Owenstall himself joined us, after a while. Bolton made introductions, and laid out the events of the day. Owenstall nodded, seated himself, and let out a heavy sigh.
“I ain’t gonna waste all day on you three road apples,” he began. “I’m going to ask this one time. Who sent you down here, and why?”
He asked it in a quiet voice. He didn’t make a single threat.
He didn’t have to.
Argis and Florint gave Wert a pair of frantic looks. Wert raised his hands in surrender.
“We work for Burnsey Mays,” he said. “And we didn’t mean any disrespect to you. We came to see him.” He jerked a thumb at me. “He doesn’t even live here. We didn’t think-”
“No. You didn’t think. ’Cause if you had thought, you’d have thought ‘Maybe I shouldn’t go making a ruckus in Mr. Owenstall’s neighborhood. Maybe making Mr. Owenstall angry is not a good idea.’ That’s what you would have thought. And you’d have been right. Who is Burnsey Mays?”
Wert mopped sweat. “Mr. Mays owns the Stig River Runners,” he said. “Stig River? They run payroll, mail convoys. Out West. Were big during the War?”
I frowned. Owenstall frowned. His men exchanged what-the-Hell looks.
I said what they were thinking.
“Why would an outfit that guards payroll stages and mail wagons send you three down here to give me fresh bruises?”
Wert gobbled and spat out a series of uhs and wells. Owenstall’s face went dark.
“I ain’t believin’ a word of that.”
For the first time since meeting him, I heard death clear in his voice.
“Wait a minute. Wait a damned minute!” It was Argis, the youngest of the three, who spoke.
“I was willing to risk my job over this foolishness, Wert, but I am not going to get killed over it.”
“Shut up,” growled Wert. “They’re bluffing.”
“Like Hell they are. Burnsey Mays didn’t send us anywhere. Yeah, we work for him, but he’s got no idea we’re here. It was his daughter what put us up to this, and I told you it was a fool thing to do.”
Owenstall gave me the smallest of nods.
“What’s her name?” I asked before Wert could speak. “The daughter. Her name.”
Argis faced me. “Natalie. Natalie Mays. She rounded us up this morning and showed us that waybill you plastered all around town. Said for us to find you and see what you knew and then…and then beat you ’til you didn’t care to poke around anymore.”
Owenstall grinned. “You know this Mays woman, finder?”
“Not yet,” I said. “Now, Argis. Why would your boss’s daughter send you down here to ruin my day? What have I ever done to her?”
The one named Florint saw the lay of the land and decided to chime in, lest he be numbered with the fish bait when pardons were being handed out.
“She didn’t talk like she knew you. She just showed us the waybill, said to find you.”
The waybill.
“Any of you boys know a Marris Sellway?”
Blank looks and shakes from Argis and Florint. Stupid defiance from Wert.
“That’s very helpful, gentlemen. Very helpful indeed. So. I’m in a generous mood. I might even be willing to intercede on your behalf with Mr. Owenstall here.” I turned to face the grinning force behind Law and Order on Regency Avenue.
“What say you, sir? Shall we spare these miserable urchins their lives, or feed a few of the Brown’s less discriminating catfish?”
Owenstall shrugged. “I’ll let that be up to you, finder. As long as you mention all this to Mama.”
“Deal,” I said. “I wonder if I might ask one small favor of you?”
“Ask.”
“Let’s say you’ve got a nice, sturdy room somewhere. A room without windows. A room that muffles shouts for help, screams of agony, pleas for mercy, that sort of thing.”
Owenstall pretended to ponder this. “I might.”
“Would it be too much to ask to have these three worthies deposited therein, for, say, two full days? Just as guests, mind you. Fed once a day. Food served with tea.”
Instant protests arose from the three worthies, but Bolton showed his knife again, and they fell into a defeated silence.
“Two full days? I think we can do that. Bolton. See to it.”
And that was that. Bolton led them out, and soon Owenstall and I were alone.
“You are a source of vexation for many, finder,” offered Owenstall.
“Nature of the business.”
He nodded. “This ought to make us even, you think?”
“More than even. Way I see it, I’m in your debt now, and then some.”
That’s always the right answer, when you’re speaking to a man who can impart life or death on a word and whim.
We parted friends. I hurried out, looking for a cab. It was time I made the acquaintance of Natalie Mays.
Chapter Four
I took a cab down to Rannit’s shiny new business district and hopped out in the middle of Arson Street. I knew it was named for a War hero, but I looked up at all the tall, new buildings and hoped nobody took the name as a suggestion rather than an homage.
I’d heard of the Stig River Runners. They’d made a name for themselves during the War, and they’d maintained it throughout the peace. I guess getting stagecoaches from Rannit to the depths of the Frontier was basically the same enterprise whether you were fending off Troll raiding parties or gangs of bandits on stolen Army horses.
I had no idea where their offices might be. I had no idea whether this Natalie Mays would be anywhere near her father’s office. I had basically no idea what I was going to say even if I found her.
Sometimes you just have to let the situation determine these trivial details. And I did have three items I could at least try to use as leverage. I hoped they were enjoying the hospitality of Owenstall’s windowless room.
All that badmouthing the outlands do about Rannit being filled with stuck-up city folk is nonsense. I found any number of passersby eager to help a stranger find Stig River’s main office.
I whistled. The building was ten stories tall. There was apparently more money to be made guarding stagecoaches than I’d ever imagined.
The doors were huge blood-oak slabs done up in carvings that featured riders and stages and the crossed whip and sword sigil of the Stig River Runners. Inside was a big marble floor and a desk the size of a small house and an honest-to-angels babbling brook that made soothing, bubbling liquid noises all through the place.
There was a woman seated behind the desk. She was tiny and blonde and smiling a practiced, professional smile. She didn’t let it dim or waver just because it was aimed at the likes of me.
I smiled back. The babbling brook made happy noises, so I spoke over them.
“Good afternoon,” I said. “I know I’m coming at a bad time, but it’s important that I speak to Natalie, right away.”
The blonde’s smile vanished. My heart skipped a beat.
“Oh no. Is this about the floral arrangements? Don’t tell me they’re really out of blue fireflowers.”
I nodded gravely. “They say they may be able to get some in time, but they won’t be royal blue-more an azure. Oh, and there’s a problem with the seating too. Could you help-”
I didn’t have to finish, which is a good thing, because I’d run out of lies to spin. But it had worked-the blonde raised a finger, yanked at something, and then raised a speaking tube to her lips and spoke urgently into it.
