Copper Cove

by Robert Dahlen

  I stood up, in spite of the sudden weakness in my knees, and helped Sophie to her feet. “What happened?” she asked. “Why did it do that?”

  “I don't know. It felt like there might have been—”

  “What the Devil is going on out here?” I looked over and saw a crowd had gathered near us, staring at the remains of the lamp. Among the onlookers was Minister Strom, in an expensive and well-tailored greatcoat, who was standing in his office doorway. He was tall and thick, with piercing eyes set below eyebrows that were almost as bushy as his whiskers.

  “There’s been some sort of accident, Minister,” Sophie said as she dusted herself off.

  Strom squinted. “What, the lamp exploded?”

  “It did. It’s a good thing that no one was hurt.”

  “Except for that couch.” Strom shook his head. “Beastly things, those couches. They need to be replaced anyway.”

  “Minister Strom? About the interview?” Sophie asked hopefully.

  “It’ll have to wait,” Strom said. “I have some last-minute inspections to supervise on the train. Perhaps on Monday, after we’re finished with launching the rail line?”

  I could see Sophie holding back a sigh. “Monday, then. I’ll call to set up an appointment.”

  “Of course. Just be careful around those lamps. Bloody things are dangerous.” Strom hurried down the hall, adding over his shoulder, “I’ll have a guild crafter look at the rest soon.”

  I picked up Darjeeling. “I’m sorry,” I said to Sophie.

  “It’s all right,” she said softly. “Shall we go?”

  “Let’s.” We walked towards the exit.

  Near the door, I saw another lamp on a table, identical to the one that had exploded. I strolled over to it, checked to make sure no one was watching, and set a finger on it. A moment later, I nodded and rejoined Sophie as she headed outside.

  There was a queue for catching a cab outside of City Hall. As we took our spot and waited, Sophie asked, “So what’s next? What do you have planned?”

  “My commission,” I said softly. “I need to finish it tonight.”

  “That quickly? Can you do it?”

  “With enough tea, maybe.” I tried to grin, but I was still shaken, and it was apparent that Sophie was as well.

  “We should have you dropped off somewhere for takeaway before you head home,” Sophie said as a cab pulled up.

  “Sounds fine,” I said. “There’s a place the next corner down from my flat.”

  We climbed aboard the cab, I gave the driver the address, and we set off. “You’re not going to invite me in to watch you work?” Sophie said with a slight smile.

  “I wish I could,” I said. “It’s still a confidential project, though.”

  “Of course. I needed to get back to the Courant anyway.”

  “And work on my story?”

  “If I can. Tabitha? Might I ask you a question?”

  “Go ahead,” I said.

  “You were testing that lamp in the hall when we were leaving, weren’t you?” Sophie said.

  “I was.”

  “You didn’t sense anything unusual about it, did you?”

  “Not at all. It wasn’t like the one that exploded.”

  “I thought so.” Sophie looked into my eyes. “I can trust you to keep a secret, right?”

  “Of course!” I said.

  “Right, then. This other story I’ve been working on…” Tabitha squirmed in her seat and continued in a low voice. “There are rumors going around that there was an accident that happened two weeks ago, while the tracks were being laid for the rail line. A rail slipped from a crane as it was being lowered into place. Three guild members were killed.”

  I turned pale. “Oh Gods.”

  “No one’s willing to discuss this on the record, as they don’t want the news to disrupt Saturday’s ceremonies. But more and more people are trying to keep the news from coming out, and it’s going to look bad for everyone involved when it does.”

  “Is that why Whitlock was so furious with you yesterday?”

  “In a nutshell.” Sophie paused. “I’ve been trying to interview Strom about it, but he’s been pushing me off until today, and...and the thing with the lamp...”

  My eyes widened. “You’re saying it wasn’t an accident?”

  “I’m saying it seems like too much of a coincidence. And now I’m truly concerned that I’m getting too close for Strom’s comfort.”

  “Sophie…” I swallowed. “Are you sure going ahead with this story is a good idea?”

