'Oh? Was it Vercleese uth Rothgaard, my deputy?' Gerard asked, falling into step with the dwarf.
Stonegate shrugged, wincing at the discomfort that caused to his injured arm. 'Humans are hard to tell apart, forgive me for saying so. Except for Lady Windlass, I cannot distinguish one of you from another.'
His words were meant kindly, but his manner remained indifferent. Privately, Gerard thought all dwarves looked alike, too. But clearly, this Stonegate viewed all humans with scorn. Gerard resolved, later, to learn all he could about the dwarf, and whether he might have had anything to do with causing the accident and the death of Salamon Beach.
Stonegate led Gerard to the base of the scaffolding, where the workmen now stood milling about, waiting to resume their tasks. Gerard was surprised to see Blair standing by the scaffolding rather than Vercleese. The sergeant nodded to Gerard in greeting and indicated one of the main struts, where the rope lashing that had secured part of the structure now hung in pieces. 'I wanted you to see this, sir,' he said in a low voice, indicating the segments of rope.
Gerard stepped closer. He expected to see the rope frayed from whatever wear and tear had caused it to break. Instead, he saw the clean edges of a careful cut, each strand neatly severed.
'Looks like it wasn't an accident,' he said.
'My thoughts exactly,' said Blair. 'Someone did this deliberately. The question is who and why did it collapse just when it did-when Salamon Beach was standing underneath the structure?'
'You think he might have been targeted?'
Blair gave him a faintly contemptuous look. 'Don't you?'
Gerard refrained from telling the sergeant just what he thought, although he intended to upbraid him on a more private occasion, letting him know that his impertinent tone was not appreciated and would not be tolerated. 'Did anyone witness the accident?'
'A couple of the workmen noticed two rough-looking men they hadn't seen before hanging around shortly before the collapse occurred. One of the men he described as having a thick, coppery mustache and a prominent scar down the left side of his face. No one saw where the pair went or even when they left. They seem to have vanished in the commotion.'
Gerard raised an eyebrow. The descriptions matched those of Odila's strangers who had assaulted Salamon Beach a few nights before. Their confrontation must have been more serious than the architect let on-serious enough, perhaps, to get him killed. Gerard nodded. He'd have to see whether anyone else in town could identify these two men. 'Well done, Sergeant,' he said, clapping Blair on the shoulder. The sergeant shrugged, as though to say it was all in a day's work.
Vercleese arrived just then, and Gerard showed him the rope and filled him in on the 'accident,' including what Odila had told him about the incident a few nights earlier. Right after that, Palin hurried up to the group, and Gerard explained everything all over again.
Meanwhile, Stonegate stood impatiently to one side, huffing and snorting, clearly anxious to get work started up again and resentful of the humans' wasting of time. The death of his former boss seemed to matter less to him than putting the whole project back on schedule. Finally, Gerard turned to the dwarf. 'All right, we're through here for now. But I expect you to inform me if you come across anything else suspicious or see anyone loitering about whom you don't recognize. Is that understood?'
Stonegate hesitated.
'Lady Odila would want you to cooperate in this,' Gerard added.
'Oh, well, in that case, of course I'll let you know immediately,' the dwarf said, bowing his head before the mere thought of the lady who evidently held him in thrall. Then Gerard and the others walked slowly back to the area where the injured had been grouped.
'So we have another possible murder,' Palin said quietly to Gerard. 'Do you think it could be related to the death of Sheriff Joyner?'
Gerard scratched his chin. That thought had occurred to him as well. 'It does seem unlikely there would be two such unusual murders so close together in time, unless there was some connection,' he said cautiously, 'although the methods used in the two cases were very dissimilar. Until we get more information on this latest killing, however, we can't know for sure.'
Kaleen and Odila were waiting for them where the injured were being treated. Odila looked more her usual self, the color having returned to her face, but Kaleen was beginning to show the strain of having been exposed to injury and death. Gerard thought that she herself could do with one of the mugs of tarbean tea that she had been distributing to the victims.
Only a couple of the injured workmen remained, most having returned to their jobs with minor cuts and scrapes, Odila explained. A few had been taken by Argyle Hulsey to her shop in town for additional treatment. 'And she wants to see Salamon's body as soon as we can bring it to her,' she continued. 'She wants to examine it more closely than she was able to do here.'
A crashing noise caused Gerard to spin around nervously, but evidently it was only the controlled demolition of the damaged scaffolding, which now lay in a heap beside the temple wall. Dust from the crash swirled about the men who stood there, to one side. When the dust cleared sufficiently, they swarmed about the ruined woodwork, dismantling it and salvaging any useable timber. Stonegate was back in his element, now that the petty disruption of death and injury was over with. He was barking orders and consulting the rolled pages with drawings of the project.
When Gerard turned back to the conversation, Odila and Kaleen were engaged in some kind of mild argument. 'What's the matter?' he asked, trying to play peacemaker.
'She wants to take Salamon's body to Mistress Hulsey,' Odila explained. 'But I want her to go home and get some rest.'
Gerard looked at Kaleen, who swayed a little where she stood, she was so obviously exhausted. 'Let her accompany the body back into town,' he said. 'But only on condition that she go home and get some rest afterward.' Odila frowned but nodded.
'I'll go with her,' Blair said quickly. 'Just to make sure she gets home all right.'
'No, I'll go with her,' Gerard said firmly, earning a hostile look from Blair. 'I want to hear what the healer says, and I want you and Vercleese to see what you can find out about these two men who assaulted Salamon the other night. Circulate their description, find out if they're still in town, and bring them in for questioning.'
'But-' Blair began.
Gerard cocked an eyebrow at him, squinting fiercely. 'Yes, sir,' Blair said, his voice sulky and his face in a scowl.
'I'll join you at Argyle Hulsey's shop,' Palin said as Gerard turned to leave. 'There are a few things I need to do here first in order to reassure everyone that we are in control of the situation.'
'Are we in control of the situation?' Gerard asked only half jokingly.
Palin shrugged. 'People will want to think we are, at any rate. It's my job to calm their fears.'
Gerard nodded, offered Kaleen his arm for support, and ushered her to the wagon where the body of Salamon Beach was laid out. The whole time, he was uncomfortably aware of Blair's furious stare following the two of them as they walked away. Only when the wagon was bumping and swaying on its way to town, with the two of them safely aboard, did he begin to relax.
Eventually, he and the surly sergeant were going to have to have a confrontation.
Meanwhile Usha had taken a break from working on Odila's portrait.
The house needed cleaning, and that took an hour or so. Then she cut some flowers and placed them in a vase on the table. Afterward, she felt she really must get some bread dough mixed. When the dough had been kneaded and placed in cloth-covered pans to rise, Usha washed the flour from her hands and looked about for some further distraction. There was nothing else to do. Everything was now in its place. The house was spotless. All was as it should be.
Usha frowned.
At last, she walked resolutely into her studio, where she mixed her paints and gathered her brushes. Only when all was ready did she remove the protective cloth that always hung in front of one of her paintings in progress.
And froze.
The half-seen images that had been there previously were gone at last. But in their place was a far worse
