‘Something about Zolin?’
‘Maybe. It was a report of a missing object, made by a Valeria Leonova. A piece of jewellery, not of any very great worth, but with sentimental value—’
‘The ring,’ Konrad said promptly. ‘The gold one in Zolin’s pocket. It was gold?’
Alexander nodded. ‘Plain gold, but with an indentation where a jewel used to be. The thing belonged to an ancestor, apparently, and the gem was long since gone. Leonova appears to have kept it as it is, perhaps as some kind of talisman or luck charm — who knows, with ladies. At any rate, she claims that she could never have been so careless as to lose it, and attests that it must have been stolen.’
‘Zolin’s a thief.’ Konrad thought fast, applying that fact to everything they knew about the man. It did not resolve anything, yet… but it cast an interesting light upon the case.
‘Possibly,’ cautioned Alexander. ‘I’ve yet to absolutely verify the ring as Leonova’s property, though it matches her description exactly. And Zolin may not have stolen it, if it is hers. She might have dropped it, for all her certainty otherwise, and he picked it up.’
‘Were they acquainted?’
‘I can’t find out that they were, and she was not among the guests at Lady Lysak’s party.’
‘Bogdan Zolin, formerly of some other name,’ Konrad mused. ‘A poor man, performing some form of manual labour for his bread — the docks, perhaps, there is always such work to be had there. A sometime pickpocket, to make ends meet. A habit he retained?’
‘Plausible.’
‘Perhaps that is how he came by the means to embark upon such a masquerade.’
‘Yes, and perhaps it’s also why. He seems to have gone for a small target this time, with this ring — if he did steal it — but what if he was really after much bigger prizes? What easier way to steal a fortune than to get yourself invited into all the wealthiest homes in the city?’
‘He couldn’t get away with it for long,’ Konrad cautioned. ‘If something valuable went missing every time he attended a party, someone would soon start to notice.’
‘Well, he seems to have chosen a mix of targets. Valeria Leonova is no wealthy aristocrat. Tradesman’s daughter. Prosperous enough, but not rich.’
‘One wonders if anything very valuable went missing from any of those aristocratic houses in recent months.’
‘One wonders that, indeed. I’ve put some men on it.’
‘In particular, Lady Lysak’s house?’ Konrad guessed. ‘That would be reason enough for a quarrel.’
‘He stole something from her, and she caught him at it? Perhaps. But wouldn’t that be productive of something more than just a verbal altercation? Surely she’d have had him thrown out, or arrested.’
‘We really need to talk to her,’ Konrad said, frustrated anew.
‘We are also trying to discover whether there was any pattern to the gatherings Zolin attended. You’re quite right, he couldn’t possibly keep up his pretence forever, not if he was stealing from his hosts. Or planning to.’
‘Planning to,’ echoed Konrad. ‘Yes. He may have had specific thefts in mind — lucrative ones — after which he would disappear again.’
Alexander downed the last morsel upon his plate, and set aside his cutlery. ‘Speculation, of course, to a degree. It’s not yet certain that he palmed that ring of Leonova’s.’
‘It fits, though.’ Konrad applied himself to the demolition of his own meal, his thoughts busy. ‘Is Tasha still haunting Surnin Place?’
‘Ought to be.’
‘I’m going to need her. If Zolin had a past as a thief, she might be able to trace his former life through her street acquaintances.’
‘All right. I can assign someone else to watch Lysak’s house.’
‘Holding council without me?’ said Nanda, striding into the room.
‘Just because we are awake bright and early, doesn’t mean you have to be.’ Konrad smiled up at her. She was looking pale, again, and drawn, but that might just be due to their shared nocturnal ramblings.
‘No reasonable person characterises ten o’clock in the morning as “bright and early”, Konrad.’
‘Most of my aristocratic peers won’t surface for at least another two hours.’
‘You’ll recall that I spoke of reasonable people. Good morning, Alexander. Did you come bearing news?’
Konrad sat quietly as Nanda partook of her own repast, and listened to Alexander’s recounting of his and Konrad’s new theory. She interpolated few remarks, contenting herself with silent thought.
