Hawk and Fisher

by Simon R. Green

  "Come on," said Hawk. "Let's go down and face the crowd in the parlor. Maybe we can get some answers out of them."

  "We might," said Fisher. "But I doubt it."

  They left the room, and Hawk pulled the door shut behind him. It wouldn't stay closed. Hawk looked at the splintered wood and the shattered lock, and wasn't surprised.

  "You always were efficient," said Fisher, smiling. "But if we can't lock the door, how are we going to keep people out?"

  "Beats me," said Hawk. "Ask them nicely? There's not a lot in the room in the way of real evidence, as far as I can tell… And any attempt to interfere with the scene of the crime would be a pretty good indication of guilt. So let's just leave the door open and see what happens."

  "I love it when you're devious," said Fisher.

  They chuckled quietly together, and made their way down the stairs and into the parlor. Hawk and Fisher paused a moment in the doorway, taking in the waiting suspects. The sorcerer Gaunt stood at the rear of the room by the main table. His face was calm, but his eyes were dark and brooding. Katherine Blackstone was still sitting in her chair by the empty fireplace. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and she had a tired, defeated look. Bowman stood beside her. His face was calm and controlled, as always. The Lord and Lady Hightower stood together by the buffet table. Their backs were straight and their heads erect, and they stood protectively close to each other. Hawk looked at the Lady Elaine's hands. They were held tightly together, the knuckles white from the pressure, as though to stop them trembling. Anger? Or fear? Not far away, Dorimant was helping himself to another glass of the fruit cordial. His normally ruddy face was pale and strained, and his hands were unsteady. The witch Visage stood beside him. She looked lost and frightened and very young. As Hawk watched, Dorimant put his arm around the witch's shoulders. Visage leaned against him gratefully, as though all the strength had gone out of her. Adam Stalker stood alone in the middle of the room. He glared impatiently at Hawk and Fisher as they stood in the doorway.

  "Well?" he said finally. "What's happened? And why have we been kept waiting all this time?"

  "Councilor Blackstone is dead," said Hawk quietly. He waited a moment, but no one said anything. Hawk walked forward into the parlor with Fisher at his side, and Stalker reluctantly gave way to allow them to take up the center position. Hawk looked slowly about him, to be sure he had everyone's attention, and then continued. "William Blackstone was stabbed to death, in his room. So far, we have no clues as to the identity of the killer. At my request, the sorcerer Gaunt has sealed off the house with an isolation spell. No one can get in or out."

  The guests stirred uneasily, but still nobody said anything. For a moment, Hawk thought Hightower might. His face had lost all its color, and his hands had clenched into fists. But the moment passed, and Hightower remained silent. Hawk took a deep breath, and continued.

  "Now, as Guards, my partner and I are required to question you each in turn, to help build up a picture of what was happening at the time of the killing. In the meantime, of course, no one is to go near the body."

  "Wait a minute," said Bowman. "Question us? Are you saying you think one of us is the killer?"

  "Ridiculous!" snapped Hightower. "And I'm damned if I'm answering any questions from a jumped-up Guard!"

  "Refusal to assist us in our inquiries is in itself a crime," said Fisher calmly. "I'm sure you all know the penalties for obstructing the Guard in the performance of their duty."

  "You wouldn't dare…" said Hightower.

  "Wouldn't I?" said Hawk. He locked eyes with Hightower, and Hightower was the first to look away. Stalker stepped forward.

  "I've had experience with murders before, Captain. If I can help in any way, you have only to ask."

  "Thank you, sir Stalker," said Hawk politely. "I'll bear that in mind." He turned to Gaunt. "Sir sorcerer, is there a room my partner and I can use to talk privately with your guests?"

  "Of course, Captain. There's my library; it's just across the hall."

  The library proved to be a small, cosy room directly opposite the parlor. Gaunt ushered Hawk and Fisher in, and lit two of the library's oil lamps with a wave of his hand. All four of the walls were lined with bookshelves, each packed with books of various shapes and sizes. The books were stacked neatly, though apparently according to size and shape as much as contents. There were two comfortable-looking chairs by the empty fireplace, and two other doors, one to the left and one to the right.

