Star Risk - 02 Scoundrel Worlds (25 page)

"No," Glenn said. "My brother happened to be a bit of an anarchist, and the DIB picked him up and worked him over very thoroughly. He still walks with a limp, and his mind wanders.

"No," he said again. "All this was my pleasure. Now, if I could only live to see L'Pellerin rotting in chains; and this building, and the goons it houses, destroyed; and the land, perhaps, sown with salt." He caught himself, and became the smooth politician once more.

"If you would hold on for a moment, Chas," von Baldur said, making sure the operations room door was secure, "I think it is time for a caucus of our own."

"I always like to get a little drunk every time somebody springs me from jail," Goodnight said. "Especially when it's a secret policeman's jail." But, obediently, he replaced the decanter on the sideboard.

"I would like everyone's tentative opinions as to who you think the real traitor might be," von Baldur said. "Chas?"

"I still don't know where that damned Caranis gets his money from," Goodnight said. "Otherwise, just out of general piss-off, I'd vote for that goddamned L'Pellerin, not being a fan of dungeons and such.

"It would've been easy for Caranis to know about the Belfort defense plans, and to pay that idiot mail-boy to swipe them for him. I go for Caranis."

"But what about Kismayu's murder?" King asked. "We've agreed he probably isn't the sort to play assassin."

Goodnight made a face.

"Jasmine's right," Riss said. "We know there's at least some DIB men in the Masked Ones� or maybe the other way around. And those idiots wouldn't mind a little wet work, even if poison's a little neater than their crowd-control methods.

"I see a hole in our work," Riss said. "We don't really know squat about the Masked Ones. Maybe I should do a little investigating on those idiots."

"Let me remind all of you," von Baldur went on, "that starship that tried to hijack Sufyerd obviously knew of his sickness and that he was to be taken groundside, which means someone else who was privy to the basic military code at the very least. This person� or group� also knew enough about the medical ship to use its call letters."

"Caranis, maybe," King said. "L'Pellerin could also be the one. Or some other high-ranker that we haven't uncovered yet."

"Good," von Baldur approved. "Thank you for keeping the options open. Let me add another spice to our stew that you might have forgotten. L'Pellerin told me at that dinner we had that, once Sufyerd was convicted, all his operatives were removed from the operation.

"Yet there were operators, many of them, dogging both the late Elder Bracken's Jilanis church and the Sufyerd family. When M'chel attempted to extract them, the military was instantly involved in an attempt to stop her, and either recover or kill Sufyerd's family.

"Possibly Caranis could still be our villain, although I question whether he has the necessary clout to keep that many soldiers on standby.

"Even more to the point, could Caranis, after the operation's failure, be able to completely suppress any reports of what happened, including the names of the casualties, of which there were more than a few?"

"L'Pellerin definitely could do that," Grok said. "Or someone very, very high-ranking. I don't think ex-Premier Ladier is our traitor, even though he is proven to be close to the Torguth. Very seldom does a successful politician get that close to the action."

"Yet another interesting piece of information," von Baldur said. "This from Ladier's letters. When he wondered about Sufyerd's guilt, who reassured him but Mr. L'Pellerin. That I find quite interesting by itself. Either the head of DIB is a cocky fool or� or something else."

"I'll vote for L'Pellerin," Riss said. "It's real easy for me to get pissed at some asshole who wants to pull my fingernails out."

"I have a question," King said. "Assuming, for the sake of argument, that L'Pellerin is the traitor, why? He's got as much, probably more power, than anybody else in the Dampier Systems, scandals in his files that are enough to keep from getting thrown out, and is behind the scenes enough to be almost assassination-free. Why is he risking everything?"

"There's a story I read once, about a guy who was the head secret cop for some dictator," Riss said. "All he wanted was to be made� I don't remember what� a star marshal or a nobleman or something that would give him a public triumph. The dictator turned him down, shocked as all hell, saying that secret policemen never get made noblemen or have parades in their honor.

"According to the story, that crushed this guy, so much so that he tried to betray his boss the first chance he got. Maybe something like that happened to L'Pellerin."

