He nodded and said in rough Detratan, ‘Allius is a trustworthy man. I have known him for many years and his judgement has mostly been sound. He informs me you are a man of some standing in society. I approve of men of good standing.’ He grinned. ‘They tend to pay for quality and with purer coin.’
Out of politeness, and given the poor nature of his Detratan, I continued in Kotonese, introducing myself and my assistants. ‘You might be disappointed, but I’m not at the moment looking to purchase an item. However I would very much like your help.’
He was indifferent to me now he realized I wasn’t going to give him much money, but I added, ‘And, of course, I expect to pay for your assistance and expertise.’
‘Then we have an understanding,’ he replied, smiling on one side of his face, as if his other half did not function properly. ‘What do you need help with?’
I reached into my pocket, produced the envelope containing the ring, and slid it across the counter to him. Suspecting him of possessing not a little arrogance, I said, ‘No one in the city seems to know what the stone is in this ring. I’m hoping your knowledge is exceptional enough to discern what it might be.’
‘Oh that it is,’ he replied. ‘I am the most experienced jeweller in the city.’
He immediately picked out the ring from the envelope and took it over to a corner where an ornate candelabrum stood. There he examined it at length, humming with confidence – or at least I hoped it was confidence.
‘Very interesting indeed . . .’ he muttered. Without removing his gaze he reached for a small tool from the side and began scratching at the stone in tiny, methodical strokes. He put down that tool only to pick up another and, as he continued working at it, said, ‘Do you mind if I ask where you got this from?’
‘It was taken from the premises of someone who’s recently died,’ I replied.
‘Dead man, you say. Well . . . this item has history. Two dead people are tied to this little trinket already. The man who crafted the metal in which the stone is set died several years ago. Possibly a decade now, I can’t quite remember. Oh, how time gets the better of us, Officer Drakenfeld!’
Nambu started to examine some of the images along the wall, under the watchful eye of Allius, the man on the door. Leana stepped in his line of sight, and let him see the blade on her waist. Though I didn’t feel threatened by his presence, this was just one of hundreds of occasions where I was glad that Leana was close by.
I turned my attention to Vallamon once again. ‘You’re quite certain of who made it?’
‘Oh yes, it’s Harred all right,’ Vallamon said, placing down the tools and once again holding up the ring, tilting it this way and that. ‘You can tell from the way the silver is worked, the tiny leaf motifs. He was never that good – he liked to knock out these things quickly, to take the coin and forget about craftsmanship. You would not catch me working so casually.’
‘Can you tell us anything about Harred?’
Vallamon turned around to face us, still holding the ring. ‘No, just a very average jeweller. Nothing remarkable about him. He was a quiet man. I do not think he had a wife, and certainly there was no son or daughter to take on his business after he passed away. He used to do all sorts of jobs – he wasn’t picky, couldn’t say no, never asked questions. Just piled on the work. That’s the mentality of a man who grew up in harder times, I’d say. The last two decades have been very prosperous for the jewellers, so there was not really any need for such an attitude.’
Didn’t ask questions. Didn’t say no. Perhaps just the right man to set a stone of questionable origin.
‘So do you think this ring is interesting in any way,’ I asked, ‘or is it merely a piece of ornamentation? Only the man who’d worn this wasn’t really one given to wearing rings – or any jewellery for that matter.’
‘There’s something interesting about this,’ Vallamon said, holding up the ring but not handing it over. ‘Yes indeed. I am sorry to say that the gemstone is one that I’ve never before seen, not in my forty years in the trade. An educated fellow might think it a poor quality ruby, but it really is not – it’s far softer than a ruby. The way it’s been cut reminds me of a diamond in many ways, but again the softness, and look at the shallowness of the colour. Very unusual. One assumes that something like this would be heavily polished as well, but . . . No. A dullness. And, very faintly, an unusual coral-like texture. Remarkable stone. I’ve never seen anything like it.’ Vallamon appeared to consider something for a moment and then said, ‘I’ll buy it off you. How much would you like for it?’
‘It’s not for sale,’ I declared.
Vallamon tilted up his chin as if to look down at me – which was quite an effort given his lack of height. ‘That is a great shame. I would like to present it to a few apprentices as a potential new discovery. The guild, of which I am in charge, would thrive with a good debate over this. We’d record it, of course, and speculate—’
‘The ring is not for sale,’ I repeated. ‘But if you, an expert, seem so bamboozled by this stone, I would like to know where an ordinary man might acquire one. And why he would keep that hard-to-find stone hidden from view . . .’
‘Was this the only example of the stone you have found?’
‘Potentially another item had been made,’ I replied. ‘A small amulet.’
‘A second specimen . . .’ Vallamon breathed.
‘We haven’t got that – it was taken,’ I replied. ‘Possibly it was stolen, or maybe it has gone missing. But there is a strong chance that the stone was the same. I showed this one to the wife of the man who had worn the amulet, and she was of the impression it was the same colour.’
Vallamon had presented himself as someone potentially very useful in future. I reached into my pocket and drew out two gold coins, probably enough to purchase some of his cheapest wares. ‘The first coin,’ I said, ‘is for your help and time today.’
