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“The Shadow.”
“Indeed. Exactly. The Rose Purple did not misinform you completely, then. Remarkable. Yes. The Shadow. Of negligible intrinsic worth, it nevertheless has substantial moral value among folk of a certain sort. We are here, at the behest of the Venageti Crown, to recover the royal property.” She studied me from narrowed, piggy eyes, vast and truly ugly. “That would not be a problem, would it, sir? You won’t judge me simply for being Venageti?”
“No. We won the war.”
“Excellent. Excellent. I endured my own sorrows during those bleak seasons, I assure you. As did we all. Well, sir. Can I count upon you, then?”
I frowned. That didn’t make sense. I confessed, “I don’t get what you’re asking.”
“In the spirit of the new friendship between our peoples, you will return the Shadow to me, the Hand of Begbeg.”
All Venageti rulers have Beg in their name. The one who quit fighting called himself Begbeg, which means King of Kings or King of the World.
“I don’t have your doohickey. I don’t know where it is. I don’t know what it is. I wouldn’t recognize it if it bit me on the ankle. And I don’t much care.”
“Sir!”
“I do know that somebody tried to bust into my place, somebody else made him dead, and one of those somebodies got dead himself, later on. Cutie-pie there watched everything from across the street. You probably know more than I do.”
“But Recide brought you a box.”
“He did? Singe, did you see a box?”
“I did not.” She was distracted. Beyond Miss Grünstrasse’s pong, the suite was replete with unusual odors.
“Really, Mr. Garrett. You dissemble. Eliza saw the box.”
I looked at the blonde, as still and perfect as ornamental porcelain. Had she, indeed? Unlikely. Why say so, then? “She has magic eyes, she could see inside my place from where she was standing.”
“You waste your time trying to provoke her.”
Little bits was not my target.
Someone thumped the door with grand enthusiasm.
BUNNY LED THE DINNER DELIVERY. HE WAS IN A BLACK MOOD. HIS PRINCIPAL assistants were a boy and girl in their early teens. Penny was the girl. The boy, presumably Bottle, was more damned dangerously good-looking than she had hinted. He was blessed with way too damned much self-confidence, too.
Two more staffers brought folding tables, one at which to dine and another whence the kids could serve.
A sad old frail who might be Bunny’s mate bustled in. “Found it!” She unfolded a chair designed to fit someone equipped with a tail.
The crew set four places atop clean linen. Eliza sat down but did not seem pleased.
We ate, mostly in silence, duck and some other stuff, none of it memorable. Neither was the wine, though it was a TunFaire Gold. Singe was the only one who knew what to do with the arsenal of tools.
Eliza ate just enough to claim participation. She never spoke. Her eyes were not shy, however.
Finally, over the bones, Miss Grünstrasse observed, “I will miss the food here. So. Mr. Garrett. You hope to gain some advantage from holding out on the Shadow. How can I change your mind?”
“You can’t. I don’t have the damned thing.”
The woman laughed. Tremors surged through her flab. “Very well, then. Very well. What will it take to encourage you to find it?”
“I don’t know what to look for. But Rock offered four thousand silver nobles for it.”
Miss Grünstrasse began to quake all over. “The Rose Purple? Four thousand? That prince of liars! That latest in an endless procession of thieves! He will abscond on his account, wherever he is staying.”
Odd thing to say. Silence followed. Eliza seemed especially interested.
