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I held the red purse up before his eyes. "Is this yours?" I asked him.
"No, never! I never – " Durant hacked. "I never saw it – " Again he coughed, trying to clear his throat. He couldn't speak as he was, his head below his chest and tilting back. The muscles of his neck were pulled tight to make it hard for him to breathe.
I reached under his head with both hands. Gripping the board that supported it, I yanked it up until Elkes's head was even with the table.
"Hey, stop that!" Shales cried, starting forward. I ignored her and felt under the headboard for the latch that would keep it from dropping again. Durant started to hack out water mixed with snot as his muscles relaxed. I pushed his head aside with one hand, saying, "Don't spit up on me."
The latch twisted into place. I let go of the headboard. It stayed level, letting Durant breathe easier. His coughs eased. Goodwin handed me a cloth. I wiped the man's face.
"I never saw the purse afore, I swear on my mother's name," he babbled. "I don't know how I came to have – " He tried to sit up, straining against his bonds, his eyes wide, his mouth open in a silent scream. I looked back. Anglesea had struck him on the kneecap with a short whip.
Nestor turned to Anglesea. The cage Dog was just six inches from him, yet Nestor gave him such a punch in the gut that Anglesea flew back three feet. It was a mule's kick of a punch, and I will learn it if it kills me.
"When you stop your questioning, you stop" Nestor told Anglesea, his deep voice very soft. "When another Dog asks the questions, you do not interfere. Understand?"
Shales walked over until she stood across from Nestor, with Durant's body between them. "This isn't your kennel, Sarge," she told him.
"But I can still give the orders," Nestor said. "Right now, your fool partner can't seem to remember that." He went to the door and opened it. "Get out of here, both of you. I'll call you when I want you back. Go on, I say, or you'll find yourselves on duty in the Rattery, I swear it."
Shales stared at Nestor for a moment, her hands clenched into fists. Then Nestor's left hand flashed. He'd just shown her a gold noble, where Anglesea couldn't spot it. That rough cove was too busy puking into the straw.
Shales swung over close to Nestor, bumping him rudely. Even though I was watching, I didn't see the gold change hands. Then she dragged Anglesea to his feet and looped his cleaner arm over her shoulders. "You ain't the King yet, Sarge," she snapped as she half carried her partner out into the hall. "You just watch yourself."
Nestor closed the door behind them. "Keep your voices down and they won't be able to hear," he said quietly, coming back to the table. "I don't know them well enough to trust them if we're getting any solid information here."
I looked at Durant. "So you never saw this purse, but it was in your pocket when you went to buy some sparkles," I told him. "You got it somewhere." He opened his mouth, but I shook my head. "Listen to me. Was your pocket picked today, or yesterday?"
Durant started to say no, then stopped. His eyes went to Nestor, then Goodwin, and back to me. He was trying to think up a lie to cover the thing he was truly guilty of. Didn't the looby realize what trouble he was in? I slapped his cheek, but gently, to get his attention.
"Don't be an ass," I ordered. "Give up the truth, however mad it sounds. You thought your pocket was picked, didn't you?"
He tried to shrug and winced. "Aye," he mumbled. "Some'un brushed agains' me in th' street. I felt for m' purse, an' it was there. I took it up, an' it were this red 'un. It was stuffed wif silver. On'y when I'd set out this mornin', I had but three silvers an' some coppers." He looked at Nestor, Goodwin, and me. "It wasn' stealin' if they give it t' me, right? An' I'm no colemonger if they're th' ones as gimme false coin!" His eyes were frantic. "I swear in Great Mithros's name!"
I patted his shoulder. "I've seen it happen several times." I looked at Nestor. "Maybe if I hadn't forgot I was away from home, and then gotten knocked down, I never would have noticed the others. They're as slick at it as goose grease. Dogs working the same places day after day would miss it."
"Your Rogue had Cooper and me lifted off the street. She threatened our lives if we interfered with her people again," Goodwin told Nestor. "Cooper and me, we're two suspicious mots. Why bother two Dogs picking up filchers? Why bother sending rushers to guard filchers, for that matter?"
