“Did Guisnard have anything else in the safe?” she asked.
“No.”
“If the books were searched and the correspondence taken,” Amcathra said, “the killer may have thought Guisnard was carrying a message.”
“We’ve been operating on that assumption,” Gifford agreed. “Unfortunately, if he had a list of clients, it was taken. I appreciate your coming forward to tell us that you’d done business with him, Exalted. I don’t suppose you know any of his other customers?”
“The exalted regrets to say that he doesn’t, Inspector,” Taya replied.
“Or where he was staying on his previous visit?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize; I would have been surprised if you had.” Gifford fell silent, the frown still in his eyes. Then he shook his head. “Let me pull out the rest of Guisnard’s belongings, in case they mean anything to you.”
Several minutes later, all four of them stood around the inspector’s desk, gazing at the dead man’s clothing and possessions. Taya picked up each item and turned it for Cristof. Lieutenant Amcathra inspected everything, as well, looking dissatisfied.
Nothing stood out. Guisnard owned exactly what one would expect of a traveling book seller: several changes of clothing, nondescript toiletries and luggage, a crate of books — all science and philosophy — a portable writing desk, and notes on a Mareaux bank that had branches in both Echelles and Grimaucourt. There was no sign of money, jewelry, or a watch. Gifford said they may have been taken by the murderer or any passer-by.
“I can draw no conclusions,” Amcathra said at last, setting down the clothing. “Perhaps there is no link between this murder and the exalted.”
“Perhaps not. You’ve given us more information, at least.” The inspector replaced the valuables in his safe and called constables to carry the rest back to storage.
Cristof resumed his seat. Taya sat next to him.
“Well, Exalted,” Gifford said, “if you don’t mind, I would like to question the rest of your delegation to see if he sold any books to them.”
Cristof signaled his consent to Taya, then repeated his order to obtain the books.
“The exalted says you’re welcome to ask any questions you like,” she replied to the inspector, and then made a show of hesitating.
“Is there anything else?” Gifford asked.
“When the case has been closed, Inspector, what will happen to Mister Guisnard’s books?”
“They’ll be held with the rest of his possessions, to be picked up by his family or his employer.”
“Would you consider selling them to us?”
“That’s not something I can arrange. Besides, I wouldn’t know what price to ask.”
“Perhaps another bookseller could price them for you— the exalted is willing to pay an appraisal fee.”
Gifford narrowed his eyes, concentrating on Cristof as though he could see through the ivory mask and its glass lenses.
“Are you that much of a collector, Exalted Forlore?”
“Inspector, have you ever visited Ondinium?” Taya asked, grasping at straws.
“Yes. I took a year-long course on chemical analytics at the university.”
“I thought you might have; you seem comfortable with our language and customs. Are you also familiar with our religious beliefs?”
“The Lady of the Forge?”
“Yes. The Lady forges our souls anew with each birth, although their substance remains the same, affected by the strengths and weaknesses accrued over past lifetimes. Many things can hinder a soul’s successful rebirth— great sins, great debts, great anger, great love. It’s our job, as the living, to facilitate each soul’s path into the next life by resolving those obstacles. That’s why Ondiniums place so much value in finding and punishing criminals, especially murderers. The lictor caste performs an important service for the living and the dead. As does Mareaux’s police force.”
“And…?” Gifford looked mystified. Taya took a breath and continued.
“Mister Guisnard’s life has touched ours, so we’d like to assist his rebirth. We will do all we can to facilitate your investigation, and, if you’ll permit us, we’ll finish the job that bought him to Echelles by purchasing his unsold books.”
Cristof’s gloved fingers squeezed her arm with approval.
“I…” The inspector shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “You know we don’t have quite the same beliefs about the Lady here in Mareaux.”
“We understand, and of course we’ll respect your decision in the matter. But if you decide no harm will come of it, will you please consider Exalted Forlore’s request? It would benefit Mister Guisnard and the exalted, both spiritually and materially.”
The inspector gave her a long look.
“We would need to inspect the books very carefully before releasing them,” he said, “just to make certain there’s no evidence in them that we may have missed. And, of course, the decision is ultimately the publisher’s.”
“We understand.” Taya felt Cristof shift. She rose to her feet, supporting him as he stood. “Lieutenant, I don’t think there will be room for all five of us in the carriage.”
“That’s all right. I can’t leave the office immediately,” Gifford said, glancing at the clock on his bookshelf. “Lieutenant Amcathra, will you be free in an hour to help me question the rest of your delegation?”
“Yes. Shall we meet at the palace?”
“I’ll be there.” The inspector shook the lieutenant’s hand, and then Taya’s, and then made another deep, correct bow to Cristof. “Thank you for your assistance, Exalted Forlore.”
They gathered Rikard at the office door and headed outside. The wind was picking up again, carrying a chill. Taya looked north. The snow would be falling along the mountain range that divided Mareaux and Ondinium, and the trip from the capital of Mareaux to the capital of Ondinium would be a long one.