When the inspector had finished, she sat frowning for some moments.
‘Nan?’ said Konrad. ‘You’ve a thought?’
‘I seem to recall…’ She sipped coffee, ruminating. ‘There was something about a theft, perhaps two months ago. It was mentioned in one of those gossipy articles we went through, Konrad. A necklace, family heirloom, oceans of diamonds — you know the sort of thing. Taken from somebody-or-other’s grand town house, I forget which family. Her ladyship-of-something chose to downplay the incident, and implied that some hapless servant had been to blame. But I’m sure I also read that there’d been a ball held around the time the necklace went missing. I wonder if Zolin was among the guests?’
‘Zolin appears always to have been among the guests,’ Konrad said. ‘You could be right to draw a connection, Nan. Though, if he had already stolen something so valuable, and got away with it, what was he doing thieving trinkets from the likes of Valeria Leonova?’
‘Habit, maybe?’ said Nan. ‘Once a pickpocket…’
‘You mean he couldn’t help himself? That could well be true. Some thieves are that way.’
‘Or debt,’ said the inspector succinctly.
Konrad raised an enquiring brow.
‘Just because he staged a successful theft, that doesn’t mean he got to keep the profit.’
Alexander’s words sparked off a vague idea in Konrad’s mind, and he rose to his feet. ‘I need Tasha.’
‘What for?’ said Nanda.
‘We urgently need to unmask Zolin, and I think she may be able to help.’
Nanda accompanied Konrad to Surnin Place. They made the journey on foot, once again, for heavy snowfall made the use of his carriage problematic. Or so Konrad told himself. If he was also finding companionable walks with Nanda rather pleasant, nobody need suspect him of it.
The house loomed, imposing and solemn, its brick façade dark against the snow-pale sky. Konrad received the fanciful impression that it mourned or something; its windows seemed vacant and staring, and it bore a hushed air of desertion.
‘Nonsense,’ he scolded himself, and turned away his eyes.
‘No, I see it too,’ said Nanda. ‘It seems… lachrymose.’
‘Something like that.’
‘Perhaps it is not good for either of us to be wandering the morgue in the small hours. One receives ideas.’
‘I propose to spend the next such period of time asleep in bed.’ Konrad, failing to spot Tasha anywhere, walked around the side of the house to the rear. Nobody and nothing stirred. ‘You don’t—’
‘Here,’ said Nanda.
Konrad joined her. She’d wandered over to a set of stone steps leading down to a low door leading into the property’s cellar kitchens. Tucked into a nook near the door, hidden from view from the street, was a small black-clad corpse. Her ever-present dark cap shaded her eyes, but he did not need to see their vacant stare to know that no one was home. ‘Tash?’ he called.
No answer came.
Serpents, find Tasha please. Doubtless the girl was snooping in spirit-form; Konrad permitted himself the faint hope that she had caught some trace of Lady Lysak.
Yes, Master. A mere few minutes later, Ootapi added, She is inside.
Alone?
No. There are workers here.
Servants. Have I reason to take an interest in them?
I think not, Master. They are sweeping things, and stirring pots.
And what is Tasha doing?
She is coming down.
The corpse at Konrad’s feet stirred, and took a breath. The small face lifted, and Tasha adjusted the brim of her hat. ‘Caught me napping,’ she said.
‘In a manner of speaking. Did you find something of interest up there?’
‘No.’ Tasha clambered stiffly to her feet, wincing. ‘Bloody cold does get into your bones when you’re dead.’
‘Language, please. We’re in the presence of a lady.’
‘So we are.’ Tasha made Nanda a brief salute. ‘I was just looking in case I’d missed anything,’ she explained.
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. Anything. Something.’
‘Bored?’ Konrad guessed.
‘I’ve been stationed here for days, and nothing’s stirred but a bunch of servants. What do you think?’
‘You will be delighted to learn that we came here with a new assignment for you.’
‘The inspector won’t let me abandon my post.’
‘He will. He’s sending someone else.’
Tasha brightened. ‘Right then, what’s on the cards?’