  "Where do they lead?" said Hawk, indicating the doors.

  "The door to your right leads to the kitchen," said Gaunt. "The door to your left leads to my private laboratory. That door is locked and shielded at all times."

  "Fine," said Hawk. "This room should do nicely. I think we'll make a start with you, sir Gaunt, if it's convenient."

  "Of course," said Gaunt. "But we'll need another chair." He gestured sharply, and the library door swung open. A chair came sliding out of the parlor. It crossed the hall and entered the library, and the door swung shut behind it. Gaunt carefully positioned the chair before the empty fireplace and sat down. Hawk and Fisher pulled up the other two chairs, and sat facing him.

  "That was very impressive," said Hawk.

  "Not really," said Gaunt. "Well, what do we do now? I've never been involved in a murder investigation before. What kind of things do you need to ask me?"

  "Nothing too difficult," said Hawk. "To start with, do you recognize this key?" He nodded to Fisher, who dug the key out of her pocket and handed it to Gaunt. The sorcerer looked at the key, and then turned it over in his hand a few times.

  "It looks like one of mine. Is it the key to William's room?"

  "That's what we want to know."

  Gaunt shrugged. "All the keys look the same to me. Since I live on my own most of the time, I don't have much use for the upstairs rooms. Usually I keep all my keys on one ring, in the right order so that I can tell them apart. And now they've all been split up… Still, it shouldn't be too difficult to work out which key it is. Where did you find it?"

  "In Blackstone's room," said Fisher. "On the floor, not far from the door."

  Gaunt looked at Hawk. "Then why ask me if this is William's key?"

  "Because in a case like this we need to be very sure of our facts," said Hawk. "You can never tell what's going to turn out to be significant. Please let me know when you're sure that's Blackstone's key. Now, sir Gaunt, what did you do earlier this evening, after your guests had gone upstairs to change?"

  "I went into the kitchen," said Gaunt. "The meal was almost ready. All I had to do was pour the soup into the bowls, and baste the meat one last time. I did that, and then I thought I'd better check that the table was ready. I walked out into the hall, and that was when I sensed the murder."

  Fisher leaned forward in her chair. "You sensed the murder?"

  "Oh, yes," said Gaunt. "I didn't know what it was at the time. I just felt a disturbance in the house, as though something terrible had happened. I ran upstairs to check that my guests were all right, and that's when I found you preparing to cut down my door with an axe. You know the rest."

  "Yes," said Hawk thoughtfully. "Tell me, sir Gaunt, could anyone use a teleport spell in this house without you knowing?"

  "A teleport? Certainly not. Such spells take a great deal of power and skill to bring off correctly. One small mistake in the arrival coordinates, and you'd have a very nasty accident. I can see what you're getting at. Captain Hawk, but there's no way the assassin could have teleported into William's room and out again. I have wards set up all over the house to prevent just such a thing. I have my enemies too, you know. Even I couldn't teleport in this house, without first dismantling the wards."

  "I see," said Hawk. "Perhaps we should discuss Councilor Blackstone's enemies. It's common knowledge he was unpopular in some quarters, but can you suggest any names? Especially anyone who would profit by his death."

  "There's no one in particular," said Gaunt, frowning. "Th
ere are any number of people in Haven who'll breathe easier, knowing that William is dead, but I can't think of anyone insane enough to murder William in my house. They must have known that I would take this as a personal insult."

  "I see your point," said Hawk dryly.

  "There is one thing," said Gaunt, and then he hesitated. Hawk waited patiently. Gaunt looked at him steadily. "I really don't know if this is at all relevant. I feel rather foolish even mentioning it, but… William had an argument recently, with Adam Stalker. I don't know what it was about, but it must have been serious. They've hardly spoken to each other for weeks."

  "You did the right thing in telling us," said Hawk. "I shouldn't think it means anything, but we'll check it out, just in case. I think that's all for the moment, sir Gaunt. You can rejoin the others in the parlor now. And tell the witch Visage we'd like to see her next."

  "Of course," said Gaunt. "I'll send her in." He got to his feet and crossed to the door. It swung open before him, and then he hesitated in the doorway and looked back at Hawk. "What should I do about dinner?"

