Martin Scott - Thraxas at the races

Senator Mursius was a hero of Turai. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that I am the number one suspect for murdering him. I am in trouble. Lightning flashes overhead as I’m led out of the wagon and into a cell.

I was right. My cases usually do turn bad. This one just went very bad indeed.

[Contents]

Chapter Six

At the Guard station they fling me into an underground cell which is as hot as Orcish hell and stinks like a sewer. The Guards all know me but there’s no one likely to do me any favours apart from young Guardsman Jevox, and he’s nowhere to be seen. Civil Guards don’t like Investigators. In particular, they don’t like me. The Guards are under the control of the Prefects in their area. The last Prefect of Twelve Seas, Galwinius, was a man of such corruption that they should have given me a medal for my part in running him out of town, but the Guards don’t appreciate a Private Investigator cutting off their supply of bribes. I haven’t met Galwinius’s replacement Drinius yet, but I doubt he’s any better.

A Sergeant questions me for a while. I tell him I had nothing to do with the murder and I’ll give him the full story when my lawyer arrives. He tells me that that will probably be a long time.

“Why did you kill the Senator?” he demands.

I shake my head wearily. If he didn’t believe my denial the first ten times, I doubt I’m going to convince him now, so I clam up and wait for someone else to arrive. Everyone in a Guard cell is entitled to a Public Defender, but that doesn’t mean you’ll actually get one. They don’t go out of their way to respect your civil liberties in Twelve Seas. I should have my own lawyer on a retainer, but I can’t afford it.

It seems obvious that Carilis has set me up for the murder, but I have no idea why. The door opens and in walks Prefect Drinius, his toga edged in yellow to denote his rank. He’s a tall, lean man with aquiline features and close-cropped hair, still dark. He can’t be much more than a couple of years older than me. I’ve an idea he fought in the war, which says something for his character. Many city officials managed to avoid it. He has the well-modulated voice of the aristocrat who learned rhetoric at school.

“Did you kill Senator Mursius?”

“No.”

“Explain to me what you were doing there.”

I repeat my request for a lawyer. It’s never a good idea to give statements to the Guard without one present. And I’d as soon not have to blacken Mursius’s reputation by spilling the truth about his wife. Even though Mursius is dead I still feel some obligation to protect my client’s good name.

Drinius informs me that I’ll get a lawyer when he’s ready to provide me with one. “I am aware of your reputation, Thraxas. You take pleasure in interfering in the business of the Civil Guards. I do not intend to let you meddle now that I am in command.”

“You ought to be grateful. There wouldn’t have been a vacancy if I hadn’t exposed Galwinius’s corruption.”

Drinius almost smiles. “Perhaps. I understand the Consul himself was pleased. But as you are no doubt aware, it did not increase your popularity among the Civil Guards.”

“I’ve never been really popular with the Guards. I try and try but they still don’t like me.”

Drinius motions for his scribe to come to his side.

“Put it on record that the prisoner refused to make a statement.”

The scribe puts it on record. Drinius dismisses him and the Sergeant.

“Thraxas, I am not the sort of man to leap to conclusions. You may have a good explanation for what you were doing in that warehouse, but as things stand just now, it looks bad for you. You were found next to Mursius’s body. He had been dead for a very short while. The Guard Sorcerer who checked the office found no trace that anyone else had been there. No one at all. Just you and Mursius. Well?”

“Well, he’s wrong.”

“I doubt it. Furthermore, our Sorcerer reports that no sorcery was used in the area.”

This surprises me. I wasn’t expecting the Prefect to try and trick me with such an obvious untruth. The room reeked of sorcery, which would have lingered for a long time after I’d left. Drinius sees my surprise.

“Are you claiming that sorcery had been used? If so, you’re lying. No sorcery was found. Our Sorcerer is quite certain on that point. Which just leaves you and Senator Mursius. And he’s dead. Is there anything you’d like to say?”

“Yes. How about some food? I haven’t eaten today.”

Drinius shrugs, and departs.

A Guard locks the cell and insults me through the barred slot in the door. “Things were good when Galwinius was Prefect. Then you stuck your nose in. Now we’re going to hang you.”

I don’t know what to make of Drinius. I’d assumed he was your standard corrupt Prefect but in reality he doesn’t seem so unreasonable. But why bother lying that no sorcery had been used in the warehouse? That wouldn’t stand up at the trial. A Guard Sorcerer wouldn’t perjure himself about something like that. Even weeks after the event a really good Sorcerer working for my defence could prove that magic had been used at the scene. The Guard Sorcerer would look foolish in court and the Sorcerers Guild would be down on him like a bad spell for abusing his skills. Odd.

The door opens. Breakfast arrives. Bread, cheese and water. All fresh. Perhaps Drinius isn’t so bad. Prefect Galwinius would have let me starve.

I wonder who did kill the Senator. Strictly speaking I shouldn’t have to worry about it. I only work when I’m paid. The Senator hired me to recover his works of art. I recovered them. Then they went missing again. But now he’s dead there’s no one to pay me to find them again, which kind of ends my involvement. Unless they do accuse me of the murder, and I end up having to clear my name. I sigh. If that happens, I’ll end up investigating with no one to pay me. Private Investigator. What a life.

The door opens. Young Guardsman Jevox appears. I helped him in the past, and he owes me a few favours.

“Thraxas,” he says urgently. “You’re in serious trouble.”

“So they keep telling me.”

“I can’t stay here. But I’ve sent a message to the Avenging Axe.”

He disappears. The day gets hotter and I feel more and more in need of a beer. Sabap, the call for afternoon prayers, rings through the city. I kneel and pray. No sense in giving them something else to get me on. Shortly afterwards the door opens.

“Someone to see you.”

Makri walks in. The door closes behind her.

“In the cells again, Thraxas? They ought to put your name on the door.”

“Very funny. How did you get in here?”

“I said I was your wife. And they believed me, which doesn’t say much for your reputation. Or mine, come to that.”

“Well, thanks for coming. I need you to—”

Makri interrupts me. “Let me guess. The case you were working on has now gone drastically wrong. You have annoyed the hell out of the local Prefect and to make matters worse you are now a prime suspect for murder. You need a lawyer, but they won’t bring you a Public Defender so you want me to get you one. Correct?”

“In every detail.”

“Funny how it always happens that way,” says Makri, grinning.

Gurd and Tanrose tell me that Makri has a very attractive smile. I don’t really see it myself.

“So, have you seen Gosax?”

Makri sneers.

“Gosax? That cheap crook? He’s about as much use as a eunuch in a brothel.”

“Maybe, but he’s the only lawyer I can afford.”

Makri looks serious.

“I saw Kerk.”

Kerk is a dwa addict and dealer who, on occasion, passes me information he picks up on his travels.