The Amethyst Angle

by C. Ryan Bymaster

  A few men and women on the patio stand up and salute Trip as he walks around and stands at my table. He salutes them back before he pulls out a chair and joins me.

  “You still drink tea, right?” I ask. “I figured since you’re on the job and your fellows are watching, tea would be more appropriate. I could order something stronger if you’d like?”

  “Stop, Gideon. Just stop.” He looks at my belongings. “What’s all this? This better be important. I’ve got the Head Magistrate breathing down my neck now, and word is she’s this close to suggesting to the Council that I be asked to hand over my pin and take an early retirement.”

  I have a few choice words to say about the Head Magistrate but after looking at my old partner, really looking at him, I deflate just a little.

  “You look like crap, Trip. Have you slept?”

  Trip pinches his nose, rubs his eyes. “Not a wink.” He drops his hand and looks at me. “Have you?”

  “Slept like a baby. Well, half of the night, at least.”

  Aunt Lily comes between us and deposits our teas on the table. His eyes light up with familiarity and I catch a hint of relief in them as well. “Good to see you, Captain.”

  “You as well, Derrick.”

  “Your order will be out in just … ah, here it is,” Aunt Lily exclaims as a young woman walks up and sets three plates down. Aunt Lily gestures to each plate. “Meat, vegetable, and sugared-plum. Plums are,” he looks at me, “very much in season currently.”

  I smile. “Thank you, Aunt Lily.”

  I surmise he’s about to tell me to call him Derrick but a glance at my satchel stills his tongue. “Very well then. Please, enjoy.”

  And I do, going for the meat dumpling first. It takes one bite, one savory bite, for Trip to give in and grab one himself. Your professional life could be one rainfall away from being washed out to sea in the gutters, but Aunt Lily’s dumplings will never be something you won’t enjoy as a last meal.

  “So,” Trip says, licking his fingers and picking up a ball of vegetable-and-doughy goodness. “Want to explain why my men have come to tell me you’ve planted yourself in the Watch’s most frequented diner?”

  “I needed to speak to you. Figured this would be the quickest way to get a meet.” Trip rolls his hand to get me to go on. “I’ve got a plan to wrap this case up nicely. One that should make the Head Magistrate very happy.”

  “How?”

  “By making the murderer show himself.”

  “How will that make the Head Magistrate happy?”

  “I get the murderer to admit the crime and the Aristocracy is then able to take full control of Anderest’s will and execute it the way they see fit. And the Head Magistrate can keep her mouth shut about how she got the will in the first place. You lock up the murderer just like you said you wanted to back when this all started. The people see that the Watch, namely the Most Honorable Captain of the Watch, does what he always intends to do: protect the people. Everybody wins. End of story.”

  Trips eyes bounce back and forth between mine for a while. “What part do I play in this grand plan of yours?”

  I detect cynicism but I let it slide. “Glad that you asked. First—”

  “First?”

  “First, I need some letters and packages delivered at noon tomorrow. No earlier, no later.”

  He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms at his chest. “We of the Watch are not in the delivery service.”

  I put my elbows on the table. “Just have it done, Trip.”

  “Fine.” He comes back in and looks to my satchel. “What else?”

  I pull out a drawstring bag from the satchel and slide it across the table to him, right between the two empty plates. He eyes me curiously then opens it.

  “I need those charged,” I say.

  His eyes go as wide as the empty plates. “There’s at least a half-dozen crystals in here!”

  “Seven, to be exact.”

  “That’s going to cost an arm and leg,” he says. “Do you have the coin to cover it?”

  “I need you to cover the cost.” Before he can protest, I add, “A murderer is at stake here, Trip. I wouldn’t ask this of you if it didn’t help with the case.”

  I watch as his resolve breaks away. The request to have him deliver the letters was just to get him to dip a toe in the cold water. I had to get him used to the temperature. And now that he’s in …

  He closes the bag and slides it closer to himself. “Anything else the Watch can do for you, Master Knell?”

  Let’s see if I can get him to dunk his head. “Now that you mention it, I’ll need a quarter barrel of kerosene.”

