Dahran swept past her, handing her a mug on the way. “Get me some more java, would you?”
“Sure,” Kadin said, but he didn’t have time to hear her response before he breezed down the hall. I wonder if he’s a self-respecting detective so far as cream and sugar are concerned.
She refilled Dahran’s mug from the fresh pot of java and sidled down the hall to Fellows’s office.
“—open and shut case,” Fellows was saying. “We need to make finding Baurus DeValeriel our number one priority. Any questions?”
Kadin cleared her throat. “Well…”
Fellows narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m in a meeting, Miss Stone.”
“Right. I needed—”
Dahran laughed. “She was bringing me my java.” He reached out and took the cup from Kadin. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, Caison.”
“Indeed.” Fellows shuffled past Dahran toward the door and shut it in Kadin’s face.
Kadin blinked. I should knock on the door and insist on talking to them. But… would they even listen to me? Maybe I should… get some more concrete evidence and then present it to him.
She pulled the notes from the night before out of her bag and scanned them. The best leads she had to go on were the names of Queen Callista’s lovers from the year before. Duke Baurus believed that the queen had a special attachment to one of them, so the trick would be to find out which one. Fortunately, she had access to one of the best indexed archives of Imperial tabloids in the city.
Kadin took the lift to the ground floor and strode through the glass-paneled doors of the personnel office. She smiled at the secretary as she sashayed into Olivan’s office and closed the door. Looking around the office, she felt a burst of pride, rather than her accustomed envy. She, too, had an office, instead of a switchboard cubby, with the same institutional white walls, grey metal furniture, and drab brown carpet. Maybe Olivan had a few more filing cabinets than she did, and she would probably never get that classy citrus scent to permeate her space, but she was moving up in the world.
“I need your help.” Kadin swept past her sandy-haired friend’s desk and opened one of his filing cabinets.
Olivan stood up so fast his chair skidded across the floor. “K, you can’t go in there! Those are confidential personnel files.”
Yeah, right. She pulled out a file. “Oh, so Valeriel Investigations has hired Duke Cobalt Fan’s wife’s dressmaker?” she asked, reading the paper on top. “Interesting. I’ll have to get him to design my outfit the next time I have to go question someone at the palace.”
Olivan snatched the file folder out of her hand. “It could have been confidential personnel data!”
“No, it couldn’t.” Kadin yanked another file out of the drawer. “In my experience, ‘confidential’ doesn’t mean much to you, so if I had opened personnel files, you wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. But if I were to get a few files in your Imperial index out of order. Well, then, you might not look like the gossip expert your reputation suggests.”
Olivan grabbed the file out of her hand before she had a chance to open it. “Okay, fine. You don’t have to invade my files. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
Kadin sat on the edge of his desk and crossed her legs. “I know. I just like watching your reaction. You have to be the most neurotic gossipmonger in the city.”
Olivan slid the folders she had removed back into the cabinet, checking twice to make sure that each was in the proper place. “What are you looking for? More information on the murder case?” He turned to her, his eyes glowing.
Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. “You can’t tell anyone.”
He pantomimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key.
“I mean it, Ollie.” She did her best to look stern. “The detectives don’t know I’m doing this.”
Olivan slid the filing cabinet closed and opened the one beneath it. “You’re doing work you don’t have to? Have I taught you nothing?”
Kadin glanced at the closed door. “It’s not that I don’t have to! It’s…” She looked back at his raised eyebrows. “Okay, so they want me to sit there and look pretty and stay out of the case, but I’ve stumbled onto a few things they don’t know about. So I figure I’ll investigate, and if I come up with anything, I’ll let them know.”
Olivan gave a low whistle. “I don’t know, K. I mean, everyone knows that Baurus DeValeriel killed Queen Callista, so I don’t know what more information I can give you.”
Kadin considered telling Olivan that Duke Baurus had visited her house, but decided against it, if only because she would never get Ollie back on topic if he knew she had met one of his Imperial crushes. “You’re right. My investigation probably won’t make a difference. But it’s something to do other than rearrange my paper clips for the fiftieth time.”
“Okay.” Olivan eyed his own paper clip collection. Kadin knew for a fact its disarray had nothing to do with his work ethic. “What do you want to know?”
Kadin pulled out the scrap of paper Duke Baurus had given her and passed it to Ollie. “I need to know which of these men Queen Callista was in love with.”
Olivan made a disbelieving noise in his throat. “Queen Callista wasn’t in love with anyone. It probably would have ruined her nails.”
“Well, I have evidence that suggests otherwise.”
Olivan had been scanning the list, but his head shot up. “I don’t know whether I should laugh in your face or interrogate you about your sources.”
Kadin closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You should look at that list and tell me whether the queen was in love with any of those men.”
“Okay, okay.” Olivan turned his attention back to the paper. “First one is ancient, second is happily married, and the last is a total jerk who’s cast two wives out onto the street so he could marry younger women. The second wife really should have seen it coming.”
