The Autumn Republic (41 page)

A
damat accompanied Police Commissioner Hewi and six officers to arrest Lady Cheris.

Hers was a beautiful manor on the outskirts of the Routs in Adopest, not far from Ondraus the Reeve’s home. It stood three stories tall and overlooked one of the largest private gardens in the city. Adamat waited in the foyer, allowing the cool autumn air to blow over him from the open door while a pair of constables spoke with the butler.

“This is most unusual,” the butler said, raising his voice. “Lady Cheris is an upstanding member of society and will not be treated like a common criminal.”

Commissioner Hewi cleared her throat, interrupting a response from one of her constables. “My good man, I am the commissioner of the Adran police force. My presence here clearly indicates that Lady Cheris is a most uncommon criminal. Now, tell me where she is, or you’ll spend the next six months in Sablethorn.”

The butler looked as if he would protest further, but a glance at the stone-faced constables seemed to convince him otherwise. He appeared to deflate. “She’s in the sitting room. But Commissioner, she has guests. Surely this could wait for another time.”

Hewi moved the man to one side with her cane and strode past him. Adamat followed.

A constable opened the door to the sitting room and Hewi walked in as if she owned the home. Two men sat in armchairs by the windows, while the two sofas were occupied by four women, one of whom was Lady Cheris. Their conversation stopped midstride and they all looked in surprise at Commissioner Hewi, while Adamat stood in the corner with his hat in one hand.

This particular arrest was one that he had no interest in doing himself. Everything, including Ricard’s own word, indicated that Lady Cheris would be as hard to pin down as an eel.

“Commissioner Hewi!” Lady Cheris said, standing. “I wasn’t expecting you today. May I introduce Lord Elmore of the Novi National Bank? I believe you know everyone else in the room.”

“Charmed, Lord Elmore. Lady Cheris. Would you like to do this here, or see your guests out first?”

Cheris’s face clouded and she blinked rapidly. “Whatever could you mean?”

Adamat cleared his throat and glanced significantly at the constables guarding the door, though he knew Cheris was only playing the fool.

“Ah.” Cheris swallowed hard. “Lord Elmore. My friends. Would you be willing to resume this conversation tomorrow?”

The gentlemen and ladies all stood and Lord Elmore shook Cheris’s hand while casting dark glances at the commissioner. “Of course. Please let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.” They filed out the door and Adamat listened to be sure they had left the house. Once they were gone, Lady Cheris dropped onto one of the sofas.

“What is this all about, Hewi?” she asked.

“That’s ‘Commissioner,’ my lady. And please remain standing. You are under arrest for the attempted murder of Ricard Tumblar. We can dispense with the wrist irons, I think, as long as you’ll come along willingly.”

Cheris’s nostrils flared. “Attempted murder? I nearly died in that bombing! What are you talking about?”

“We have strong reason to believe you masterminded the bombing of the headquarters of the Holy Warriors of Labor.”

Stronger reason than even Hewi would let on, Adamat reflected. Denni of Rhodigas had confessed in front of Commissioner Hewi’s Knacked – the one who could determine a liar upon hearing. Lady Cheris had personally hired him for the job.

“Me? My arm was broken by a falling beam!” Cheris waggled the elbow of the arm she still held in a sling. “You have a damned lot of gall to accuse me of such things.”

Hewi sighed. “We have ample evidence, my lady.”

“Evidence? What evidence? There’s nothing at all to tie me to such a crime! I was about to have dinner with Ricard tonight. Do you think I’d dine with a man I tried to kill? You, sir. Inspector Adamat, wasn’t it? You’re friends with Ricard. Does he think I’ve done such a thing?”

Adamat glanced at Hewi, who gave him the most imperceptible of nods. “He does, madam. As do I.”

Cheris stood up straight. “I demand that you tell me the evidence you claim you hold against me.”

Adamat scoffed. Surely she didn’t think they would?

“I can’t do that, my lady,” Hewi said.

