Shadow of the Knife

by Jane Fletcher

  A covered shape also lay on the floor of the wagon. Kallim pulled back the blanket to reveal a face. “Is this Ade Eriksen?”

  “No.”

  Kallim nodded at the medic. “Okay. You can take her.”

  The wagon rumbled away. Kallim turned to the Rangers. “This might just work out very well. Ade Eriksen is the one who’s got away. She’s well known in town, so won’t hang around here.” Kallim glanced at Ellen for a nod of confirmation. “Without the barge, her only option is to steal a horse and hightail it to the gang’s hideout. You’ve been recommended as trackers. You saw what she was wearing, so you’ll recognize her?”

  Both Rangers nodded.

  “All we know about the hideout’s location is that it’s less than half a day’s travel, southeast of town. I want you to get some good horses and lie in wait. One of you by the ford where the ambush was, since that’s on the way. The other closer to town, just in case she goes by some other route. She might evade one of you, but hopefully not both. Don’t stop her. Don’t even let her know you’re there. Just follow her. When you find the location of the hideout come straight back here and report. Clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The two designated trackers departed.

  Lastly, Kallim turned to Ellen. “Did you find anything?”

  Ellen held out two bloodstained sheets of paper. “Sales receipts. They must be forgeries. I found them in the skipper’s breast pocket. The knife went straight through them, and they’re soaked in blood. They won’t be easy to read, but maybe we can learn something from them.”

  “Right. And the skipper? You thought you recognized her. Is she known locally?”

  “No. I’ve only ever seen her once—that’s if it’s the same person. But I think she might have been in the Three Barrels Tavern, the night before the massacre, when the 12th Squadron were there.”

  Kallim looked thoughtful. “You think she might have overheard something? Be the source of the leaked information?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “But you’re not sure it’s her?”

  “No. She was on the other side of the taproom. And I wasn’t paying a lot of attention. I didn’t look at her much.” Ellen did not add that identification was further hampered by the fact that the woman had been in a lip-lock with Jay Takeda for most of the time. “Maybe if I get some of the survivors from the 12th to look at her. They might be more certain.”

  Kallim nodded. “Do it.”

  *

  A small room at the back of the infirmary served as a morgue. The dead barge skipper lay there, stretched out on a table. Thanks to information from the captured crewmember, Ellen now knew her name was Yuan Beaumont. When she was buried that afternoon, it would not be in an unmarked grave—but would anyone ever come to pay their respects? Who would mourn Yuan Beaumont?

  Ellen stared at the flaccid features. Already death was distorting them, as the cheeks sank down, bulging into heavy jowls. Memories of the evening in the Three Barrels skittered around in Ellen’s head, refusing to drop into focus. Was it the same woman who had been swaying drunkenly and laughing while she kissed Jay Takeda?

  The door of the morgue opened.

  “I don’t know what you think this is frigging going to prove.” Mel’s voice preceded her, sounding every bit as combative as Ellen had expected.

  Chris answered. “We just want you to see if you recognize her.”

  “Your young kid was there. Don’t she know how to use her eyes?”

  “Patrolwoman Mittal was on the other side of the room and did not get a good look at the woman.”

  “She’s as fucking useless as the rest of you.”

  Mel stamped into the room. Seeing Ellen there, she scowled, her expression showing no trace of apology, even though she had to know her remarks had been overheard. Chris slipped into the room behind her, also looking annoyed. When the written request for Mel to view the body had been ignored, Chris had been forced to go in person and escort her over from the barracks. Clearly it had not been a pleasant task.

  For her part, Ellen was very grateful that Chris was now fully recovered and the Rangers were allowing her to take an active part in the investigation. Tackling Mel Ellis was not something Ellen had felt up to handling on her own.

  Chris took a position beside the door. “Is that the woman who hooked up with Jay Takeda in the tavern?”

  “No.”