  “And what do you need that for? You’ll have your crystals charged. No need for lamps or heat for quite a while.”

  “Just have it delivered to Fermenster Street,” I say. “Anytime Sunday evening will do just fine.”

  “I swear to the gods that if you make something go boom—”

  I lift my hands up. “Don’t worry, nothing’s going boom. At least, I hope not.”

  He taps the table then takes a sip of tea. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t have absolute trust in your methods, Giddy.”

  With that, I know he’s on board. “Thanks, Trip,” I say. I look down at the last, lone sweet dumpling and my mouth waters in anticipation.

  First, though, I want to make sure everything is in order. I scoot plates and cups aside to make room on the table and upend my satchel. The contents clink and thud as they settle and Trip leans forward to take a look.

  “This,” I say, handing over a thin envelope, “is to be delivered to Haurice at the Herchsten Estate. This,” another thin envelope, “goes to Maanzethelin. I’m sure your people know where to find him.”

  He sucks in a lungful. “The mind flayers? What have you gotten us into, Giddy?”

  “Think of it as a backup plan.”

  “If your plan requires a backup plan, you need a better plan.”

  “I’m only using what you taught me back in the day.” I continue on, sliding over the largest package. “This goes to the Chronicler. And this one goes to the Arcanium.” The last is the heaviest, and jingles quite a bit.

  Trip hefts the package going to the Arcanium and his lips tighten at the weight of the coins inside. “This has got to be a fortune.”

  “Insurance, of a sort,” I say. “And it’ll leave me nearly broke for the time being. Which means,” I pause and look around the fancy establishment we’re dining in, “dinner has to be on you.”

  It looks like I just told him his dog died. As I wait for him to recover, I shrug and reach for the sweet dumpling.

  With speed I didn’t think the man had in him, Trip lashes out with both hands, one hand gripping my wrist and stopping my fingers just inches from the pastry, the other snagging the delicacy. Still death-gripping my wrist, Trip opens wide and pops the dumpling in his mouth. I doubt he even chews before swallowing and I’m appalled at the notion of a person not enjoying such a treat the way it’s meant to be enjoyed.

  He lets me go, swallows one more time to make sure the thing went down the right pipe, then takes a long drink of his tea. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve then declares, “Since I’m paying, it’s only right.”

  “Did you even taste it?” I ask, dumbfounded.

  “Yeah. I love peaches.”

  “It was plum, you bastard. Sugared plum.”

  “Oh. Well, it was to die for.”

  Men have died for less, I think. “Whatever. I’ll just make sure I order double the dessert tomorrow then.”

  Trip looks like the dumpling may have in fact gone down the wrong tube when I say that.

  I grin. “You and I have a dinner date tomorrow. We’re going to the Far and Wide.”

  “No.” He plants his hands on the table and shakes his head. “No, no, no. I am not paying for a dinner there.”

  I offer him my warmest smile. “Come now, Trip. I wouldn’t make you pay after all you’re doing for m
e—for this case. Tomorrow night will be on me. One-hundred percent.”

  He lets out a long breath. “How is that going to happen? Pardon me for not trusting you, but you just gave away what I assume is the bottom of your coin chest.”

  “Julien owes me,” I say. “Well, actually, I owe him, but that’s all semantics.”

  “I’m not bringing any coin tomorrow,” Trip tells me. “If you can’t cover dinner, you can wash Julien’s dishes by yourself.”

  “No coin needed,” I assure him. “But I would ask you one last favor. This one really has nothing to do with the case but it will be a necessity …”

  20

  A DRAGONFLY AND A CLEAN SHIRT

  “Stop fidgeting with it. We’re a block away, too late to go back and change.”

  I stare daggers at Trip. “I just thought you’d have brought me a shirt that wasn’t so snug around the waist.”

  “It’s not snug when I wear it.” He glances at me with a grin.

  “I’m not fat. Just a little out of shape.”

  “Sitting on your ass all day for a job will do that to you.”