“Can’t? Or won’t? Because you don’t have a damned thing. If you did, you would tell me. I know what condition the courts are in. Even with my connections, it’ll be two weeks before I can get in front of a magistrate. Until that time I’ll be rotting in Sablethorn with the gutter rats, my reputation in shambles and my —”

“We have the word of Denni of Rhodigas that you paid him to acquire blasting oil from the Flerring Chemical Company,” Hewi said, her lip curled in disgust, “And to arrange for the bombing of the headquarters of the Holy Warriors of Labor.”

“That lying cretin? Hah! As if I’d have anything to do with him. I hope you have something better than that.”

“Transfer of funds amounting to one hundred and twenty-thousand krana from your personal account to an account belonging to Denni of Rhodigas,” Adamat cut in. “We’ve already arrested and questioned your personal banker.”

Cheris’s mouth hung open for a moment, then she said quietly, “Those accounts are not open to government purview, nor are they admissible in court.”

“They are now,” Adamat said. “The law was passed a month ago. For the head of the bankers’ union, I’m surprised you weren’t aware of that. Commissioner?”

Hewi oversaw the arrest as Cheris was led out the side door by one of his constables and put into an unmarked police carriage. Adamat waited beside the carriage for the commissioner to join him. “Thank you for coming, ma’am,” he said to Hewi.

“No, thank you, Inspector. If I had a thousand more officers prowling the city right now, I’d still be short. My people couldn’t possibly have tracked all of this down. You really are one of the best.”

“That’s good of you to say, ma’am. And that law I mentioned…”

“It should be on the books by now. Backdated, of course. Not something I’d normally do, but after running Denni past our lie-Knack we have to cover our evidence.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You sure you want to ride with her?” Hewi asked.

“Yes. It’s best I question her in private.”

“Nothing official can come out of it.”

“Of course. For my own personal peace of mind.”

Adamat said farewell to the commissioner and climbed into the carriage, where Cheris sat looking out the opposite window. Her façade of a baffled, outraged businesswoman had dropped to leave behind someone who looked tired and vaguely annoyed. The carriage began to move and Adamat took several minutes to examine her before he spoke.

“Why?” Adamat asked.

Cheris glanced over as if noticing his presence in the carriage for the first time. “Because Ricard’s an idiot,” she said. “And you can tell him I said so. He’s a visionary, for certain, and that does give him something extra. But he’s a fool and he’ll be a terrible First Minister.”

“So you admit it?”

“Sounds like you already know the truth, so I might as well.” She sighed. “My resources have been stretched thin, Inspector. Having to rely on people like Denni makes my stomach turn. And you better believe that my banker will never work anywhere in the Nine again in his life.”

“You think you’ll still have that kind of power after this comes out?”

“My involvement will be forgotten in a year. Denni will go to the guillotine and I’ll pay a heavy fine and lose my position in the union, but I’ll climb back on top.”

“And make your enemies suffer, I suppose?”

“I’m not normally a murderer, Inspector. I don’t kill or maim unless I’m running out of options. But yes, I’ll make them suffer. I’ll destroy reputations if it suits me. You should know that if you’ve been investigating me.”

Adamat’s investigation had been a whirlwind that lasted only half a dozen hours between the time he took Denni in and the time he arrived at Cheris’s door. He grunted a reply.

“In fact,” Cheris added, “I’m amazed you’d allow me the knowledge of your involvement.”

“I’ve dealt with worse.” Adamat felt a bit of doubt in the back of his mind and wondered if this had been a good idea. Perhaps the commissioner’s warning had held some meaning Adamat had missed. Nothing indicated that Cheris was the kind of monster that Vetas had been, but perhaps he should have taken precautions.

A knowing smile appeared at the corner of Cheris’s mouth. Adamat narrowed his eyes, wondering if Cheris knew about Lord Vetas. Perhaps she did. With her relationship with Ricard, it was not out of the realm of possibility.

They rode into Elections Square and watched the black spike of Sablethorn Prison grow larger over their heads. The prison was full of dissidents and particularly loud royalists, but the guards had made room in one of the nicer cells for Cheris. Ricard had insisted upon that, though Adamat didn’t know the reason. Sentiment, perhaps?

