“Except it’s not a disguise.”
Having reminded myself of that fact, I smoothed my clothes and left to meet my guests. My steps were carefully measured as they came down the stairs, calculated to give the cadence of a dignified but harried merchant.
“Master Cargill, gentlemen,” Grabel sniffed as I entered the sitting room.
Two large watchmen stood at ease against the far wall of the room, casually ignoring the cups of klavet steaming in front of them on the table. They wore the standard uniform of the street watchman—the faded blue tabards, the round steel helms and the look of bored indifference all watchmen assume when they are neither bored nor indifferent.
The only thing that stood out as different about them was the cleanliness of their tabards, along with the disconcerting fact that their helms had been recently polished. Their truncheons looked as businesslike as any other guardsman. Also, they both excelled at taking up more space than even a regular, husky, muscular-type should.
The third man in the room was an entirely different matter.
“Ah, Master Cargill! Truly a pleasure!” he enthused as he turned from peering through the small glass door of the bookshelf on the wall. “Is that a copy of the Vahndall’s Defense of the Second Wall in there?”
Captain Wilhelm Drayton appeared young for his rank, early thirties at most, and had surprisingly open and pleasant features. The lines on his face seemed more due to weathering and character than age. Tall and lanky, he wore the short sword on his side in an easy manner that suggested it wasn’t merely ornamental. Something about his stance told me that, unlike most Watch Captains, this was a man quite comfortable with action. He grinned at me, as if delighted to make my acquaintance.
“Why, yes it is,” I recovered. “Are you interested in acquiring it? I understand it is valued in some circles for the defensive strategies contained within. It’s in excellent condition, I assure you.”
“Oh no, sir. I doubt I could afford it, at least not on my pay. It’s you I have come to see.”
Not good.
“Me, Captain?”
“Indeed. I had been hoping to meet you down at the docks, thinking you would be there to pick up your package. But when a courier showed up to collect it, I figured I would save you a bill by sending him on his way and bringing you the package myself.”
Which meant I had been under surveillance for a while, and the Watch had been tracking my business. The fact I hadn’t noticed meant he must be very good at his job, or I was slipping. Either way, this situation just kept getting worse and worse.
“Um...thank you, Captain. But why go to all that trouble? I hope there is nothing wrong, because I assure you, I conducted the transaction for that package with the most honest of intentions.”
“Nothing is wrong, sir,” he answered with a laugh. “Nothing at all. Everything regarding the business of this package is on the up and up—just like all of your other transactions.”
“Pardon me?”
“As far as I can tell, and I do look closely, you are the most scrupulously honest merchant in the entire city of Khrem. Not a single disgruntled customer, no forgeries passed off as poor copies, and not even the hint of scandal in your personal conduct. Outstanding, sir!”
Either Captains of the Watch now paraded around to people’s houses to applaud them for good citizenship, or things were even worse than I first feared.
A glance confirmed neither of the Captain’s associates had touched their drinks. Definitely not good. Nevertheless, despite the feeling of a trap closing in, I decided the time had come to find out the reason for the impromptu visit.
“Then I am in your debt for the package, Captain. And having my integrity vouched for by somebody in as esteemed position as yourself is truly an honor. How may I be of service?”
“It just so happens that I am in need of your services, Master Cargill. I have a proposition for you.”
Interesting.
“Well, sir, I have extensive contacts throughout the civilized shores of the Cambriatic, and even some on the Akartic, so if you are looking for a volume in particular, I can very likely find it. Due to your assistance with my package this morning, I would be more than glad to discount my finder’s fee.”
The grin on his face widened.
“No, Mister Cargill, I’m not looking for a book. I’m afraid I’m not here to acquire any of the services of your business.”
“No?”
“No, sir. It’s your former profession that interests me. I would like to discuss an arrangement with you.”
You could have heard a pin drop in the room.
The captain stood there, grinning. The two watchmen loomed bigger than ever, yet hadn’t moved from their places by their cups on the sitting room table. Grabel remained at his station beside the door, indifferent boredom covering his face, as if watching his employer getting carted off by the City Watch was one of his drearier duties before breakfast.
“I don’t understand,” I swallowed.
“Perhaps we should discuss this in private. Privacy does wonders for open discussion. Do you have a place that might suit that purpose?”
A small flicker of hope ignited. Perhaps blackmail was the order of the day here. It was a lousy prospect, but it beat the alternative.
“I was in the process of having breakfast out on my upper patio, Captain Drayton. Would you be so kind as to join me?” I offered. At least I would have a chance to make a dive over the patio railing into the small garden below, if the need arose.
“Very well, but it will need to be a quick one. We have much to do today and I want to get started as soon as possible.”
Just great.
Captain Drayton told the two watchmen to have a seat and drink their klavets, and then followed me up and out onto the upper patio.
I was confused as well as nervous. The lax attitude of the watchmen suggested they were here on escort duty, rather than ready to drag away a criminal whose misdeeds merited the personal attention of a Captain of the Watch. Blackmail now headed my list as to the probable agenda. As I seated myself back at my little table, Captain Drayton leaned on the patio railing and looked out over the city spread out below.
