word, though individually mangled, could be understood from context.
I sat. Singe remained standing. There were no suitable chairs. Neither did she shed her coat, which was psychological warfare directed at the niece. The blonde adjusted her position after I settled.
“Now, then, Mr. Garrett. The Rock Truck, Rose Purple, visited you today. He was, without doubt, a fount of fabrication. He will have laid his own crimes off on others.”
Rock was my client, in his own mind. I volunteered nothing.
“So. Very well, then, sir. Very well. Eliza and I have come to your marvelous city to reclaim a precious relic.”
“The Shadow.”
“Indeed. Exactly. The Rose Purple did not misinform you completely, then. Remarkable. Yes. The Shadow. Of negligible intrinsic worth, it nevertheless has substantial moral value among folk of a certain sort. We are here, at the behest of the Venageti Crown, to recover the royal property.” She studied me from narrowed, piggy eyes, vast and truly ugly. “That would not be a problem, would it, sir? You won’t judge me simply for being Venageti?”
“No. We won the war.”
“Excellent. Excellent. I endured my own sorrows during those bleak seasons, I assure you. As did we all. Well, sir. Can I count upon you, then?”
I frowned. That didn’t make sense. I confessed, “I don’t get what you’re asking.”
“In the spirit of the new friendship between our peoples, you will return the Shadow to me, the Hand of Begbeg.”
All Venageti rulers have Beg in their name. The one who quit fighting called himself Begbeg, which means King of Kings or King of the World.
“I don’t have your doohickey. I don’t know where it is. I don’t know what it is. I wouldn’t recognize it if it bit me on the ankle. And I don’t much care.”
“Sir!”
“I do know that somebody tried to bust into my place, somebody else made him dead, and one of those somebodies got dead himself, later on. Cutie-pie there watched everything from across the street. You probably know more than I do.”
“But Recide brought you a box.”
“He did? Singe, did you see a box?”
“I did not.” She was distracted. Beyond Miss Grünstrasse’s pong, the suite was replete with unusual odors.
“Really, Mr. Garrett. You dissemble. Eliza saw the box.”
I looked at the blonde, as still and perfect as ornamental porcelain. Had she, indeed? Unlikely. Why say so, then? “She has magic eyes, she could see inside my place from where she was standing.”
“You waste your time trying to provoke her.”
Little bits was not my target.
Someone thumped the door with grand enthusiasm.
BUNNY LED THE DINNER DELIVERY. HE WAS IN A BLACK MOOD. HIS PRINCIPAL assistants were a boy and girl in their early teens. Penny was the girl. The boy, presumably Bottle, was more damned dangerously good- looking than she had hinted. He was blessed with way too damned much self-confidence, too.
Two more staffers brought folding tables, one at which to dine and another whence the kids could serve.
A sad old frail who might be Bunny’s mate bustled in. “Found it!” She unfolded a chair designed to fit someone equipped with a tail.
The crew set four places atop clean linen. Eliza sat down but did not seem pleased.
We ate, mostly in silence, duck and some other stuff, none of it memorable. Neither was the wine, though it was a TunFaire Gold. Singe was the only one who knew what to do with the arsenal of tools.
Eliza ate just enough to claim participation. She never spoke. Her eyes were not shy, however.
Finally, over the bones, Miss Grünstrasse observed, “I will miss the food here. So. Mr. Garrett. You hope to gain some advantage from holding out on the Shadow. How can I change your mind?”
“You can’t. I don’t have the damned thing.”
The woman laughed. Tremors surged through her flab. “Very well, then. Very well. What will it take to encourage you to find it?”
“I don’t know what to look for. But Rock offered four thousand silver nobles for it.”
Miss Grünstrasse began to quake all over. “The Rose Purple? Four thousand? That prince of liars! That latest in an endless procession of thieves! He will abscond on his account, wherever he is staying.”
Odd thing to say. Silence followed. Eliza seemed especially interested.
Miss Grünstrasse changed approach. “You have barely touched your wine, Mr. Garrett. Is there a problem? The publican assured me that it is the finest vintage TunFaire offers.”
“He would be correct, too, but I’m a beer snob.” The modern obsession with spoiled grape juice is inexplicable. As someone once observed, beer is proof that the gods don’t always get off on tormenting us.
“Beer, sir? I understand that TunFaire is famed for the variety and quality of its brews. Have you a favorite?”
Why not be difficult? “Weider Wheat with a blackberry finish.”
“Eliza, see what Squattle has available.”
The blonde inclined her head, rose, and left the suite as though driven by clockwork. I asked, “What’s the story with her? Is she even human?”
“Oh, yes. She is, sir. Yes, indeed. Just quite serious. My niece. My intern, as well. Completing her elementary training. A remarkable child. Brilliant beyond her years. She will become one of the greats.” Aside, “What is this, girl?”
Penny had set a plate in front of her. “A pumpkin spice turnover, ma’am. Specialty of the Benbow.” She served me and Singe. Bottle followed with a cloth bag from which he squeezed a rum-based syrup.
Penny asked, “Should we ready one for the young miss, ma’am?”
Miss Grünstrasse was disgruntled. She was not accustomed to being a common “ma’am.” “Keep it in the warmer. She may not want it. She doesn’t eat many sweets.”
I asked about Ryzna, Venageta, and the Shadow. Miss Grünstrasse evaded or tried to sell me on the sheer marvel of helping reclaim her missing gimcrack.
“Do we have an understanding, Mr. Garrett?”
“I haven’t heard a word about potential benefits to me and mine. Other than this fine dinner.”
She was not pleased. That was not the response that was her due. “Very well, sir. Very well. I do have to remember that I am outside that realm where my wishes have the weight of law. Very well. Bring me the Shadow and I will pay you an eight-hundred-noble finder’s fee.” She raised a hand to forestall the remark she expected. “Genuine Full Harbor trade nobles, not the fairy gold of the Rose Purple’s will-o’-the-wisp promise.”
I remained unconvinced. I looked unconvinced.
“Come with me, then, sir. Come with me.” She got up, beckoned like someone Eliza’s age eager to show a friend a secret.
I followed reluctantly, and got more reluctant when she headed into an unlighted bedroom. A light did come up momentarily, though. I glanced back. Boy, girl, and ratwoman looked puzzled but alert.
“Come along, Mr. Garrett. I promise not to test your virtue.”
She had a sense of humor?
I relaxed a little.
“Do close the door, though. In case my niece returns. I would rather she remained unaware of this.”
“Does she speak or understand Karentine?” Lacking a knowledge of the language might explain her disinterest in communication.
“Not that I am aware of, sir. But the child is full of surprises. Lend a hand, will you?”
She wanted a trunk dragged out from under the unmade bed. The bedding smelled like Miss Grünstrasse, only worse. I couldn’t help wondering if she wasn’t suffering from something malignant.
We swung the trunk onto the bed. She said, “Step away while I work the combination.”