‘Much appreciated,’ Vallamon replied stiffly.
‘The second coin is if you could put out an information request in whatever circles you possess – networks that stretch from town to town, tradesmen, your guild, whatever it is – about such a gemstone. Especially where it might have come from. My full name is Officer Lucan Drakenfeld, and I can be found at the palace under the address of the queen’s second secretary, Sulma Tan. Phrase your request in whatever technical terms you wish – I’m sure they’ll be better than the words I have used to describe the stone.’
‘You pay well for information,’ Vallamon muttered.
‘This information could be critical in solving two brutal murders,’ I replied.
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘So this is in connection with Bishop Tahn Valin and the famous Grendor of the Cape?’
‘How did you know?’
‘Nothing remains a secret in the prefecture for long. He was a good fellow, Grendor – he came in here from time to time, but he only ever bought for his lovely young wife. I never spotted any curious pieces of jewellery upon him. I will consider your request as a favour to Grendor’s family.’
Vallamon slid the other gold coin back across to me and, as I met his proud gaze, my estimation of the businessman increased.
The Manuscript Hall
Horse dung and woodsmoke filled the air. A priest gave a sermon by a fountain nearby, though no one was listening to him. The three of us continued through the humid streets.
‘Well?’ Nambu asked.
‘Well what?’
‘Well, that was useless.’
‘Was it?’
‘Stop answering questions with questions,’ she said.
‘Why?’ I replied, trying to hide my amusement at her impatience. ‘OK, I’m sorry. But come now, Nambu, what makes you think that was a useless meeting? I’m serious.’
‘He told you nothing. We got no information. Therefore it was useless.’
‘Some might think so, but not me. Vallamon revealed a great many things that we needed to know. We know that the ring is spe
cial – that it is very rare, enough to puzzle an expert of his pedigree. It makes me think that the stone is significant to this case. If it’s the same kind of stone as in the missing amulet owned by Grendor, then it’s incredibly significant. The connection – and whatever it might throw up – could be the key. Indeed, one might speculate that if anyone else wore a stone like this, they would have good cause to be worried.’
‘It would be worth trying to send a message out to those citizens of the prefecture . . .’ Leana added.
‘Maybe. If we dressed up the message as one of public safety . . . It also means that those individuals might come forward, and give us more information.’
‘Though I do not think they will come forward,’ Leana said. ‘These people will most likely have something to hide.’
‘True,’ I said. ‘If they fear for their lives because of what happened to Grendor and the bishop then they might want protection or even to not draw attention to themselves.’
‘They will have something to hide. Some secret.’
Nambu asked the question, before I could. ‘Why would you think that?’
Leana addressed Nambu. ‘Think. People do not die horrible deaths for no good reason. Thought has gone into them. There has to be something behind such killings – as with most killings. If the precious stone is the link, then those people who have the stone have probably done the same thing as those who have been killed. They will be in fear for their lives, yes, but if their past is so bad it gets them killed . . .’
‘You make a good point,’ I said. ‘I hadn’t thought of it quite like that.’
Nambu was quiet on the issue. Part of me wondered if she knew what she was letting herself in for, though I suspected her days were going to be more interesting than she originally thought, and more stimulating than shuffling to and fro down those echoing palace corridors. ‘So where do we go now?’ Nambu asked.
‘Sulma Tan mentioned that there was a manuscript hall to be found within the prefecture.’
‘Sure, I know where it is,’ Nambu said.
It occurred to me how useful it would be to have someone who knew the prefecture well. ‘Then lead the way.’
‘OK. What do you want from there?’
‘Information,’ I replied. ‘Knowledge.’
‘What else would you go there for,’ Nambu muttered.
‘You asked.’
‘What kind of information?’
I sighed, wondering just how many more questions the girl would ask. ‘The manuscript hall contains information on key figures of the city. I would like to find specific details of naval movements – specifically of Grendor’s past adventures. Sulma Tan also said there was a section on recorded deaths, as part of the previous national census. While considerably out of date, it may provide something of interest – on the subject of ritual killing. And before you ask why, it’s to see if there have been any similar deaths in the past.’
‘That all sounds pretty dull if you ask me,’ Nambu said.
‘The business of the Sun Chamber is not all sword fights in the dark,’ I replied.
‘Unfortunately,’ Leana added.
As we continued through the streets, more than once I suspected that we were being followed. To an extent, I expected to be followed – if not by our friend from the previous days, then by one of the queen’s agents keeping an eye on Nambu.
But this didn’t feel subtle. At least three men gawked at us as we strode by. They were tall fellows with a simple though colourless military look about their clothing, and were loitering at different parts of the street. This common association between them was unnerving.
Later still, as we moved through an older part of the prefecture, not too far from the river, Leana casually informed me that there were five men following us in a group, all with that same, deliberately anonymous look.
We picked up our pace.
Luckily, we managed to make our way up the steps of the manuscript hall without being caught. The building itself would act as some kind of protection, and it was possible that those who were following would be put off now that we were inside an official royal property.