"Especially when a few coins to the cage Dogs, or payment of the fine in Magistrate's Court, sends the filchers back to the street," Nestor added. "I know how it's played, you two. Stop trying to make me feel better because too many Dogs have gone crooked or careless."
I picked up Durant's tunic and folded it over, making a bit of a pillow so he might see us better. I slid it under his head. "The filchers are up to sommat special," I said, still trying to spin my thought out. "Something the Rogue wants done. So why would a Rogue want folk to have a purse full of coles?"
"So the coles get into the city's money?" Goodwin asked. She started undoing Durant's straps on one side, while Nestor undid those on his other.
"Then why not dump them in some fountains, or leave bags at street corners, or bake them in buns?" Nestor wanted to know. "Folk would grab them and run. Nobody would know who had the coins or where they came from."
"Instead she sets filchers to give them to certain people." I looked at Durant. "Who are your enemies?"
Durant looked at me as if I'd spoken in some strange tongue. "I've no enemies." His eyes flicked to each of our faces. I'd bet he wondered if he dared say Dogs were his enemies just now. "None."
"You ran afoul of someone of late, Durant," I replied. The idea was showing itself to me at last. "In business, mayhap in your social affairs. You beat someone to a prize, you bought someone out, you set up a marriage for someone who was wanted by someone else. It would be anything like that. Who did you anger?"
Durant lay still for a moment, thinking. Finally he told us, "Steen Bolter. He works in caravans, so why he wanted brass..." He coughed, then went on. "He wanted t' buy up all my stores of brass. He offered half what I'd ask. I said no. He wouldn't leave be. Kep' hintin', threatenin', like." Durant coughed again, turned his head, and spat a bloody mess onto the floor. "Said I was vexin' some'un in power. Said she'd ruin me an' mine. I said, I said, if she's so grand, she can make a better offer. Wha's a mot need with a warehouse full o' vases an' plates an' such anyways? He said never mind what she wanted 'em for, just sell." He stopped to cough again, longer this time. He gasped for a moment after he stopped. "My friends said he works for the Rogue. What's she want with all that brass?"
She wants to melt it down for coles, I thought. Folk kept track of brass ingots, in case colemongers buy them up. But they don't keep track of brass that's worked. How many coles would she get from a warehouse full of brass? Enough to bring down a kingdom? Is she really that stupid?
She uses the red purses to get even with those who anger her. But that doesn't make her rich. How does she pay for those pearl teeth? There isn't a mage that draws breath that does the work before getting paid.
A month ago she gambled high and won greatly. "Does Pearl still gamble?" I asked Nestor.
"Every night, nearabout," he replied. "Custom's fallen off with local folk, but the foreigners and sailors still make up for it in the gambling houses. Not just her, either. She cuts Jurji, Zolaika, and Jupp loose to play, and keeps the second-rate guards around her. She knows she's safe enough at those places."
"Her three gossips play as heavy as she does?" Goodwin asked. Her dark eyes were sparkling. She had the scent, too, I could tell.
"Heavier, and Jupp and Zolaika win more." Nestor wiped Durant's face. The poor mumper had fainted or gone to sleep. "They don't get excited like Jurji, or angry like Pearl."
"And at the end of the night?" Goodwin asked. "What do they do with their winnings?"
Nestor was nodding. "They swap their silver and copper coin for gold. All of them play silver games."
"Do you think the gambling houses suspect?" I asked them. "Surely
some of them must."
"Even if they do, they're trapped," Goodwin said. "They dare not offend Pearl." She looked at Durant. "What happens to this poor scut?"
Nestor went to the door into the kennel and opened it, beckoning to the two cage Dogs. They came inside, looking sullen.
"Here's how this plays," Nestor told them, no longer a soft-voiced hunter but a hard-edged sergeant. "You end this questioning now, by my order. Send this cove to Deep Harbor's cages, on my order to hold him there." Both cage Dogs began to argue. Nestor reached into his purse and drew out a gold noble. He broke it in half. Immediately the cage Dogs fell silent.
"No more questioning," Nestor said firmly. "That's an order." He gave one half of the gold coin to each of them.
"You can't turn him loose," Shales reminded him as she slid her half into her belt pouch. As quick as she did it, you'd never think she already had a whole one for getting Anglesea out of our way. "He's on the record. He gets tried same as any Rat, and the law has him dead to rights."
