The man’s weathered face drew into a grimace as if a string tightened it from within his skull. “I don’t think you heard me, youngster. Not today, you don’t.” He dipped his pen in the inkwell to tell Clift he was dismissed. “Take a seat, wait your turn, and stop bothering me.”
I stepped up to the desk and deliberately jingled the coins in my money bag. “I think we can reach an agreement.”
The old man’s face tightened even more. “Oh, a bribe. With a harbor full of uncouth and barbaric sailors, no one’s thought to try that yet. My God, you’re brilliant.” He snorted in disgust.
Jane said, “I guess we’ve got no choice.” She turned and went toward the door marked PRIVATE in the same list of tongues. A guard I hadn’t noticed stepped in front to stop her. I didn’t see exactly what she did to him, but it was fast and silent. She caught his unconscious body and lowered him to the floor.
Heads turned toward us. As the old man rose to protest, I tossed a gold coin on his desk. The clink got the attention of just about everyone in the room. I said, “Thanks, pops.” I could imagine how happy the others would be to think the old man let us in ahead of them.
There was a man seated before the harbormaster’s desk, and he jumped up when we appeared. “Dylan!” he cried, and shook the captain’s hand enthusiastically. “At least one other of us has made it to safety.”
“Captain Shaw of the Copper Lance, this is Eddie LaCrosse and Jane Argo,” Clift said.
Shaw stared at Jane. “ The Jane Argo?”
“Definitely a Jane Argo,” she said with a grin.
“It’s an honor to meet you.” He blatantly looked her up and down. “You certainly live up to the tales about you.”
“Ahem,” the harbormaster said. He was a little round man, with leathery skin and a gold hoop in one earlobe. The wooden placard on his desk read HENSE MOLEWORTH, HARBORMASTER. A man whose name and job had the same initials must’ve found the right career. “I hate to interrupt this nautical good fellow society, but may I ask what you people are doing here? You have to wait your turn and-”
“Why are all these ships hiding here?” Clift interrupted.
Moleworth rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “We have a harbor full of unpaid, unwelcome guests who refuse to leave because they believe something supernatural is out there swallowing up ships’ crews. And for all I know, they may be right.”
Clift turned to Shaw. “Is that what you think?”
“I wouldn’t be so dramatic about it, but it’s the damndest thing. These empty ships started turning up six months ago. We found two passenger vessels abandoned, and brought them in. Then five days ago, we came across the Indigo Ray. Totally empty, not a thing out of place. There was even a kettle with a fire still under it.”
“And no indication of what happened?” I asked.
Shaw looked at me. “You’re not a sailor.”
“He’s my charter,” Clift said.
“You’re chartering now?” Shaw asked.
“Only this once. And only for-” He nodded at Jane. “-special circumstances.”
“Well, if you want to get out of here, you better do it before your crew hears about the Ray. Once mine did, they flat-out refused to leave. Even talked about going back on the account if I try to force them. The bunch of yellow flying fish.”
“They’re that scared?” I asked Shaw.
“The Ray was no pussy willow,” he said.
“No,” Clift agreed. “It wasn’t. They had more captures than anyone else last year.” He turned to us. “Come on. Shaw’s right-we’re leaving.”
We left the harbormaster’s office, but we didn’t head back to our wherry. Instead we returned to the quarantined ships and Weston the guard.
“I want to go aboard the Indigo Ray, ” Clift said, softly so that the other guards wouldn’t hear.
“I can’t allow that, Cap’n,” Weston whispered back. “Nothing personal.”
“You said I once gave you a fair shake. That’s all I’m asking from you. We need to go aboard and look around. The authority that told you to keep people off the ship would understand, and would grant me permission, but that would take time we don’t have. We won’t move things around or take anything off. We just need to look.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
Clift reached into his pocket. Weston said stiffly, “I don’t bribe, sir.”
“I’m not going to bribe you. I’m going to show you a piece of parchment. Only you and I will know what it says. If I say it’s permission to investigate the Indigo Ray signed by Queen Remy herself, and you don’t contradict me, who’s to say either of us is lying?”
Clift produced a small rolled parchment, untied it, and held it for Weston’s perusal. The guard looked at it, then at Clift, his face impassive. At last he said, “Very well, Captain Clift.” He turned to his nearest coworker. “Cap’n Clift and his party have permission to go aboard the Indigo Ray. Pass them through.”
“Aye,” said the other guard.
Weston said, “There’s some launches tied at the end of the pier. You’ll have to row yourselves, I’m afraid.”
“I remember how,” Clift said. “Thank you, Mr. Weston. If you ever want to return to the sea, there’s fair work and wage for you on the Red Cow. ”
“Much obliged, Cap’n. It might just happen.”
The Indigo Ray was essentially the same ship as the Red Cow, and searching it did not take long. It was hard to know what to think about it, since it was obvious others had been here before us: chalk outlines showed where various items had rested before being removed. The captain’s cabin was closed off with the yellow ribbon of authority, but we slipped under it and went inside.
The double X was carved on the door, just as Fernelli had described on the Mellow Wine. As the others poked about, I stared at this symbol, struck by something I couldn’t quite pull forward from the back of my mind. It made sense that a criminal would mark the scene of his crime, especially if his future success depended as much on reputation as it did actual prowess. That was why so many pirates had their own flag designs. They wanted potential victims to know who they were.
“The medical box is gone,” Jane said. “Just like on that merchant ship.”
“The logbook’s gone, too,” Clift said. “I’d love to know their last noted position.”
“If there was a pattern, don’t you think the harbormaster would’ve mentioned it?” Jane said.
“You’re getting soft,” Clift said. “You trust quill-pushers now?”
Jane ignored him and joined me to stare at the door. “What do you see?”
“Something,” I said. “Just not sure what yet.”
She leaned close to my ear. “This isn’t our enigma, Eddie. Maybe we should try to find another ship. I know Dylan: he’s going to go after this. He takes any insult to the guild personally, and it’s hard to be more insulting than to leave one of their own ships in this condition.”
“I heard that,” Clift said.
“Stop eavesdropping,” Jane shot back.
“You’re across the room, it’s impossible not to,” Clift replied.
Suddenly the XX image resolved itself. I said, “I’m not so sure this isn’t our mystery, too. Give me your knife.”
Jane took the blade from her belt, and I held it horizontally across the middle of the two X ’s. I asked, “Now what do you see?”
She got it at once. “Ha!” she bellowed in delight.
Clift joined us. “What? I don’t see anything but two X ’s.”
“No,” I said. “With a line dividing them, it becomes a W on top of an M.”
“For Wendell Marteen,” Jane added, still grinning.
Clift stared at the symbol. “Is this,” he said at last, “what you’d consider a ‘clue’?”
“It is. I can’t say for certain that it does stand for Wendell Marteen, but it’s a coincidence if it doesn’t.”