  Mel had not even glanced at Yuan Beaumont’s body. She turned around, but before she got to the door, Chris reached across and slammed it shut, keeping her fist on the handle. Her eyes narrowed in anger.

  “Okay. You can wait here. I’ll go and get Kallim. And then we’ll see if you can do this properly.”

  Ellen watched the two women glare at each other in confrontation. It was clear that Chris meant what she said, and it required no guesswork to know how Major Kallim would feel if she was dragged in to resolve the issue. Even so, Ellen was surprised when Mel backed down. The Ranger went back to the table. For the space of three heartbeats, she stared at the skipper’s face and then she turned away again.

  “It’s not her.” Her tone was provocative, as if challenging Chris to accuse her of lying.

  Chris pursed her lips, but then let her hand fall and stepped away. She did not move again until the sound of Mel’s footsteps had faded.

  Ellen sighed. “That was a complete waste of time.”

  “Not really.” Chris’s expression changed to a lopsided grimace. “Mel Ellis is a lousy liar. She definitely thinks it’s the same woman. I could see it in her eyes.”

  “That’s not going to count as proof.”

  “We’ll report it at the meeting this afternoon. See how Kallim wants to play it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s happy to leave the matter unproved. Pushing things further isn’t going to do any good.” Chris nodded at the body. “The woman who got the information and passed it on is dead. Jay Takeda more than paid for her lapse. She died a hero. There’s no way it was a deliberate betrayal on her part. I can’t see Kallim wanting to formally lay the blame on her.”

  “That will make Mel Ellis happy.”

  Chris scrunched her nose. “Mel happy or unhappy—will anyone be able to spot the difference?”

  Ellen grinned and wandered toward the door.

  Chris also made to leave the room, but then stopped. “While I remember. I’ve got one bit of definite proof that ought to make you very happy.”

  “What?”

  “While you were in Eastford, Hal Drennen turned up at the Town Hall, rather sheepishly so I’ve been told, and apologized for not informing them about her great-aunt’s condition beforehand. She had all the right documentation with her. She’s definitely Cassie’s niece and lawfully authorized to run the farm on her aunt’s behalf.”

  Ellen felt her heart pound. Her legs trembled. It was a childish overreaction, but she could not help it. She glanced back at the body on the table, while a grin stretched her lips so wide it hurt. Hal had not been the one who passed on information to the Butcher and her gang, and she really was who she said she was. And that evening, once the meeting was over, Ellen was definitely due some off-duty time.

  Chapter Thirteen—A New Map

  “We haven’t been able to find anyone who’s willing to swear to the identification, but we’re fairly sure it’s the same woman.” Chris paused in her report.

  Standing at one side of the room, Ellen nodded, noting the careful choice of words.

  Chris went on. “And we know from the log that on the night in question, the Susie-Louise was moored in town. What we suspect happened was that Yuan Beaumont chanced to be in the Three Barrels. She overheard enough to be suspicious and latched onto Jay Takeda, as someone who was obviously under the influence of alcohol. During the course of the time they spent together, she managed to extract more information, which she passed on to her associates.”

  Major Kallim sank back in her chair. Her eyes fixed pensively on the office ceiling. “Leading Ranger
Jay Takeda. She was the one who volunteered to stay behind, providing cover so her comrades could escape, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Kallim turned to one of the attending orderlies. “Does she leave any family?”

  “Her parents. They live in Eastford. And two younger sisters.”

  “Her mothers can be proud of the way their daughter died.” Kallim’s eyes returned to Chris. “Your identification is not certain?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “And your suspicions are just guesswork?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Kallim tapped her fingertips thoughtfully on the table, and then nodded, clearly having reached a decision. “I fear we’ll never know for sure how the gang learned of the 12th’s planned raid. We don’t have enough evidence to work with, but fortunately, we don’t need the information to trace any gang members. In my opinion, it’s not worth pursuing the matter any further. I’ll forward a report to Fort Krowe to this effect.” She sat up, looking more purposeful. “What else?”