"Even if a mage with a truth spell can get it out of him that he didn't know?" I asked. "Mayhap he can afford it. His worst crime is that he thought maybe he'd gotten illegal coin and didn't report it. He was greedy, but he never thought to break the law."
"Don't matter if he thought to or no, you oughta know that," Anglesea said. "Don't they teach you right?"
"Cooper, drop it," Goodwin said.
"But Goodwin – " I began. She glared at me and I shut up. If Durant went before a magistrate, he'd be sentenced. For passing coles, he would lose a hand and have the stump cleansed with a dip in boiling oil.
"His family is blameless," Goodwin said. She produced another gold coin and held it up. "Why don't you Dogs let them go home?" She waited until Shales nodded before she let Anglesea snatch the coin. Anglesea broke that one in one hand with a sneer at Nestor, as if breaking soft gold one-handed made him a better cove.
Goodwin gave him her frostiest look. "See to it they just go home," she told him. "Otherwise I'll come back here, and I'll take that gold out of your hides."
Nestor ushered Goodwin and me out of the questioners' room and into the chilly autumn air. "It's the best we can do," he said as we left the kennel. "There's a mage who owes me a favor. I'll make sure she offers Master Elkes her services when he comes before the magistrate. He can still sell brass with one hand."
I didn't want to think about it. I serve the law, but sometimes the law can be too hard for my liking. There is no give to it, no tiny openings through which mice can escape while leaving Rats to pay the penalties they have earned.
I don't want to be nabbing mice like Durant Elkes, who took a windfall and tried to spend it. How many of them have been questioned and given the Drink until they either drown or go mad? I want to be grabbing up the Rat, Pearl Skinner. I want her colesmiths. I want the ones who supply her with silver. And if the method to hand out the coins isn't all hers, I want them that helped her.
All these things I thought on, as I think on them now, while we walked through the streets. I was about to protest when Nestor left us at a shortcut to his home, until I saw that Haden and some other shadows moved off with him. Truda had met us at the kennel gate. She stayed with us, along with her, and our, half-seen guards.
I was about to enter the house when Goodwin shook her head and beckoned to me. She led me around the back to the bridge over the brisk stream that ran there.
"In case there are listening spells in our rooms," she said, talking into my ear. "I don't want Serenity or even Nestor to know what we discuss right now. This stream has a sprite in it. They hate mortal magic. It would take a powerful mage to set any kind of spell here." She reached in her pocket and tossed a silver coin into the stream. "I've come out here to make friends with the sprite after you've gone to your room."
I stared at her. "A sprite? But them's just folk in tales!"
In the half-moon's dim light I saw a crooked smile on Goodwin's mouth. "Tell that to my eyes and my ears, Cooper."
Without thinking, I gave her the tiniest of pushes, like I would give Aniki or Kora. "You said my dealings with dust spinners and pigeons were strange, when I trained with you!"
"And so they are. I'm used to the water folk. Except for the tail, they look like people. Now listen, Cooper, because we're both drunk for need of sleep. I think it's now safe to say that Pearl is our main target, but she's not our only target."
"No arguments," I replied. "And we'll need an army just to get at Pearl."
"Which is what I'm going to fetch, come tomorrow." I stared at Goodwin. This was fast work! And yet I felt it, too, that we had to move fast to keep things from getting away from us.
She clasped my shoulder. "I want to come back with reinforcements in numbers. For that I've got to talk to my lord Gershom. I'll need your written reports before then – sorry, Cooper. I know it's late."
I shook my head. "It's all right." Heat was running in my veins. It was the way I felt when I knew a fat Rat was almost in my grasp. I was waking up.
"Maybe both of us should go." Goodwin chewed her lower lip.
"No," I said once I'd thought it over. "If you go, I can say you got to missing your man. After all, I'm supposed to be the one in danger until all the Pells are caught. You're using your day off, and I am idling about here. I can keep gathering bits and pieces, like where the silver comes from. We haven't heard from Master Finer, remember?"
She sighed. "I know. It's only been two days. We do need to know where they get that silver."
