“A simple transformation spell,” he said calmly. “The wine doesn’t change its basic nature, of course; that would be beyond my simple abilities. The alcohol is still there; it just can’t affect you anymore. It’s a handy trick to know, on occasion. There are times when a man’s survival can rest on his ability to keep a clear head.”
“I can imagine,” said Hawk. “But I always thought you distrusted magic, sir warrior. That seems to be the one thing all the songs about you agree on.”
“Oh, them.” Stalker shrugged dismissively. “I never wrote any of them. When you get right down to it, magic’s a tool, like any other; just a little more complicated than most. It’s not that I distrust magic; I just don’t trust those who rely on it too much. Sorcery isn’t like a sword or a pike; magic can let you down. And besides, I don’t trust the deals some people make to gain their knowledge and power.”
He looked at Gaunt on the far side of the room, and his eyes were very cold. Hawk looked thoughtfully at Stalker. Dorimant and Visage looked at each other.
“Thank you for the wine, sir warrior,” said Visage. “It’s really very nice. But now, if you’ll excuse us, Graham and I need to discuss some business with the Hightowers.”
“And I must return to my partner,” said Hawk.
They bowed politely, and then moved quickly away, leaving Stalker standing alone, staring after Visage. You rotten little bitch, he thought finally. Ah, well, she wasn’t really my type anyway.
The sorcerer Gaunt raised his voice above the babble of conversation, and called for everyone’s attention. The noise quickly died away as they all turned to face him.
“My friends, dinner will soon be ready. If you would like to go up to your rooms and change, I will be serving the first course in thirty minutes.”
The guests moved unhurriedly out of the parlor and into the hall, talking cheerfully among themselves. Gaunt disappeared after them, presumably to check on how the first course was coming along. Hawk and Fisher were left alone in the great parlor.
“Change for dinner?” said Hawk.
“Of course,” said Fisher. “We’re among the Quality now.”
“Makes a change,” said Hawk dryly, and they both laughed.
“I’m getting rid of this cloak,” said Fisher. “I don’t care if we are representing the Guard; it’s too damned hot to wear a cloak.”
She took it off and draped it carelessly over the nearest chair. Hawk grinned, and did the same. They looked wistfully at the great table at the rear of the parlor, covered with a pristine white tablecloth and gleaming plates and cutlery. There was even a massive candelabrum in the middle of the table, with all the candles already lit.
“That looks nice,” said Hawk.
“Very nice,” said Fisher. “I wonder if we’re invited to dinner.”
“I doubt it,” said Hawk. “We probably get scraps and leftovers in the kitchen, afterwards. Unless Blackstone decides he wants a food taster, and I think Gaunt would probably take that as an insult to his culinary arts.”
“Ah, well,” said Fisher. “At least now we can sit down for a while. My feet are killing me.”
“Right,” said Hawk. “It’s been a long day....”
They drew up chairs by the empty fireplace, dropped into them, and stretched out their legs. The chairs were almost indecently comfortable and supportive. Hawk and Fisher sat in silence a while, almost dozing. The unrelenting muggy heat weighed down on them, making sleep seem very tempting. The minutes passed pleasantly and Hawk stretched lazily. And then Katherine Blackstone came hurrying into the parlor, and Hawk sat up with a jolt as he saw the worry in her face.
“I’m sorry to trouble you,” said Katherine hesitantly.
“Not at all,” said Hawk. “That’s what we’re here for.”
“It’s my husband,” said Katherine. “He went into our room to get changed while I paid a visit to the bathroom. When I came back, the door to our room was locked from the inside. I knocked and called, but there was no answer. I’m afraid he may have been taken ill or something.”
Hawk and Fisher looked quickly at each other, and got to their feet.
“I think we’d better take a look,” said Hawk. “Just in case. If you’d show us the way, please ...”
Katherine Blackstone nodded quickly, and led them out of the parlor and into the hall. Hawk’s hand rested on the axe at his side. He had a bad feeling about this. Katherine hurried down the hall and up the stairs at the far end, grabbing at the banister as though to pull herself along faster. Hawk and Fisher had to push themselves to keep up with her. Katherine reached the top of the stairs first, and ran down the landing to the third door on the left. She hammered on the door and rattled the doorknob, then looked worriedly at Hawk.
