Mark Del Franco - Uncertain Allies

Murdock rang the bell. A pale blond kobold no taller than my shoulder answered, a faintly suspicious look on her face. “Yes?”

“Detective Lieutenant Murdock to see Thekk Veinseeker.”

Her placid gaze swept over us, then she closed the door. Confused, Murdock looked at me. “Kobolds are not big on social graces. Let’s give it a few minutes,” I said.

It was a few minutes. The kobold returned and ushered us in. Inside, the granite structure was nothing more than the top landing of a wide marble staircase. The kobold led us down without speaking. I’d been in a few dwarven homes, but this one was more elaborate than any I had seen. The construction was all stone—slates, marbles, and granites—richly carved to resemble wood. I never understood the affinity for nature carvings that dwarves preferred yet avoided in day-to-day life. They liked to look at it but not be in it.

At the foot of the stairs, a wide round entry hall served as the junction for several corridors leading off into dimness. The kobold headed straight across the mosaic floor to the archway opposite and directed us through an open door.

I had a hard time pinning the room down. It was a study or an office or a receiving room. Ornate ribs of granite crisscrossed the ceiling in a series of vaults. Deep red stone latticework filled wall panels between black-veined mustardcolored pilasters. Intricate marble tiles turned the floor into a tapestry of geometric designs. A long narrow slab of granite rested on ebony legs that resembled a wolf’s. Shafts of sunlight filtered down from the ceiling at the far end of the room, backlighting the dwarf seated on a large chair carved with woven vines. Two fireplaces flanked the table, tall enough for us to stand in. Fires burned in both, taking the edge off the cool air of the underground chamber. Something felt familiar about the place, but, despite the patchy spots in my memory, I doubted I had ever been in the room.

“Subtle,” Murdock said out of the corner of his mouth.

Thekk Veinseeker wore a short quilted jacket of orange silk with dusty yellow pearls sewn into whorls of gold thread, a casual version of the florid outfits that rich dwarves favored. His large, blunt face jarred in contrast, hard lined with thick black eyebrows and bowl-cut hair the color of iron. “How may I be of service, gentlemen?”

“We’re here about your brother. I’m Detective Lieutenant Murdock. This is my associate, Connor Grey,” Leo said.

Thekk didn’t move. “Which brother?”

“Nar,” Murdock said.

“I have no such brother,” Thekk said.

Murdock and I exchanged glances. “I don’t think I made a mistake, sir,” Murdock said. “Our records indicate Nar Veinseeker was your brother. I’ve seen his name mentioned in relation to your quarry business.”

Thekk made a face as if Murdock had suggested something perverse. “Nar is no longer part of the clan.”

The only thing dwarves held closer to their hearts than profits was family. Extended family grouped into clans and lived as near to each other as possible. They knew each other, knew their businesses and their secrets. “How can he not be a part of the clan if he was your brother?” I asked.

A thin trickle of essence floated through the room as Thekk stared into the fire. Disturbed, the dark mass pulsed in my head. Thekk was scrying, using the flames to sort through possible future events. “Can you not do that, please? It’s interfering with . . .” I paused. He didn’t need to know my personal issues. “. . . It’s making my body shields activate in an uncomfortable manner.”

Thekk grunted in surprise, and the scrying field collapsed. “My apologies, good druid. I am a poor host.”

“No problem. We were hoping you might tell us if Nar had enemies,” I said.

Thekk pushed out of the chair and strode toward one of the fireplaces. “I’m sure he has many. It is not a subject of study for me.”

“Why isn’t he part of the clan anymore?”

Thekk moved away from the hearth. “He chose profit over his family.”

“And the clan booted him out?” Murdock asked.

“There is no shame in making profit. Nar made his by betraying the clan and refused to tithe as recompense,” said Thekk.

We were moving into cultural territory I didn’t know well. Dwarves valued loyalty to each other. Other people didn’t rate high on their list of concerns, but a member being rejected by the clan had to be about something major. “What was the deal about?”

Thekk rubbed his hand along the edge of the granite slab. “It was so long ago, good druid. I don’t recall. It no longer concerns me.”

I didn’t believe him. Dwarves have long memories. “When was the last time you spoke?”

Thekk folded his hands in front of him. “Seventy years? Eighty? I have no information about him that would be of help to you.”

“Let’s talk about your warehouse going up in flames,” Murdock said.

Thekk sighed. “An unfortunate occurrence.”

“You don’t seem that upset,” I said.

He shrugged. “I should have sold the building years ago. I had the good fortune of insurance. My business has been outside Boston for decades now.”

“Someone’s been interested in talking to dwarves who were in the city decades ago. Have you heard anything about that?” I asked.

Impatience was starting to show on his face. “Is there a purpose to this discussion? I am a member of the Teutonic Consortium and see no need to answer to Guild agents.”

“We’re not Guild agents,” I said.

“You were, sir. I see it in your bearing and your voice. I have made it clear that the clan has no knowledge of Nar and no interest. His fate has no meaning for us,” Thekk said.

“Three dwarves have been killed, and your warehouse burned to the ground. Don’t you find it interesting that Nar is linked to all three?” Murdock said.

“I find it sad, sir. Trouble gathers like crows. Nar always had a knack for trouble,” he said.

I decided to change the conversation. “What happened upstairs? You’ve got burn marks on your house.”

“I believe the gardeners are clearing unwanted brush.”

He had paused longer than necessary to answer the question. “A little aggressive, aren’t they?” I asked.

“I am not a gardener, sir. I pay them to do their jobs as they see fit.”

“Has someone threatened you?” Murdock said.

Thekk chuckled. “I am a loyal subject of the Elven King. If someone were threatening me, I would pursue it through the Consortium.”

“Do you know any of Nar’s current associates?” Murdock asked.

Thekk frowned, his thick unibrow rippling into a thicker one. “He lives in that slum in Boston where my warehouse was. Why would I know any of those people?”

A smile twitched at the corner of Murdock’s mouth as he offered his business card. “I know what you mean. If you think of something, we would appreciate a call.”

Thekk received the card and made a point of reading it. “I will, Detective, but I doubt there will be a need. Will there be anything else?”

Murdock looked at me, but I had nothing to say. “No, thanks.”

Thekk returned to the chair behind the slab table. “Have a pleasant day.”

Given Thekk’s less than warm manner, I was surprised he trusted us to see ourselves out. Once in the receiving hall, though, I sensed subtle essence barriers across the openings to the other corridors. Walking anywhere but up the stairs would have tripped alarms. Either that or they were simple barriers that would prevent us from moving freely through the house.

“That was strange,” Murdock said as he pulled down the driveway.

“Dwarves are suspicious of outsiders. I don’t know what he was talking about with the clan thing though,” I said.