From the outside, the manuscript hall did not look all that impressive. Over the doorway was a large triangular pediment, the kind that might be seen in numerous secondary temples across Vispasia. From the doorway there was a view overlooking a small market area. Statues of unfamiliar warriors stood in pairs outside, their crumbling faces blighted by age, their stone swords dulled by time.
Inside, however, the place was remarkable. Well-kept green marble floors extended into the distance. A wide central passageway led through row upon row of polished oak shelving. Each section of shelving was around twenty feet wide, six feet deep and went up to the ceiling. On each of the shelves lay dozens of rolls of paper, ranging in quality, age and size, but given the number of shelves there must have been thousands of elongated scrolls.
The ceiling featured good quality glass, allowing plenty of light to shine through – perhaps to minimize the risk of fire. I cast a wary eye on the metal cressets that were fixed to each unit, illuminating the path through the hall.
Attendants in plain white, almost monastic garb, proceeded slowly up and down the rows, making notes, carrying scrolls, or whispering in the alcoves. On one side of the hall stood a section containing impressively bound books; it had been a long time since I’d seen so many in one place.
We browsed through them, leisurely, almost forgetting that we had been followed on the way to the building. The books were written in many languages, though mainly Detratan – and using some of the old form, from when the Empire flourished centuries ago. There were letters from Lentus Magnus, one of the Three Noble Emperors. I was shocked to see theorems from the mad emperor Fingus Trentnor, who used to boil his prisoners and attempted, in his latter days, to boil his friends and family as well. Apart from his two sisters, of course, whom he married simultaneously. If there had been more time to read, I would have liked to spend some time with that entertainingly bizarre text, especially since I had thought them long-forgotten.
At my request Leana remained vigilant at all times, and prowled the hall for any signs of the men tailing us. She would no doubt look for potential escape routes should we be attacked – I had no need to ask her to do so.
Meanwhile Nambu and I headed deeper into this resplendent building. Nambu directed me to one of the attendants. I asked her where we might find information on shipping movements, trade and old census data – from before the time of Sulma Tan.
The attendant, a thin woman in her forties, suggested I give a donation to the upkeep of the manuscript hall if I wished to make use of the facilities. The royal blessing, she said, only went so far. It didn’t seem an unreasonable request so, after I placed some silver coins in the donations box on the wall, we were directed to a dusty corner where there was a private desk and a candle to work by. Moments later, the attendant brought over some of the information we’d asked for before she wandered off and left us to it.
‘You can read, I take it?’ I asked Nambu.
‘What do you take me for, a village fool?’ She perched up on a stool alongside me. ‘I’ve had some of the finest tutors in the country.’
‘I merely thought I’d check,’ I replied, sliding one of the tomes over to her. ‘Read through that.’
‘What is it?’
‘A list of registered shipping companies.’
‘Haven’t you got something exciting? It is hardly an epic poem.’
‘No, but right now this is more important than poetry. Please, scan through it.’
‘Do I have to?’
‘You could go back to your mother if you wanted.’
‘Fine.’ Nambu gave me a look of disdain before pulling open the heavy cover of the book. ‘What am I looking for?’
‘I’d like to know if any of these companies were registered in the name of Grendor of the Cape.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going through these death records.’
We studied assiduously for a good two hours. Now and then Nambu would let out a gentle sigh, but I was impressed with her diligence. Meanwhile the census data provided a detailed and interesting reminder of the number of ways one could die, but I spotted no abnormal patterns. People died of lung diseases, accidental poisonings, horse tramplings and failures of the heart. With respect to recorded murders, many of which remained unsolved, there were stabbings, cut throats, objects being dropped from a great height, and a good number of deliberate poisonings using all kinds of substances. In rural districts there was more violence. But in the city of Kuvash it seemed that a lot of people had simply vanished, and over a space of about two decades. While in another era this might have been because of war, in times of peace I could only attribute it to a lack of information, or people falling between the gaps in society. Or a particularly rigorous purge by the queen, for there was a noticeably blank space alongside state-sanctioned executions. Simply it might be attributed to the wrong numbers in the wrong columns.
Leana cautiously made her way around the hall, peering this way and that, ever vigilant. Whenever she passed there were no signs of anxiousness on her part, which allowed me to relax into the research.
‘Look at this,’ Nambu breathed excitedly. ‘I’ve found his name.’
She turned the book towards me and pointed to the page. The writing was not great, but there indeed was Grendor’s name and that of a company called Naval Exports.
‘Excellent work, Nambu.’
It was interesting that he had decided to use his military roots in the company name. From these accounts he had registered Naval Exports thirty years ago, though back then it had been known as Vispasian Exports. It was probably only when he retired that he changed the name, judging by the dates – unless, of course, there had been another reason to make the change.
‘Did you find anything?’ she asked.
‘There are many gruesome ways to die,’ I replied, ‘as there always seem to be. However nothing that I’ve seen seems to share any characteristics with the recent murders.’
Retribution (Drakenfeld 2) Page 17