“It’s still locked, Captain. William! William, can you hear me?” There was no reply. Katherine stepped back and looked desperately at Hawk. “Use your axe. Smash the lock. I’ll take the responsibility.”
Hawk frowned as he drew his axe. “Perhaps we should talk to Gaunt first....”
“I’m not waiting! William could be ill in there. Break the door down now. That’s an order, Captain!”
Hawk nodded, and took a good grip on his axe. “Stand back, then, and give me some room.”
“What the hell is going on here?” said Gaunt, from the top of the stairs. “Captain; put down your axe.”
Hawk looked steadily at the sorcerer. “Councillor Blackstone doesn’t answer our calls, and his door is locked from the inside. Do you have a spare key?”
Gaunt came forward to join him. “No,” he said slowly, “I’ve never needed any spares.” He looked at the closed door, and his mouth tightened. “William could be hurt. Smash the lock.”
Hawk nodded, and swung his axe at the brass lock, using all his strength. The blade sank deep into the wood, and the keen edge bit into the brass. The heavy door shook violently in its frame, but didn’t open. Hawk jerked the blade free, and struck again. The axe sheared clean through the lock. Hawk smiled slightly as he pulled the blade free. It was a good axe. He kicked the door open, and he and Fisher hurried into the room, with Katherine and Gaunt close behind.
William Blackstone lay on his back on the floor, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. A knife hilt protruded from his chest, and his shirtfront was red with blood.
3
QUESTIONS ANd ANSWERS
Katherine Blackstone pushed past Hawk and Fisher, and ran forward to kneel beside her husband. Her hand went briefly to his chest, and then to his face. She looked back at Hawk, and her face was blank and confused.
“He’s dead. He’s really dead. Who ... Who ...”
She suddenly started to cry, great rasping sobs that shook her whole body. Fisher moved forward and knelt beside her for a moment before putting an arm round her shoulders and helping her to her feet. She led Katherine away from the body and made her sit down on the bed. Katherine accepted this docilely. Tears rolled down her face, but she made no attempt to wipe them away. Shock. Hawk had seen it before. He looked at Gaunt, standing beside him in the doorway. The sorcerer looked shaken and confused, unable to take in what had happened.
“Gaunt,” said Hawk quietly, “you’re her friend; get her out of here. Fisher and I have to examine the body.”
“Of course,” said Gaunt. “I’m sorry, I ... of course.”
“And, Gaunt ...”
“Yes?”
“Take her downstairs, get somebody to sit with her, and then set up an isolation spell. I don’t want anyone or anything getting in or out of this house.”
“Yes. I understand.”
Gaunt went over to Katherine and spoke softly to her. Katherine shook her head dazedly, but got to her feet as Gaunt went on talking to her, his voice low and calm and persuasive. They left the room together, and Hawk shut the door behind them. Hawk and Fisher looked at the dead body, and then at each other.
“Some bodyguards we turned out to be,” said Hawk.
Fisher
nodded disgustedly. “This is going to be a real mess, Hawk. Blackstone was the best thing to happen to this city in years. What’s going to happen with him gone?”
“If we don’t find out who killed him, and quickly, there’ll be riots in the streets,” said Hawk grimly. “Damn. I liked him, Isobel. He trusted us to keep him safe, and we let him down.”
“Come on,” said Fisher. “We’ve got work to do. I’ll check the room, you check the body.”
Hawk nodded, and knelt down beside Blackstone. He looked the body over from head to toe, careful not to touch anything. Blackstone’s face was calm and relaxed, the eyes open and staring at the ceiling. His hands were empty. One leg had buckled under him as he fell back, and was trapped beneath the other. The knife had been driven into his heart with such strength that the crosspiece of the knife was flush with Blackstone’s chest. Hawk looked at the weapon closely, but it seemed a perfectly ordinary knife. There were no other wounds on the body, or any sign that Blackstone had tried to defend himself. The shirt around the knife was soaked with blood. Hawk frowned. With a wound like that, you’d expect a lot more blood....