  “I don’t sit on—never mind. At least it’s clean,” I admit.

  And it is. Beige, long-sleeved, polished buttons, stiff collar, and pressed. Much better than my best shirt, which is beginning to look more and more like a barkeep’s rag at a no-rules brawl house. I’ll have to see about getting Trip to leave this borrowed shirt to me after this is all over. I’m sure he’s got plenty back at home.

  “You’re sure you have this covered?” he asks for the thousandth time. We just stepped up onto the sidewalk and joined the line of patrons waiting to be let in to the Far and Wide, and I can’t help but notice his surreptitious scan of the crowd. I wonder if he even knows he’s doing it, or if it’s all second nature for him now.

  “You worry too much, Trip.” I pat my trouser pocket though, just to make sure it’s still there.

  “Comes with the territory.”

  By territory, I don’t think he’s referring to Julien’s establishment. I ignore his comment and join him in perusing the faces in the queue. Directly ahead of us is an older couple of obvious wealth. She’s wearing a long dress of some dark satin material topped with a shawl of lustrous white fur, likely from a snow fox, while he’s in a straight-cut jacket that’s black as a coal miner’s lung. I can’t see the front, but I’m sure his buttons are finely cut rubies, charged to keep the bite of the evening air at bay.

  Behind us is a group of young women, done to a spectacular tee. Hairstyles abound, from flat and pinned to fluffed and using enough air space to make birds have to detour around them, and their dresses range from ankle-gripping to thigh-revealing. One ebony-skinned girl in the group looks my way, and I offer her a gentlemanly bow, which gives me the opportunity to give her a proper once over. She’s got the highest hair and shortest skirt of the bunch and I open my mouth to compliment her when Trip smacks me on the back of the head.

  The dark beauty giggles, then outright laughs at me, and before I can protest, her friends swarm around her, closing her off from me.

  I round on Trip and snarl. “You bastard.”

  “This is business. Act like it.”

  “I was just making nice with the clientele.”

  “Make nice with the welcoming committee,” he whispers, drawing my eyes up to the front of the line. Julien has made an appearance, clapping shoulders, shaking hands, brushing cheeks with his lips. I watch him go through his motions and notice his eyes keep traveling to mine.

  We finally make the door and Julien pulls me and Trip aside. To his side is the bear that saved my life in the alley not too long ago. I nod my thanks to the bear and he nods in return.

  “I didn’t think to see you back so soon, Gideon,” Julien says. He’s wearing his smile the way I’m wearing Trip’s shirt—it just doesn’t quite fit. “And you’ve brought a guest.” He turns to Trip and bows. “Pleasure, Captain.”

  “Pleasure, Fareski.”

  “Not that I don’t enjoy your presence, Captain, but I had hoped to see Gideon’s previous companion.”

  “She’s unavailable,” I say. “You’re stuck with us tonight.”

  “You make it sound so base, Gideon. All are welcome at the Far and Wide. Except …”

  “Yes?” I ask, playing into his game.

  “Not all can easily afford the comforts of the Far and Wide in such a consecutive manner.”

  The heart of the matter, and the reason why I brought the dragonfly. I tap my pocket in an obvious manner and Julien cocks his head in curiosity.

  “A minute of privacy,” I say, looking up at the bear then at Julien.

  Julien in turn looks at Trip then back to me. Having the Captain of the Watch by my side allows me certain leeway and Julien nods. “Marcus,” he says to the bear, “please watch the door. I’ll speak if I need you.”

  “Mmhmm,” Marcus the Bear throatily accedes. He lumbers to the front door and I note he’s wearing the same earring that allows Julien to speak directly to him.

  “So,” Julien says, drawing me and Trip further aside until we stand below a telektric lamp. “You have something to show me, yes?”

  “I do,” I say. “And tonight is a night of celebration.”

  Julien’s eyes narrow. “Oh, really? How is that?”

  “I’ve practically closed the case, with help from Captain Standard here, of course, and this is my way of showing my appreciation to him.”

  Julien’s eyes flash with anticipation. “Expensive appreciation. You’ve been paid handsomely for your services?”

