Hawk & Fisher h&f-1

by Simon R. Green

  "Grabbing at straws," growled Lord Hightower.

  "If the murderer isn't one of us, then he must be hiding somewhere in the house," said Dorimant. "It's the only explanation!"

  "There's no one else here!" snapped Fisher. "Hawk and I have been through every room, and there isn't a hiding place we haven't checked. There's no one here but us."

  "Exactly," said Gaunt. "My wards are up and secure. No one could have got in without my knowing about it, and they certainly couldn't have moved about the house without setting off a dozen security spells. There can't be anyone else here!"

  "All right then, maybe the truthspell was defective!" said Hawk. "That's the only other answer I can see!"

  "I am not in the habit of casting defective spells," said Gaunt coldly. "My truthspell was effective, while it lasted."

  Fisher looked at him quickly. "While it lasted? You mean it's over? I thought we had twenty-five minutes."

  Gaunt shrugged. "The more people involved, the greater the strain on the spell. It's over now."

  "Can you cast another?" asked Dorimant.

  "Certainly," said Gaunt. "But not for another twenty-four hours."

  "Great," said Hawk. "Just great."

  "All right," said Stalker. "What do we do now?"

  "There is one place we didn't check as thoroughly as the others," said Fisher suddenly. "The kitchen."

  Hawk shrugged. "You saw for yourself; there wasn't anywhere to hide."

  "I think we ought to check it anyway. Just to be sure."

  Hawk looked at Gaunt, who shrugged. Hawk sighed and got to his feet. "All right, Fisher, let's take another look." She nodded, and got to her feet. Hawk glared round at the guests. "Everyone else, stay here; that's an order. I don't want anyone leaving this room till we get back. Come on Fisher."

  They left the parlor and went out into the hall, closing the door behind them. Gaunt and his guests sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts. After a while, Visage stirred uncomfortably in her chair, then rose suddenly to her feet.

  "I really think we should stay here," said Gaunt. "It would be safer."

  "I have to go to the bathroom," said Visage quietly, her cheeks crimson. "And no, I can't wait."

  "I don't think you should go off on your own," said Dorimant.

  "Quite right," said Lord Hightower. He turned to his wife. "Why don't you and I go up with her? Just to keep her company, so to speak?"

  "Of course," said Lady Elaine. "You don't mind, do you, dear?"

  Visage smiled, and shook her head. "I think I'd feel a lot safer, knowing I wasn't on my own."

  "Don't be too long," said Gaunt. "We don't want to upset Captain Hawk, do we?"

  Lord Hightower snorted loudly, but said nothing. He and his wife got to their feet and followed Visage out of the parlor. Dorimant stirred uncertainly in his chair. He would have liked to go with her too, to be sure she was safe, but the poor girl wouldn't want a crowd following her to the toilet. Besides, the Hightowers would look after her. Dorimant sank back in his chair and tried to think about something else. He felt a little better, now that Hawk and Fisher knew about the evidence he'd been concealing. Even if it didn't seem to have helped much. He glanced surreptitiously at Katherine. How could she have done it? To kneel beside her dead husband, and drive his own dagger into his chest; Dorimant shuddered.

  "The wineglass worries me," he said finally. "If the wine wasn't poisoned;"

  "It wasn't," said Gaunt flatly. "I tasted some myself."

  "The wine;" said Katherine suddenly. Everyone looked at her. Katherine looked into the empty fireplace, frowning. "William didn't drink much, even at private parties. It was a rule of his. He'd already told me he'd had enough for one evening; but he had a fresh glass of wine in his hand when he went upstairs to change. So who gave him that glass; ?"

  "I don't remember," said Dorimant. "I wasn't really watching." He looked at the others, and they all shook their heads.

  "I'm sure I saw who it was," said Katherine, frowning. "But I can't remember; I can't;"

  "Take it easy," said Stalker. "It'll come to you, if you don't try and force it."

  "It's probably not that important anyway," said Dorimant.

  Hawk and Fisher checked the kitchen thoroughly from top to bottom, and found nothing and no one. There were no hidden passages, no hiding places, and nothing that looked even remotely suspicious. Not that they'd expected to find anything. Hawk and Fisher had just needed an excuse to go off on their own so that they could talk in private. They leaned back against the sink and looked gloomily about them.