“Look at this,” said Fisher.
Hawk looked up sharply.
Fisher was crouched down beside the bed, staring at a wineglass lying on its side on the thick rug. There was a little red wine left in the glass, and a few drops had spilled out onto the rug. The crimson stains looked disturbingly like blood. Fisher dipped a finger into the wine in the glass, and then lifted it to her mouth.
“Don’t,” said Hawk. “It could be poisoned.”
Fisher sniffed at her finger. “Smells okay.”
“Leave it anyway, until we’ve had a chance to check it.”
“Come on, Hawk. Why poison Blackstone and then stab him through the heart?”
“All right, I’ll admit it’s highly unlikely. But you never know. Wipe your fingers off thoroughly, okay?”
“Okay.” Fisher wiped her finger on the bedspread, and then moved over to crouch down beside Hawk. She stared glumly at the body, and shook her head slowly. “Well. How do you see it happening?”
Hawk frowned. “The door was locked from the inside, and Blackstone had the only key. At least, I assume he had it. I’ll check in a minute to make sure. Anyway, I think we’re fairly safe in assuming it wasn’t suicide. First, he had everything to live for. Second, there had been threats on his life. And third, he’d have a hell of a hard job stabbing himself like that. Apart from anything else, the angle’s all wrong. No, suicide is definitely out.”
“Right,” said Fisher. “So, somebody got in here, stabbed Blackstone, and then left, leaving the door locked from the inside. Tricky. Could Blackstone have locked the door himself, after he was stabbed?”
“No,” said Hawk. “With a wound like that, he must have died instantly.”
“Yeah,” said Fisher. “All right. Who could have killed Blackstone? It had to be one of the guests. A stranger would have one hell of a hard time getting into Gaunt’s house, and even if he had, Blackstone would have taken one look at him and yelled the place down. And since he was stabbed in the chest, he must have seen his attacker.”
“Right,” said Hawk. “So, if Blackstone saw whoever it was, and didn’t cry out, that can only mean he knew his attacker, and didn’t consider him a threat until it was too late.”
“Nasty,” said Fisher.
“Very,” said Hawk. “I’d better make sure Gaunt’s set up the isolation spell. I don’t want any of our guests disappearing before I have a chance to question them. You stay with the body. No one is to touch anything, right?”
“Right.”
Hawk straightened up and stretched slowly. “You know, Isobel, this is going to be a complicated case. I can feel it in my bones.”
He left Blackstone’s room and went out onto the landing, pulling the door shut behind him. The guests were crowded together on the landing, waiting for him. Lord Hightower stepped forward to block Hawk’s way.
“You. Guard! What’s going on?”
“My Lord...”
“Why have you smashed down William’s door?” demanded Bowman. “Gaunt took Katherine away in tears, but he wouldn’t tell us anything. Just said we weren’t to go in the room. What’s happened?”
“William Blackstone has been murdered,” said Hawk tightly.
The guests stared silently back at him, all of them apparently shocked and stunned.
“I have instructed the sorcerer Gaunt to seal off the house,” said Hawk. “Have any of you seen or heard anything suspicious? Anything at all?” There was a general shaking of heads, which was pretty much what Hawk had expected. He sighed quietly. “I have to talk to the sorcerer. My partner is guarding the body. I must ask you all not to enter Councillor Blackstone’s room for any reason, until the investigation into his death is over. I suggest you all go downstairs and wait in the parlour, and I’ll fill you in on the details of what’s happened as soon as I can.”
He turned quickly away before they could start asking questions, and hurried down the stairs to find Gaunt.