  “It probably isn’t at this point.” Sophie straightened up, and I could see a gleam in her eyes. “But I’m not going to be intimidated, by Strom or anyone else. The truth will come out.”

  “All right then. Just...just be careful?”

  Sophie smiled and patted my hand. “I will be, Tabitha.”

  Damn it, heart, beat! I thought as we pulled up in front of the Plow and Anchor. “So is this it? Are we done?”

  “With the story, yes. And the next few days, I suspect I’ll be busy at the Courant covering the Velessan Express. After that…” She seemed to be blushing. “We’ll have to see.”

  I smiled. “You know how to get in touch with me.”

  “Good point. Take care, Tabitha.”

  “You too.” I climbed out of the carriage and started towards the shop. I paused and watched the cab speed off, presumably towards the Courant. I still had no clue about Sophie, about if she felt the same way towards me I did towards her, and all I could do was hope that she’d want to see me again.

  I would happily have gone home and daydreamed about Sophie, but work called. I sighed and stepped into the takeaway shop to order my dinner.

  The Spud and Anchor knows me quite well; they started my order of fish and chips the moment they heard me at the door. I had them prepare a large order, as I hadn’t had my usual lunch, and this was going to last into the next morning if all went well. They had it ready without too much delay.

  As I set off for my flat, I noticed that the shop had used pages from the Courant to wrap my food. I smiled when I saw Sophie’s name. I wonder if this will make her chuckle when I tell her, I thought. I hope I get a chance to.

  My attention was adrift. Part of me was focusing on the commission and the long night’s work ahead, and the rest was thinking of Sophie and her smile. This is why I was startled when I walked past the entrance to Avalanche Alley and heard the voice. “Tabitha Miles?” it said.

  I spun and glanced down the alley, suddenly aware that my tools were in my workshop and all I had to defend myself with were fish and chips with a generous helping of vinegar. “Yes?” I said cautiously.

  The alley was dark, but I could make out a tall figure in the shadows. When it spoke again, I could hear that the voice was muffled and disguised. “What happened to Genevieve Stanbury was not an accident,” it said.

  “Your pardon?”

  “Abandon your commission. Walk away. Do not complete it.”

  I clenched my fist. “Are you threatening me?” I snapped.

  The speaker ignored me. “If you do not do this, your safety is not guaranteed. And neither is that of your friend.”

  “Which friend?” I shouted. “Who the devil are you?” I started down the alley, but the afternoon winds started up, blowing dust into my eye. I stopped and blinked, and I saw the alley was empty. In the distance, I thought I heard wings flapping away.

  The wind faded. I wiped the dust from my eyes as I pondered what I had heard. Who was the speaker? How did they know about my commission? I wondered if I should report it to the police, but I was worried about how they’d react to an uncertified crafter’s concerns.

  In the end, I knew that I had already committed time and money to my commission, and I wasn’t about to let some mysterious interloper order me around. I resumed my walk home, more determined than ever to finish, and ready to demand answers from my client when I saw him on Friday.

  I spent
the rest of the day, and nearly all evening, working on the commission. I only stopped to eat my takeaway and brew tea. I first attached the last of the mesh; then, I added the gears and wiring as marked on the blueprints. It was past midnight when I finished.

  At least all the work had the side benefit of preventing me from thinking about Sophie, which I managed to do until I had gone to bed. Those thoughts tried to take over at that point, but while I was too tired to resist, I was also too tired to stay awake.

  I was up early the next morning. I wolfed down the leftovers from the night before, then hurried up to the shed. I triple-checked the commission, ensuring that everything matched the blueprints down to the last detail. All that was left was to add my craftmark, a small round piece of brass marked with an “M” overlaying a “T”. I took my welding torch, found a spot on the inside of the frame near the top, and carefully attached the brass craftmark. I smiled as I doffed my goggles. My work was done at last.

