Gryphon Precinct (Dragon Precinct) Page 5

  “Are you two looking for any crystal or—”

  “We were told that you had an image of the dwarf we have in custody.”

  “What, the one involved in the conspiracy to assassinate the king and queen?”

  Dru started to say, “Yeah, that one,” but Aleta spoke first.

  “Actually, we don’t know that for sure. Strictly speaking, we only are able to hold him for smuggling a weapon into Jayka Park. We don’t know for sure that the king and queen were the targets, though that is the obvious choice. But he refuses to speak, or even identify himself, so we need to find out who he is in order for us to—”

  Boneen held up a hand. “A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed, lothLathna.” He turned to Dru. “Does she always blather on this much?”

  “Dunno, she’s only been my partner for a day.”

  “I prefer your late, lamented friend Hawk. He at least knew when to be quiet.” That last was punctuated by a fierce glare at Aleta, who again took a step back.

  Then the M.E. turned to the shelves. “In any event, I do have that crystal. Let me just find it, here. Ah!” He grabbed a crystal and handed it to Dru.

  He gripped the crystal with both hands and concentrated, at which point an image of Lord Albin appeared over it. “Uh, Boneen?”

  Muttering a curse, the wizard snatched the crystal out of Dru’s hand. “These blessed things look too much alike. If this idiot elf hadn’t been distracting me with her tiresome minutiae about your idiotic procedure...” He grabbed another crystal and practically shoved it in Dru’s face. “Here.”

  Again Dru gripped the crystal and concentrated. Again an image appeared. Again it wasn’t a dwarf—this time it was a halfling. “Pretty sure that’s the suspect Iaian and Grovis picked up in that assault case a couple days ago,” Dru said with a grin.

  “Dammit!”

  Boneen provided several crystals in succession, which provided images of Gan Brightblade, the weapon used in the triple murder Dru and Hawk had solved just prior to midsummer, and the Hamnau gem that had been the center of that crazy case Torin and Danthres had had a few months back, before finally getting the right one.

  Relieved at the sight of the same face hovering over the crystal that he had just seen a few minutes before in the interview room, Dru thanked Boneen for his help.

  “Don’t mention it, Dru. I mean that sincerely, I would prefer never to be reminded of this encounter again.”

  As the two detectives beat a hasty retreat upstairs, Aleta said, “I’ve never dealt with the M.E. directly before. I’ve seen him at crime scenes and such, but I’ve never had to interact with him one-on-one. Is he always like that?”

  “Nah,” Dru said, “usually he’s disagreeable.”

  “Wonderful,” Aleta muttered.

  They left the castle and walked in companionable silence down Meerka Way through the tree-lined thoroughfares of Unicorn Precinct, the upper-class district. Dru found himself enjoying the silence.

  “This is very bizarre,” Aleta said suddenly, startling Dru out of his reverie. Upon seeing this, she added, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “S’okay.” He shook his head. “Always like walkin’ through Unicorn. It’s all quiet. Lets you think.”

  “What were you thinking about?”

  Dru hesitated. “Actually, I wasn’t thinkin’ about anything. Was kinda nice.”

  “Well, whatever thoughts you weren’t lost in had to have been pretty intense. We’re not in Unicorn anymore, we’re in Dragon.”

  Frowning, Dru looked around and realized that they were now surrounded by smaller structures, more shops, and there were actually people wandering around, meaning they were in the middle-class section of Dragon Precinct. “Didn’t even realize we’d passed Oak Way. Usually gets louder when you come into Dragon.”

  “I know—that’s what I was talking about. I’ve been in the Guard for seven years, the last four and a half working Dragon. I’ve never heard it as quiet as it’s been the past week. I thought with the funeral it might pick up, but apparently not.”

  When they crossed Axe Lane into Goblin Precinct, the slums of the city-state, the quiet remained. There were more people on the street than in Dragon, but fewer than usual. And they all avoided even making eye contact with Aleta or Dru.

  “I was talking with a friend of mine who serves in Goblin,” Aleta said as one person caught sight of the pair of them and ran into an alleyway, looking frightened. “Crime is lower than it’s been in Goblin at any time that wasn’t midwinter.”

