“Let's talk about your cousin. The one who didn't disappear the way people
think.”
Shed's stomach knotted. He concealed his distress. “I don't understand.”
“Suppose somebody saw what happened?” “Come into the kitchen.”
Shed's visitor peeped back through the kitchen door. “Thought the split-tail
might try to listen in.” Then he gave Shed an accurate account of Wally's death.
“Where did you get that fairy tale?” “I saw it.”
“In a pipe dream, maybe.”
“You're cooler than I heard. Here's the way it goes, friend. I have a trick
memory. Sometimes I forget. Depends on how I'm treated.”
“Ah. I begin to see the light. This is about hush money.” “There you go.”
Shed's thoughts scurried like frightened mice. He couldn't afford hush money. He
had to find another way out. But he couldn't do anything right now. He was too
confused. He needed time to get himself together.
“How much?”
“A leva a week would buy a first-class case of amnesia.”
Shed goggled. He sputtered. He choked back his protest. The extortionist made a
what-can-I-do? gesture. “I have problems too. I got expenses. A leva a week. Or
take your chances.”The black castle flickered through Shed's thoughts. Low
cunning grabbed it, turned it over, looked at the possibilities. Murder did not
bother him anymore. But not now. Not here. “How do I pay you?”
The man grinned. “Just hand me a leva.”Shed brought his coin box into the
kitchen. “You'll have to take copper. I don't have any silver.” The man's smile
grew broader. He was pleased. Why?
The man left. Shed said, "Lisa, I have a job for you. Worth a bonus. Follow that
man. Find out where he goes.“ He gave her five gersh. ”Another five when you get
back, if it's worth it. “Lisa zipped out in a whirl of skirts. ”He wandered
around a lot,“ Lisa reported. ”Like he was killing time. Then he headed down by
the Sailmakers'. To see that one-eyed moneylender.''
“Gilbert?”
“Yeah. Gilbert.”
“Thank you,” Shed said thoughtfully. “Thanks a bunch. That casts light on the
problem.”
“Five gersh worth?”
“Sure. You're a good girl.” He made a suggestive offer as he counted.
“I don't need money that bad, Mr. Shed.”
He retreated to his kitchen, began preparing supper. So Gilbert was behind the
extortionist. Did Gilbert want him financially pressed? Why?
The Lily. Why else? The renovations made the place that much more attractive a
steal.
So. Assume Gilbert was opening a campaign to snatch the Lily. He had to fight.
But this time nobody could help him. He was on his own.
Three days later Shed visited an acquaintance who operated on the nether edge of
the Buskin. For a consideration he received a name. He visited the man attached,
and left him with two pieces of silver.
Back at the Lily, he asked Lisa to tell her favorite customers that Gilbert was
trying to force them out by spreading lies and making threats. He wanted the
Magistrate suspicious of accusations leveled against him later.
The morning of the next payoff, Shed told Lisa, “I'll be gone all day. Anybody
comes looking for me, tell them to come back after supper.”
“The man I followed?”
“Him especially.”
At first Shed just roamed, killing time. His nerve worsened with time. Something
would go wrong. Gilbert would come back rough. . . . But he wouldn't dare, would
he? That would tarnish his reputation. Shed's rumors had him on the defensive
now. People would make their loans elsewhere if he pressed.
Shed found himself a woman. She cost too much, but she made him forget. For a
while. He returned to the Lily at sunset. “He came by?” he asked Lisa.
"Be back, too. He looked put out. I don't think he's going to be nice, Mr.
Shed."
“That's the way it goes. I'll be out back working on the woodpile.” Shed glanced
at a customer he'd never before seen. The man nodded, departed through the front
door.
Shed chopped wood by lanternlight. Now and again he searched the shadows, saw
nothing. He prayed nothing would go wrong.
The extortionist stormed out the kitchen doorway. "You trying to duck me, Shed?
You know what happens if you mess with me?"
“Duck you? What do you mean? I'm right here.”
"You weren't this afternoon. Now that girl of yours gives me a hard way to go,
trying to steer me away. I like to had to pound her before she'd tell me where
you were."