Konrad outlined their latest ideas as to Zolin’s possible past. ‘There are two parts to this task,’ he said. ‘One, I’d like you to make some enquiries down at the docks. If Zolin’s calluses hadn’t faded after a year of living soft, he must have worked hard in his time, and docks work makes sense. See if you can find word of anyone answering his description who suddenly stopped showing up for work about a year ago.’
‘Drinking houses,’ said Tasha promptly. ‘I know a couple down that way, popular with dock workers. If Zolin was one of them, he’d have been a regular. They all are.’
‘Good thinking. The other thing might be trickier.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that.’
‘All right. If Zolin was a thief, he may have been part of a gang.’
‘Likely,’ said Tasha with a nod. ‘Few street thieves manage to work alone for long.’
‘That’s what I thought. What are your connections like with the Ekamet underworld?’
‘Sufficient.’ Tasha grinned. ‘There are two main gangs with ties to the dockyard. Some of them like to intercept valuable shipments when they come in, and pilfer stuff off the top. If they’re clever, they can pinch a lot without being detected — smallish amounts from here and from there, if you follow me. Too little to attract much notice. He could well have been involved with one of them.’
Thinking of Valeria Leonova’s ring, Konrad nodded. The style seemed to fit Zolin’s possible pattern. He might well have imagined that a ring of such modest value might simply be written off as lost. ‘See what you can dig up,’ he said. ‘Let us know as soon as possible.’
Tasha dashed up the steps and vanished into the swirling snow.
‘Useful girl to have around,’ Nanda commented.
‘Extremely.’
‘And what do we do now?’
Konrad thought. ‘Well, since we now have Tasha and Alexander on Zolin’s trail, that leaves us Lady Lysak. I believe I am tired of waiting for her to return home.’
‘You have some idea of where to find her?’
‘No. Do you?’
‘Not as such, but—’
Master, hissed Eetapi. Someone approaches. It is a person.
It is a public street, Eetapi. What makes you think this person is significant?
Because he is looking at the house, as though he wants to know if there is anyone at home.
Right. Back or front?
He is on the handsome side of the street.
The front, then. Konrad lightly touched Nanda’s arm. ‘We may have a lead,’ he murmured, and set off back around the side of the house.
He paused on the point of entering the street, searching for some sign of Eetapi’s “person”. But the snow had thickened as he had stood talking with Tasha, and a flurry of white obscured everything more than a few feet away.
Where is this person? Konrad asked.
No answer came, but a moment later a ghost-light lit up some short way ahead of him, floating high. Eetapi. Follow, Master.
Konrad followed, Nanda close beside him. Eetapi’s eerie, flickering glow was white like the snow, probably not discernible to anyone but him. Nonetheless, he moved with caution, unwilling to scare away whoever advanced upon the house.
He reached the carriage-way some few feet beyond the house’s front steps, listening for approaching vehicles. Nothing. But there— a faint footfall, to his left.
He veered that way — and, abruptly, a dark figure loomed out of the whirl of white. Tall; taller than Konrad, and broad at the shoulder. So bundled was he in great-coat and hat, Konrad could determine nothing else about him. His posture, though, declared him surprised and wary. He stopped.
Konrad stopped.
The stranger tipped his hat to Konrad, and hesitated, as though he might speak.
But he thought better of it, and began to move away — towards Lady Lysak’s house.
‘Excuse me,’ Konrad said softly. ‘Are you calling upon Lady Lysak?’
The man hesitated before he answered, so long that Konrad wondered if he would speak at all. At length he said, ‘I had— not— why would you ask that of me?’
‘She is not home,’ said Konrad.
The man glanced once towards the house. Konrad detected a flicker of dismay, but not of surprise. Had he known of her disappearance, but perhaps hoped to find her returned?
‘Are you much acquainted with her ladyship?’ said Konrad.
That, for some reason, put the stranger very much on his guard. He looked at Konrad in silence, and then backed away. ‘I will call upon her when she returns,’ he said hurriedly, and walked off, at some speed.
‘Interesting,’ said Nanda, already in pursuit.
