The Chimney: The Merc Papers

by G. T. Spoor

“Try me. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  That might not have been the best question to ask. Emily took a deep breath and exhaled. “Fine. His name was Brian Macias.”

  “Brian Macias?” Sinclair paused for a moment and shook his head. “I can’t say I’ve heard of him.”

  “That’s what I thought. Thanks anyway, Mr. Sinclair.”

  “Wait.”

  “What now?”

  “I said I have connections. Let me ask around. I’m sure someone knows where he is.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t think he’s anywhere anymore.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “I saw him get into a long black vehicle with a couple of orcs and a vir in a green overcoat.”

  Sinclair’s eyes widened. “Green overcoat, black hair, scar on the left side of his face?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see his face.”

  “Did he walk with a limp?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shagra.”

  “Who’s Shagra?”

  “He’s an enforcer for the Foh family. Not someone to be trifled with. If he took your Brian away… well… it’s not good. Was he a friend of yours?”

  Emily shook her head. “Nothing like that. Just someone with information. How do I get in touch with this Shagra?”

  “You don’t want to.”

  “But say I did.”

  Sinclair turned away from her. “I can arrange a meeting.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

  “How do you know him?” she asked.

  “It doesn’t matter how I know him. I just do, but I would advise against it.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re getting in too deep. You’re getting mixed up with people you shouldn’t be mixed up with.”

  “I need to see this through.”

  He sighed. “I have a feeling I can’t talk you out of this.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  Reaching into his jacket, the young man pulled out two familiar-looking metal rods. They were the ones Emily threw away when they met up with the Blue Tigers. “You may yet need these.” He handed them to her. “I’ll make the arrangements. Be ready.”

  She watched him leave the alley before slipping the tyng into her jacket. Picking up the empty bins, she headed back into the Bird and Bay.

  Chapter 10

  Is There Really Someone Named Fat Foh?

  After emptying the very last bucket, Emily waited in the back alley for a few extra minutes to watch the shadows. She hadn’t heard anything from Sinclair since he left that afternoon, not that he made any indication of when he would get back to her. She had hoped he would have, at the very least, sent word that he had made contact with Shagra, otherwise known as the man in the green overcoat. As of yet, she’d heard nothing. Nothing from Sinclair and nothing from Mira. She was starting to wonder if Mira had forgotten about her as well. The elf didn’t seem too keen on helping her in the first place. Probably set the strange metal device aside and forgot all about it. Once again, she had a couple of good leads going absolutely nowhere.

  Emily set the lid back on the bin and headed into the Bird and Bay with the empty buckets. In the kitchen, Beth was drying the last of the dishes. She had offered to do the washing, but Beth said it helped her unwind after a long day slaving over a hot stove.

  “Anything else you need me to do?” she asked.

  “No, I think that’s about it for today.” Beth wiped her hands on her apron. “You might want to see if Sarah or Kate need help cleaning the tables.”

  The main room was nearly empty. Only one table was occupied. Two men were deep in conversation over a pitcher of ale. Although the kitchen was closed, the bar would remain open a few more hours.

  Tom gave Emily a sideways glance when she came into the room and sat down at the bar. He hadn’t spoken to her or even looked her in the eye since that day. She didn’t care. She never felt comfortable with the way he leered at her in the first place.

  “Coming to help with the drunks?” Kate asked. “As long as you’re quick on your feet, they won’t give you much trouble, and they tip better.”

  “I don’t think so,” Emily said. “I’m quite happy in the kitchen, and besides”—she glanced over at Tom—“I might not be welcome.”

  “What? You think he actually runs this place?”

  Tom made a grumbling sound under his breath. Kate laughed.

  Sarah came out of the back room dressed in her civilian clothing. “You ready?” she asked.

  “Whenever you are,” Emily replied.

  “See you tomorrow, Tom,” Sarah called as she headed for the door.

  “Be on time.”

  “I will as long as the trams are.”

  When they got outside, Sarah pulled on her jacket. There was a slight chill in the air, something Emily found refreshing.

  “You think he’s ever going to be comfortable around me again?” she asked.

  Sarah laughed. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Just enjoy the silence.”

  “I suppose.”

  “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re looking for the man in the green overcoat—right?”

  “We?”

  “Well, yeah. Look what happened when I let you go after Brian alone.”

  “This could get dangerous, Sarah. You said it yourself.”

  “I know, but I want to help. So, come on. Where do we start looking?”

  “Across the street.”

  On the other side of the street was parked a long black currus. A tall, slim man in a green overcoat was leaning against the driver side door. A hat was pulled down over his eyes and a cigarette hung from his mouth. When Emily approached, he pushed the brim of his hat up with one bony finger, took a long drag on the cigarette, and tapped the ashes to one side. His face was hard and leathery. His eyes were nearly black. A scar ran down the length of his jaw starting below his left ear.

  “You must be Ms. Doyle,” he said in a raspy voice.

  “And you must be Shagra,” she replied.

  He tipped his hat and nodded, then moved to the rear of the currus. Opening the back door, he waved her in. “Someone wishes to speak with you.”

  “I thought I was supposed to be talking to you.”

