The Snows of Montora (The Chronicles of Montora Book 3)

by Ward Wagher

  “The fear of God, anyway.”

  “We gotta watch him, though. George is fundamentally gutless.”

  “Yep. He'll leave the Skipper twisting in the wind if things go sour.”

  Smith frowned. “The Boss really doesn't need friends like that.”

  They watched as Frank and Emily turned and walked back toward the house. As the two men stood at the window, Stephanie bounced up to them. Her long brown hair swirled about her shoulders as she rocked to a halt.

  “There you are. What'cha doing?” She then looked out the window. “Oh.”

  “Just keeping an eye on things,” Smith said. “And how has your day been?”

  She nodded out the window. “I just feel so bad about Gough. I don't know what Emily is going to do.”

  “Emily is the strong one,” Smith said.

  She thought about what he didn't say. “Is the Skipper coming unglued?”

  “So far he's hanging together. Jones and I were just talking. We need to find a way to really keep him busy.”

  “I've been helping the Mayor out. The Skipper needs to be there. Most of the business guys have been stopping by and telling him he's in charge now. He wasn't quite sure what to do.”

  “I didn't know you knew him.”

  “Oh, yes,” she replied. “Lucretia is a dear. Why are you rolling your eyes, Martin?”

  “That woman is a troll,” Jones said, and stalked off.

  Smith and Stephanie both watched him walk away.

  “That's new,” she said. “What brought that on?”

  “That, Stephanie, is just about the first time Jones has ever left me at a loss for words. I don't know.”

  She quickly got back on her track. “Anyway, I helped the Mayor write some proclamations. We are going to have elections to the city council in thirty days. Then we will write a city charter and by-laws. Then we will have elections for Mayor.”

  “Just you and the Mayor did this?” Smith asked.

  “Well, yes. I took a course in Civics at the University. I still have my book. Funny how they taught something nobody practiced around here. Several of the businessmen stayed around to help. Pamela Liston helped a lot!”

  “Pamela was there?”

  “Oh, yes. I guess she was there first thing in the morning. She said George was hiding in his office.”

  Smith snorted. “That much makes sense.”

  “She said George does something mildly dangerous about once every twenty years. He then takes weeks getting over it.”

  “Wouldn't surprise me,” Smith said.

  “And, well, since I granted myself rights to the planetary data-net, I put up a page for the new government. Did I do the right thing?”

  Smith was laughing now. “Stephanie, you did better than ninety-nine and forty-four hundredths percent of the politicians in the universe could have done.”

  “Thanks. Well, Spanky helped me some, I have to admit. But, everybody just pitched in, and we got things done. I checked in at the office too. We had a couple shipping orders come in over the data-net. Do you think it will be okay for me to talk to Ems?”

  “I think Emily will be glad to see you, Stephanie,” Smith said.

  “Great. See you later, Cedric.” Smith watched the lithe young woman swing away in her tight denims and wished he was young again. He shook his head, and then wondered what ailed Jones.

  § § §

  “Could you explain to me just what the hell you were doing meddling in the local politics?” Willard Krause had worked himself up. “Why could you not have done what I told you and kept your head down? Good heavens above, I have to leave instructions for using the fresher – otherwise you would probably blow it up. The Provost is scream...”

  Frank stared at the com screen in his office at the furious visage of the Admiral, and considered briefly. He then hit the disconnect button.

  “Was that the Admiral?” Emily Brundage asked as she stepped into the room with a couple of data chips that had just arrived.

  “Was. I decided I wasn't in a mood to be lectured this afternoon.”

  “You dropped the connection? Good for you. Willard is like a father to me, but sometimes he gets overbearing.”

  “I wonder if he had his biological children killed, too. First Wendy, then Gough. I wouldn't want him for a parent. Sorry, Emily.”

  “Frank, I don't know what is worse, Willard's callousness or your victimhood. I would just as soon hear neither right now.”

  Frank shook his head as she departed the room. I'm not going to win today, I guess. He tapped in Smith's com code.

  “Smith.”

  “How's the office look?”

  “It really is move-in ready, Skipper.”

  “I thought it was pretty decent when we looked at it. Did they leave the furniture?”

  “Yes. I don't think we'll have to buy anything major.”

  “Let's go ahead and move our offices today, then, Cedric. We can air-connect to the data-net until the cable techs come out. I need to get out of here before I drive Emily crazy or vice-versa.”

  Smith said nothing for a few moments.

  “You still there, Cedric?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Okay, then. If you want to bring the car back, I'll pack up here. I don't do well working at home anyway.”

  “Be there in fifteen, Skipper.”

  Frank disconnected and looked around the room. “Emily!”

  Emily stepped back into the room. “Yes, Lord and Master?”

  “Listen, I'm sorry for being an idiot. I'm not helping you deal with things this way. I thought I'd go ahead and move to the new offices.”

  “Have you forgotten I am supposed to be functioning as your assistant, Frank?”

  “With the com links, there's no reason you can't work here at the house.”

  “Has it occurred to you that I might need to get out of here too?” She choked up. “Gough and I lived here for five years. I keep expecting to see him walk around the corner, or call to me from the garden. But he's not going to do that, is he? Oh, Frank! Whatever am I going to do?”