  Dru nodded. “Good. With all the people gettin’ over their Bliss addiction, an’ the shitbrains who killed Hawk bein’ from Goblin, they better hide.”

  After crossing the River Walk, they were in the docklands, which was covered by Mermaid Precinct. It was past midday, so most of the fishing ships had returned from their morning runs and their daily catches had been offloaded. The air had the distinct tinge of fish about it.

  To Dru’s complete lack of surprise, they spent the next hour and a half showing the dwarf’s image to dozens of people on the docks, none of whom recognized him.

  “I’m starving,” Dru said after they finished talking to Jann Forlis, the first mate of the Esmerelda. “Let’s get some food. I toldja this was a waste of time.”

  “The ship he served on may not be in dock.” Aleta’s optimism was something Dru found almost endearing.

  “Or one of the shitbrains we just talked to was lyin’ through his teeth. You ever work Mermaid?”

  Aleta shook her head as they approached the Dancing Seagull. “No. I started out in Unicorn for half a year, then was in Goblin for a year before going to Dragon.”

  Dru’s eyes widened as he opened the door. “You worked Goblin after only six months?”

  She smiled. “The night shift, too. Which was mostly breaking up brawls—not the use I expected my Shranlaseth training to go toward when I joined.”

  “Yeah, I bet.”

  They took a seat at a booth. “I got transferred after I broke up a brawl in the Ogre’s Breath. I was off-duty at the time, meeting friends for drinks, and some idiot dwarf got into it with a random dumb human.”

  “Yeah, that’s every night at the OB.”

  “I kept the injuries to a minimum, and Sergeant Markon requested my transfer.”

  A figure walked over to them. Dru saw the person’s shadow first, and was about to ask for a drink when he saw that it wasn’t a waiter, but rather another member of the Guard, sporting a green cloak indicating the rank of sergeant.

  Looking up, he smiled. “Hey, Mannit. Sorry, Sergeant Mannit.”

  “Dru. Sorry, Lieutenant Dru. Still can’t believe you outrank me, you stupid shitbrain.” The smile falling from his face, Mannit asked, “How are you holding up?”

  “Some days suck slightly less than others. Oh hey, this is who they saddled me with now that Hawk’s gone. Aleta lothLathna, this is Sergeant Mannit.”

  Aleta smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Sergeant. I’d heard Captain Osric talked you out of retirement.”

  “Yeah, and now they’re tryin’ to talk me back into it. Crazy-ass world.”

  “You two know each other?” Dru asked, not entirely surprised. Mannit was a Guard lifer who knew everybody.

  “She got assigned to Dragon about a month before I got my twenty-five,” Mannit said. “Saved my ass during the Troll Riots.”

  Dru looked upon Aleta with respect. Mannit had only told Dru that a fellow guard saved him from being pummeled by one of the trolls. He had retired shortly after that, only to be pressed back into service just before midsummer when the previous sergeant in charge of Mermaid, Gaffni, had been forced to resign following a scandal. “That was her?”

  Aleta looked away briefly. “Trolls are relatively simple to deal with if you know the trick of it.”

  Mannit chuckled. “Need you to teach me that trick one’a these days.”

  Dru gave the sergeant a sidelong glance. “Who�
��s tryin’a talk you back into retirement?”

  “New lord.” Mannit shrugged. “Offered me a full pension again, even though I already got one. I turned ’em down. Now that I’m committed again, I’m for damn sure committed. So what brings you detectives down to my little corner of Cliff’s End?”

  “Tryin’ t’identify a suspect.” Dru nodded to Aleta.

  She removed the crystal from her pack. Dru had been using it at first, but it took effort to make it function, and after the first four interviews, not to mention all the false alarms in Boneen’s lair, Dru was getting seriously fatigued. So he handed it over to Aleta, who had shown no signs of that fatigue even after twice as many uses of the crystal.

  As soon as Aleta projected the image, Mannit nodded. “I know this shitbrain. Used t’be second mate on the Esmerelda. Was a sailor about ten years back, an’ was second mate up until a year ago. Don’t remember his name, but if you ask Zaile or Forlis, they’ll remember.”

  Dru stared at Aleta, who looked furious. “Didn’t I tell you?”

  Aleta snarled, and Dru actually flinched at the new harshness in her visage. “I need to speak to Forlis again.”