Fisher moved slowly around Blackstone’s room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. She’d tried all the obvious things, like looking in the wardrobe and under the bed, but so far the only clue to be found was the wineglass. Fisher scowled. The trouble with searching for clues was that half the time you didn’t know what you were looking for until you found it. And even then, you couldn’t be sure. She stood still in the middle of the room and looked about her. The color scheme was a little garish for her taste, but there was no denying that all the furniture and fittings were of the best possible quality. Nothing seemed to have been moved, or in any way disturbed. Everything was as it should be. Fisher glanced down at Blackstone’s body, and scowled thoughtfully. The killer had to be one of the guests, but they were all supposed to be friends of the dead man. One of them must have a motive. Find the motive, and you find the killer.... Fisher sat down on the edge of the bed and methodically worked her way through the list of suspects again.
Katherine Blackstone had looked to be very fond of Edward Bowman. Perhaps she’d grown tired of being married to a man ten years older than herself, and had decided to get rid of him so that she could take up with a younger man.
Lord Hightower claimed to have joined with Blackstone because of the way he’d been treated by the city Council, but that could have been just a cover, a way of getting close to Blackstone. And Lord Roderik was a military man; he’d know how to kill quickly and silently. But then again, why should he want to? Blackstone just wasn’t that important, outside of Haven.
And then there was the death wound itself. It must have taken quite a bit of strength to ram the knife all the way home. A great deal of strength ... or desperation.
Fisher shook her head. There was no point in making guesses at this stage. She didn’t have enough evidence to go on yet. The door creaked loudly as it swung suddenly open, and Fisher leapt to her feet, sword in hand, as Lord Hightower entered the room.
“That’s far enough, my Lord.”
Hightower glared at her coldly. “Watch your manners, girl. I’m here to take a look at the body.”
“I’m afraid I can’t allow that, my Lord.”
“You’ll do as you’re damn well told. I still have my rank as General....”
“And that doesn’t count a damn with me,” said Fisher politely. “As the only Guards present, Hawk and I have taken charge of the investigation. And at the scene of the crime, we are answerable only to our superior officers. That’s city law, Lord Hightower. Now I’m afraid I must insist that you leave. I can’t risk you accidentally destroying any evidence.”
Hightower started forward, and then stopped dead as Fisher raised her sword. He took in her calm, professional stance, and the old scars that scored her muscular forearm. The sword point didn’t waver, and neither did her narrowed eyes. Hightower stared at her coldly, and stepped back a pace.
“You’ll regret this, Gua
rd,” he said softly. “I’ll see to that!”
He turned and left, slamming the door shut behind him. Fisher lowered her sword. Some days you just shouldn’t get out of bed.
Downstairs, Hawk stood in the middle of the hall and looked around him, but there was no sign of Gaunt. Katherine Blackstone was sitting alone in the parlour. She had a glass of wine in her hand, but she wasn’t drinking it. She just sat in a chair by the empty fireplace, staring at nothing. A door opened behind Hawk and he spun round, axe in hand, to see Gaunt stepping into the hall from the room opposite the parlour.
“Where the hell have you been?” said Hawk quietly, not wanting to disturb Katherine.
“Just checking my defenses,” said Gaunt. “I can assure you that apart from those I invited, no one has got in or out of this house, before or since the murder. I’m now ready to set up the isolation spell. Are you sure you want to do this, Captain? Once the spell is established, this house and everyone in it will be sealed off from the outside world until dawn. That’s a good seven hours.”
“Do it,” said Hawk. “I know; these are important people, and they’re not going to like being held here against their will, but I can’t risk letting the killer escape. In the meantime, I really don’t think we should leave Katherine on her own. I thought I told you to find someone to sit with her?”
“There wasn’t time,” said Gaunt. “I thought it was more important to check my defenses, in case the assassin was still here. Believe me, Katherine will be perfectly all right on her own for a few minutes. I’ve given her a specific of my own devising; it should help to stave off the shock.”
Hawk frowned. “It won’t knock her out, will it? I’m going to have to ask her some questions in a while.”
“No, it’s only a mild sedative. Now, if you’ve finished with me for the moment, I think I’d better set up the isolation spell.” The sorcerer’s mouth twisted angrily. “I still can’t really believe that one of my guests murdered William ... but I suppose I must.”
Swords of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk & Fisher Page 7