Very creative. Shed wondered how much Lisa suspected. “Save the dramatics. You
want your money. I want your ugly face away from my place. Let's get on with
it.”
The extortionist looked puzzled. “You talking tough? They told me you were the
biggest coward in the Buskin.”
“Who told you? You working for somebody? This not a freelance play?” The man's
eyes narrowed as he realized his mistake.
Shed produced a handful of copper. He counted, counted, counted again, put a few
coins away. “Hold out your hands.”
The extortionist extended cupped hands.
Shed had not expected it to be this easy. He dumped the coins, grabbed the man's
wrists.
“Hey! What the hell?”
A hand clamped over the man's mouth. A face appeared over his shoulder, mouth
stretched in a grimace of effort. The extortionist rose to his toes, arching
backward. His eyes widened in fear and pain, then rolled up. He slumped forward.
“All right. Perfect. Get out of here,” Shed said.
Hastening footsteps faded quickly.
Shed dragged the body into shadow, quickly covered it with wood scraps, then
dropped to hands and knees and began collecting coins. He found all but two.
“What are you doing, Mr. Shed?”
He jumped. “What're you doing?”
“I came to see if you were all right.”
“I'm fine. We had an argument. He knocked some coins out of my hand. I can't
find them all.”
“Need help?”
“Mind the counter, girl. Or they'll steal us blind.”
“Oh. Sure.” She ducked back inside.
Shed gave it up a few minutes later. He would search again tomorrow.
He got antsy waiting for closing time. Lisa was too curious. He was afraid she
would look for the missing coins and find the body. He did not want her
disappearance on his conscience, too.
Two minutes after he closed, he was out his back door and heading for his wagon
and team.
The tall being was back on duty. He paid Shed thirty pieces of silver. As he was
maneuvering to leave, though, the thing demanded, “Why do you come so seldom?”
“I'm not as skilled as my partner.”
“What has become of him? We have missed him.”
“He's out of town.”
Shed could have sworn he heard the thing chuckle as he went out the gate.
JUNIPER: RUNNING SCARED
A long time had passed and nothing had happened. The Taken were not pleased.
Neither was Elmo. He dragged me into his quarters. “Were the hell did Raven
go,Croaker?”
“I don't know,” I told him. As if he were the only one disturbed. I was scared
and getting more so by the day. “I want to know. Soon.”
“Look, man. Goblin's done everything but torture people trying to pick up his
trail. He flat vanished. He got wind of us somehow.”
“How? Will you tell me how? We've been here half our lives, it seems like. And
nobody else down there has noticed. Why should Raven be any different?”
“Because we were around looking for him. He must have spotted one of us.”
“If he did, I want to know that. You hike on down there and light a fire under
Goblin's ass. Hear?”
“Right. Whatever you say, boss.” Though he commanded the advance party,
technically I outranked Elmo. But I was not about to press for prerogatives at
the moment. There was too much tension in the air.
There was stress throughout Duretile, and I did not understand most of it. I
remained on the periphery of the Taken's study of the black castle. Just another
messenger boy, a foot-slogger bringing in data from the city. I hadn't the
slightest notion what they had discovered by direct examination. Or even if they
were studying the castle directly. They could be lying back, afraid they would
alert the Dominator to their presence.
One of the men located me in Elmo's quarters. “Whisper wants you, Croaker.”
I jumped a foot. Guilty conscience. “What for?” I had not seen her for weeks.
“You'll have to go see. She didn't say.” He sneered, hoping he would see an
officer in the soup. He figured I was in trouble.
He figured that; so did I. I dawdled as much as I dared, but eventually had to
present myself. Whisper glared at me as i entered. "You people haven't found a
damned thing down there. What are you doing? Dogging it? Taking a vacation?
Well, say something.“ ”I. . . ."
"Do you know the black castle stopped growing after our raid on the Crater
group? No? Why not? You're supposed to be finding out these things.“ ”None of
the prisoners accounted for the. ...“ ”I know that. I know none of them knew who
the main body supplier was. But that supplier must have known them. He packed
up. There have been just two bodies delivered since. The latest just last night.