  This was Ellen’s cue. “Ma’am, I’ve examined the receipts I found in Skipper Beaumont’s pocket. It looks like they’re good forgeries. Because of the state they’re in, it’s hard to be sure about much, but the way the ink ran suggests they’d been altered at some point. The receipts were for Jan’s Creek Ranch and Three Dollars Ranch, which match about two-thirds of the sheep on the barge. We suspect the crew arranged for these sheep to be in the easier-to-get-to spots, so they’d most likely be the ones checked by the Militiawoman on duty.”

  “Only suspect?”

  “The fuss from the search of the barge mixed them up.”

  “It was a bit of a chance the skipper was taking.”

  “That was probably why they waited until the end of the day, when the light was poor.”

  “And the Militiawoman was eager to get home,” Kallim added dryly.

  Ellen said nothing, but Terrie would certainly not have exerted herself checking the tattoos at any time of day.

  “The owners of these farms, have you spoken to them?” Kallim asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. They deny all knowledge of their animals being on the Susie-Louise. The sheep were mature ewes, matching breeding stock reported stolen last autumn.”

  “Okay. What have we found out from the prisoner?”

  One of the other Rangers present answered. “Not a lot, I’m afraid, ma’am. She claims to be a casual dockhand from Eastford, hired on a trip-by-trip basis. She says this is the first time she’s worked on the Susie-Louise. Denies all knowledge of the Butcher.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  The Ranger pursed her lips. “She might be telling the truth. She’s either a good actress or extremely dim-witted.”

  “Mindless muscle?”

  “Not even much in the way of muscle, which explains why no skipper wants her as permanent crew. We’re going to take her up the river tomorrow, to see if she can spot where the sheep were loaded, but I’m not holding out much hope. She’s not the sort to notice things and remember.”

  “Right.” Kallim turned to the last contributor. “Corporal O’Neil, what have you to tell us?”

  This was the big one. Ellen felt a tingle of excitement. The other reports, her own included, had been routine. However, Ellen had witnessed the Ranger’s return to Roadsend, less than an hour before, and while nothing official had yet been said, the word on the barracks’ grapevine was that the mission had been successful.

  Ash O’Neil was a hard-eyed woman in her early twenties, with a no-nonsense manner, quieter than most Rangers and less quick to laugh. Yet despite her dour appearance, she was one of the Rangers who had made the most effort to be friendly to Ellen. She had a reputation for bushcraft skills that impressed even the other Rangers. Ellen had heard several stories during her time in the barracks and had not been surprised when Maggie LeCoup recommended her as a tracker.

  Ash spoke evenly, without any trace of self-importance. “I was stationed at the ford on Red Gorge Creek. Eriksen came through there just after dawn. I reckon she’d holed up outside town until first light and stolen a horse. She hadn’t managed a saddle and was riding bareback. I tailed her for the next three hours until she reached a homestead out in the Wildlands.”

  Kallim pushed a map across the table. “Can you pinpoint where it was?”

  O’Neil went to the desk and stared down, frowning. “We came over there and across. There was a river running...” Her frown deepened. “I don’t think this map has the spot marked, but I’d say it was about...there.” She placed her finger on a blank area of the map.

  “I haven’t ridden out that way since I was a lieutenant with the 8th. It was a long time ago.” Kallim sighed and looked up. “Sanchez, Mittal. It’s your region. Do you know where this base is?”

  Ellen joined the other two women at the table. O’Neil’s description of detail on the journey was precise and comprehensive, recounting the features she had passed. They added together the clues, but it was not easy. Off to the southeast were hundreds of canyons. They had never been mapped—nowhere out there had been, and most landmarks were without a name. Yet despite the difficulty, Ellen had to work to keep a smile off her face. Her last crumb of doubt had been that Ash would track Adeola Eriksen back to Broken Hills Ranch.