“Hm.” Kadin suspected the queen too shallow to go for a man Olivan described as “ancient,” even if she did know her friend’s perception of age was a bit distorted. A happily married man probably wouldn’t have returned to Queen Callista in the last week, but the third… Queen Callista wasn’t very nice herself, so she might find a similar man appealing. “What’s the name on that last one? In case I wanted to talk to him?”
“You can’t. He had a horseback riding accident and has been laid up with a broken leg in Scanty for three weeks.”
That rules him out. “I gave you one more name. Tell me he’s a better prospect.”
“Lord Landis Imbolc.” Olivan thumbed through the folders in the drawer. “You should know this one. Heir to Duke Chaise Imbolc, Assembly member and ruler of Imbolc Territory. Lord Landis is a notorious playboy whose name has been coupled with every unmarried Imperial woman’s and more than a few of the married ones.” Olivan pulled out a thick file. “I’ve got more information on him than practically anybody else. Do you want me to go through this whole thing?”
Kadin eyed the stack of papers. “Maybe I could borrow it?” Olivan drew his head back as if she had asked to borrow his first born, and Kadin laughed. “I promise not to tell anyone where I got it. Or lose any of the clippings. Or get any of the pages out of order.”
“No java stains on it either.” Olivan handed over the folder.
Kadin weighed the heavy file in her hands. I guess I’ve got work for the next few days. Even if Fellows doesn’t need his java refilled.
Chapter 11
Fellows won’t care that I left work early… right? Kadin shivered as she hurried down the deserted street. I need to get home on time and replace Octavira’s pumps if I want her to lend me her yellow dress for the drag on Saturday. Just my luck she bought the shoes at a store on the edge of Smoke Row.
Kadin wondered if the time wouldn’t be b
etter spent buying her own yellow dress, but between the poor chances of finding one this time of year and her inherent horror at spending money to add such a thing to her wardrobe, she decided the shoes were a more practical choice. Especially since this way I can get a pair in my size, too.
Kadin wrapped her arms around herself as much to protect herself from any would-be attackers in the worst part of the city as to ward off the autumn chill. She wrinkled her nose at the oily stench that permeated the street, appreciative that the neon graffiti on the grey stone walls was the only sign of life in the area.
The welcoming glow from the window of the shoe store caused Kadin to pick up her pace, and as soon as the bell above the door stopped dinging, Kadin rubbed her hands together, grateful for the warmth. She only needed a few minutes to select the two pairs of shoes, and within no time, she was back out on the street.
She glanced at her watch and swore under her breath. I’m going to be late. She glanced down an alley next to the shoe shop. She had never taken that street before, but theoretically it should get her to the autobus stop faster. Ah, well, she thought as she turned down the alley. If I get mugged and murdered, at least I won’t have to worry about what to wear to the drag.
She reached the end of the T-intersection. Right or left? Left, I think.
Even as she made up her mind to head toward the stop, her attention shifted to the right, as if compelled by some kind of sixth sense. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the buildings emit a blue haze. It’s just exhaust. This is Smoke Row, after all. But somehow she couldn’t stop herself from taking a few steps toward the building to examine it more closely.
It looked like any other abandoned store front on the street, with cracked glass windows that had faded gold writing in an arc across the top. Kadin squinted to make out the scratched-off calligraphy. M-A-G-I… Magic Shoppe!
Her breath caught, and she peered into the dusty window, looking for any sign of life in the building. She thought she saw a hint of light from the back, and this was enough for her to reach for the door handle.
What are you doing? the part of her that didn’t seem to control her body shouted. You need to go home. And if magic is real, you can’t mess with it. Dr. Combs said it was dangerous. And you’re not a real detective. You need to find a husband, not a murderer.
But her internal protestations did no good. She wanted—no, more like needed—to go inside. To find out what she could about what had killed Queen Callista. Or what so fascinated Duke Baurus. Or… She wasn’t sure she even had a real reason. She just knew if she walked away without at least trying to get more information, she would regret it.
The rusty hinges squeaked as she pulled open the door. She stepped over the threshold and coughed as thick air filled her lungs. The floorboards creaked as she inched forward, closer to the ancient wooden bookcases laden with musty tomes and odd-looking antiques. Kadin ran her fingers along the cracked spines of the leather-bound volumes, trying to sound out the foreign titles in the dim moonlight shining in through the grubby windows. Some of the words she recognized as Minskorian, Ruathalese, or Astrevian, but others bore strange pictographs she had never seen before.
On the other side of the room stood what had once been the shop’s main counter, if the ancient pewter cash register atop it was any indication. Something crusty had formed on the glass of the case in front, but she could still see tarnished necklaces, cufflinks, and snuff boxes laid atop faded beige velvet. She wondered if the objects possessed magic or if they were gimmicks to con those rich enough to pay more for an item that might have magic. Judging from the state of the shop, neither method had prompted much in the way of sales.
“Kadin Stone.”