  Frank reached out and grasped her arms. “You'll do what we all do and carry on, even though it hurts.”

  “But it hurts, Frank! Why does it hurt so?” She stepped in and threw her arms about his neck and wept into his shoulder.

  Frank looked uncomfortably at the wall and awkwardly patted her back. After a couple minutes she stepped back, and brushed at his shoulder where her tears fell.

  “I'm sorry, Frank. I shouldn't put you on the spot like that.”

  Frank opened his mouth and raised his arms slightly, but could think of nothing to say.

  She laughed softly. “Aren't we just a couple of losers? Let me help you get things put together to take to the office. Maybe by the time we hire a new housekeeper, I can manage the office without driving you berserk.”

  “Thanks, Ems. Sometimes I just don't know what to say. I mainly need a place to hide. The admiral is probably going to come dirt-side and give me one of his lectures. And I'm really not sure I can take that right now.”

  “If he comes by here, Frank, I'll send him packing. We're turning this planet into a fit place for people to live. If he can't handle that, he's in the wrong business.”

  Frank looked out the window for a few moments, then grinned. “Everything else has gone well the past two weeks. Stephanie is rather amazing.”

  “It's amusing how she flies around telling everyone how to do their job, and how the government is supposed to run.”

  “And she won't take a position herself,” Frank said. “And the way Spanky has attached himself to her.”

  “She told me if she didn't enjoy working for you so much, she would go into business with him,” Emily said.

  “We are definitely under-utilizing her. I didn't realize the girl had such depths.”

  “The way the operation seems to be expanding around here, it's probably a good thing. Could I suggest, Frank, that yo
u task her with finding a housekeeper? Maybe put her in charge of the real estate. You own this house and the new office building. She has a tendency to want to do everything herself. She needs to learn to delegate.”

  Frank rolled his tongue around the inside of his cheek. “We need to figure out a way to do it without it sounding contrived.”

  “Maybe I should do it,” she said. “She's gotten pretty good at reading you. I don't think she's totally figured me out, yet.”

  “I'm pretty sure she has decided to adopt us as her family,” Frank said. “The poor thing doesn't have anybody else on this dirt-ball.”

  Emily snorted. “Then God help that girl, getting attached to a dysfunctional family like this one. Although Cedric seems to doing the father-role-model pretty well.”

  “And what does that make me?”

  “Why, you're the senile elderly uncle.”

  “Thanks a lot, Emily,” Frank growled.

  “No extra charge, Skipper.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  The coastal area occupied by Gustav sloped gently towards the swampy harbor. In the other direction the land only rose a couple hundred feet even as far as several miles from the waterfront. The low mountains were forty miles distant.

  Certainly different from Hepplewhite, Frank thought as Smith eased the car up the only hill of any significance in the area. The mild, semi-tropical climate allowed a mixture of forest and grassland along this section of the coast. The hill, which appeared nameless, had a mixture of trees and open park land. At the top of the hill Smith swung into a parking lot next to a red brick building.

  Frank climbed out of the car and looked around. At the base of the parking lot was a small pond which was apparently filled by runoff from the lot. The land on the other side stretched out for several hundred yards before sloping down towards the harbor.

  “Nice view, Skipper,” Smith said.

  “Yep. Even better from the fourth floor. Glad it was empty.”

  The building was sparsely occupied, and the fourth floor was entirely empty. The owner was anxious to sell something that was not turning the income needed to pay for itself. After looking at it, Frank was happy to snap it up. It was less than ten years old, and attractively priced.

  “Long way to carry the boxes.”

  “Oh, quit bellyaching, Smith. I'll help you with the boxes.”

  The smells from the small bistro in the lobby were enticing. The previous owner of the building apparently had some pride as the lobby was spotless, and the chrome trim glistened. The lift was a counter-grav model, and rose smoothly to the fourth floor.

  Smith exited the lift first and carried his stack of boxes a short distance to a set of double doors in the central hallway. On one door gold letters were mounted.

  Nyman Trans-Space, Limited

  “You got the sign up quickly, Cedric,” Frank said.

  “Actually Stephanie was here earlier today and had this done. She also got us listed on the directory in the lobby.”

  “Good for her.”

  “She can't wait to get the offices moved from the lower city out to here.”

  “I thought she liked the old town.”

  “She does,” Smith replied, “but she's excited about the new building.”

  “I wish I had that much energy.”

  Smith unlocked the door with a key-card and kicked it open. “Be it ever so humble.”

  Frank walked in. “It really is clean. I just glanced in here when we looked at the building.” He walked over and sat his stack of boxes on the corner of a desk.

  “Decided which office you want, Skipper? This suite stretches all the way to the corner of the building. There's a big corner office there.”

  “What's that, about fifty yards from the lobby? With just the two of us here, it doesn't make much sense. This one here will do for now.”

  He pointed to a door right off the lobby that opened into a windowless cube.

  “People will think you're the mail-clerk, Skipper.”