  "Serve it if you like," said Fisher. "But I think you'll find most people have lost their appetite."

  Gaunt nodded, and left. The door swung shut behind him. Hawk looked at Fisher.

  "How am I doing?"

  "Not bad," said Fisher. "Just the right mix of authority and politeness. Do you believe him about the anti-teleport wards?"

  "Makes sense to me," said Hawk. "Every sorcerer has enemies. And again, it's something we can check with Visage. If there are such wards in the house, she should be able to detect them."

  "Good point. Now, what about the keys? Gaunt said there were no duplicates, but he could be lying. If he did have a duplicate, he could easily have let himself in, killed Blackstone, and left again, locking the door after him."

  "No," said Hawk firmly. "I don't buy that. It's too obvious."

  "So what? Look, there's already one hole in his story. He said that during the time of the murder he left the parlor with the guests and went into the kitchen. He poured out the soup and basted the meat, and then had his premonition about Blackstone's death. It doesn't add up, Hawk. Between everyone leaving the parlor and us breaking the door down, there had to have been at least fifteen to twenty minutes. I remember looking at the clock in the parlor. Now, it doesn't take that long to pour out some soup and baste a joint of meat. So what else was he doing?"

  "Another good point," said Hawk. "But I still can't see Gaunt as the murderer. If he'd wanted to kill Blackstone, surely he would have found a more subtle way than to stab the man under his own roof. Remember the Hook? Two hundred and forty-seven dead, and nothing to connect any of them with Gaunt. The forensic magicians couldn't find a single shred of evidence against him, and it wasn't for want of trying. I think he injured their pride."

  "All right, I see what you mean." Fisher stirred uneasily in her chair. "But it could just be misdirection, so that we wouldn't suspect him. Remember how Gaunt used his magic to move that chair without touching it? Perhaps he could use a knife the same way. Or open a lock, just as he opened and shut that door, just by looking at it. If by some chance we find proof that Gaunt is the murderer, we'd better watch ourselves. If we start getting too close to the truth, he might decide to do something subtle about us."

  "Great," said Hawk. "Just great. This case is getting more fun by the minute."

  There was a hesitant knock at the door, and then the witch Visage came in. She shut the door quietly behind her and looked uncertainly from Hawk to Fisher. Hawk nodded at the empty chair, and Visage sank into it. Her face was still deathly pale, and she kept her eyes modestly downcast. Fisher looked at Hawk, who nodded slightly.

  "We need to ask you some questions," said Fisher.

  "Yes," said Visage. Her voice was little more than a whisper.

  "Where were you when Blackstone was killed?" said Fisher bluntly.

  "In my room, I suppose. I don't know exactly when William died."

  "Gaunt said he sensed the killing," said Hawk. "Are you saying you didn't feel anything?"

  "Yes," said Visage. She raised her head and met his gaze for the first time. "Gaunt is much more powerful than I'll ever be. He's a sorcerer."

  "All right, so you were in your room," said Fisher. "Did anyone see you there?"

  "No. I was alone."

  "So you can't prove you were in your room."

  "No."

  "Earlier this evening you said you knew why Katherine Blackstone was acting strangely," said Hawk. "But you didn't get around to telling us then. Tell us now."

  "Why don't you ask Bowman?" said Visage.

  Hawk and Fisher glanced quickly at each other.

  "Why Bowman?" said Hawk.

  Visage smiled slightly. Her green eyes were very cold. "You must have seen him and Katherine together. They're not exactly subtle about it."

  "They do seem very friendly," said Fisher.

  "They've been lovers for at least six months," said Visage flatly. "That's why she's always laughing and smiling. She's found another fool."

  "Did Blackstone know?" asked Hawk.

  "I don't think so. William could be very good at not seeing things he didn't want to."

  Hawk frowned thoughtfully. "How long have you been working for Blackstone?"

  "Four, five years. Since his first campaign in the Heights area. I protected him from magical threats. He's always had enemies. Good men always do."

  "You gave him the amulet he wore?"

  "Yes. As long as he wore it, no magic could harm him."

