Welling spun around and was on him, kicking Sholiar’s leg out from under him. Before Sholiar could recover, Minox had his irons out and was putting them on Sholiar’s wrists. “You will stand trial for crimes. If you need them named, they will include and not be limited to assault on officers of law and assault of members of the citizenry. Do you understand what I have told you?”
“Oh, I do,” Sholiar said, leering up at Welling despite having his face in the floor. “You’re more than I bargained for, Inspector Welling. I won’t forget that, and there will be a reckoning.”
Welling got up and hauled Sholiar to his feet. “The only reckoning there will be is the justice you will face.”
Sholiar grinned at Dayne and gave him the tiniest of winks. “We’ll see about that. Eh, old top?”
* * *
Satrine had managed to stem the bleeding, at least on the nurse’s hand, all the while shouting for more nurses or doctors to come. But the device on the nurse’s hand—some sort of small spring-loaded jaw trap—was something Satrine wasn’t able to get off.
“Jerinne! Joshea!” she called at the two on the floor. “Get someone! Hurry!”
Jerinne got to her feet, though she looked a bit shaky. “I’ll—just a—” she said as she stumbled. A truly horrid putrescence came wafting off the girl.
“Stay down,” Satrine told her. “Doctors! Help!” She couldn’t take her hands off the nurse’s wound, and both the doctors in front of her were useless. One of them was still coughing, even though Minox had burned up the thing on his neck. The other was desperately trying to wrap up his own wrist.
A couple other doctors came running over. “Sweet saints, what—” one of them exclaimed.
“Just help them!” Satrine said, passing the nurse to one of them. She drew out her crossbow and went down the hall. “Joshea, if you could—”
“I’ve never . . . it was . . .” was all Joshea said, not getting up off the floor. Satrine didn’t have time to worry about him right now.
But then Minox came back around the corner with Dayne, and the man Dayne had called Sholiar in irons. Minox looked exhausted, his eyes sunken. Like he was putting all his effort into just staying standing.
“You got him,” she said. “Sholiar, I presume?”
“I never said that,” the man said. “That was this tall one.”
“He is Sholiar,” Dayne said. “I would swear to it in any court.”
“I challenge you to find a single official document with that name on it. Certainly not one you can connect to me.” He leaned forward to Rainey. “Please, Inspector, my name is Tandus Hunsen. I am the staff chief for a member of Parliament. This is some dreadful error.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Reach into my pocket and take my papers,” he said.
Satrine almost laughed at that. “You really think that I would fall for that? That I didn’t see what you’ve got in your coat?”
He broke out into a low cackle. “Well, you never know what surprises might be there, that’s true.”
“Enough of this foolery,” Dayne said.
The man suddenly took on a thick Waish accent, leering at Satrine. “Ye even hold a wisefast wit, quia, sure as yer finger.”
That was very strange, and not just for the fact that he addressed her by the rank she held when she was undercover in Waisholm.
“I don’t recommend we attempt to remove his coat,” Welling said.
“No, certainly,” he said. “You do it wrong, it might be bad for both of us.”
“He’s slippery,” Dayne said. “I wouldn’t trust he wasn’t hiding something unless he was naked.”
“Saints, at least ask my father’s permission, squire.”
“And not even then.”
“Really,” the man—Sholiar or Hunsen or whoever—said. “This is a misunderstanding, borne from this Tarian stalking me for a year. He blames me for his own failures, the death of his mentor.”
“You attacked those three people,” Welling said. “And tried to hold me hostage. We are taking you in to the stationhouse.”
“Of course, but I demand counsel,” he said. “I want the Justice Advocate and my own lawyers as soon as we arrive.”
“That’s your right,” Satrine said. “But I don’t think it will help you.”
“Well, I’ll explain everything when I have counsel and witness. You’re working with this brute, so I don’t trust you to treat me fairly.”
“Then let’s go,” Satrine said. She turned to the doctors treating the three injured people. “Please come to us at the GIU in Inemar if you need to press further charges or questions.” She laid her calling card down where they could get it when they weren’t as busy. “I apologize for the disruption.”
Jerinne had finally righted herself, though she still looked very out of sorts. She had helped Joshea up, and he was walking with her. While Dayne led Sholiar or whoever he was out the door, Satrine hung back with Welling for a moment.
“You all right?” she asked, taking some dried lamb from her pouch. Welling took it eagerly.
“Too much, too fast. I got—cocksure, I think, listening to Mister Olivant. I assumed I had immense power at my fingertips, literally, and— I was very careless in using too much. Turning metal into dust is more involved than I had assumed.”
“We’ll stop—”
“No,” he said. “Let’s get this man, this Sholiar, under proper custody. Joshea, are you well?”
“I’ve never seen anything like him,” Joshea said, still staring at the prisoner as Dayne hauled him away. “He moved like a . . . like he was touched with grace.”
“Hardly the word I’d use,” Jerinne grumbled.
“Well, yes, horrible,” Joshea said quickly. “But a horror that inspires nothing short of awe.”
Satrine didn’t have time to worry about Joshea’s bizarre response to being assaulted. Welling needed to be brought back to the station quickly, and they had an arrest. A solid one. And if Dayne was correct, an arrest that would also solve the Gearbox deaths.
