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“Then Gandalf... he didn't kill Meerkat?” Rachael said in a gloomy voice. It had made so much sense, at least the way Maggie had explained it to Galahad. To think that the murderer still remained undiscovered... it made Rachael's heart sink.
“Mmm,” Maggie hummed, holding out the envelope before her.
“Well, did he or didn't he?” Rachael prodded.
“Oh, well, anything in this world is possible...” Maggie looked up from her prize. “But, no, I doubt it.”
“Then everything you told Galahad, that was all just hot air?”
“No, no,” Maggie corrected, still studying the white envelope. “I mean, Gandalf's fingerprints are all over the Senator Hadian hatchet job. But hurt Meerkat?” she snickered. “No.”
“Then who?” Rachael exhaled in frustration.
That damned envelope, Rachael wanted to smack it out of Maggie's hand. Maggie turned it over in her hands, studying its plain white exterior. Why didn't she just open it? It was fully consuming Maggie's attention. She was paying Rachael no heed.
“Who?” Rachael said, snatching the envelope out of Maggie's grasp. Using her knee to steady the helm, she rapidly tore the envelope's end off and tipped the opened container forward into Maggie's lap. A ridiculously over-sized, wide, flat key fell out of the envelope.
“Ah,” was Maggie's only response.
“What's that?” Rachael queried, looking into the crevice of the opened envelope for perhaps an explanatory note.
“A large key,” Maggie replied.
“To what?”
“A large door?” Maggie smirked.
Rachael deflated. Was Maggie being intentionally obtuse? “Maggie...”
“Sorry,” Maggie apologized, picking up the key and looking it over. Rachael leaned forward away from the helm and examined it as Maggie turned it in the light.
“Why would Gandalf leave it for you?”
“Because he wanted to make sure the dryfoots didn't get their hands on it. Or anyone else on the Raft, for that matter. No, this key was important to Gandalf. Or rather, what's behind the door that it unlocks was important to Gandalf.”
“The treasure room!” Rachael realized, breathless. “Aboard the Kalakala!”
“Mmm,” Maggie answered.
“All that gold!”
“Yes,” Maggie said, flipping the key over in her palm. She stood up and squirreled away the large key in her jeans pocket. “But more importantly, the Exchange that it backs.”
“Gandalf left it to you.”
“Maybe,” Maggie shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Are you going to take over command of the Raft?” Rachael asked from behind the helm. “Like you told the Kid?”
“Well, with this,” Maggie tapped her pocket. “And this,” Maggie leaned forward, picked up Gandalf's large revolver, still in its evidence bag. She tore open the plastic. “I might have a shot.”
With the gun out in the fresh air, Maggie half-cocked the hammer, opened the loading gate, twirled the cylinder, confirmed that the pistol was unloaded and let the hammer fall forward. Almost as an afterthought, she twirled the pistol once around by its trigger guard, catching it again by the handle and tucking it away securely down the front of her jeans. “We need to call a council. Talk to the Gray Beards.”
“With that gun?” Rachael asked. “Conversations that need firearms haven't historically turned out so well.”
“It's not just a gun, Rachael, it's Gandalf's gun.” Maggie said with a solemnity that Rachael didn't quiet comprehend.
“What is it with you people and your guns?” Rachael repeated Galahad's question, half in jest.
The Raft Page 48