  “You don’t talk to me before you talk to the Cabba.”

  “The Cabba?”

  “The head of the family.”

  “I see. Very well then.” Emily climbed into the back of the currus. Sarah started to follow, but Shagra stopped her.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

  She pointed at Emily. “With her, of course.”

  “I’ve only been instructed to bring one.”

  “Don’t you think for a second that I’m going to let you go off alone with her.”

  Emily had never heard Sarah use that tone of voice before. She could be rather intimidating when she wanted to be. Shagra must have thought so. He stepped aside and let her get in.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Emily asked.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “I can handle this.”

  “Of course you can.” Sarah settled down in the back seat. “But I’m still coming.”

  Shagra climbed into the driver’s seat and without saying a word, he pulled away from the curb.

  ~~~***~~~

  It took nearly an hour to get to their destination and Emily had no more answers than when she started. Shagra said nothing during the entire trip. He refused to answer any questions, no matter how many times she asked them. Eventually she gave up. It was clear he was under strict orders not to offer up any information before she spoke with the Cabba.

  Sarah also remained silent during the trip, but that was probably due to fear. Although she stood up to Shagra, outside the Bird and Bay, the reality of her situation must have finally started to sink in. She was nervous; it was easy to tell. The way she crosse
d her arms over her chest it was almost like she was trying to hug herself out of existence. Emily tried to assure her everything was going to be fine, but the truth was, she wasn’t so sure herself.

  The currus turned off the main road and passed under a narrow stoned arch between two tall buildings. Beyond was a large courtyard hidden away from the rest of the city. The area had a certain regal quality about it. Rows of ornate columns lined the perimeter while stone maidens encircled a larger two-tiered fountain. Although, it might have been more splendid if the fountain had water in it.

  They pulled up outside the main entrance where two orcs, dressed in well-tailored dark gray suits, waited for them. One opened the door to let them out while the other replaced Shagra in the front seat of the currus. Emily was eager to speak with the Cabba; Sarah, not so much. She seemed reluctant to even exit the vehicle.

  “What’s wrong?” Emily asked her.

  Sarah said nothing and simply stared up at the orc holding the door.

  It was the whole hierarchy of New Doral thing again. Vir were supposed to be superior to the other races, especially those of the uhyre. Emily didn’t think Sarah was part of that world, but then she had lived in the city all her life. It was probably not something she was even aware of. There were hardly any orcs on tier ten, so she wouldn’t have had many encounters with them. Even the place she worked, the Bird and Bay, refused to serve any of the other races but the vir. To suddenly find herself face-to-face with an orc was probably not what she expected when she woke up this morning. Emily extended her hand and helped her out of the back seat.

  “It’s all right.”

  Sarah stayed close beside her as they followed Shagra into the main house.

  The Cabba’s dwelling was incredible. It’s what Emily would have pictured the Imperial Palace to look like: high-glossed marble floors and a wide staircase branching off in two directing over a gold inlaid door. Real living plants in large earthen pots were situated against the walls beneath portraits of important-looking people. Grand chandeliers hung on silver chains from a vaulted ceiling. It was clear whoever the Cabba was, he was not someone lacking in wealth. Why then would he choose to live down here on tier eleven?

  Crossing the marble floor, Shagra pushed open the large oak doors and waved for Emily to enter. The room beyond was no less spectacular. A lush red carpet covered the floor and more portraits hung from the walls. Glass display cases lined the hall and they were filled with a variety of curiosities. There was everything from knives to coins and gems to unidentified artifacts, which reminded Emily of the strange black sphere they’d found in Brian’s possession. There was even an assortment of ritualistic masks that caught her attention, but when she stopped to take a closer look, Sarah urged her to keep moving. Her companion did not seem as thrilled by her surroundings and kept looking back over her shoulder to where an orc servant was watching them.

  Shagra directed them to yet another room, this one being a well-decorated office, with a wall of books off to their left and more collectibles on their right. In the center of the room was a massive desk, but nowhere near as large as the man who sat behind it. To say he was simply fat would have been too kind. He was enormous. Bald head, large arms, hands the size of serving platters. His girth kept him from pulling his chair closer to the work, so he was forced to lean forward over his desk. When he sat up, his chair screamed in protest.

  “Leave us, Shagra,” he said, pointing to the door with one thick finger. His voice was shallow and his breath labored.

  Shagra stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  When they were alone, the fat man slowly leaned back in his chair, ignoring the sounds it made. He looked at Emily first, then at Sarah.

  “You must be Ms. Doyle, but you, I do not know.”

  “This is Sarah Cotton,” Emily explained, pulling Sarah closer. “She’s a friend.”

  He seemed to consider the name for a moment, then smiled and nodded. “Then she is welcome,” he said. “As are you. Do you know who I am?”

  “You are the Cabba,” Emily answered

  “I am. My name is Iakob Foh.”

