Murdock grinned at me. “Or he could be hiding from someone trying to kill him.”
The idea played around in my mind. If Druse was looking for her stone, why would she be looking for a specific person? “Banjo said someone was offering big money for information about dwarves who have been here a long time.”
“The leanansidhe didn’t exactly live in the lap of luxury,” he said.
“Don’t let that fool you. Lots of fey have a ton of cash they don’t know what to do with. They tend to buy real estate, then build a one-room house on it. It’s a cultural thing, different values out of Faerie. It’s why goats and cows show up in the Weird sometimes.”
Murdock tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as the traffic slowed. “Thekk Veinseeker’s been in Boston at least since the 1920s. It was in the arson file.”
“His brother was probably here then, too,” I said.
“Okay. Assume the leanansidhe has the money and has been in Boston as long as Veinseeker. What can he do important enough for her to kill?” Murdock asked.
“I don’t think ‘important’ is the right word. We’re talking about a person for whom killing is a way of life. It’s not important to her. She might be looking for Nar, taking essence as a matter of course, and the deaths are collateral,” I said.
“What if I talk this up the chain of command? We’re not equipped to handle this. It’s exactly the situation the Guild should handle,” he said.
“The Guild is not going to do anything in the Weird that looks like it’s helping Eorla. Same old, same old, Leo. Just the faces change,” I said.
“So the deaths don’t matter. Nice. The leanansidhe wants the stone, and she wants Nar. What’s the connection?” he asked.
“Dwarves are stone fey. They create excellent wards. Maybe she wants him to make her a new one,” I said.
“Then why is he in hiding? He’s got to know that two of his former associates are dead, and his brother’s warehouse went up. Why doesn’t he take the deal?” he asked.
I slumped farther into the seat. “Maybe because there’s always a price to be paid when dealing with a leanansidhe.”
19
Thekk Veinseeker’s house was in a quiet neighborhood in West Quincy, hard by the Blue Hills State Park. Old granite quarries in the area had once produced stone for buildings throughout New England. A number of dwarf families had set up mining-related businesses nearby and lived in the nicer neighborhoods. The quarries were closed these days, but the dwarves who had made homes in the area remained.
Murdock pulled into the driveway and parked near several other cars. Contrary to popular belief, dwarves didn’t mind daylight. They did prefer being underground whenever possible, and the architecture of their homes reflected that. A well-maintained garden surrounded several ornately carved stone outbuildings no more than ten or twenty feet square. The outbuildings weren’t the house itself but the aboveground evidence of one. Some had doors, but most were windowed to let light into the house below. Landscapers were replacing some broken shrubbery. The structure they had been next to had scorch marks on the side that another group of workers were scrubbing.
Murdock rang the bell. A pale blond kobold no taller than my shoulder answered, a faintly suspicious look on her face. “Yes?”
“Detective Lieutenant Murdock to see Thekk Veinseeker.”
Her placid gaze swept over us, then she closed the door. Confused, Murdock looked at me. “Kobolds are not big on social graces. Let’s give it a few minutes,” I said.
It was a few minutes. The kobold returned and ushered us in. Inside, the granite structure was nothing more than the top landing of a wide marble staircase. The kobold led us down without speaking. I’d been in a few dwarven homes, but this one was more elaborate than any I had seen. The construction was all stone—slates, marbles, and granites—richly carved to resemble wood. I never understood the affinity for nature carvings that dwarves preferred yet avoided in day-to-day life. They liked to look at it but not be in it.
At the foot of the stairs, a wide round entry hall served as the junction for several corridors leading off into dimness. The kobold headed straight across the mosaic floor to the archway opposite and directed us through an open door.