  “I don't care what people think,” he laughed. “Once we start moving more people in, I can migrate down the hall.” He picked up the stack of boxes and walked into his temporary office. “Besides,” he yelled out to Smith, “I got three or four shipping contracts to read.”

  “How are the girls doing on that?” Smith asked.

  “Not bad. I'm glad you suggested teaching them to write contracts. Stephanie has it nailed. Emily is coming along. Mainly now I have to just watch out for those gotchas that come from lack of experience.”

  “Good. If you have to travel again, we'll be glad we got them trained. There's a lot of business starting to come through the office.”

  “Not even including the stuff I brought from Earth with me,” Frank said.

  “Oh, and you might want to talk to George Liston about the latest victualing invoice,” Smith said.

  “I suppose I'll have to reach down his throat and rip a lung out.”

  “Why do you let him play these games, Skipper?”

  “Oh, it's no big deal. I try to short him on the payments. We scream and yell at each other, then go to dinner. It keeps things interesting.”

  “I'm surprised you trust him.”

  “I don't. But he does a good job for us as long as somebody pays attention.”

  “The way you two carry on, I thought you hated each other,” Smith said.

  “Nah. George is okay.”

  Frank pulled his portable comp-term from a box and set it on the desk. Smith carried his boxes down the hallway and put them in an office next to the corner office. He then pulled out what he needed and moved back to the desk in the entry lobby.

  An hour later a slight, middle-aged man stepped through the door into the office. He was nattily dressed and wore a homburg. Smith stood up.

  “How may I help you?”

  He pulled credentials out of his pocket, including a large gold badge. “I'm Inspector Standish of the Gustav Police.”

  Smith reached out and pulled the wallet closer, looked at the picture on it and then studied the policeman.

  “Inspector Warner Standish. What can I help you with?”

  “I wonder if I might have a word with your boss?”

  Smith scraped his teeth over his lower lip, and then nodded. “Sure thing.”

  He stood up and walked over to tap on the door frame. “Inspector Warner Standish of the Gustav Police, Skipper.”

  “I heard. Ask him to come in.”

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me. I won't take much of your time.”

  Frank shook hands with Standish and pointed to a chair.

  “I believe this is the first time I've seen the police out and about,” Frank said.

  “There aren't many of us. The regime change has been helpful.”

  “I'm glad to hear that,” Frank said. “I'm much happier having a regular police force than those thugs trotting around collecting protection money.”

  “That probably isn't over yet,” Standish said, “but, I intend to do my best to stamp it out.”

  “You will have my undying gratitude, then.”

  Standish smiled. “And that of a lot of people. Well. Shall we get down to business?”

  “Sure.”

  “It seems that Benjamin Chavis has turned up missing,” Standish said. “I was wondering if you had seen him.”

  “I haven't seen him for a couple of weeks,” Frank replied. “Did you check with his goons?”

  “They say they don't remember.”

  “They don't remember?”

  Standish smiled again briefly. “They woke up in their boss's car one morning, and don't remember how they got there. They mentioned a Sleep-Gas hangover, so it would be logical they wouldn't remember anything from the previous sixteen hours.”

  “Is that so?” Frank asked.

  “I have been doing a little checking around. Something like this happened once before.”

  “Chavis disappeared once before?”

>   Standish cocked his head as he gazed at Frank. “Perhaps I should use a little more precision in my speech, Mr. Nyman. Chavis and his troop woke up one morning in the car, none the wiser. By the process of elimination I have deduced that Chavis may have been to visit you.”

  “An interesting theory. Seems to me like you might have to stretch the fabric just a bit to get it around the framework of your suppositions.”

  “Perhaps. I was hoping, though, you might be able to enlighten me.”

  “Why are you worried about Benjamin Chavis, Inspector? He is or was a two-bit thug, and not very good at what he did. If he fell in with bad company, it's no loss to Gustav.”

  “In general I agree with you,” the dapper man said. “But the mayor has charged me with cleaning up as many of the loose ends as possible.”

  Frank rolled tongue inside his cheek as he thought. “I guess I'm concerned that your charter may not include events prior to the regime change.”

  “Strictly speaking, it does not. However, if you know something useful, I would appreciate your letting me know.”

  “I understand.” Frank stood up and stuck out his hand. “I can't tell you how nice it is to have proper law enforcement on the job. If I can help you with anything in the future, please don't hesitate to call on me.” Frank laid a careful emphasis on the word future.

  The cop stood up. “Of course. Thank you for your time, Mr. Nyman.”

  The inspector spun on a heel and walked out. He nodded to Smith on the way through the outer office.

  Smith walked to the door of Frank's office. “What was that about, Skipper?”

  “The paranoid part of me says that there is still another player out there. Hard to tell, though. You and Jones want to keep an eye on him, however.”

  “Will do. For the record, though, I think he's an honest cop.”

  “It was more interesting than reading shipping contracts, but they're still sitting here. Back to the work at hand.”

  Smith nodded and went back to the desk he had selected for the afternoon. He had hardly sat down again when the door opened. Smith jumped to his feet as Admiral Willard Krause walked in.

  “At ease, Sergeant. I'm here to see your boss.”