King considered. "Or maybe," she said finally, "it's something as simple as people who want power never, ever can get enough. But what could Torguth be offering him?"

Riss shook her head. "I dunno."

"Let's continue with our straw vote. I, too, pick L'Pellerin," von Baldur said. "Although we should not forget Caranis. Chas, would you devote considerable energies to investigating him?"

"Cheerfully," Goodnight said. "Now, can I have a drink?"

"You may," von Baldur said.

"The problem," King said, "assuming our theorizing is correct, and L'Pellerin is the traitor, is that we will now be proving that the head of the secret police is a double agent. And, by the way, I'm going to reserve my vote for the moment."

"It shall be a task," von Baldur admitted. "Mr. Goodnight, would you pour me a dram? Perhaps alcohol will lubricate my few remaining brain cells."

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FORTY-SEVEN � ^ � Things are going quite well indeed," Fra Diavolo said. "First�and I'm sorry, M'chel, to sound unsentimental about poor Sufyerd's continuing problem�is that we have toppled Ladier and the Universalists. Or, more correctly, Ladier committed political suicide. The only people who should save their letters are the innocent. If there is any such animal.

"Then we have a Torguth traitor within Ha exposed and murdered by his own people.

"And, in your eyes most importantly, Maen Sufyerd is freed and with his family. When circumstances are right, we shall arrange for another trial, an honest one this time.

"The only thing I find displeasing are the Torguth mobs on the Belfort Worlds, obviously trying to stir things up, and Torguth itself, which also seems to be flexing its muscles toward a fourth confrontation with Dampier. But there appears little I can do about that at the moment.

"I am having a perfectly lovely time with my pamphleteering, hoping to guarantee that the Universalists don't stand a chance of being returned to office, although, to be honest, I'm not that convinced that Reynard and his Independents are much better�although, at least, they don't appear to be in bed with Torguth.

"Star Risk may not have been directly responsible for all this, but you surely have acted as a catalyst."

"I thank you, sir," Riss said, lifting her wineglass. She still didn't entirely trust Diavolo, but had at least downgraded him from rou�o old, gentlemanly rou�"You� and your people� have been of great help."

"And I would suspect," Diavolo said, smiling slightly, "that you've come out to my estate for more than a dinner."

"Correct."

"Let me ask what you need, before we start contemplating the meal. Tonight we are having a seafood salad, sweetbreads, and a torte, with cheeses and the appropriate wines. I would rather not be worrying about whether I'm going to be able to provide what you need, and think about my digestive system."

"I need a former Masked One," Riss said. "One who'll talk� or one I can make talk. By preference, someone who's blown out of the organization in a decent state of piss-off."

"Oh my," Diavolo said mournfully. "You don't ask for the easy things, do you?"

"If I wanted something easy," Riss said, "I wouldn't need to come to you."

"Flatterer."

Chas Goodnight eased into the mansion, looking most pleased with himself.

"Did you finally find someone who'll listen to your wily ways?" Jasmine King asked.

"Nope," Goodnight said. "I've been doing good deeds."

"Such as?"

"Visiting our next-door neighbor, who's a wonderful little old lady. I spent the afternoon listening to her talk about the old days, when there weren't all these horrid politicians and good homemade bread was a tenth of a credit a loaf.

"Naturally, I didn't believe her for a minute. She never bought a loaf of bread in her life, but sent the servants round."

"But you stayed with her," Grok said, peering around a corner. "Because you found out she doesn't have a will."

"You've been around too many cynics too long," Goodnight said. "Actually, I was apologizing to her for the loud bangs we've had go off around here, even though they're hardly our fault.

"She didn't mind them at all. Said it made life a little more interesting, which is all you can ask for when you're her age."

"That was the only reason you went to talk to her?" King asked suspiciously.

"Of course," Goodnight said carelessly. "There might have been two or three other items we touched on, but hardly anything of importance."

Grok and King exchanged utterly unbelieving looks.