  “When you do,” Mannit said, “mention the unlicensed magick he’s got crated up below decks in the boxes marked as fruit.”

  Now Aleta turned her unpleasant gaze upon Mannit—who, Dru noticed, did not flinch. “If he has contraband on his boat, why haven’t you seized it?”

  “What for?” Mannit pursed his lips. “That shit’s the Brotherhood’s lookout, not mine. I seize it, I gotta deal with wizards for a week jumpin’ through their hoops. No thanks. ’Sides, it’s better t’hold onto somethin’ like that for when you need it—like when you catch ’em lyin’ about a suspect who tried t’kill the king an’ queen.”

  “Good point.” Aleta rose and strode purposefully toward the door.

  “What about lunch?” Dru called out after her.

  Mannit looked down at him. “Last time I saw that look on her face, she was standin’ over a dead troll one minute later.”

  After letting out a long breath, Dru hauled himself to his feet. “All right, but I’d better damn well get lunch after this.”

  He went back out onto the docks, Mannit’s laughter fading behind him as he moved quickly to catch up to Aleta, heading back toward the Esmerelda.

  Forlis was talking with one of his sailors when he noted the approach of the two detectives. “Look, Lieutenants, I done toldja, I ain’t never seen that dwarf before. I got me some business here I gotta be takin’ care of, an’ I can’t be doin’ that if’n you lot’re interruptin’ my day.”

  “Really?” Aleta put a lot of anger into that one word. “Because we have it on good authority that he was second mate on your boat until very recently.”

  The sailor with Forlis said, “What, Gobink?”

  Forlis whipped his hand out as if to backhand the sailor across the face. But Aleta grabbed Forlis’s wrist. She was sufficiently fast that Dru never actually saw her make the move—one moment she was facing Forlis, the next she had his wrist.

  “’Ey!” Forlis cried. “Let go’a me!”

  “I don’t think so, Mr. Forlis. You see, had I not grabbed your wrist just now, Lieutenant Dru and I would have had to add assault to the charges that are piling up against you right now.”

  “Look, I don’t know what you’re on about, Lieutenant, but—”

  Again, Dru saw no actual movement. But suddenly Aleta had twisted Forlis’s arm behind the first mate’s back. The sailor, wisely, chose that moment to run away very fast.

  “Nnnnnnnggggggh!” was the only noise Forlis could manage, his face now contorted into a rictus of pain.

  “First of all, we can charge you with smuggling unlicensed magick in those crates you’ve labeled as fruit. That, by the way, will require you to be questioned, not by me, but by the Brotherhood of Wizards who, if they dislike your answer, are likely to transform you into one of the fruits your manifest claims is in those crates. Second of all, we can charge you with obstructing our investigation into the assassination attempt on the king and queen at Lord Albin’s funeral. The magistrate will likely not be impressed by whatever feeble defense you muster up regarding loyalty to past shipmates.”

  With that, Aleta let go of Forlis’s arm and threw him to the dock.

  Gripping his shoulder as he lay sprawled on the wooden dock, Forlis stared up past his shoulder at Aleta. “For shit’s sake, lady, whyn’tcha tell me this was about the king and queen? Woulda toldja right off.”

  Dru stepped forward, suddenly feeling the need to contribute. “Then start telling, Forlis, or she’ll finish the job an’ rip the arm out.”

  Forlis struggled to his feet. Neither Dru nor Aleta made a move to help him, so he did so slowly and awkwardly. “Look, Gobink was a good sailor. Cap’n was makin’ him second mate for good reason. He was turnin’ us onto some good clients over the years. But then he up an’ quit a year ago for no reason. Didn’t nobody see hide nor hair of him—till a few months back. He showed up on Saptor Isle with a bunch of other folks.”

  “What kinda folks?” Dru asked.

  “’Nother dwarf, ’cept that one was havin’ an eyepatch, an’ two humans, one bare-cheeked, one not.”

  Aleta looked at Dru. “Our other three would-be assassins.”

  Dru nodded and looked back at Forlis. “What’d they do in Saptor?”