  Foh. Now it was starting to make sense. Before she could stop herself…

  “You’re Fat Foh?”

  Sarah slowly turned and looked at her, the color draining from her face. Iakob laughed.

  “Yes. Yes. I am Fat Foh.” He did not appear to be offended by the name and almost seemed proud of it.

  “Why have you brought us here?” Emily asked.

  Iakob nodded slowly with a satisfied look on his face. “Yes. Dispense with the pleasantries and get down to business. I like that. Very well then. You are seeking a vir by the name of Mr. Macias. Why do you wish to find him?”

  Emily gazed over at the curiosities along the wall. There was quite an assortment of sparkly things. This man was a collector of trinkets, but what other objects did he collect? Were there treasures hidden away in the manor that he couldn’t openly display? Clearly he wasn’t the man she was looking for. Iakob’s voice hardly squeaked, but he might know whoes did.

  “He has information I need,” she answered.

  “I see.” Iakob clasped his hands over his belly and sighed. “Then I am sorry.”

  “W-what do you mean you’re sorry?” Sarah asked.

  “I’m afraid Mr. Macias has met with an… unfortunate accident.”

  “Yes,” Emily said. “That’s kind of what I thought.”

  “Perhaps this information you seek, I may be able to help you find.”

  “And why would you want to do that?”

  “We, down here, often deal in favors…”

  “A favor for a favor?” Emily shook her head. “I’m afraid that might be a bit out of my price range. I do not think any favor I could offer you would be of any value, and I do not wish to be indebted to… criminals.”

  “Criminals?” Iakob slowly repeated the word, almost as if he had never heard it before.

  “Are you crazy?” Sarah whispered through clenched teeth. “I do not think it’s such a good idea to insult a man who surrounds himself with slags.”

  Emily wasn’t sure what surprised her more, that Iakob was now laughing, or that Sarah used a racial slur.

  “I like you, Ms. Doyle,” he said. “You do not cover your words in honey. You say what’s on your mind, and that is a rare quality these days. But you misunderstand. You would not be in my debt, as I am already in yours.”

  “Mine? How?”

  “For helping my nephew, of course.”

  “Your nephew? But I never—Arthur Sinclair. Sinclair is your nephew?”

  And yet another little piece of the puzzle falls into place. Now she knew why the Blue Tigers were willing to leave them alone even though they recognized her. They knew who Sinclair’s uncle was. She had no doubt that he probably contributed to their upkeep.

  “My sister Sopio’s son,” Iakob explained. “She died of rikers when he was very young. I took him in and raised him as my own. I fear I may have spoiled him a bit.”

  “I’ll say. He is a bit of an ass and kind of irresponsible.”

  Iakob’s face went neutral for a moment. “Yes, this is true.” He bobbed his head from one side to the other. “But he is still family.” The large man shifted his weight in the chair and leaned forward, placing his massive hands on the desk. “So, tell me. What is this information you seek?”

  “I need to know who Brian was working for.”

  “He works for me, or at least he did.”

  “Then are you in the habit of selling slaves?”

  The fat man’s eyes narrowed and his face slowly turned red. “Take care, Ms. Doyle. There are certain commodities that even I will not deal in. What proof do you have that Mr. Macias was involved in something like this?”

  “Only my own experience. Brian set me up to be abducted and sold into slavery. If you weren’t behind it, who was?”

  “I hired Mr. Macias to retrieve certain… valuables. Valua
bles he failed to deliver one too many times. I do not trade in slave labor. If he was doing this, then he was doing it behind my back.” Iakob reached under the desk, and within a few moments, the office door opened. Shagra stood on the threshold.

  “Sir?”

  “I have reason to believe that Mr. Macias may have been hounding flesh. Did you know about this?”

  “There were rumors, sir, of someone setting up shop, but I was unaware of Mr. Macias’s involvement. Had I known—”

  “Yes, of course,” Iakob interrupted. “This bodes ill for me, Shagra. I will not have something like this going on under my very nose again. Look into it.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Now, Shagra.”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  When Shagra left, Iakob seemed to calm down. At least his face wasn’t red anymore. This man went from hot to cold rather quickly, and that made him unpredictable.

  “I cannot thank you enough for bringing this to my attention, Ms. Doyle,” he said. “I promise you I will get to the bottom of this, one way or another.”

  “That’s fine, Mr. Foh, but this man, this slaver, he has something of mine, and I intend to get it back.”

  “You.” He laughed. “But you are a… a little girl.”

  “I assure you, sir. I can take care of myself.”

  Leaning back in his chair, the fat man stroked his chin. “If what my nephew says about you is true, maybe you are the one to handle this. I’ll tell you what. You find this man, this trader of flesh, bring him to me, or better yet, deal with him yourself. When it is finished, I will reward you handsomely.”

  “I will not kill, Mr. Foh—nor will I bring him here to be killed. If I find him… when I find him, I will bring him to the proper authorities.”

  “Authorities? In the Chimney.” Iakob laughed. “You would be hard-pressed to find anyone in authority. But I respect your morals. Do as you feel you must. Speak with Shagra. He may be able to help you.” He reached under his desk again. The office door opened and Shagra was there waiting.

  “Shagra, take these young ladies back home.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Stepping aside, he waved them out of the room. Clearly Emily’s audience with Fat Foh was at an end and not as productive as she had hoped. Once out in the hall, they followed Shagra back to the foyer.