Cheris was escorted from the carriage. Adamat stepped out, wondering if he would now need to extend the length of SouSmith’s contract, and watched her be led toward Sablethorn’s doors. Cheris turned suddenly and looked back, throwing him a menacing smile.

“Have a good few weeks, Inspector. I’ll see you soon.”

The residence of Adro’s former Arch-Diocel of the Kresimir Church, Charlemund, seemed bleak and bare.

Adamat remembered his first visit to the grounds. The vineyards had been full of workers, while horses practiced on the racetrack. It had been a sickening display of wealth, but Adamat almost preferred that pomposity to the overgrown hedges, deep grass, empty orchards, and cold, lifeless façade of the immense manor.

The only occupants of the manor were the dozen watchmen the city had assigned to keep looters and squatters at bay until the government got the chance to divide up Charlemund’s wealth. His library would go to the university and Public Archives. His art collections would be sold off to private collectors or donated to the city museum. The building itself might be bought up by a wealthy merchant – Adamat had even heard Ricard express interest – or perhaps torn down and the stone recycled to help in the rebuilding of the city center.

“What you looking for?” SouSmith asked.

Adamat smoothed the front of his jacket. “I’m trying to find out what kind of man doesn’t leave a shadow,” he said.

Adamat showed his papers at a temporary guardhouse a few hundred yards from the manor and was waved on. At the front door, he remembered his second visit to the manor: during the battle in which Tamas fought and captured Charlemund. The burned-out remnants of a carriage still lay beside the gravel drive, and there were still muddy furrows where Privileged sorcery had dug up the ground.

At the front door another pair of watchmen lounged on the stoop, a game of dice between them. They stood as Adamat left his carriage and approached, with SouSmith behind him.

“They said that you would have a key,” Adamat said.

“Right. We do,” one of the watchmen said. She was a young woman, no more than twenty-five, and she held a musket and wore the light blues of the city police. “Papers?”

Adamat presented his papers once more. “Did I see smoke coming from one of the chimneys?”

“Probably,” the second watchman said, rubbing a thumb under the rim of his hat. He was an older fellow with gray in his mustache.

“I didn’t know the manor was occupied.”

“The state employs a few of the former staff in order to keep the building tidy until they can get around to selling it,” the first watchman replied, handing Adamat back his papers. “Don’t worry about them, they stay out of sight. The library is in the south wing, all the way at the end. Head inside, past the first staircase, and take a left. That hall dead-ends in the library.”

“Thank you very much,” Adamat said. He waited for them to unlock the door and then slipped inside, followed by SouSmith.

The foyer still held evidence of the fight that had taken place there many months previous. Someone had tidied up the mess Adamat remembered, but there was no hiding the chips in the marble from bullets, nor the empty pillar where a bust of Charlemund had once stood.

SouSmith paused and gave a low whistle. “One man lived here?”

Adamat had forgotten that SouSmith had never been allowed inside on their previous visit together. “Kind of off-putting, isn’t it?”

SouSmith ran his thick thumb over a chip in the marble banister. “Nah. Should have gone into the clergy.”

They left the foyer and followed the watchman’s directions toward the library.

“You said Charlemund escaped,” SouSmith asked.

“That’s what Ricard told me.”

“Think he could be here?”

“What? In hiding?”

“Yeah.”

“They’ve got watchmen and servants. He couldn’t go unnoticed.”

SouSmith stopped suddenly and looked up and down the hallway. It was over two hundred yards long, the ceilings twenty feet high, and had no less than thirty doors. He cocked an eyebrow at Adamat.

“Okay, it’s big,” Adamat conceded. “But Charlemund is… well… you’ve met him. He’s used to command. To luxury. I don’t think he could ‘hide’ anywhere if his life depended on it. My best guess is he’s already fled to Kez or Novi or someplace farther. We’ll hear about him sooner rather than later.”