  A quick shower later, I was on the omnibus for Chimera Street. As Darjeeling napped on my shoulder, I let my thoughts drift. Would my client be there? Would he be pleased? Would he live up to his end of the deal? I found myself having to take deep steadying breaths as the omnibus pulled up at my stop.

  I was nervous as I walked down the street, towards the alley. I half-expected to be ambushed by Elgin or another guild enforcer, and at that point, I might have welcomed the distraction. I smiled briefly at the thought as I reached the alley.

  It was surprisingly clear that day, so I could see my client at the far end, where he had been waiting the day we first me. “Good morning, sir,” I said tentatively as I walked towards him.

  He did not respond. I found myself at a sudden loss for words as I reached him. Was he well? Had I angered him somehow? Was this some sort of elaborate trick?

  “I do beg your pardon, sir,” I said as politely as I could. “Is everything all right…”

  I stopped when I saw the emptiness in his eyes, the blood stains on his scarf and greatcoat. A wind blew up and it caught my client’s body, toppling it to the ground.

  I had not meant to scream. I rarely do, and if anyone says that I did the last time I saw a spider in my bath, they’re lying. But I had never seen a dead body before, let alone someone who’d been murdered, and the horror was too much for me to bear. So I screamed, long and loud.

  Darjeeling stiffened in shock, but from my scream, not from the dreadful sight before us. I knelt by the body, and she jumped from my shoulder and ran off. I was at a loss, unsure what to do. My thoughts jumped to the lost commission, and I was immediately struck by guilt, for what did the money matter when a man was dead?

  “Ma’am?” I looked down the alley, towards Chimera Street, and tried not to panic as the three policemen approached me. “Sergeant Abner Putnam,” the lead officer said; he was short and hefty, with a whiskered chin that could serve double duty as a battering ram. “What’s all this about?”

  “Officer—” I swallowed. “I was supposed to meet this gentleman here, and—and I found him like this…”

  One policeman knelt by the body. “Still warm,” he said. “Must have happened just a few minutes ago.” He began to examine the corpse.

  “Right, then,” Putnam said. “Hutchins? Check for weapons. She could have tossed one in the bin.”

  “Weapons?” I said to myself as Hutchins walked over to the garbage bin and peered in.

  “As for you—” Putnam grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. “No sudden moves. You’ll have to come with us.”

  “What?” I felt my legs tremble.

  “Questioning.” His grip tightened. “We’re going to want to—”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Putnam. Let her go.”

  The policeman and I glanced down the alley as Sophie strode determinedly towards us. “Now, see here, missy--” Putnam started to say.

  “That’s Haverford,” Sophie said. “And Miles here is innocent.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Look.” Sophie pointed down at the body. “Whatever weapon the murderer used, they slashed down with it. You can tell by the angle and depth of the wounds. The killer would have to be as tall as the victim, and Miles is shorter.”

  Putnam rolled his eyes as he released me. “Maybe she’s not the killer, but she knew this poor bloke. She still needs to come with us for questioning.”

  “I didn’t know him!” I said loudly.

  “Then why were you meeting him here?”

  Before I could answer, the policeman who had been studying the body looked up. “Sergeant?”

  “What now, Haskell?”

  “You’ll want to see this.” Haskell had removed the victim’s scarf and was pointing at his face.

  Sophie looked down and gasped softly. “Whitlock,” she said. My eyes widened as I saw him, locked in a final wordless scream of horror.

  “You knew him?” Putnam said.

  “I interviewed him the other day for the Courant.” Sophie shook her head sadly. “How horrible.”

  “Alright, then.” Putnam glared at me. “It’ll be a lot easier on you if you talk.”

  I was at a loss as to what to do. I glanced at Sophie; she looked up at me and nodded very faintly. “All right,” I said with a sigh. “My name is Tabitha Miles, and I’m a crafter. I’d been hired by this man to construct a commission for him, and we were going to meet to discuss delivery and payment.”

  “Fellowship or Double-C?”

  “I’m an independent crafter, actually.”