  "You mentioned enemies," said Fisher. "Can you give us any names?"

  Visage shook her head firmly. "William wasn't killed by an assassin. The only people in this house are Gaunt, his guests, and you. There is no one else. I'd have known."

  "Are you sure?" said Hawk.

  "Yes. At least…" Visage frowned slightly. "There is a part of this house that is closed to me. I can't see into it."

  "Where?" said Fisher, leaning forward.

  Visage looked at the left-hand door. "Gaunt's laboratory. It's surrounded by a very powerful shield. He's always been very jealous of his secrets."

  "Could someone be hiding in there?" asked Hawk.

  Visage shook her head. "No one could have left that room without my knowing about it."

  "Then why mention the room?" said Fisher.

  "Because it disturbs me," said Visage.

  For a while no one said anything. Visage's words seemed to hang on the air. Hawk cleared his throat.

  "Gaunt said this house was warded against teleport spells. Is that true?"

  Visage nodded soberly. "Of course. It was one of the first things I checked for when I entered the house. It's not unusual; all sorcerers have such protections. Why are you wasting time with all these questions? Edward Bowman killed William. Isn't it obvious? Bowman wanted Katherine, and they both knew William would never agree to a divorce. It would have destroyed his political career."

  "That's an interesting theory," said Hawk, "but we can't arrest a man without some kind of proof. For the time being, everyone is equally suspect."

  "Including me?"

  "Yes."

  "I could never have harmed William," said Visage flatly.

  Hawk studied her thoughtfully. "Earlier on, I saw Gaunt bring a chair into this room by magic. He just looked at it, and it moved. Could he have manipulated a knife in the same way?"

  "Through a locked door, you mean?" Visage shook her head. "That kind of magic is simple enough, but it needs eye contact with the object to be moved."

  "All right," said Hawk, "could he have used that magic to pick the lock?"

  "No. There are wards in this house to prevent such tamperings."

  "Of course," said Hawk. "There would be. Damn."

  "I think that's all, for the moment," said Fisher. "Please wait in the parlor, and ask Bowman to come in next."

  Visage sat where she was, and looked hotly at Hawk and Fisher. "You're n
ot going to do anything, are you? Bowman's too important. He has influence. I'm warning you; I won't let him get away with this. I'll kill him first!"

  She jumped to her feet and hurried out of the library, slamming the door behind her. Fisher raised an eyebrow.

  "If she's prepared to kill one man, she might have killed another.'

  "Right," said Hawk. "There's a fire burning under that cool and quiet surface. She was obviously very fond of Blackstone… Maybe she was having an affair with him. It went sour—perhaps she wanted him to divorce his wife and marry her and he refused—so she killed him for revenge. Or maybe she wanted an affair and he didn't, so she killed him out of injured pride."

  "That's reaching a bit, isn't it?" said Fisher.

  Hawk shrugged. "This early in the game, how can we tell?"

  "No," said Fisher. "It still doesn't feel right. If there were hard feelings between Blackstone and Visage, he'd hardly have kept her on as his bodyguard, would he? I mean, that's what her job amounted to. And anyway. Visage is a witch; if she wanted to kill someone, she wouldn't need a knife to do it… Unless she was trying to be misleading…"

  "I think we've had this conversation before," said Hawk dryly.

  The door opened, and Bowman came in. He smiled briefly, and sat down in the empty chair without waiting to be asked. Hawk frowned slightly. For a man whose friend and employer had just been murdered. Bowman looked very composed. But then, he always did.

  "You were Blackstone's right-hand man," said Fisher.

  "That's right," said Bowman pleasantly.

  "Would you mind telling us where you were at the time of the murder?"

  "I was in my room. Changing for dinner."

  "Can anyone verify that?" asked Hawk. Bowman looked at him steadily.

  "No."

  "So you don't really have an alibi?"

  Bowman smiled. "Do I need one?"

  "How long have you known William Blackstone?" asked Fisher.

  "Seven, eight years."

  "How long have you known Katherine Blackstone?" asked Hawk.

  "About the same," said Bowman.

  Hawk and Fisher looked at him silently, but his pleasant smile didn't waver. The silence dragged on.