Using the weather to excuse their early departure would be believable, she decided.
They climbed into the carriage. Amcathra swung the doors shut and pulled the curtains.
“Why do you want those books?” he snapped.
“Give him a moment,” Taya objected, untying her husband’s mask. “There.”
Cristof rubbed his face, then leaned over and kissed Taya on the cheek.
“My wife explained it perfectly.”
“The icarus would have provided a compelling explanation for their purchase if you were a religiously observant man, Exalted.”
“They’ll be good additions to my library.”
“Infamous Murderesses of History?” Amcathra’s tone was politely skeptical. Taya made another mental note. The lictor read Alzanan.
Then again, “infamous murderess” would be the kind of phrase he’d know in another language.
“I want to see if there are any Mazzolettis in it.”
“Was Guisnard an agent for the Council?”
“Wouldn’t you know better than me?”
“I am the Council’s spy only inasmuch as I have been ordered to evaluate your competence as a diplomat and report back any erratic or suspicious behavior in which you or your wife may indulge. I am not privy to the Council’s secrets. Is Guisnard an agent?”
“Could we discuss this later?”
“I cannot oversee security if I am kept unaware of issues that may affect your safety.”
“Please. I’d like to hear what the mercates have to say to the inspector, first.”
“You intend to be present?”
“I’ll stand behind a door.”
“And then you will tell me whether Guisnard reports to the Oporphyr Tower.”
“Yes.”
Amcathra leaned back in the seat, folding his arms over his chest, and gave Taya a stern l
ook.
“Make him see sense, Icarus.”
Chapter Five
Taya waited while Cristof shed his heavy robes and gave them to Jayce to be brushed off and folded. He’d changed into the same famulate trousers and shirt he’d worn when he’d been a watchmaker on Tertius, making him look much like he had when they’d first met.
Except for his hair.
“By next summer you won’t need the wig,” she observed as he impatiently twisted his long black locks together and reached for a ribbon.
“I look like an idiot,” he grumbled. “The only reason I don’t cut it is that I hate wearing that wig even more than I hate long hair.”
“You don’t look like an idiot. But if you do decide to cut it, go to a barber. No more do-it-yourself hairstyles, Ambassador.”
He shot her a wry glance over the rims of his spectacles, then turned back to the mirror and frowned as he finished tying his hair back in a ponytail.
She smiled, curling up on the divan.
“So, what am I going to tell Janos?” he asked, pushing his glasses higher and turning.
“Then the books are important?”
“Almost certainly.” He walked over to a stack of books on his desk, chose one, and sat beside her on the divan. “This was Alister’s last message, two weeks ago.”
She took it. Criminal Character: The Thirty Fundamental Physical Characteristics of the Criminal Type. She flipped through it, pausing to study the lithographs. Some of them looked like people she knew, but she didn’t see any underlining or other signs of a message hidden in the text.
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s coded.” He took her hand and laid her fingers on the page. “By the gutter.”
Taya ran her fingers down the paper and felt bumps. She lifted the book and tilted it toward the light.
“Are those… punches?”
“Same concept. Alister hid a key card in the first book he sent me. It’s just simple substitution — nothing like a real program — and it’s time-consuming to translate. But he can read and write it on his own, instead of having to ask someone….” Cristof’s voice trailed off.
“But why does he bother? What’s he sending you that’s so important?”
Her husband took the book back, weighing it in one hand before setting it on a side table.
“This book contains information about a pact the Alzanans are trying to make with Tizierian leaders to guarantee an open trade route from the coast up to Samaras. Alister is worried about what will happen if the Alzanans make diplomatic inroads with the Samarians. That could be a dangerous alliance for Ondinium.”
“But why does he care?”
“He says he still loves his country.”
“He says a lot of things.” Taya realized her voice had become sharp, so she shifted and laid a hand on Cristof’s knee. “Look, I don’t mind you sending him money, but don’t trust him.”
“This is the third tip he’s sent me. The first two checked out when I passed them along to the Council.”
“Do they know you’re communicating with him?”
“Scrap, no! I told them I’m getting the information from other sources; tradesmen I worked with on Tertius.” He paused. “That’s probably why Amcathra asked me about Guisnard. The Council must have asked him to identify my sources.”
“If he finds out you’re in touch with Alister, he’ll report you.”
“I know. I hate lying to him, but… I don’t have any choice, do I?”
Not unless he stopped corresponding with his brother, but Taya didn’t think that would happen.
“The problem is, he already suspects I’m lying,” Cristof added.
“You need to get rid of that book. What if Chief Inspector Gifford asks to see the other books Guisnard sold you and discovers the code?” Taya thought about the police officer’s comments, back at the office. “He already suspects the books have some kind of message hidden in them. We shouldn’t have asked for them so quickly.”
Cristof sighed. “Wonderful. The chief inspector thinks I’m a spy and I’m about to pull our delegation out early. I’m the world’s worst ambassador. I told the Council I would be.”