It took almost two weeks to find an appropriate Masked One, which didn't surprise Riss. Someone who'd left or been thrown out of the Masked Ones would most likely be lying very low, afraid of retribution not only from the citizenry, but from his former fellows.

The one Diavolo's scurrying minions located ran a small store on one of Montrois's islands, and reluctantly agreed to talk to the person Diavolo sent. Riss took Grok along for backup.

The weather was cold, misty, and the buildings on the island were gray, forbidding, and wet.

The storekeeper was small, but wiry-muscled. He said his name was Givoi, and turned a closed sign on the deserted store's entrance. Then he ushered them into a back room, frequently giving Grok's immensity a frightened look.

M'chel didn't know what had convinced the man to talk to her, but from his behavior, suspected it was blackmail rather than a bribe or a desire to unburden his conscience. Riss hadn't seen many people in the Dampier System who seemed overly troubled by conscience.

"I really won't be able to tell you much," Givoi said. "I was just a lowly member� what they called a believer."

"Sit down," M'chel said, in a friendly voice, indicating one of the two chairs in the room. Givoi obeyed.

"Why did you become a member of the Masked Ones?" Grok asked, truly curious.

Givoi was silent for a time, then reluctantly said, "I've always been a patriot, believing in my system, but that men are weak, and should be ruled by a stronger man."

"Who, for the Masked Ones, would be�?" Riss asked.

He shook his head. "I wasn't told that sort of thing. None of us on my level were. Orders came from the Council, and we never saw any of them or heard from them directly, either. Orders came to our cell leaders."

"Could the Council have been one man� or woman?"

"No," Givoi said. He stopped himself, thought. "Well, I can't say for certain, but I can't believe that."

"But you don't know," Riss said. "So you joined the Masked Ones just out of your ideals?"

She stared straight into Givoi's eyes. He started to answer, then stopped.

"No," he said, looking down. "Or, rather, that was just one of my reasons."

Riss waited.

"When you're a nobody� like I was� I guess, like I am, you want to have some kind of power. I wasn't anything but a clerk in a big grocery, and so, when a friend of mine started talking about the Masked Ones, well, that was something that called out to me.

"To have a secret, to know that you, and your friends, can be out there, on the streets, actually trying to change things, trying to make a better society� that was like nothing else I'd felt."

"You weren't married, or with a partner?" Grok asked.

Givoi shook his head. "I've never had the time for women."

"Tell me about the structure of the Masked Ones."

Givoi needed frequent prodding, but talked. The Masked Ones were organized into operating cells. Some of these cells had a common headquarters, but the members of one cell wouldn't know someone from another cell except by face.

"They said it was good for our morale to get together, just before an operation, so we wouldn't feel alone. They were right."

Members would get instructions about the next operation at these meetings, or directly by com in the event of a sudden crisis. They would be told what to do, and the extent of violence they were permitted.

"After a year," Givoi said proudly, "they trusted me with a gun. Although," and his voice showed disappointment, "I was never ordered to use it. But I carried it on half a dozen of our operations, in the event of an emergency."

"You always backed the Universalists," Riss said.

"Almost always."

"You said you were patriotic. But why would you support the Universalists, since Premier Ladier always talked about peace, and now he's been proven to be in league with Torguth."

"That's a lie! The media made all that up!"

"Calm down," M'chel said. "What goals did you Masked Ones have? You couldn't think that your whole lives would be spent beating people up."

"Of course not," Givoi said. "Eventually, we were told, we'd have a chance to reach real power. We weren't told exactly how that'd happen. I thought maybe we'd bore from within, take over the Universalists, and then seize the government. But�"

"But what?" Riss asked.

"It just seemed to go on, always the same, for the five years I was a member. I got arrested twice, and that cost me my job, and I lived on the dole, plus what my cell leader would give me to help with my expenses.

"Then an aunt of mine died, and left me this store, and an apartment down the street, and I thought maybe it was time for me to leave Tuletia anyway. Really, I can't tell you what you seem to be looking for."

"What about the names of your cell leader, anybody else who might know more than you do?" Riss asked.