  "Hightower was right," said Fisher. "Much as I hate to admit it. The truthspell didn't get us anywhere. The new angle on Blackstone's death is all very interesting, but we're still no nearer finding his killer."

  "Maybe," said Hawk, "and maybe not. I wouldn't know a clue if I fell over it, but I know a guilty face when I see one. Hightower's hiding something. He was jumpy as hell when he first discovered we were all stuck here for the night, and he was almost in a panic at the thought of a truthspell. There was something he didn't want to talk about;"

  "You didn't ask him many questions," said Fisher.

  "He wouldn't have answered them if I had."

  "We could have leaned on him."

  Hawk smiled. "Do you honestly think we could make Lord Roderik Hightower say one damned thing he didn't want to?"

  Fisher smiled reluctantly. "I see your point. Besides, there's no actual evidence that whatever's worrying him has anything to do with the murders. Old soldiers and politicians always have something to hide. After all, you asked him if he killed Blackstone and Bowman, and he said no. Didn't even hesitate."

  Hawk scowled, thinking. "How do we know Gaunt actually cast a truthspell? Maybe; No. No, it worked all right; I tested it myself."

  "Maybe he only cast it on you," said Fisher.

  "Maybe. And maybe we're both getting paranoid."

  "There is that."

  "Let's get back to the parlor," said Hawk. "I don't like leaving them alone too long. I'll hit them with some more questions; try and break someone's story. High tower's hiding something. I'd stake my career on it."

  "We are," said Fisher dryly. "We are."

  Visage waited alone on the landing, not far from the bathroom door. The Lady Elaine was taking her turn in the bathroom, while Lord Roderik had gone back to his room to change into more suitable clothes. The landing was still lit by only the one lamp, and the shadows seemed very dark. Visage glanced nervously about her. She wished the Lord and Lady would hurry up.

  She shivered suddenly, and wrapped her arms around her. The house was still full of the sweltering summer heat, but Visage kept finding cold spots. She bit her lip and frowned unhappily. She didn't like Gaunt's house. She hadn't liked it from the moment she first crossed the threshold, but now she knew why. The DeFerriers might be dead and gone, but their house still held dark memories locked into its stone and timber. It was hard to think of a man like Stalker being a DeFerrier, but she didn't doubt it for a minute. Despite all the songs and legends, and even though he was always studiously polite to her, she'd never warmed to him. Visage had never known what William saw in him. She'd never liked Stalker. He had cold eyes.

  She looked along the landing to what had been William's door. Poor William. He'd had such hopes, such dreams; And poor Edward had died right there on the landing, at the top of the stairs. She looked at the ragged bloodstains on the carpet, and then looked away. She felt sorry for Edward, now he was gone. She shouldn't have said those awful things about him. They were all true, but she shouldn't have said them.

  She heard footsteps behind her and turned, smiling, expecting to see Lord Roderik. Her smile faltered.

  "I'm sorry," said the low, growling voice, "but you could tell them what I am. I can't allow that. I'm so sorry, Visage."

  Visage started to back away, and stammered out the first few words of a defensive spell, but there wasn't enough time. Something awful surged
out of the shadows towards her, and blood flew on the still, hot air.

  Hawk and Fisher pounded up the stairs to the landing, cold steel in their hands. The screams they'd heard had already stopped, and hawk had a sick feeling that he was going to be too late again.

  Not another one. Please, not another one.

  He stopped suddenly at the top of the steps, and Fisher bumped into him from behind. "The witch Visage lay face down in the middle of the landing. Hawk moved cautiously forward, Fisher at his side. They looked quickly about them, but there was no sign of the attacker. Hawk knelt down beside Visage while Fisher stood guard. There was blood all around the witch's body. Hawk took a handful of her hair and gently lifted her head. Visage's eyes were wide and staring. Her throat had been torn out. Hawk lowered her face back onto the bloody carpet.

  "And that's three," he said tiredly. "We've lost another one."

  "You should be getting used to that by now," said Lord Hightower.