  “Let’s just say I’m soon to come in to quite a bit of coin. This case has offered me a chance to be … properly compensated for all I’ve been through.”

  “Tenacity does pay,” Julien offers. “Though, you said you are soon to come into coin. Do I presume you are still at odds with your purse?”

  “Which is why I’ve brought this.” I pull out the dragonfly and hold it up in the light. For all its worthlessness, it sure does shine and glitter like it’s worth a fortune.

  “May I?” Julien asks. I hand it over and he inspects it closely. “Hmm,” is all he says.

  “It’s common knowledge that you know people, Julien. People who locate and sell special pieces.” I nod at the dragonfly. “And I know that will fetch those people quite a sum.”

  “It’s a nice piece, to be sure, but it will hardly get you a table here.”

  “Oh, I think it’ll get me and the captain the best table in the house.”

  “I, uh … I’m sorry, but you think this is worth—”

  I lean in close and whisper, “What if I told you this peculiar item came directly from Anderest Herchsten’s vault?”

  “What?” Julien glances over my shoulder then holds the dragonfly up to the light again.

  “Anderest had some interesting things in his vault,” I say. “Very interesting. You should have seen what else I found tucked in a corner, behind a curious little painting.”

  He tries his cursed best to stare through my eyes and read my thoughts. “Are you saying that you have the—”

  “I’m saying, Julien, that you take this dragonfly as a token of good faith. In return, you give us the best table, the full five-course meal, and two, no, three desserts.” I still owe Durmet. “That will fetch you a coin or two,” I say with a wink at the dragonfly, “from those interested in other items from Anderest’s vault. And any expenses left to the bill, well, let’s just say I will easily be able to cover them by tomorrow night.”

  “Tomorrow night?”

  “That’s when I bring this case to an end and collect what’s mine.”

  “What’s yours.”

  “Exactly.”

  Julien looks at Trip and Trip nods.

  That ill-fitting smile Julien wore when first seeing us is now much more tailored. The dragonfly disappears into his pocket and he drapes his arms around both mine and Trip’s shoulders.

  “Let
’s get you two inside, where it’s warm and bright and proving to be such a merry night!”

  An hour later, bellies full of gourmet meats and greens, ears enticed by numerous vocal beauties and practiced musicians, and heads slightly wobbly from the finest liquors, Trip leans in toward me and asks, “Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

  “Not much enough,” I proclaim, downing a half-glass of brandy that is likely meant to be sniffed, swirled, and sipped. “In fact,” I say loudly, waving for our serving boy’s attention.

  The boy comes to stand smartly at our table, which is smack-dab in the middle of the floor, directly below the massive chandelier, and I hold up my empty glass. “One more, please. And one for everyone on the floor!”

  Those at the tables nearest us take a moment to catch my meaning, then one man in a bowler hat and vest raises his empty glass my way and calls out his thanks. Soon enough I’m getting more thanks than I can count and the boy dissolves away. I track his movement, where he stops in a discreet corner and speaks with none other than Julien Fareski.

  Fareski listens intently, glances my way, then nods, sending the boy to the bar to fill my order.

  I like to think I made many a friend that night, and still Trip can’t seem to enjoy himself. Oh well, his loss. I raise my glass in toast to all my new friends and down my drink.

  By the time I stumble out of the Far and Wide with Trip’s help, my head’s swimming. But not enough to forget the dessert tin I have in a death clutch with both hands. I can’t forget Durmet this time.

  “Is he all right, Captain?”

  We both turn at Julien’s voice. He’s caught us just outside the door and I notice he’s not trailed by any of his guards.

  “He’s fine, Fareski,” Trip speaks for me. “You know how some people get when they think coin is no object.”

  Julien’s eyes glitter accordingly. “Oh, but I do.”

  “I need to get him to bed,” Trip says.

  “Of course, of course.” Julien sniffs disdainfully as he takes in my bleary eyes. “I would wish you good luck closing the case tomorrow, but I hardly think you’d remember the words.”