In the pit of her stomach, though, she had her doubts about Dayne.
Chapter 19
MINOX COULDN’T LET anyone see how he felt—weak as a newborn, ready to fall down at any moment. The magic he had invoked in the hospital, turning Sholiar’s machines to ash, had put too much strain on his body. Whatever Mister Olivant thought about his supposed power, it was a gross exaggeration.
And he had let Olivant’s words make him overconfident. Even foolhardy.
Inspector Rainey clearly realized his condition, despite his attempt to dissemble. Dayne and his young associate probably did not, as they were not as familiar with him as Inspector Rainey. And Joshea—Joshea normally would notice, but he seemed slightly out of sorts. The encounter with Sholiar had spooked him, somehow.
As they delivered Sholiar to the Inemar Stationhouse, Minox ate all the dried beef he kept in his coat pocket for emergencies. This clearly was one, and while he no longer felt as hungry, he still had a bone-deep exhaustion that made every step a trial.
But that would not deter him. He had Sholiar, clearly the Gearbox Killer and the architect of the Parliament Atrocity. He had him in irons, and would take him to be questioned, and book an arrest that would set a trial in motion.
His duty, fully executed, and it would keep at least one thing from going to the unresolved.
Right now, that would give him a bit of peace.
As they entered the stationhouse, the desk clerk at the front just raised his eyebrow. “You leading a parade, specs?”
“We’re bringing in an arrest,” Minox said, pushing Sholiar forward. “And they all will make witness statements.”
“What’s he guilty of?” the clerk asked, his tone even more disrespectful than the usual trouble the floor staff would give him and Rainey.
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“Besides attacking us and people in the hospital?” Rainey shot back. “Well, he’s probably guilty of the Gearbox Murders.”
“I really expected the press to do better with that,” Sholiar said. “It’s a terrible name.”
“What?” the clerk asked. He turned to a nearby page. “Get the captain!” The page scurried off.
“Process him and set him for questioning,” Minox said. “But be aware, he’s got tricks in that coat of his.”
“Why else would I be wearing it in this heat, hmm?”
“Hush,” Rainey said.
“We can’t take him in without a weapons search,” the clerk said.
“And I don’t recommend you forgo that procedure,” Minox said. “In fact, be beyond thorough in your examination.”
“Gentlemen, I think I should be courted a little first,” Sholiar interjected.
“Can we muzzle him?” Dayne asked.
“What’s with the rutting knights, specs?” the clerk asked.
“Two members of the Tarian Order, who were helpful and instrumental in his capture.”
“Minox?” Captain Cinellan had come downstairs. “What’s all this?”
“We’ve apprehended this person, who we believe is responsible for the Gearbox Murders.”
“Based on?” Cinellan asked.
“He was identified by Mister Heldrin here—”
“And I will gladly make a statement,” Dayne added.
“And he had devices on his person that match the gearbox machines in style and form.”
“That’s good,” Sholiar said. “Oh, that is a good one. I thought he had nothing but Dayne, but that is good.”
“I can’t—” the captain started.
“Regardless of the charge holding, Captain,” Rainey interjected. “He attacked us, three staff members at Riverheart Hospital Ward, Miss Fendall, and Mister Brondar. Those assaults are not to be ignored.”
“But he’s a suspect for the Gearbox?”
“Yes, of course,” Minox said.
Captain Cinellan sighed. “Then I have to send word to the King’s Marshals. It’s their case now.” He whistled for a page to come over as he grabbed a notepad.
“Sir, we should—”
“I have to, Minox,” he said. “You can hold him in questioning and do what you can before the marshals get here, but it’s on them. If they don’t like him as a Gearbox suspect, then you can charge him for the other assaults.”
Miss Morad and Mister Olivant came purposefully down from the stairway to the inspectors’ floor. “Is he back?” Miss Morad asked. “We need to—”
“I am in the middle of things, Miss Morad,” Minox snapped. “Whatever you have will have to wait while I attend to my duties.” He grabbed Sholiar’s irons and pulled him toward the back stairwell. “I’m going to question him until the marshals arrive. Please send someone to transcribe.”
Rainey was at his arm as they went down. “I don’t know how wise that was,” she said.
“I’m not interested in wisdom,” he said. “I’m interested in resolution.”
Minox noted that Dayne had followed them down to the questioning rooms. Inspector Rainey took point on trying to dissuade the Tarian. “You can’t come in here, Heldrin,” she said. “We’ve got to follow some procedure here.”
“You didn’t search or disarm him,” Dayne said.
Minox nodded, as Rainey took Sholiar in. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take right now. And he’s not booked as an arrest right now. The marshals can handle disarming him and his coat of gearwork monstrosity.”
“Even still—”
“We have little time to waste before the marshals sweep him away. Trust me, I will not drop my guard around him. And you can observe from there.” Minox pointed to the observation room. “You can jump in if action is necessary.”
“All right,” Dayne said, clapping Minox on the shoulder with his giant hand. “Caution.”
Minox went in, to see that Rainey had secured Sholiar to the chair, and was sitting on the other side of the table.