Kadin jumped as a baritone voice spoke her name. She spun around and beheld a tall, thin man with grey-streaked red hair a few shades darker than hers stepping out of the shadows. The lines around his eyes and mouth placed him at about the age her parents would have been, had they not died more than fifteen years ago. He peered at her from over his wire-framed reading glasses with an expression she couldn’t quite place—a combination of satisfaction, resignation, and perhaps fear.
How did he know my name? Her mind spiraled, combining this man’s recognition with the feeling of need—or destiny—she had felt when she opened the door to the shop. Somehow the thought made her insides quiver, as if her whole life was about to change, and the feeling terrified her.
She shook herself back to reality. It’s some kind of parlor trick they play on customers. Trying to make buyers think the store is magic.
The man stepped closer, and the sole light in the room flickered, creating a pattern of shadows across his face. “My name is Daimon Gates. How may I help you, Miss Stone?”
Kadin swallowed, her mouth dry. “I-I wanted to know about magic.”
He stared at her until she turned her eyes from him to focus on a dusty phonograph in the corner. “So ask a mage,” he said.
Her gaze wandered across several jars on a shallow, backless set of shelves that looked as though they belonged in a mad scientist’s lab at the cinema. “I don’t know any mages. As I understand it, there aren’t any in Valeriel anymore.” She glanced back at him.
His face didn’t flicker, as if his deep-set brown eyes and slightly too-large nose were made of rock.
She took a deep breath. In and out. You have every right to be here. “Look, if you can’t help me, that’s fine. If you could point me to someone who can help, that would be even better.”
He looked her up and down, but not in the appreciative way men often did. He seemed to be evaluating her worth. “You don’t seem to be lying.” His body deflated in visible relief. “Maybe they aren’t back.”
“Pardon me?”
He straightened. “Nothing. Why are you here?”
Kadin felt a wave of irritation rise in her, and she decided to go with it. Anger seemed safer than her fear, which made her feel as if the floor was about to drop out from under her at any moment. “I work for Valeriel Investigations, and we are investigating a homicide that may have involved magic. I thought maybe someone here might know more than me about it. Which would be anything at all.”
He barked out a laugh. “You’re a detective? Investigating magic?”
“Well, a detective’s aide, actually…”
“Then you have no doubt heard the cautionary tale of Dexter Corkscrew.” His tone was caustic. “And in case you haven’t, I’ll sum up the moral. Detectives should stick to shootings, stranglings, and stabbings and leave magic alone. The Society does not react well to outside interference.”
The acid in his tone seemed to combine with that in her stomach, and they roiled together into a hard ball. “Right. I mean, I understand. But someone murdered the queen, and I don’t think the Imperials are going to let that go.”
Gates’s mouth dropped open, and Kadin realized what he had said. “Wait, the Society of Mages did do something to Dexter Corkscrew?” she asked at the same time that he asked, “You think someone murdered the queen with magic?”
She realized she had given him confidential information about the case. But it doesn’t matter. No one but me—and maybe Dr. Combs—thinks magic was involved. And no one would believe me as a source anyway.
He must have mistaken her silence for determination because he sighed. “You’d better come with me. This is going to take a while.”
I should go. I need to get home before Octavira gets upset, and I shouldn’t go anywhere with a man I don’t know in a place as creepy as this.
Almost without her approval, Kadin’s feet led her after Gates past the row of bookcases that looked as though they had not been touched, much less dusted, in at least ten years. Gates stopped in front of a door at the back of the store and glanced around, though what he thought might lurk in the shadows, Kadin didn’t
know. He pulled out an old-fashioned iron key and used it to open the door.
Gates had cleaned the room on the other side in the past year, possibly even in the past week. Or I suppose someone else could have done it. But somehow I don’t think he lets many other people into this room. She stopped that train of thought in its tracks and examined the room around her.
Bookcases full of leather-bound tomes in a variety of languages lined one wall, and glass display cases filled with common-place items sat along the other three. Like the room outside.
She would have known when he closed the door, even if she hadn’t heard it. She felt as though some outside force had choked her, even though she could still feel herself breathing.
She put a hand on her chest, to ensure herself that her lungs still worked. “What is this place?”
Gates studied each of the glass cases in turn. “This is the largest collection of magical items in Valeriel. Possibly the whole world.” He sat down in one of the red leather chairs in the center of the room and motioned that Kadin should sit opposite him.
Kadin sank into the chair, gaping at the items around her. These things are magic? Then what’s outside?
Gates ran his finger along the metal beads on the arm of his chair. “I have spent the last twenty-seven years acquiring magic objects and storing them here. This room itself is one of the first magical artifacts I came to own, one of the few that can be used by a non-mage. The room guards itself against intruders unless you have the proper key, and when the door is closed, it blocks all magical access to the outside. That is probably why you find it so discomfiting.”
Her head shot up. “I’m not a mage. Why would I feel magic?”
Catching a Man Page 13