  Putnam chuckled. “A renegade? Maybe we do need to bring you in.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should protest or run, but Sophie took that decision out of my hands. “Sergeant?” She stood and walked over next to me. “Don’t you and your men have more important things to do?”

  He stared at Sophie for a moment. “All right, then,” he said with reluctance. “But you both had best be watching yourselves. We may need to be asking Miles a few more questions later.”

  “Of course,” Sophie said, taking my arm. “Come along.”

  She led me down the alley, stopping just short of the entrance. I turned to face her, asking, “What the Devil are you doing here?”

  “I…” Sophie stared at the ground. “I didn’t know you were going to be here. I swear I didn’t. I thought I saw Whitlock getting into a cab, so I flagged another one down and followed him here.”

  “So it was just a coincidence?”

  “It was.”

  “And it was quite well-timed. Thank you.”

  Sophie jerked her head up, saw me grinning, and smiled in turn. “I take it you’re all right then?”

  “Mostly.” My smile faded. “I’ve never seen a dead body before.”

  “I have. One of the least pleasant tasks associated with my job.” Sophie scowled. “But who the devil would have wanted Whitlock dead?”

  “And why did they have to kill him before I could get paid for my commission?”

  “He didn’t get a chance to?”

  “That was going to be later today.” I sighed. “Three hundred crowns, gone.”

  “Oh no,” Sophie said softly.

  “I’d taken a hundred out of my savings to pay for the materials for the project.”

  Sophie laid a hand on my arm. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Let me try to get some more information out of Putnam and his men. Then, maybe we can go get something to eat.”

  “I suppose...wait. Where’s Darjeeling?”

  “Was she spooked by what happened?”

  “More likely by my screaming about it.” I looked around the alley. “Darjeeling?”

  “There she is!” Sophie pointed, and I saw Darjeeling scampering on the ground, playing with a rolled-up piece of paper. I walked over to her and looked down, pretending to be cross. She glanced up and seemed to smile. With a sigh, I knelt to let her climb up my arm.

  As she settled in on my shoulder, I glanced a
t the paper. It was dark in that part of the alley, but I could make out some penciled lines. My blueprint, I thought. How in the world did this wind up over here? I glanced over at Sophie, who was talking with one of the policemen and taking notes, before I stuffed the blueprint in my trouser pocket and stood up to go.

  There were many more food carts and stalls on the streets than usual for a Friday, which can be explained by the crowds that had come to Copper Cove for the Saturday ceremony to commemorate the opening of the rail line. One vendor was selling Tirnogan treats, and Sophie and I had purchased two small shepherd’s pies and two rose apricot nectars. We sat on a bench and ate as we watched the Friday crowds go by. “This reminds me of when I visited Tirnog,” Sophie said.

  “When was that?” I asked.

  “When I was nine, with my family.” She smiled wistfully. “They were there on business, but my nanny was able to sneak me away for a quick tour of the city. I remember that the nectar there was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. Have you ever been there, Tabitha?”

  “No, I haven’t.” I broke off a piece of pie crust and handed it to Darjeeling, who sniffed at it cautiously. “I’ve never gone anywhere.”

  Sophie raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never traveled?”

  I blushed. “It’s not because I haven’t wanted to. It’s that...well, travel can get expensive, and I’ve needed to save money for a rainy day. And there always seems to be work that needs to be done.” Sophie sipped her nectar as I continued, “That’s why I really hoped to win that lottery. It wasn’t just to see the Velessan Express and ride on it. It would have been nice to travel the world.”

  Sophie looked at me sadly. “I'm sorry,” she said.

  “Don't be. Sometimes, life just doesn't go like you wish it would.” I stared at my pie.

  “I know all about that. Tabitha…”

  “Yes?”

  “Would you be interested in visiting the Courant’s newsroom?”

  I glanced at Sophie. “What for?”

  “I need to file the story on what we saw in the alley. I'd like to interview you about that.”

  “I'd rather not reveal my identity—”

  “You'll be quoted anonymously. There’ll be no mention of your connection to Whitlock.”