“Nonsense. Besides, now that I’m working for the diplomatic corps, you have to be an ambassador.” She patted his leg. “What would people think if I left my husband for months at a time?”
“That you’d finally come to your senses.”
“Don’t be a idiot.”
“Didn’t you just say—”
“I said you don’t look like an idiot. But sometimes you think like one. Now, what are you going to do about that book?”
“I can’t get rid of it. The publisher will have a record of its sale. If Gifford does ask for it, it will look suspicious if I can’t find it.”
“Maybe they’d believe whoever poisoned you stole it.”
“Taya!” Cristof pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s try to keep the poisonings and Guisnard’s murder separate.”
“What if they aren’t separate? If Alister’s sending you important information, maybe Guisnard was killed to keep it out of your hands. And maybe when the message wasn’t found, someone tried to kill you to keep it out of the Council’s hands.”
“But that would mean Alister’s spying has been discovered.” Cristof shifted restlessly. “I need to find out what’s in those books.”
“What will you do if Gifford finds the code?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could he decipher it?”
“Someone could, I’m sure. It’s not that complex.”
They fell silent.
“What’s Alister doing now?” Taya asked, at last.
“Something he shouldn’t.”
“That seems to run in the family. What, exactly?”
“Something that involves interpreting a very large amount of data.”
“But he’s blind.”
“Yes.”
Taya thought of the punch code in the book and groaned.
“He isn’t working as a programmer, is he?”
“He hasn’t given me any specifics, but… he’s brilliant, you know. It wouldn’t take him any time at all to figure out a way to decipher punch cards by touch.”
Taya straightened, looking her husband in the eye. “Cris, the Council will murder him for that. They have a secret team of lictors that hunts down and executes runaway programmers. Alister was allowed to live because he was blinded and you cut a special deal, but if he’s caught punching, they’ll throw that deal off a cliff. And Alister, too.”
“A secret team of lictors?” Cristof’s lips twitched. “You’ve been listening to Pyke’s conspiracy theories again, love.”
“This conspiracy theory makes sense!” A new thought chilled her. “Is Alister working for the Mareaux government?”
“I don’t know. If he is, he wouldn’t be the first exile a foreign government has taken in to get at Ondinium’s secrets.”
“Oh, scrap.”
“But I don’t know anything for certain,” he added, hastily. “He could be working for any private organization with a difference engine. Industry, finance….”
“If the Council finds out you know Alister’s still punching cards, it’ll call you a traitor.” Taya bit her lip. What had Amcathra said about her husband being ‘expendable’?
Cristof took her hand. She gripped it, ignoring the pain in her palms as she slid closer and leaned against his side.
“I’m sorry.” He disengaged his hand and put his arm around her. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Yes, you should have. You should have told me right from the start. I’d be shouting at you right now for keeping secrets if I weren’t so worried.” She swallowed. “Is this treason?”
His muscles tensed. “
You don’t believe I’d betray our nation, do you?”
“Not betray, but there’s so much in Ondinium that you don’t like….”
“I want reform, Taya, not revolution. And this information is benign. I’m using Alister as an informer; Ondinium has lots of informers in other countries.”
“What if he’s sending you misinformation?”
“That’s always a risk.”
“An exalted shouldn’t work as a spy.”
“I’m not spying; he is. And he’s outcaste. He has nothing left to lose.”
“Except his life.”
Cristof remained silent. She glanced at him and saw a familiar frown furrowing his brow.
She wasn’t telling him anything he hadn’t already considered.
“All right,” she said, in her best decisive voice. She picked up the book and ran her hands over the pinholes again. “Then we need to keep him safe. Have you written this information down?”
“Yes.” He straightened, drawn from his dark reverie by her tone.
“Then smooth down the holes as well as you can, so they’ll be harder to notice.” She handed the book to him. “How does Alister deliver the books when you’re in Ondinium?”
“He sends them from the bookstore in Grimaucourt. The one Guisnard worked for.”
“Have you ever ordered any books there on your own?”
“I don’t need to. Alister just chooses a volume and has it delivered.”
“Well, from now on, start sending regular orders to build a paper trail. Keep your requests vague, if your brother chooses the books. All you need is a record of mail going back and forth between you and the store. I’ll find out which icarus has our delivery route and ask Cassi to let us know if your letters are ever pulled for inspection. Do you pay for the books?”
“No…” Cristof pushed up his spectacles, gazing at her with fascination. “There’s never any bill enclosed. I presume Alister pays for the books and delivery beforehand.”
“Then you need a record of payment, too, in case someone ever checks the bookstore’s ledgers.”
“Like the Council’s secret army of lictor assassins?”
She glowered at him. “I know what records Dispatch keeps for ingoing and outgoing foreign deliveries, so do what I say. Cover your tracks. Don’t leave any gaps that might be suspicious if the Council does decide to check your correspondence.”
Clockwork Lies: Iron Wind (Clockwork Heart trilogy) Page 7