ingolf bit back I?m no man of yours, Denson, and the policeman?s grin replied: For this you are, like it or not.
Aloud Denson went on:?They?re staying here because you are here, and because that Rudi guy is coming back for you. If he is.? ?Ah,? Ingolf said, and smiled wolfishly.?I bleed for you. I won?t say from where. And Rudi will flap his arms and fly like a duck before he abandons friends. Or anyone he promised to rescue.? ?Oh, one of those, is he? That type gets more throats cut than evil bastards like me.? ?I?ll take Rudi?s word for it on who needs fighting,? Ingolf said.
Then he blinked to himself. You know, I really believe that, he thought. Life?s not dull around Rudi Mackenzie, or safe, but you don?t have to worry about him. A man could do a lot worse than be the one who had his back. One way or another he?s going to need good men, and not just on this trip.
He thought of Mary, who was after all the Mackenzie?s half sister, and gri
And I could do a hell of a lot worse than be his brother-in-law. Half brother-in-law. Whatever.
Denson looked at him slit-eyed, evidently distrusting his good cheer. ?You said the Cutters had plans of their own? They do. Evidently they?ve got a real hard-on for all of you; especially the big redhead, but they want you all dead in the worst way, and it?s starting to sink in with them that Tony thinks you?re too much fun to kill and isn?t going to change his mind. Not anytime soon. And then your friend-the big redhead-sent a message, saying he?s gotten the stuff. The wagons.? ?He did?? Ingolf almost-squeaked.
Denson laughed.?Yeah. Surprised me no end too. I thought the wild-men would be ta
He nudged the bundle at his feet. It clinked significantly; Ingolf stiffened. He recognized the metallic shink sound of chain mail, and the rattle of a boiled-leather scabbard against something hard. ?What they forgot,? Denson said,?is that the State Police is a police force, not just the…?
He gri
To himself: You don?t know as much about the Church Universal and Triumphant as you think, Denson. But I?m not here to tell you what the monks at Chenrezi told me. ?That might get rid of the Cutters, though not until they start to bore Tony. It wouldn?t get rid of you guys. Tony really likes that Arminger chick. Got the hots for her, maybe, and he likes the stories she tells. What I?m going to do is let my problems… sort of solve each other. The timing will be close, though. Get moving. You?re going to Dubuque.?
Ingolf nodded slowly.?So, what?s in it for me, Denson?? ?Longevity,? the State Policeman said.?And a better view.?
He toed the bundle over. Ingolf grabbed it, snaked the awkward length through the bars. There was the padded jacket, the short mail shirt that went over it, the weapons belt with his new shete-what they?d called a dao in Chenrezi-and bowie and tomahawk, shield and quiver, bow in the case beside them. He left the kettle helmet looped over the shield and tied down with a rawhide thong. ?Don?t put the ironmongery on right now. Figured you?d want a shower and some strong soap first. And keep the shete wrapped; it might attract attention.?
Ingolf nodded reluctantly. He did stamp his feet into the boots; it was amazing how much better they made him feel… which was the demoralizing point of taking away prisoner?s footwear, of course. ?What about after we get out?? he asked. If we get out, he added to himself.?I presume we?re not all that welcome in Iowa, so how do we leave?? ?Oh, your friend Tancredo took care of that,? Denson said, with a crooked smile.?And wouldn?t he just shit if he knew we knew about that ship he rented? Nice little gaff-rigged river pedal-galley.? ?What if we get caught in Dubuque?? ?Well, that?s where killed while resisting arrest could come back into the picture. So don?t screw up.? ?You?re an evil bastard, Denson,? Ingolf said. And now I know you need me, so I can say so. In fact, you?d fit right in with the Corwin people, some of them.?I think you?ve got a hole where your conscience should be.? ?People say it runs in the family. But we survived the Change without morals when billions died fully equipped with theirs. Plus I?m a rich, powerful evil bastard, and most of the other survivors ended up hoeing beans twelve hours every day, and living on cornbread and fatback with some hick farmer kicking their ass. Now follow me.?
The sound of the key grating in the lock made Ingolf release a breath he hadn?t been conscious of holding; that was when his gut decided that he really was getting out of here-if only into mortal peril. The feel of the blade and the weight of the mail shirt in his hands put his shoulders back, and a swing into his stride. Eyes glittered at them from the cells, reflecting a little of the light of the lantern Denson carried; he cupped a hand around the chimney to blow it out when they reached the steel door and the sections where the gaslights were left on all night.