Brian McClellan - Murder at the Kinnen Hotel

Walis raised his eyebrows. “Oh? What would possibly alarm me?”

“There’s been a row going about the city involving a powder mage. You may have heard about it?”

“That thing from the Yellow Caller ? I thought that was some kind of joke.”

Adamat chuckled into his hand. “Sorry to say, it’s not a joke. The investigation leaked to the Caller somehow, but that’s not important. What’s important is that there’s a small-a very small, I assure you-chance that you’re in danger.”

“How could I possibly be in danger?” Walis’s easy stance had changed. His body had stiffened, his eyes become more cautious. He was listening carefully now.

“We’ve reason to believe that this assassin-this powder mage-is a former pitrunner. He used to work in your mines up north. I’m sorry to be so blunt, sir, but the conditions of the northern coalmines are well known and, to be honest, we’re worried that he may target you or your family for assassination next. He already tried to kill a local businessman and barely missed, killing his mistress instead.”

“I see,” Walis said slowly. His breathing had tightened up. He wasn’t showing it, not much, but he was nervous now. Adamat had him. Now just to lay out the trap.

“We just recommend staying away from any open windows or public places over the next forty-eight hours.”

“Forty-eight hours?” Walis echoed.

“Yes, sir. We’re closing in on the bloke,” Adamat said. “We should have him captured and taken in for questioning within a day or two. Once we do we’ll send someone around to give you the all clear.” Adamat ducked his head. “That’s all we needed. Thank you so much for your time, my lord.”

“Of course. Thank you for the … warning.”

Adamat bowed his way out of the room and took his hat and coat from the butler. White followed him out to the front of the house where he stopped and took a long, shaky breath.

“That,” White said, “was not quite what I was expecting.”

“It was a bit spur of the moment I must admit,” Adamat said. His palms were sweaty, and he dried them on his pant legs.

“I’m not entirely sure what you accomplished there,” White said. “If he’s truly connected to the powder mage, Walis will make the man disappear.”

“I think not,” Adamat answered. He searched his pocket for his pipe before remembering it was back home on the windowsill where he always left it. “And I’m certain he’s connected. Did you see the way we had his attention the moment the powder mage was mentioned?”

“I did,” White admitted.

“Good. Glad I didn’t imagine it.”

White made a vexed sound in the back of her throat. “And why won’t Walis make his pet powder mage go into hiding or just have him killed?”

“Because you don’t up and kill an asset like that. And he’s probably already in hiding. No,” Adamat said, “there are far easier options available to a man like Walis.”

“Like?”

“Well, he’ll check with his second cousin, the commissioner, and find out that we’re on a special assignment for the crown. He’ll panic when he thinks you’re on his trail, and then he’ll do the logical thing.”

White was growing impatient. “Which is?” she demanded.

Adamat adjusted his hat and gripped his cane by the head, walking toward their cab. “He’ll have me killed.”

Adamat and White were together in the Public Archives later that day when four constables arrived with a warrant for Adamat’s arrest.

Adamat noted that a reporter from the Adopest Daily was hanging around the front of the Archives when he was trundled out the door in irons and into the back of a police wagon. He was joined a moment later by one of the constables. He heard an interchange between White and one of the men outside.

“I’m going with him,” White said.

“This isn’t your arrest, love,” the officer said.

“He’s my partner.”

“Not my problem. You can visit him in Sablethorn if you want.”

The arresting constables had not, it seemed, been informed of White’s status. He could practically see the coldness seeping into her eyes as the man spoke just outside the wagon.

“Give me a ride back to the precinct building, then,” White said.

“Fine, fine. But you’ll have to ride inside. Nothing funny from you, hear?”

The door opened and White climbed in to sit beside Adamat.

“Interesting plan of yours,” she said as they began to move.

Adamat glanced at the arresting constable. Someone from the First that he didn’t recognize. Likely someone chosen by the commissioner. “Honestly,” Adamat said, “I’m surprised by their restraint. I expected someone to come and try to stick a knife in my back. Someone who doesn’t know about you. We’d capture them, find out who hired them, then … “ he trailed off with a shrug.

The arrest would complicate things. But what did the commissioner have on Adamat? He hadn’t done anything wrong. White had barely left his side in the last two days.

“And what if they had just had their friend put a bullet through your skull from a thousand yards?” White asked. “Or sent him after your wife? These aren’t the kind of people who play by your rules.”

“My wife,” Adamat said, “is visiting family out of the city for the next few months.” Adamat felt a bead of sweat roll down the center of his back. The former notion was not a pleasant one. It hadn’t even occurred to him. How daft could he be?

“Well,” he said, licking his lips, “looks like they haven’t.”

“Yet,” White responded.

They were taken to the precinct building and immediately up to the second floor, where the commissioner had a spacious office that overlooked the public square. It was easily eight times the size of Captain Hewi’s office and decorated with foreign trophies, maps of the city, and done out with fine ironwood paneling.

Commissioner Aleksandre sat at his desk. Adamat was surprised to find Captain Hewi standing just over the commissioner’s shoulder, hands clasped behind her back. She looked less than pleased. The constables escorted Adamat inside and immediately withdrew. White entered the room a moment later.

“I’m assuming you have a good reason for interrupting our investigation,” White said. She matched Hewi’s attentive stance, looking for all the world like she was in charge of what happened within this room.

Commissioner Aleksandre was not taken in by the performance. “We did, Attaché White,” he said. “We regret to inform you that you’ve been working with this man under false pretences.”

White raised her eyebrows. Adamat took a step forward. “Excuse me?”

“Is this,” Aleksandre said, his eyes moving slowly toward Adamat, “your pocketbook?” he asked.

Adamat looked down to see a brown leather pocketbook resting beneath the commissioner’s thick fingers. SCDA was monogrammed in the upper corner. “It is,” he said. “It was pickpocketed from my jacket sometime yesterday afternoon.”

“Did you report the theft?”

“I hadn’t yet had the chance. I’m not certain this is relevant to our investigation?” Adamat’s mind raced, trying to keep up. Where was the commissioner going with this?

Aleksandre lifted the pocketbook and spread it open with two fingers, holding it forward so that Adamat and White could see the contents. It was fat with what looked like several thousand krana worth of bank notes. Aleksandre plucked a folded piece of paper out from among the bank notes.

“We took this off a pickpocket who was brought in by routine just this morning,” Aleksandre said. “We were surprised to find this much in cash, for a constable like yourself, but even more surprised by this.” He waved the paper in the air. “Do you mind telling me what it is?”