Why didn't you know that? Why have you got people in the Buskin? They seem
incapable of learning anything."
Oh, she was in a mood. I said, “Is the deadline close or something? The way I
understood it, we wouldn't be in trouble if only a few bodies were delivered.”
“True. As far as it goes. But we've reached a point where a handful might make
all the difference.”
I bit my lower lip, tried to look properly chastised, and waited.
She told me: “The Lady is pressing. She's very nervous. She wants something to
happen up here.”
So. As always, the shit rolls downhill. The normal course would be for me to go
out and tromp on somebody below me.
"Half the problem is, we don't know what's going on.
If you claim you know what the castle is, how it's growing and so forth, how
come you don't go over and kick it down? Or turn it into grape preserves or
something?''
“It's not that simple.”
It never is. I tend to overlook political ramifications. I am not politically
minded.
“Maybe once the rest of your company gets here. The city will have to be
controlled. The Duke and his incompetents couldn't manage that.”
I stood there looking expectant. Sometimes that will con people into telling you
more than they plan.
“The city will go up in flames if it's not buttoned up tight when the truth
comes out. Why do you think the Custodians are so determined to keep the
Catacombs thing hushed? Several thousand citizens have relatives who went into
that monstrosity. That's a lot of people who'll get very irate about the souls
of loved ones being lost.”
“I see.” I did a little. It took a certain willing suspension of reason, though.
“We're going at this from a different angle,” she told me. "I'm taking charge of
your investigations. Report to me daily. I'll decide what you're going to do,
and how.
Understand?"
“Yes, ma'am.” Only too well. It was going to get that much more difficult to
keep her and Raven apart.
“The first thing you'll do is set a watch on the castle. And if that doesn't
shake something loose, I'll send Feather down there. Understand?”
“Yes, ma'am.” Again, only too well.
I wondered if Whisper suspected we were working at cross-purposes.
“You can leave. I'll expect you back tomorrow. With something to report.” "Yes,
ma'am."
I went straight back to Elmo, fuming. He should have faced her, not me. Just
because I'd sort of taken over.
I was with Elmo barely long enough to tell him what had happened when a
messenger came from Bullock. He wanted to see me right away.
Bullock was another problem. I'd become convinced he was smarter than he put on,
and was almost as sure that he suspected we were up to more than we admitted.
I eased into his cubicle in the secret police headquarters. “What's up?”
“I've made a little headway on the Catacombs raid. Result of pure stubborn
footwork.”
“Well?” I felt pretty curt about then, and he raised an eyebrow. “Just had a
face-to-face with my boss,” I told him, which was as near an apology as I cared
to come. “What have you got?”
“A name.”
I waited. Like Elmo, Bullock liked to be coaxed. I was in no mood to play that
game.
"I followed up your notion about rented wagons. Turned up the name Asa. A
wood-gatherer named Asa was, probably, working through the hole I showed you. A
man named Asa spent a number of old coins, but before the raid on the Catacombs.
A man named Asa worked for Krage before he and his men disappeared. Everywhere I
go, it's Asa-this or Asa-that."
“Anything to connect him with the black castle?”
“No. I don't think he's a principal in anything. But he must know something.”
I thought back. Bullock had mentioned this name once before, referring to a man
who hung around the same place as Raven. Maybe there was a connection. Maybe I
ought to find this Asa before anybody else did.
“I'm headed down to the Buskin,” I said. “Direct orders from her holiness. I'll
have Goblin round the guy up.”
Bullock scowled. There had been some ill will when he found out that we had put
men into the Buskin without consulting him. “AH right. But don't play any more
fast shuffle with me, eh? Your people and mine aren't after the same things, but
that's no reason to undermine each other, eh?”
“You're right. We're just used to doing things different. I'll see you when I
get back.”
“I'd appredate that.” He eyed me in a way that.said he did not trust me anymore.
If ever he had. I left thinking the Company and I were into it deep. Trouble on
every hand. Juggling with too many balls in the air. Only we were juggling
knives with poisoned edges.