  “That sounds like it’s the other side of Flinttop,” Chris said.

  Ellen tried to picture the region, but a Militiawomen’s duties rarely took her so far into the Wildlands. “The river has to be one of the tributaries of the Yallack.”

  “True, but there’s enough of them,” Chris agreed, staring at the map and clearly digging through her memories. “You said it was about two kilometers from a small lake shaped like a boot?”

  Ash nodded. “Yes.”

  “Then I think—”

  “Do you know where the hideout is?” Kallim interrupted.

  Chris caught her lip in her teeth and then looked at Ash. “When you were facing the homestead across the river, was there another canyon breaking off behind it, heading toward a mountain with a crest like this...” Chris illustrated the shape with her hands.

  Ash nodded. “Yes.”

  Chris stood up straighter. “Then I know the spot. I was out that way eight or so years ago. There were no buildings back then.”

  “They didn’t look like they’d been around for long.”

  “This region is unmapped?” Major Kallim asked.

  Chris smiled. “At the moment. But I could draw you one of how to get there.”

  “Good enough to find it, coming from north, south, and east?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I want it by this evening.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then I think we’ve covered all we need to. I want three copies of the map before sunset. I’ve got eight squadrons ready to hunt down this scum. We’ll all rendezvous at the Butcher’s base in fourteen days’ time.” Kallim smiled without humor. “And then we’ll put an end to the matter.”

  *

  The yard in front of the farmhouse was deserted when Ellen arrived at Broken Hills Ranch in the early evening. She sat in the saddle for a moment, patting the horse’s neck, while trying to work out if she was surprised at how nervous she felt. Even in her first fumbling encounter, aged fourteen, with Tina Scott in Tina’s family hay barn, Ellen did not remember being so unconfident and off balance.

  No sign of activity issued from the farmhouse. Was all her anxiety for nothing? Was Hal elsewhere? It would be too ironic, and disappointing. Ellen slipped her foot free of the stirrup, swung her leg over the horse’s rump, and jumped down. She stroked the horse’s nose, more to soothe herself than the horse, before turning back to the door. A jolt ran through her, rippling out from her stomach.

  Hal stood at the top of the steps, arms folded, grinning down at her. “You’re back.”

  “No. You’re imagining things.”

  Hal laughed, hopping down the steps. “Okay. I asked
for that.”

  “You did.”

  Ellen advanced until she and Hal were mere centimeters apart, yet still not touching.

  “When did you get into Roadsend?”

  “A couple of days ago.”

  “You couldn’t let me know before?”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to get away.”

  “And now? Are you on duty or off?”

  “Off.”

  “You’re staying here tonight.”

  “I’d like to.”

  “That last one wasn’t a question.”

  Hal raised her hand to Ellen’s face. Ellen leaned into the touch, closing her eyes. She felt Hal’s fingers slide to the base of her neck, urging her forward. Their lips met.

  Ellen wrapped her arms around Hal, partly for support. The muscles in Hal’s shoulders were hard and firm. Ellen slid her hands lower, tracing the line of Hal’s spine to its end. Her world consisted only of Hal’s mouth working against hers and the softness of Hal’s backside, twin mounds filling her hands. Ellen tightened the grip of her fingers, pressing their thighs still more firmly together.

  The bang of the farmhouse door came as a shock, jerking Ellen back to the farmyard. She pulled away, feeling dazed. However, Hal did not release her own hold and they remained locked together from the waist down. Ellen turned her head. The farm hand, Jo, now stood at the top of the steps, grinning with amusement.

  Hal planted a last quick, pecked kiss, let go of Ellen, and trotted over to her employee. They exchanged a few brief comments, too low to be overheard. Ellen felt a blush rise on her face. Even without knowing the details of what was said, from the way Jo’s grin got still wider, she could make a fair guess at the gist of it. Jo lightly punched Hal’s arm and then ambled toward Ellen’s horse.