The Harribeans broke into song just as the sun crested the horizon, turning the treacherous roofs of last night into a multitude of different shades of gold.
While sunlight wouldn’t find its way down to most of the streets for some time yet, the morning had officially begun. I wondered if the Watch Captain saw as much in that view as I did, or if he was merely engaging in theatrics.
“Outstanding,” he admired. “A simply outstanding view, a nice house, and yet modest enough that it would hardly raise any untoward interest. My compliments on your self-control. That’s what gives so many away, the lack of self-control. Of course, you probably know that, don’t you, Master Cargill?”
He looked back at me over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow, then continued.
“Oh yes, a less disciplined man would have bought a far grander house and soon had the entire neighborhood asking what he did to afford such a thing. On the other hand, a less disciplined man would have probably never made it this far. But not you…You buy a sensible little house with a nice view that could easily be explained by your trade in old books and antiquities. No uncomfortable questions for you. Bravo, sir! Bravo!”
I sat and listened to this acclamation in stunned silence. He never asked any question to which I should respond, and despite his apparent knowledge of at least some of the truth, he hadn’t come right out and accused me of anything yet, either.
For the lack of any other response, I chose to remain silent.
“And the most impressive part is that I have been hunting for someone like you for almost a year, and yet only three months ago did I discover you even exist! I mean, I have known others who were careful to cover any evidence that could lead to their downfall but you...you often left no traces of your involvement, or even existence, at all! None
of those little signature tell-tale signs that others leave like they want the world to know what they had done, even if it couldn’t be proven. And then to top it off, you do the unheard of...you walk away from it all, and you succeed in doing it. I salute you, sir. I honestly do.”
I finally gathered enough of my composure to respond.
“Captain Drayton, while all this flattery is appreciated, you simply must have me confused with someone else. I have no idea what you are talking about.”
He leaned back against the railing and favored me with another of his broad grins.
“No, Master Cargill, you know exactly what I’m talking about. You are precisely the man I’ve been looking for. And don’t look so stricken. I’m not here to arrest you.”
“Arrest me? For what?”
“Exactly! For what! There is absolutely nothing to tie you to the missing Eye of Dalob, that Burschwietz painting, or the jeweled scepter that turned up missing in the Vestrulian family’s inner courtroom. Your expertise must be extraordinary! Of course, if the Vestrulians ever suspected you, they might not feel limited by such niceties as evidence and proper procedure. No, I imagine they would go straight to hired thugs, sharp instruments and hot irons. But I’m not here to threaten or blackmail you, Mr. Cargill, so please stop looking at the railing like that.”
I took a long measured breath and willed my hands to relax their grip on the arms of my chair. Besides, I had spotted a steel helmet patrolling behind my garden wall.
That avenue of escape no longer existed.
He had me, and he knew it.
I just couldn’t imagine what he had come here for. If not to arrest me, then what? What other possible use could he have for me? After all these years of evading capture, death, or worse, I had been caught. And the irony of it was that it didn’t happen until I had become an honest businessman.
“What do you want?” I finally managed to whisper.
“Your expertise, Mr. Cargill. Your knowledge and your experience. I want to hire you as a consultant,” he said, seemingly serious, arms folded across his chest. “I need an expert on how certain parts of this city work, and that man is you. You see, too many murders go unsolved in Khrem, and the Lord Magistrate has put me to the task of concentrating on solving more of them. Therefore, I have citywide authority to investigate murders, and murders only.”
“You only investigate murders?”
“Precisely. I am not interested in hunting down thieves or investigating old thefts, at least not those that don’t leave bodies behind. So I would like you and I to drop all pretenses. The sorry fact is that I’m in a hurry, because there has been a second murder of a type that has completely baffled me. I have guards holding the scene and awaiting my arrival there. So, Mr. Cargill, will you please accompany me and offer whatever insight you might have?”
“Captain, you are making a terrible mistake. I’m just a bookseller.”
“Mr. Cargill, I am in a hurry. We can continue this charade in the coach.”
I knew I really had no choice, so I rallied the best I could.
“I’m admitting nothing, Captain Drayton, but I will accompany you and offer what small advice I can.”
Once again, his face lit up in a broad grin.
“Outstanding!”
Chapter Two
“When Akartic winds blow, with north winds and sleet,
Beware of Loomteller and Kingsmarch streets.
For they capture the wind and channel its force,
Bringing swift icy death to both man and horse.”
—Children’s rhyme
The watchmen's coach waited outside my front gate, the very embodiment of everything I spent my life trying to avoid.
Large, long and black, it was a miniature prison on wheels. Two horses pulled a wheeled box with barred windows, and the carriage had the capacity to carry six large men...or ten or twelve prisoners, if the guards involved felt uncharitable. On both sides, it bore the prominent seal of the City Watch, polished to a lustrous shine, for all of the neighbors to see.
