Carris liked dogs, even Mr. Tibbles. Carris disliked the sound of bugles. Carris knew ten words of Ogre. Carris was once struck by a Watchman’s truncheon after he punched the Watchman for making a lewd comment about Tamar, and he’d spent a night in the Old Ruth for the pleasure.
I was beginning to like this Carris.
But I was no closer to finding him. He’d said nothing about a trip, business or otherwise, before he’d vanished. The last time Tamar saw Carris had been a dinner date, at which they’d talked wedding plans and decided to fire a caterer and had enjoyed roast beef that was a little too chewy. Then they’d lingered on the porch of the Fields home, said their farewells and made plans to meet for lunch the next day.
Tamar swore Carris hadn’t been bothered, or worried, or distant. She had no inkling anything was wrong until he missed their lunch date.
That had been two days shy of two weeks ago.
Tamar had gone to the Lethways, and had been told by a butler that Carris was called away on urgent business, and no, the master of the house was not able to receive visitors, and no he couldn’t divulge any details, certainly not.
And that had been that. Tamar’s conversation with the Watch had been equally fruitless. Which didn’t much surprise me, since the Lethways clearly outnumbered the Fields in butlers and money. The Watch is careful with whom they dispense their justice.
I left Tamar with a promise I would start looking at once. I’d been elated when she hadn’t asked me where I planned to start looking, because as I walked back toward Cambrit I wasn’t entirely sure.
The obvious destination was the Lethway house. But if the Lethways had been willing to stonewall their only son’s lady love, I doubted they’d be any more receptive to a finder wandering in off the street.
The late afternoon sun left the bustling street half in cool shadows. People were smiling and laughing. Even the Watchmen failed to scowl and bellow. I should have been enjoying the walk, but my legs grew heavier with every step and I could hardly keep my mouth shut from yawning.
I’d started my day by being attacked by Sprangs. I’d taken a ride in the Corpsemaster’s black carriage. Sweated under a sun that didn’t feel like mine. Slept some forced hex-borne sleep. Hell, I’d been drafted into the Army.
I decided my work ethic could take the afternoon off. No point in trying to dazzle the Lethways with my verbal charms when the best I could muster was a puzzled yawn.
I wished I’d asked the dead cabman to hang around. The walk back to Cambrit was going to be a hike. But the cabs in this part of town would charge extra just for visiting my humble neighborhood, and I’d tipped the Fields too generously to allow myself that luxury.
So I walked, hands in pockets, hat turned down. People gave me room. When I’m grumpy, it shows.
I tried to keep my mind off all things Army. Tried to forget sleeping in tents, fighting in the rain, freezing every night and going hungry every day. I’d thought that was over and done.
I kicked at a loose cobblestone, had a brief, terrible vision of Rannit’s walls coming down, of that foul- smelling cannon smoke sailing ghostlike down its streets, heard people screaming, flames roaring.
I was so preoccupied I didn’t even notice the cab rattle to a halt on the street beside me.
“Boss?”
I shook off my vision. It was Gertriss, in a plain brown hat, leaning out of the window, smiling.
“Boss, where have you been? I’ve been looking all over.”
“Lunch with the Regent. The man never shuts up. Nice cab. Room for two?”
The door swung open. I clambered inside, barely getting my butt on the bench before the cabman snapped his reins and the cab lurched ahead.
“Boss, you look awful.”
“We’ve got to work on your flattery skills.” I took off my hat and rubbed my eyes. “Did you catch Smithy with his lady of the afternoon?”
Gertriss looked anything but awful. Since giving up her career as a swineherder and settling in Rannit, she’s made an amazing transformation. Blonde hair, green eyes, trim figure-I’m always surprised she’s able to go unnoticed in a crowd like she does.
“I’m afraid so. She’s not the lady from the bank, either. It’s his wife’s younger sister.”
I grimaced. “You’re sure?”
“They took a room at the hotel. I took the next one. The walls are thin. I’m sure.”
Rannit rolled past my window, happy and unfaithful and well fed and warm.
“Hell of a way to make a living.”
“Boss, what’s wrong? And where have you been? You’re filthy. Where did you find red dust?”
I followed Gertriss’s gaze down to my shoes and my knees. Both were dusty, with that strange red earth from the Battery.
“Never mind that right now. Have you been home yet? Talked to Mama?”
Her eyes flashed. “No. Why? Something happen?”
“The Sprangs happened. All the way from Pot Lockney. Showed up at the office early this morning, looking for you.”
She went pale, licked her lips, measured her words.
“Oh no. Boss, I’m sorry. Were they rude?”
“You could say that. But don’t worry. I’m sure their manners are much improved. They’ll be spending some time in the Old Ruth for assaulting one of Rannit’s most beloved citizens.”
“Assaulted? They went after you? Why would they do that?”
“It seems Mama has been her usual helpful self. She let word get back to Pot Lockney that you and I share more than just an office.”
Gertriss reddened.
I waved it off. “Look. What’s done is done. You had nothing to do with it. The Sprangs are locked up. We have plenty of time to figure out what to do with them when they get off the work crew. If you cry you’ll ruin that mascara. Anyway, it could be worse.”
“Worse? Boss, you don’t know them like I do. If they think you and I…if they, um…what could be worse?”
I put my hat back on. “Not the time or the place, Miss. Tell me about the errant Mr. Smithy. That’s an order.”
I put my head back and suffered the bumps and didn’t listen to a single word Gertriss said.
Chapter Five
I fell asleep again halfway back to Cambrit. Gertriss says I dreamed, and they must have been troubling dreams, because I clenched my fists and mumbled. If she caught any of the words she had the good grace to pretend otherwise.
I stumbled out onto the sidewalk while Gertriss counted coins. The cabman made a pass at her, which she ignored, and when I saw he meant to repeat it, I glared and he snapped his reins and took his leave.
I had just enough time to thank my errant guardian Angel that Mama wasn’t outside on her stoop waiting for us when Mama flew out of her door and stomped toward us, her grizzled old face set into a wrinkled scowl that would have turned Trolls, had any been lingering nearby. She had Buttercup by the hand, and though the tiny banshee tried to resist Mama’s pulling, she was dragged along anyway, blinking in the light, her false wings sagging and drooping.
I ushered Gertriss inside and said the magic word-beer.
I have an icebox in the back now. It’s a tiny one, barely big enough to hold a chunk of sawdust-covered ice and eight tall, dark glasses of Biltot’s best, but it will keep them chilled for a week.
“Boss? Now?”
“Two. One for me, one for you. If Mama doesn’t like that, tough. Go. I’m in a mood.”
Gertriss went, vanishing about the time Mama came stomping through my door.