I had a hard time pinning the room down. It was a study or an office or a receiving room. Ornate ribs of granite crisscrossed the ceiling in a series of vaults. Deep red stone latticework filled wall panels between black-veined mustardcolored pilasters. Intricate marble tiles turned the floor into a tapestry of geometric designs. A long narrow slab of granite rested on ebony legs that resembled a wolf’s. Shafts of sunlight filtered down from the ceiling at the far end of the room, backlighting the dwarf seated on a large chair carved with woven vines. Two fireplaces flanked the table, tall enough for us to stand in. Fires burned in both, taking the edge off the cool air of the underground chamber. Something felt familiar about the place, but, despite the patchy spots in my memory, I doubted I had ever been in the room.
“Subtle,” Murdock said out of the corner of his mouth.
Thekk Veinseeker wore a short quilted jacket of orange silk with dusty yellow pearls sewn into whorls of gold thread, a casual version of the florid outfits that rich dwarves favored. His large, blunt face jarred in contrast, hard lined with thick black eyebrows and bowl-cut hair the color of iron. “How may I be of service, gentlemen?”
“We’re here about your brother. I’m Detective Lieutenant Murdock. This is my associate, Connor Grey,” Leo said.
Thekk didn’t move. “Which brother?”
“Nar,” Murdock said.
“I have no such brother,” Thekk said.
Murdock and I exchanged glances. “I don’t think I made a mistake, sir,” Murdock said. “Our records indicate Nar Veinseeker was your brother. I’ve seen his name mentioned in relation to your quarry business.”
Thekk made a face as if Murdock had suggested something perverse. “Nar is no longer part of the clan.”
The only thing dwarves held closer to their hearts than profits was family. Extended family grouped into clans and lived as near to each other as possible. They knew each other, knew their businesses and their secrets. “How can he not be a part of the clan if he was your brother?” I asked.
A thin trickle of essence floated through the room as Thekk stared into the fire. Disturbed, the dark mass pulsed in my head. Thekk was scrying, using the flames to sort through possible future events. “Can you not do that, please? It’s interfering with . . .” I paused. He didn’t need to know my personal issues. “. . . It’s making my body shields activate in an uncomfortable manner.”
Thekk grunted in surprise, and the scrying field collapsed. “My apologies, good druid. I am a poor host.”
“No problem. We were hoping you might tell us if Nar had enemies,” I said.
Thekk pushed out of the chair and strode toward one of the fireplaces. “I’m sure he has many. It is not a subject of study for me.”
“Why isn’t he part of the clan anymore?”
Thekk moved away from the hearth. “He chose profit over his family.”
“And the clan booted him out?” Murdock asked.
“There is no shame in making profit. Nar made his by betraying the clan and refused to tithe as recompense,” said Thekk.
We were moving into cultural territory I didn’t know well. Dwarves valued loyalty to each other. Other people didn’t rate high on their list of concerns, but a member being rejected by the clan had to be about something major. “What was the deal about?”
Thekk rubbed his hand along the edge of the granite slab. “It was so long ago, good druid. I don’t recall. It no longer concerns me.”
I didn’t believe him. Dwarves have long memories. “When was the last time you spoke?”
Thekk folded his hands in front of him. “Seventy years? Eighty? I have no information about him that would be of help to you.”
“Let’s talk about your warehouse going up in flames,” M
urdock said.
Thekk sighed. “An unfortunate occurrence.”
“You don’t seem that upset,” I said.
He shrugged. “I should have sold the building years ago. I had the good fortune of insurance. My business has been outside Boston for decades now.”
“Someone’s been interested in talking to dwarves who were in the city decades ago. Have you heard anything about that?” I asked.
Impatience was starting to show on his face. “Is there a purpose to this discussion? I am a member of the Teutonic Consortium and see no need to answer to Guild agents.”
“We’re not Guild agents,” I said.
“You were, sir. I see it in your bearing and your voice. I have made it clear that the clan has no knowledge of Nar and no interest. His fate has no meaning for us,” Thekk said.
“Three dwarves have been killed, and your warehouse burned to the ground. Don’t you find it interesting that Nar is linked to all three?” Murdock said.
“I find it sad, sir. Trouble gathers like crows. Nar always had a knack for trouble,” he said.