  “Booked passage, they did. Paid extra coin for the good bunks, and paid even more coin for folks to be stayin’ quiet. S’why I didn’t tell you before, I got me a heavy money purse thanks to him in exchange for keepin’ my lips tight. But I didn’t know there was no political shit. I ain’t havin’ no truck with that, an’ neither’s the cap’n. That’s just bad for business, that is.”

  “Can you tell us anything else about Gobink?” Aleta asked.

  Forlis finally stopped massaging his shoulder. “Yeah, he got himself a wife an’ three kids up in dwarf country—somewhere in the Zignat Mountains, I think.”

  Aleta looked at Dru, who nodded, grateful that she gave him the consideration. In truth, his own contributions were all but meaningless, which he found annoying. Maybe if I got my damn head into it, I’d be able to keep up.

  “Thank you for your cooperation,” Aleta said, and she and Dru both turned to leave.

  “Hey, that mean you ain’t tellin’ the Brotherhood ’bout the, ah—the fruit?”

  Aleta looked back over her shoulder and smiled sweetly. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

  Dru chuckled. “Nice. Now let’s celebrate by gettin’ lunch.”

  “Shouldn’t we go back to the castle and—”

  “Yeah, we should. After lunch.”

  Aleta hesitated, then gave in. “Fine. Let’s celebrate our break in the case with a break in our fast.”

  “Now you’re gettin’ the hang’a this. Let’s go back t’the Seagull. I wanna see if Mannit’s still there.”

  “To thank him?”

  “That, too.” Dru grinned. “Mostly I wanna hear about the Troll Riots.”

  Aleta chuckled, and Dru was pleased to hear himself chuckle back. He still missed Hawk, and still hated that more people gave a shit about the nobility than his partner. But Aleta was working out nicely, and life did go on. He’d done too many homicides to think any different.

  “Also, you’re buyin’,” Dru added. “That’s what rookies do on their first day, buy lunch for their partners.”

  “Really?” Aleta sounded dubious.

  “Absolutely. It’s a long-standing Guard tradition that I just made up a minute ago.”

  Aleta threw up her hands. “Oh, well, in that case, who am I to stand in the way?”

  Dru laughed. It was the first time he’d truly laughed since Hawk died.

  FIVE

  “What’ve we got?”

  Torin asked the question as he entered the alleyway between the Dog and Duck and Pyrin’s Dry Goods in Dragon Precinct. Three guards from Dragon were alread
y in the alleyway, one standing over a very short body, the other two holding the crowd of onlookers at bay—though there were fewer of the latter than usual, Torin noted. The guard with the body was Jared, to whom he had directed the query.

  Next to him, Manfred chuckled. “That’s usually the question you ask me.”

  “Used to be,” Torin corrected gently.

  Jared chuckled. “Lookit you, Manfred, all pretty in your brown cloak. Looks good on ya.”

  “Thanks, Jared.”

  Then Jared stared down at Manfred’s belt. “What happened t’your sword?”

  Torin smiled. Manfred was currently carrying one of the surplus swords from the castle’s armory.

  In reply, Manfred said, “I dropped my blade off with Molano to have it sharpened.”

  That earned him a snort from Jared. “Whatcher all fancy now, gotta get the elf lady t’make yer blade nice an’ pretty?” Molano was an elven swordmaster, one of the finest in Cliff’s End.

  Manfred chuckled. “Something like that. So what have we got?”

  “Victim’s named Beffel. He’s a halfling who was havin’ a drink at the Dog an’ Duck.”

  “A guest?” Manfred asked. Torin nodded his approval at his asking the right question.

  Shaking his head, Jared said, “Nah, he just likes eatin’ there. Lives in the Swamp, accordin’ t’Olaf.”

  Olaf was the proprietor of the Dog and Duck. Torin noted that, while Beffel was unmoving, he was breathing. He asked, “Have you contacted the M.E.?”

  “And a healer?” Manfred added. “He’s still breathing.”

  Jared chuckled. “Yes t’both of you.”

  Manfred looked back at the crowd that the other two guards were holding back. “Any witnesses?”

  “Nah, nobody saw nothin’. Couple people heard a fight, but by th’time they got out here, Beffel was down onna ground and the folks that beat ’im up were gone.”

  Regarding Torin quizzically, Manfred asked, “Should we talk to those couple of people?”