Макс Фрай - The Stranger

Captain Giatta did not in the least resemble a dull-witted fanatic. He also had no likeness to a dyed-in-the-wool criminal, though who knows what a dyed-in-the-wool criminal is supposed to look like. The captain had sad, tired eyes, and he pronounced the word “die” almost dreamily.

Sir Kofa sent me a call, Be on your guard, Max. I wouldn’t want to kill him, but... you can see for yourself that this fellow is a bit shady.

Then Kofa turned to the captain again.

“Well, I understand that an order’s an order. In that case you’ll just have to take a ride with us in the amobiler. I hope your boss has no objections to that?”

“No,” Captain Giatta said uncertainly, but with evident relief. “There was no mention of that. So I won’t refuse.”

“Excellent. Command your subordinates to guard the ship, and you’ll have a clear conscience.”

The captain went to give the orders, and I looked at Sir Kofa in some confusion.

“Is this normal behavior for Tasherians, Kofa?”

“Of course not. The chap is bewitched, it’s as clear as day. But there’s an aura of White Magic of only the fourth degree emanating from him, and that’s perfectly legal. Juffin will figure him out, you’ll see. That will be interesting for you, too.”

“And the ship?”

“Never mind the ship. I’ve already sent a call to the House by the Bridge. Lonli-Lokli and a dozen policemen will be here in half an hour. They’re the best team for a first-rate search. Here comes our brave captain now. We’re lucky, all the same, that he decided to come with us,” Kofa whispered as our new companion returned.

“I’m at your service, gentlemen,” Captain Giatta said with dignified bow.

The captain stared out the window in rapture the whole way. He seemed completely unfazed that he was under arrest and was being transported to the House by the Bridge; rather, he was thoroughly enjoying the sightseeing excursion. I shared his enthusiasm: Echo really is a dazzlingly city. I should have grown used to it, but I was still awestruck by its beauty.

Meanwhile, big changes were underway at the House by the Bridge. The Hall of Common Labor was deserted. The cooks had been abandoned to the whims of fate for the time being. Neither Melamori nor Melifaro were anywhere to be seen. They were probably running around chasing after the tantalizing loose ends of secrets, which are abundant in every respectably good-sized mystery. Sir Juffin Hully greeted us practically licking his chops and staring at Captain Giatta like a hungry cat eyeing a bowl of cream.

At first the interrogation seemed improbably dull to me. In his questioning, Juffin zeroed in on some details concerning the technicalities of the ship’s rigging, the commercial practices of the captain’s boss, and the biographies of all the crew members. Mr. Giatta calmly answered some of the questions, and resolutely refused to answer others—questions that seemed completely innocuous to me. Sir Juffin greeted this obstinacy with perfect serenity.

“So you say that your assistant, what’s his name—ah, yes, Mr. Xakka. He used to be employed on vessels of the Unified Kingdom? That’s very interesting, Captain,” Juffin said. “Very interesting, indeed.”

Suddenly the handsome captain rolled his eyes and collapsed on the floor like a sack of potatoes. Juffin wiped the sweat off his brow wearily.

“He’s a tough one. Real tough. And scared to death. I was hardly able to pacify him,” said Juffin. He sighed and continued as though he were delivering a lecture. “You must be very careful with a bewitched man, Max. I could put a strong spell on the captain, but we don’t yet know what exactly they’ve done to him. You know, the combination of spells sometimes leads to unpredictable results. When I was a young and foolish deputy sheriff in the city of Kettari, I came across a bewitched lady once in the line of duty. She was behaving like she was possessed, and I had to practice some sorcery just to save my own skin. This happened far from Echo. The magic in the provinces is far more primitive than we’re used to here. No one expected any surprises. But then my suspect screeched and exploded into pieces. I was absolutely stunned, and my boss, the old sheriff of Kettari, had to devote many days and nights to returning me to my senses.”

Juffin smiled dreamily, as though it were the most pleasant memory of his entire youth.

“So what have you done to him? Was it hypnosis?”

“I have no idea what you mean by ‘hypnosis.’ I just pacified him. Very effectively. Our captain has never been so tranquil, Magicians’ honor! Now we can take that ghastly tunic off him.”

As was to be expected, Captain Giatta’s black garment concealed a valuable belt, an exact replica of the one we had seen yesterday.

“This is a serious matter, of course,” Juffin smiled. “Kofa, Max, look closely at his unkempt clothes. Can you draw any conclusions, Max?”

“Well, it’s not easy to keep up your appearance on a long journey,” I surmised.

“Nonsense. The captain’s trousers and tunic are perfectly neat and tidy. No other ideas?”

“He just hasn’t taken his shirt off in a long time,” Sir Kofa said, taking pity on me. “That’s because—”

“Because he’s wearing the belt over the shirt!” It suddenly dawned on me. “It’s impossible to remove the belt, right? So that other guy in the morgue, he wasn’t a ragamuffin. He just couldn’t remove his belt and was forced to wear his old skaba for days and days.”

“Now you’re talking!” Juffin exclaimed. “By the way, about that fellow in the morgue—he hadn’t taken off his skaba for much longer than just several days. Perhaps a few years. That was plain to see. But the Old Maid sailed into Echo only eight days ago. You’ve got to get to the bottom of this, Kofa. Get in touch with Nulli Karif and ask him to dig around in the archives. You can occupy Melifaro’s office for the time being. I sent him to find out who the victim was. I have a feeling that it won’t be easy. Max and I will work on the poor captain. You can’t assist us there, anyway.”

“Juffin, what do I need with your mysteries? I have enough of my own to solve,” Sir Kofa said with a sly grin, and shut the door behind him.

“You sent him away, because—” I ventured cautiously.

“Yes, yes. Don’t ask foolish questions. Practicing True Magic in the presence of strangers—well, Sir Maba Kalox might be able to permit himself such luxuries, but I can’t. Nor can you. And without True Magic we’ll end up killing our brave captain. That would be unjust, for one thing. And for another, he can tell us a thing or two. For the time being, just watch me, Max; we never know how something will pan out when you’re involved. If you sense that you can help me in some way—be my guest. If not, don’t try to show off.”

Juffin sighed, rolled up his sleeves, and began tapping lightly and rhythmically with his fingertips—not on the mother-of-pearl belt, but in the air. His fingers stopped just fractions of an inch away from the belt. His movements were mesmerizing, and I seemed to doze off in spite of the obvious importance of what was transpiring.

I slept and I dreamed that I was Captain Giatta. I felt rotten, since I knew what was going to happen. This queer old fellow, the Honorable Head of something or other, wanted to help me. But I knew only too well that all he had to do was touch the Belt (in my own mind it had now become a belt with a capital B)—all he had to do was to touch it with the aim of taking it away, and I would die. And my death would be worse than death. It would be an infinitely long and tormenting demise.

“Juffin!” I cried, hardly able to get my tongue around the word, so drowsy was I. “Don’t do it! We’ll end up killing him, no matter how you go about it. It’s something I know.”