  Hawk and Fisher straightened up quickly to find Hightower watching them from the door to his room. Hawk opened his mouth to say something, and then stopped as he heard a faint creaking sound behind him. He and Fisher spun round, weapons at the ready, to find Lady Elaine watching from the bathroom door. Her face was pale and shocked. She moved slowly forward to stand with her husband, her eyes never leaving Visage's body.

  "What the hell were you all doing up here?" yelled Hawk, lowering his axe. "I told you to stay in the bloody parlor!"

  "The witch had to go to the bathroom," said Hightower stiffly. "We came with her to protect her."

  "Didn't do a very good job," said Fisher. "Did you?"

  "Where were you when Visage died?" said Hawk.

  "I was in the bathroom," said Lady Elaine.

  "I was in my room, changing," said Lord Roderik.

  Hawk stared at them incredulously. "You left her out here on her own?"

  "It was only for a moment," said Hightower.

  There were footsteps behind them, and then Dorimant came forward to kneel beside Visage's body. He reached out a hand to touch her face, and his fingers came back flecked with blood.

  "She was so frightened," he said softly. "I told her there was nothing to worry about. I told her I'd look after her, and she trusted me."

  Hawk looked past Dorimant. Gaunt and Stalker were standing together at the top of the stairs. Hawk glared about him.

  "Where the hell were you all? What took you so long to get here?"

  Nobody said anything. They looked away rather than meet his gaze, but Hawk had already seen the answer in their faces. No one had wanted to be first on the scene, for fear of being accused.

  You and your partner have a reputation for violence;

  "Did any of you see anything?" asked Hawk. "Did anyone hear anything?"

  "Only her screams," said Stalker. "I knew we shouldn't have let her go, but we all thought she'd be safe with the Hightowers."

  "You left her alone," said Dorimant. He raised his head slowly and looked at Lord Hightower. "She was afraid, and you went off and left her alone in the dark. You bastard."

  He threw himself at Hightower, and they fell heavily to the floor. Dorimant flailed away wildly with his fists, and then got his hands round Hightower's throat. Lord Roderik choked and gagged, tearing at Dorimant's hands. Hawk started forward, and then Hightower braced himself and flung Dorimant away. He flew backwards, and slammed up against the opposite wall. Hawk and Fisher got to him before he could go after Hightower again.

  "That's enough!" said Hawk sharply. "I know how you feel, but that's enough."

  Dorimant started to cry. His whole body shook from the force of the racking sobs. Fisher patted him on the shoulder, but he didn't even feel it. Hawk shook his head slowly.

  What a mess;

  Hightower got to his feet, with his wife's help, and fingered his throat gingerly. "Well?" he said loudly. "Aren't you going to arrest him? He assaulted me. I have witnesses."

  "Shut your face," said Hawk. "He only beat me to it by a couple of seconds." He turned his back on Hightower, and then looked about him. "Wait a minute; where's Katherine?"

  Everyone looked around, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  Gaunt frowned. "She was with us in the parlor when we heard the screams. I thought she was right behind us."

  Hawk's breath caught in his throat. He turned and ran back down the stairs, Fisher close behind him. He charged down the hall, kicked open the parlor door, and then skidded to a halt just inside the door. Katherine Blackstone was sitting in her chair by the empty fireplace, just as he'd last seen her. Only now there was a knife sunk deep into her chest, the hilt protruding between her breasts. The front of her dress was soaked with blood. Her head was sunk forward, and her staring eyes saw nothing, nothing at all.

  Chapter Six

  KILLER'S RAGE

  Hawk glared furiously about him, but there was no trace of any attacker. Fisher moved forward and bent over Katherine. She checked briefly for a pulse, and then looked back at Hawk and shook her head. Hawk cursed softly. There was a clatter of feet outside in the hall, and Hawk turned quickly to face the door.

  "That's close enough!" he said tightly. "Stand where you are."

  Gaunt and his guests stumbled to a halt as they took in the gleaming steel axe held at the ready in Hawk's hand.

  "What is it?" said Gaunt. "What's happened?"

  "Katherine Blackstone is dead," said Hawk. "Murdered. I want all of you to come into the parlor slowly and in single file, keeping your hands where I can see them."