“I notice that you have not brought in either private counsel or Justice Advocate for me,” he said. “I imagine that’s a violation.”
“Do you want either of those brought to you?” Minox asked.
“Not particularly. After all, what do you actually have on me, Inspectors?” Sholiar asked. “I mean, truly, what?”
“You attacked a nurse and two doctors.”
“Did I?” Sholiar asked. “Or did they put hands on me, and accidentally injure themselves on my equipment?”
“You were identified by Mister Heldrin,” Rainey said.
“Oh, yes, his word,” Sholiar said. “The word of a semi-disgraced Tarian who, from what I understand, crippled a young boy and then fled Lacanja. So he’s made me the monster of his nightmares. I’m just the victim of his delusions.”
“You tried to hold me hostage,” Minox said.
“Did I?” Sholiar asked again. He shrugged. “Perhaps it seemed that way, but I did have a large, delusional man who insists that I’m some sort of monster bearing down on me. My actions were merely in self-defense.”
“And the Parliament?” Rainey asked. She had a look on her face that said she wasn’t remotely interested in his games of denial. “How did you do that?”
“How did I?” Sholiar asked. “I can’t answer that. Now, were you to ask how might I pull off such a feat, even then I’d be at a loss.”
Rainey presented one of the devices from the hospital, which she had taken out of her pocket. “This is pretty intricate work. We saw similar things at the Parliament. It wouldn’t take much for a person to decide the connection between the two was reasonable enough to presume you were the architect of all these machines.”
Sholiar’s eyes narrowed, a smile creeping over his face. “Oh, she’s clever. But no. I mean, I’m sure a corrupt and compromised justice system could convict me, and that will be mine to bear. Especially once the marshals come for me. I’m not even sure what you’re here to ask me, Inspectors.”
“So you deny that that’s your work?” Rainey asked. “Someone else was able to build that monstrosity of torture?”
There was a glint in his eye. “You’re trying to hit my pride, Inspector. I respect that. What if I told you, quia mosha, that what you found in the Parliament was my design, my equipment, but I was not involved with its implementation?”
“I’d say that was lacking credibility,” Minox said.
“Come now,” he said. “That isn’t really my style. Were I even this monster you think me to be.”
“You aren’t?”
“Some might say artist.”
Rainey made a disgusted noise.
“And like any artist, I’m often in need of a patron. You have to audition to show them you can compose a symphony of death, a lasting work of profane and disturbing beauty.”
“Who did you ‘audition’ for?” Rainey was taking point in these questions, which Minox was grateful for. He wanted to just observe the man, see through this performance. But he was also exhausted, which Rainey surely noticed. She was keeping Sholiar’s attention on her so he wouldn’t see how weak Minox actually was.
“It hardly matters, especially speaking in the abstract. Which I certainly am. The point is, some people want a masterpiece, and some people think the master’s tools are all they need. And so you get no profound poem on the fragility of life. Instead it’s a belch of random slaughter. Imagine, quia mosha, that you’re busy playing the first notes of the overture, and some cretins plagiarize your libretto.”
“You’re really saying—”
“I’m saying that were I the man your Tarian friend thinks I am, then that facade of an atrocity at the Parliament would be beneath me. I almost had to just lie down at your feet and get ca
ught to get some justice.”
“Justice?” Minox found himself shouting the word.
“We all have our methods of justice, Inspector Welling. Each is very personal. And my work is deeply personal to me. That’s why I put those three in the boiler room. Rushed on my part. So I had hoped to make an example of Mister Hunsen, but he. . . .”
“So you’re no longer claiming to be Hunsen?” It was only through pure willpower that Minox did not throttle this man. To be so . . . glib about the torture and death he had caused, it was infuriating. Minox could feel that anger bubbling up in his gut and slowly feeding into his hand. He needed to get control over it.
Sholiar laughed drolly. “Damnation, I had forgotten that bit. Too much on my mind, that’s for certain. I had such games planned for the two of you, and instead . . . it’s all just crassness now. That’s what rushing gets you: sloppiness instead of art.”
Someone pounded on the door. “King’s Marshals are here!”
“Oh, our time is at an end,” Sholiar said. “The marshals will, if they have any sense, throw me in a hole and then throw away the hole.”
“Seems about right,” Rainey said. If she was feeling the same rage Minox was, she was keeping it hidden. Though four months had taught Minox that she was adept at masking her feelings.
“But given what you’ve discovered, what you know, what’s the one question you should be asking yourself. Come on, Inspectors? Do I have to spell it out for you?”
“Did you kill Tenning?” Rainey asked. “Or Cole or Hunsen?”
“You know I didn’t, there was no showmanship there,” he said. The door started to open. “Out of time.”
“Who did kill him, then?” she asked, moving closer. “And where are the other two?”
Chief Quoyell came in with Cinellan. “All right,” Quoyell said. “This is done.”
Sholiar winked at Minox and Rainey. “I guess this is the end. But that was the right question.”
* * *
“Come on out,” Quoyell said, glaring at Satrine. “We’ll be taking him.” He looked like he wanted to drag her and Welling out of the questioning room by their hair.
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