I decided to change the conversation. “What happened upstairs? You’ve got burn marks on your house.”
“I believe the gardeners are clearing unwanted brush.”
He had paused longer than necessary to answer the question. “A little aggressive, aren’t they?” I asked.
“I am not a gardener, sir. I pay them to do their jobs as they see fit.”
“Has someone threatened you?” Murdock said.
Thekk chuckled. “I am a loyal subject of the Elven King. If someone were threatening me, I would pursue it through the Consortium.”
“Do you know any of Nar’s current associates?” Murdock asked.
Thekk frowned, his thick unibrow rippling into a thicker one. “He lives in that slum in Boston where my warehouse was. Why would I know any of those people?”
A smile twitched at the corner of Murdock’s mouth as he offered his business card. “I know what you mean. If you think of something, we would appreciate a call.”
Thekk received the card and made a point of reading it. “I will, Detective, but I doubt there will be a need. Will there be anything else?”
Murdock looked at me, but I had nothing to say. “No, thanks.”
Thekk returned to the chair behind the slab table. “Have a pleasant day.”
Given Thekk’s less than warm manner, I was surprised he trusted us to see ourselves out. Once in the receiving hall, though, I sensed subtle essence barriers across the openings to the other corridors. Walking anywhere but up the stairs would have tripped alarms. Either that or they were simple barriers that would prevent us from moving freely through the house.
“That was strange,” Murdock said as he pulled down the driveway.
“Dwarves are suspicious of outsiders. I don’t know what he was talking about with the clan thing though,” I said.
“I wonder why he wasn’t telling the truth about the landscaping either,” he said.
“It could be a coincidence, Leo. If he cut ties with Nar all those years ago, he probably doesn’t know anything,” I said.
“You know what I’m thinking?” he asked.
“You’re thinking that despite what Thekk said, he knows something about Nar, which means that until something more likely comes along, you will investigate this mysterious business deal that went sore between them until you can rule him out as a suspect,” I said.
He pursed his lips. “And what makes you say that?”
“You’re predictable.”
“I am not,” he said.
“Okay, now that I helped you with this interview, I have a favor to ask,” I said.
“Uh-oh,” he said.
“Shut up. It’s easy. I need a motorcycle,” I said.
“I want a pony,” he said.
“Seriously, I need something fast and maneuverable to chase down this blue essence in the Tangle. A motorcycle’s perfect.”
“The department would never approve it. They’re dealing with inventory loss from the night of the riots,” he said.
“I wasn’t thinking about the department.” Murdock’s brother Bar had a bike, but since I was persona non grata with the Murdock family, I didn’t think he’d loan it to me. His own brother, on the other hand, would have no problem.
Murdock laughed in disbelief. “I see where you’re going. I’ll ask, but don’t get your hopes up.” He pulled off the road and into a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot, parked the car, and leaned back. “Hurry up. I don’t want to get stuck in midday traffic.”
“Hurry up with what?” I asked.
He grinned. “It’s been over an hour since you had your coffee. You want another cup, and need to take a leak. You’re predictable.”
I laughed as I got out of the car. “Touché, my friend, touché.”
20
I grinned at the approaching sound of an engine. Murdock had come through with my request for the motorcycle. He coasted the bike to the curb in front of my building and cut the engine. I whistled in admiration. “When the hell did Bar get a Ducati?”
Murdock pulled off his helmet. “About six months ago, I think. I’m surprised he let me take it instead of the Harley. I think he sleeps with it.”
I trailed my hand along the front. “A Monster, right?”
“The S,” said Murdock.
The bike really was a beast. Even parked, the machine looked like it was in motion, stripped down to the bare bones, not a piece of chrome wasted. I circled around the back to check out the exhaust. “Man, I wish I still had the money for something like this.”
“Okay. I got the bike. What’s the plan?” Murdock asked.
“I can’t catch the blue-essence surge. I tried essence speeding the other night, but it kicked up a storm in my head, and my nose bled for an hour,” I said.