  "Who the hell do you think you're talking to;" began the Lady Elaine.

  "Shut up and move," said Hawk.

  Lady Elaine took in his cold, determined face and did as she was told. The others followed her into the parlor, giving Hawk and his axe as wide a berth as possible. Hawk backed slowly away as they filed into the parlor. There was a horrified murmur as they saw Katherine's body.

  "She can't have been killed," said Hightower faintly. "It's just not possible."

  "Is that right?" said Fisher. "I suppose she committed suicide too?"

  "But how could the killer have got down from the landing without anyone seeing him?" said Gaunt. "No one passed us on the stairs, and there's no other way down. Katherine was perfectly all right when we went running out of the parlor to investigate Visage's screams."

  "Nevertheless," said Hawk, "she's still dead."

  "Maybe she did commit suicide," said Stalker suddenly. "Her husband and her lover had both been killed;"

  "No," said Dorimant flatly. "Katherine wasn't like that. She was a fighter; always had been. Once she got over the shock of Edward's death, all she could think of was revenge. She'd already started working on how William could have been killed;" He broke off, and looked a little confused. He put a hand to his forehead and swayed slightly on his feet. "Do you think I could sit down, Captain Hawk? I feel a little; upset."

  "All right," said Hawk. "Everybody find a chair and sit down, but keep your hands in plain sight. Sir Stalker, lay your sword down on the floor by your feet, and don't touch it again until I tell you to."

  Stalker studied him carefully a moment, and then nodded and followed Hawk's instructions. Fisher watched unblinkingly until Stalker was sitting in his chair with his sword at his feet, and only then lowered her sword. Stalker didn't even look in her direction. Soon everyone except Hawk and Fisher had found themselves a chair. The two Guards stood on either side of Katherine Blackstone.

  "All right," said Hawk. "Let me see if I've got this straight. Lord and Lady Hightower were up on the landing with Visage. Stalker, Gaunt, Dorimant, and Katherine were all down here in the parlor. The Lady Elaine went into the bathroom. Lord Hightower went into his bedroom, and Visage was left alone on the landing. Shortly afterwards, she was attacked and killed. Fisher and I heard her screams just as we were leaving the kitchen. We ran up the stairs to find Visage already dead, and her attacker gone. Lord and Lady Hightower c
ame out onto the landing to see what had happened, and those in the parlor came running out into the hall. While they were leaving the parlor, or shortly afterward, Katherine was stabbed to death."

  "We must have missed something," said Fisher. "Put like that, the two murders couldn't have happened. It just wasn't possible."

  "It has to be possible!" Hawk hefted his axe angrily. "I don't believe this. Four people have been murdered, in a house full of witnesses, and nobody sees anything!"

  He glared round at Gaunt and his guests, and then turned disgustedly away to look at Katherine. He frowned slightly. He'd thought at first that she might have been stabbed somewhere else and then brought back and dumped in her chair, but while the front of her dress was soaked with blood, there were no bloodstains to be seen anywhere else. So, the killer must have struck no more than a few seconds after the others had left the parlor; Hawk scowled. It was possible. Everyone had been so intent on what was happening on the landing that they wouldn't have noticed someone sneaking into the parlor. But how the hell had the killer got down from the landing to the hall? Hawk shook his head and leaned over Katherine to get a closer look at the dagger that had killed her. The hilt jutted obscenely from between her breasts. Hawk noted that the blow had been struck with professional skill; just under the sternum and straight into the heart. The hilt itself was a standard metal grip wrapped in leather, with nothing to distinguish it from a thousand others just like it. Hawk straightened up and turned reluctantly back to the sorcerer and his guests.

  "Some of you must have seen something, even if you don't recognize it. Have any of you seen or heard anything out of the ordinary, no matter how silly or trivial it may sound?"

  There was a long silence as they all looked at each other, and then Stalker stirred thoughtfully.

  "It could be nothing," he said slowly, "but up on the landing I could have sworn I smelt something."

  "You smelt something?" said Hawk. "What did it smell like?"

  "I don't know. It was a musky, animal smell."

  Fisher nodded slowly. "Visage said she smelt something earlier on, just after Bowman's death. She wasn't sure what it was."