My mind was moving, thinking of what had yet to be done. "I can see what I may learn of Pearl's courts and hideaways, who's in the colemongering with her – "
Goodwin raised a hand to cut me off. "That's just the kind of foolishness I fear!"
"Goodwin," I said, making my voice as firm as I dared, "am I ever reckless when I'm just sniffing around?"
"Yes," she replied.
"Of late?" I asked.
She thought that over. "Well, no. Not since you've had to think for you and a looby of a partner."
"I'll only sniff out word. I won't poke my nose in locked rooms, I swear. But you know it as well as me, if you come back with Dogs or soldiers at your back, Pearl will run. I'll wager she knows every hidey-hole in this city. Won't it be good to be there waiting if she bolts?" I crossed my arms over my chest and shut up. It's always tricky, arguing with Goodwin. There is a line between just far enough and too far.
Goodwin walked across the little bridge and back again, then up the stream bank a way. I stayed where I was. Tunstall stands like an ox when he thinks, his owl eyes staring straight through you. Goodwin is a pacer.
Finally she came back. "How will you sniff out this information?" she demanded.
"I'll start with Okha and Dale," I replied. "Okha knows far more than he wants to give away before Nestor. Dale knows the Rogue, and he says he's welcome in her court. I can be there whilst he gambles with her. If I can find more dust spinners near the places where she holds court, there's extra benefit. I haven't even started to tap the pigeons and the dust spinners here, Goodwin, you know I haven't."
Off she went again, downstream this time. When she returned, she said, "You go to Nestor with anything big. You try nothing on your own. You're clever and quick, but you're still a first-year Dog, which means your chances to end up facedown in a gutter are almost as good as a Puppy's." She leaned in, her face but two inches from mine. "Do not swive with this, Cooper, or I'll have your tongue for a belt purse, so help me, Mithros."
I swallowed hard. "Goodwin, am I a good Dog or not?"
She looked away from me. Then, sudden-like, she wrapped an arm around my head in a rough hold. "You're a good Dog. I want you to live to be a great one." She let me go so quickly I stumbled. She leaned over the rail to gaze at the stream. I was rattled myself, Goodwin not being the affectionate sort.
At last she muttered, "We should have come with more Dogs."
"And be seen from a mile off?" I asked, feeli
ng timid. Sometimes Goodwin can be dreadful gloomy.
"Bull pizzles. There's no way to line this up well," she replied. "Come on, Cooper. Go get your reports writ up, and slide them under my door before you go to bed. I'll be gone before you rise in the morning."
So I did as I was told, writing the rough copy in my journal first, then the formal one on paper for my lord Gershom. I promised myself I would do the copy for Sir Lionel in the morning. Then I slid the reports under Goodwin's door and went to bed. The harbor clocks struck four as I fell asleep.
My fine plans for sleeping until noon today were folly. Achoo woke me around seven, I think, for her necessary business. The cook was much amused at my sorry, sleepy state and gave me a bowl of sommat to feed her as we returned to our room. I only know that I went straight back to bed. My rest was destroyed for good sometime around ten of the clock.
The maid was rapping on my door. "A Master Isanz Finer is here," she called. "He asked for Mistress Goodwin, and he didn't like it that she's gone off. He says he'll talk to you. I wouldn't take forever to come downstairs, though, a'cos he's that vexed about her bein' gone. He might well leave afore you get there. I've put him in the dining room."
I opened the door a crack. "Thanks," I told her. "He's a bit of an old crotchet, I'm afraid." I'd picked up two coppers before I answered the door. I slipped them into her hand. "Would you say I'll be right down?"
The maid looked at the coins, surprised. I'll wager she was startled that I knew to give her a tip. She actually bobbed a curtsy and trotted off down the hall. I shut the door and set about getting dressed.
I found Master Finer where the maid had said he'd be. She had even set him up with a tankard of ale and a plate of cakes. I reminded myself to give her two more coppers and another word of thanks. I must keep in mind that tipping actually does good. Master Finer was setting down his tankard as I came in. There was a bit of foam on his upper lip. From the glare that he gave me, it was the ale alone that had kept him waiting. He'd spread a large map of part of Tortall on the table, anchoring it with a pitcher, the plate of cakes, what must be my tankard, and a bowl of apples.