"Hop aboard, Mister Cargill," Drayton said as he held the door open for me. "My men are waiting."
I clambered in to find the two watchmen from my sitting room already aboard. Captain Drayton followed and made introductions.
The elder of the two was a large, grizzled old veteran with a missing ear and a knife scar under one eye. The Captain introduced him as Heinryk. He favored me with a speculative look, as if trying figure out if we had previously met.
Beside him sat a hulking young watchman with a single dark eyebrow and enough muscles for two men. Although not quite as tall as his companions, he was easily the biggest. He identified himself as Poole. I could tell the eyes under that massive brow were more intelligent than one might expect, and they regarded me with a large dose of suspicion.
"Men, Mr. Cargill has agreed to join our little team," Drayton announced, "and I'm sure you remember what that means. He is now on our side, and has agreed to use the experience of his unfortunate former life to aid us. Any experience or knowledge he shares with us, stays with us. Let's not forget that he turned his back on his criminal career and reformed himself into an upstanding citizen. That means he has put his trust in us as much as we have in him. We should applaud his courage, and wish there were more like him."
Was this guy serious?
The watchmen didn't look as if they would be applauding any time soon. No, they didn't appear to feel like applauding at all. I tried not to wither under their dual scrutiny as the carriage lurched into motion and we clattered down the twisting lanes of Klyburn Hill.
My mind raced as we descended.
Whatever insane quest this Captain was on, I realized my best bet would be to buy time by humoring him. Angering him would only result in today's trip ending in a cell, or worse, on the Vestrulian doorstep. It made better sense to play along with this mad little scheme while formulating some form of escape.
"Um, so who got killed?" I asked.
"Ah yes, down to business," Drayton replied. "Yesterday evening, a man who goes by the name Half Pint Carew, was found murdered in his bedroom on the top floor of the whorehouse he ran on Silkwinder Street."
"I see."
I remembered Half Pint Carew. The world wouldn't miss him.
"According to the other people at the establishment, he staggered up to bed sometime before dawn while the party still carried on below. That evening, when he didn't come down, his employees found his door locked and were unable to get him to answer. Amazingly, they just left matters at that for a couple of hours before trying to rouse him again."
That didn't amaze me at all.
Half Pint Carew combined six-and-a-half feet and three hundred pounds of meanness with a hair-trigger temper. Half of his prostitutes were missing teeth from making the simple mistake of taking the wrong tone when talking to him. They must have really needed something to have bothered him again after only a couple of hours.
“Finally, after a second attempt a couple of hours later, people became concerned and had one of the bouncers kick the door in.”
Concerned about him? That’s rich.
“Once they got in, they found him dead, next to the bed. He still wore the clothes from the evening before and, apparently, had never made it into bed. The double door to the balcony was opened inwards.”
Now that interested me.
If they were the same balcony doors that used to be there, it would have taken at least three strong men to have forced them inward, and there wasn’t any room on the small balcony to perform such a feat. I remember because I cased that particular door a few years back and wrote it off as too difficult, considering the other dangers and probable payout.
“It sounds like the poor man was robbed.” I elected to keep my naïve bookseller persona in place for the moment.
“No, that’s where this affair gets bizarre,” Drayton replied. “Nothing appeared to be missing. But the manner of death was even stranger—so
mebody cut a small hole right below the rib cage on the left side of his belly and pulled out all of his insides through the opening. Then they must have left the same way they came in, with nothing but the man’s organs for loot.”
That explained how the City Watch got involved.
One of the girls must have gotten spooked at the mess and called in the Watch. If this had just been a standard burglary and cut-throat, Half Pint’s employees would have cheerfully settled for dumping the body down the nearest sewer and having the head bouncer take over the business. But this had been outside their normal experience, and somebody got scared and ran to a watchman. If the rest of them found out which one did it, she would be in for a severe beating...at the least.
I realized the three watchmen were looking at me expectantly.
“I don’t know what to say, gentlemen.” I spread my hands and shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve never heard of anything like this. There must have been some noise, or a shout. Surely a man does not just hold still for evisceration.”
“The bouncer in the hall on the floor below thought he heard a couple of thuds,” Drayton read from a sheaf of papers he produced from a belt pouch, “a couple of minutes after Mr. Carew retired to his room. He didn’t think much of it at the time, since it seems Mr. Carew had gone up in a bad mood and had been known to throw things around from time to time. Also, he assured me he knew what a fight sounded like, and this didn’t sound like that at all.”
I confess I was becoming intrigued.
I knew I needed to be formulating an escape plan, but it wouldn’t be today. Besides, I also knew I would have to leave the city and that was a daunting prospect in and of itself. I had never stepped foot outside of the gates of Khrem in my life. That would take time and planning.
Today I would be better served playing along with this madman of a Captain.
Besides, I have always been a little attracted to puzzles, a little gremlin called Curiosity, which I usually tried to keep on a very tight leash. Curiosity killed a lot more than just cats in my former life—but at the moment, I had been hired to indulge it.
The Ways of Khrem Page 2