“Basically, you want to race around the Weird on a bike,” he said.
I tried to look innocent. “Well, I think the blue surge is related to the dwarf murders. It’s shown up nearby every time.”
Murdock smirked like he wasn’t buying it. He handed me a helmet. “Get on.”
“What? I thought you were dropping the bike off for me to use,” I said.
He shook his head. “No way am I letting you take this bike. Bar would scream if he found out. I didn’t tell him you wanted it.”
I pulled the helmet on. “This is so not fair.”
“You can always try running faster,” he said.
I grabbed his shoulder and swung my leg over the bike. “I’d leave you in the dust.”
“Left tap, slow down. Right tap, stop. I tap you, hang on. Every helmet bump costs a beer. Got it?” he said.
“Got it. Let’s check out the burn district first,” I said.
Murdock started the motorcycle as I gripped his waist. To show me who was boss, he tapped my hand and tore up the street. I laughed at my momentary panic at the speed, then settled in for the ride. It had been a while since I was on a bike. We tore up Old Northern, turning heads as we passed.
We cruised up and down side streets, keeping an eye out for a hint of blue essence. Its appearance was a nightly occurrence. Sometimes people vanished afterward, but not every time. Murdock looped through areas where the Dead were known to congregate, since I suspected a connection existed between the Dead and the surge. Every reported sighting I had checked out had faded Dead essence in the area.
“We don’t get a lot of calls about the Dead anymore,” Murdock said during a pit stop.
The Dead had been major trouble before Eorla contained the Taint. The Taint had heightened their propensity to violence. They had torn apart the Weird, causing mayhem and death. That Commissioner Murdock had been taking bribes to look the other way didn’t help, either, but that was something I wouldn’t say in front of Leo. “Since the solitaries learned how to fight back, I’m guessing the Dead have decided to keep a low profile.”
Murdock smiled around the mouth
of a water bottle. “Yeah, a cop loves to hear vigilante justice works.”
I laughed. “You know that’s not what I meant. The Dead had to learn they have to get along here. They thought they could slaughter people like they did in TirNaNog, and the solitaries had to make them understand that things don’t work like that here. Think of it as a cultural conflict that worked itself out.”
“Uh-huh. At least we’re not finding decapitated bodies anymore. Ready?” he asked.
We donned our helmets and got back on the bike. I hadn’t ridden in a long time, and my butt was going to be complaining in the morning. Murdock turned a corner and tapped my hands. I grabbed his waist tighter as he picked up speed. Two blocks ahead, the blue surge swept across the road. Murdock raced the bike up to the turn. I bumped his helmet as he came to a full stop. The alley was empty.
“Missed it. That’s one beer for me,” he shouted over the engine.
“No fair. I didn’t know you were stopping,” I said.
“Pay attention,” he said. He gunned it up the alley. I tilted my head on the recoil and bumped his shoulder instead of his head. Ten minutes later, the surge appeared in the road ahead, moving away at a good clip. Murdock swerved around a car that had slammed on its brakes. I leaned in to the turn, trying not to think about the sandy grit in the road as the bike tilted.
Murdock righted the bike and ripped it up the street. The surge billowed ahead, dark indigo shapes flashing in and out of sight. It pulled away, gaining speed as we neared. It twisted across the sidewalk and plunged into a building. Plunged, as in vanished through a brick wall. Murdock hit the brakes hard. The rear tire kicked out, and I held on as the force almost threw me. Murdock killed the engine and whipped off his helmet. “What the hell is that?”
“A wall,” I said.
“Thanks,” he said.
I eased off the bike and approached the wall. It was an illusion. Someone had created a shield out of hardened essence. I touched the facing with my right hand, feeling the essence tingle like static under my fingers. “There’s a shield barrier here, a good one. This must be why I keep losing track of them. They must have barriers like this scattered all over the neighborhood.”
Uncertain Allies Page 15
