The Golden City

the house into the water.”

“Why not just surround the boat and arrest them all?” Carvalho asked impatiently.

Anjos sighed wearily and rubbed one temple. “Because while they have your daughter on their ship—or, frankly, within rifle range—she’s a hostage. If we try to arrest them, they will threaten to kill her outright. An impasse.”

Silva nodded sagely. “You’ll have to let the ship—it’s a medium-sized yacht with a crane affixed to the deck, by the way, painted dark blue—slip away first, I’m afraid.”

“You’ve seen it?” Inspector Tavares asked.

“I had a source on the inside,” Silva said with a wicked smile. “The selkie they hired to attach the chains to weights on the riverbed. Astounding how easy it is to buy a selkie’s loyalty. A few fish and a girl to bed and they’re most cooperative. Unfortunately he seems to have changed loyalty again, so I’ve had to find other sources.”

Oriana expected Mr. Ferreira was clenching his fists. Pinheiro rolled his eyes.

Anjos ignored the commentary, though, likely irritating Silva terribly. “Inspector Tavares, what grade of chain did you say they used?” Inspector Tavares supplied a number that meant nothing to Oriana. Anjos clearly understood it, though. “Good,” he said. “That’s not too large. We wait for them to drop the house in the water. As soon as the ship has pulled away far enough, we cut the chain. The main obstacle is getting a diver with bolt cutters into position without him being seen.”

“I can row close in a dory,” Mr. Ferreira volunteered.

“And I will cut the chain,” Oriana added, and was gratified when Mr. Ferreira refrained from protesting her involvement. She wasn’t going to let the threat of capture stop her from doing this.

“And how do you manage that without being seen?” Captain Pinheiro asked.

“Discreetly,” Mr. Ferreira said. “If they come before the moon rises, they won’t be able to see much. It’s far enough from the city that we won’t have any ambient light to contend with, and out of the way of river traffic. We just sit on the water, no lanterns, and wait for them to come to us. I might be able to find a selkie or two willing to give chase afterward.”

“Why bother?” Carvalho asked.

“If we stop them tonight,” Mr. Ferreira said patiently, “they’ll know it’s over. They’ll start preparing to flee. We have to find the workshop where they’re assembling the houses before they get a chance to destroy all the evidence.”

“Maraval won’t be there, even if the yacht is his,” Silva inserted. “He lets Captain Rios do most of his dirty work.”

Oriana wondered whether they were actually going to take Silva at his word—that Maraval was to blame and the prince knew nothing of what was being done in his name. Or were they going to put Silva under guard, as he’d suggested when he’d walked into the room? She wished she could see Mr. Ferreira’s face to judge his reaction. Then Anjos tilted his head to peer up at Silva.

Of course! Anjos was a Truthsayer. He could weigh Silva’s veracity.

Apparently Anjos believed him. “Leave Maraval to us,” Anjos said. “It’s well known that you have a long- running adversarial relationship with the man. Carvalho, do you have a room secure enough to keep Silva locked up?”

Carvalho made some growling noises that Oriana took for assent.

“Promise that you won’t even try to escape,” Pinheiro said, arms crossed over his chest.

“My dear boy,” Silva said smoothly, “how can you think . . . ?”

“Promise,” Pinheiro insisted.

“I give my solemn word,” Silva said with a half bow in the captain’s direction.

As the afternoon crept on, the police officers began to break down the new undertaking into tasks, finding boats, finding appropriate tools. Oriana listened, trying to remember where each person would be. Evidently the Lady couldn’t join them, as being on water made her ill, but Gaspar would be in the patrol boat. They might be able to keep other patrol boats at bay. Carvalho insisted on being on the water as well, which Oriana didn’t think would be helpful. Carvalho bellowed at them all until they agreed.

“I’ll keep the rowboat behind the patrol boat until the yacht closes in,” Mr. Ferreira said, “then row close enough to dive in.”

Oriana lifted her eyes to meet his. Was he going to try to cut her out of the action? “For me to dive in.”

“You don’t need to do that, Miss Paredes,” Inspector Tavares inserted quickly.

“I do,” she insisted. It would be full circle for her, back into the death-laden waters near The City Under the Sea.

“I was counting on your company,” Mr. Ferreira told her.

Thank the gods she didn’t have to argue about this. She was the best choice for working under the water, but there was more to it than that. She hadn’t been able to save Isabel. She was going to do whatever was needed now to save the Carvalho girl. It was her chance for redemption.

CHAPTER 29

Duilio needed a favor, and he suspected he was going to have to pay for it. As they were leaving the house, he asked Miss Paredes to wait for him in the hallway. Carvalho had already stormed out, dragging Silva along with him. Anjos had taken his crew of approved Special Police off in search of a patrol boat to commandeer, which left Duilio more or less alone, save for Miss Paredes and Captain Pinheiro, who was to escort them safely back to the house.

After a moment’s consideration of the room, Duilio settled on the curtains . . . or, rather, the tiebacks. They were thick braids, burgundy shot with gold, each end capped with a tassel almost a foot long. He carefully picked one in a corner of the room and liberated the braid from its hook, allowing the drapery to fall loose. There was no way to stuff it in a pocket, so he coiled it up and tucked it inside his coat against his body. Perhaps the staff would be too busy to notice.

“What are you doing?” a soft voice asked from the doorway.

Duilio sighed inwardly. It was Genoveva Carvalho. He pulled the coil from under his coat and walked to where she stood. He could see Miss Paredes and Captain Pinheiro watching from farther down the hallway. “I need to make a trade, Miss Carvalho, and don’t have time to stop by my own home to find something suitable. Your father can send me the draper’s bill.”

She nodded and stood to one side of the doorway to let him pass. He moved to join the others, but she laid one hand on his arm. “Thank you for going after them,” she said. “This is my fault. I let Constancia fall back to talk to Tiago. I shouldn’t have, but they’re friends, and he’s too kind to take advantage of her naivete. Please . . . bring her back.”

Duilio patted her hand. “We will do our best, Miss Carvalho. I promise.”

Her hand slid off his arm, and he hurried to join the other two. Miss Paredes gave him a strange look, but said nothing about the encounter. A few minutes later they were all in the captain’s carriage again, heading in the direction of the Bicalho quay.

Duilio figured Pinheiro had never met a sereia before, but the man seemed unfazed by the revelation of Miss Paredes’ identity. “So, what will happen to Silva?” he asked Pinheiro cautiously.

Pinheiro sighed. “He’ll probably get several fine meals out of this, have a nice nap, and gather a lot of gossip to spread about. I’m sure he’ll come out of this smelling like springtime.”

Duilio almost laughed at Pinheiro’s vexed tone.

“Do you know Silva well?” Miss Paredes asked the policeman.

“I didn’t tell her,” Duilio inserted quickly.

“Ah,” Pinheiro said. “I have the distinction of being his son, although he wasn’t aware of that until about three years ago, when my mother died.” He crossed himself at the mention of his mother’s death.

“I’m so sorry,” Miss Paredes said politely.

“That makes Captain Pinheiro my cousin,” Duilio told her. “And it puts a different complexion on the theft at