Konrad lengthened his stride. Two, three impossibly long steps, and he caught up with the stranger. A fourth put him in front, cutting off the visitor’s retreat. He stood, permitting just a shade of his Malykant’s aura to show. Not enough to frighten; just enough to encourage the mystery visitor to co-operate. ‘Do you know where Lady Lysak is?’ he said.
‘Would I be looking for her here, if I did?’ said the stranger, backing away — only to collide with Nanda, who stood directly behind him.
‘It is inclement weather for visiting,’ she observed. ‘What was so important that it couldn’t wait?’
‘Who are you?’ demanded the stranger. ‘If you mean her ladyship harm—’
‘Not the smallest,’ said Nanda briskly. ‘But her absence is proving inconvenient.’
‘We just need to talk to her,’ said Konrad.
‘If you imagine she killed that man—’
‘We imagine no such thing.’
The man seemed to settle, for some of the tension went out of him. He gave a sigh. ‘I, too, would like very much to know where she is. I had hoped to find her returned by now.’
‘So had we,’ said Nanda. ‘She is a friend of yours?’
‘Of sorts. She was to meet us at— we were to meet, the day before yesterday, and she did not arrive. I begin to fear for her safety.’
‘Where were you meeting her?’ said Konrad quickly, remembering Mrs. Halim’s tales of Lady Lysak’s odd absences.
The wariness returned. ‘She would not like me to reveal her habits to strangers.’
‘We’re acquaintances,’ said Nanda. ‘Or, he is.’
‘Not close enough, or you would already know.’
Konrad, losing patience, reviewed his options. Nanda could attempt to Read the man, but getting through his — and her — layers of coat and gloves might not be feasible, out here in the street. He could summon the serpents, order them to bind his spirit for a time; by such means, he could be forced to talk.
Or Konrad could shed the cloak of normality that hid his true nature, and let this obstructive fellow see just how dangerous it could be to inconvenience the Malykant
—
‘May we introduce ourselves?’ said Nanda, shooting Konrad a warning look. What? How could she possibly guess what he had been contemplating? ‘I am Irinanda Falenia,’ she continued, making the stranger a slight curtsey. ‘And the dark, impatient fellow is Mr. Konrad Savast.’
Nanda, in defiance of all social convention, held out her hand for the stranger to shake. If she had been wearing gloves, she had left them in her pocket.
‘Viktor Kirsanov,’ said the stranger, with perhaps a trace of reluctance. He moved to take Nanda’s hand — perhaps instinctively, for after a moment he thought better of it, and made to withdraw his hand again.
Nanda was too quick for him. She caught his gloved hand in her own, and with a deft movement half stripped off the glove. ‘Oh, forgive me,’ she said, smiling. ‘Such clumsiness.’
Her show of ease did not much soothe Viktor Kirsanov. In fact, Konrad might have said her behaviour actively alarmed him, for he immediately withdrew his hand and took a step back. ‘I must…’ he said, and trailed off, staring at Nanda. Konrad received his first clear view of Kirsanov’s face: pale as Nanda’s, and his widened eyes were every bit as blue as hers, too. Marjan? His name did not suggest it, but his colouring was unmistakeable.
Then he turned and fled.
‘Let him go,’ said Nanda calmly as Konrad made to follow.
‘Yes? Did you learn something?’
‘Maybe,’ she said slowly. ‘He… Konrad, that man is a spirit witch.’
‘You mean, like you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did he Read you, too?’
‘I cannot tell. We aren’t all Readers. It is no common ability.’
‘Very well. And Lysak?’
Here Nanda hesitated. ‘I received no clear impression about her,’ she said. ‘But unless I am much mistaken… whatever his business with Lady Lysak, it is closely related to his nature. As was the meeting she failed to attend.’
‘So,’ said Konrad, thinking furiously. ‘So…?’
‘So it is possible Lady Lysak is a spirit witch, too. And if she is… I think I may know where she’s gone.’
Chapter Seven
Ice splintered under Nanda’s feet, the sound attended by the slush and squelch of soft earth drowned in snow, and half frozen. The Bones was perilous territory at any time, but in the depths of the winter, only the foolish ventured to leave the roads, and plunge into the wildernesses that lay in between.
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