The Mansit Blade: A Novel of Gal ... by Bob Nelson - Episode 24

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§      §      §

"Should we interview Dame Eilon next?"

The Corporal frowned. "Good question. For sure she will be important, either directly or as a bridge to whoever... But should we hurry to her... or let her stew a while? Our questions to Lorn will circulate backstairs within two or three hours. Whoever organized the outing will be very nervous. If that was Eilon, she'll be worried -- it doesn't matter whether she is guilty of anything or not. If Eilon got the idea from someone else, she'll be anxious to point us in that direction -- anywhere but at her!"

"How about talking to Dame Loueffa next?" the Lady asked. "Just to make everyone wonder why we aren't following the most logical order... or if maybe we have a different logic..."

"Mmmm... Yessss.... Or the stable boy...We need to know who ordered the cart. It's probably not significant, but we'd be putting everyone off their stride..."

§      §      §

At the sound of several people arriving, the Stable-Master looked up from the hoof he had locked against his thigh. He recognized the Lady, if not the Watchman who accompanied her. "Just a moment, m' Lady," he said, returning his attention to the hoof. He had a bar laid flat across the hoof. Now he picked one of several rods -- some straight and some more or less deeply curved in an arc -- from a series that he must have previously arrayed in order to have a choice at this moment. The rod had a flattened hook at the end of its curved section.

He laid this rod between straight and curved sections on the bar on the hoof. He wiggled the hooked end around in the depths of the hoof for a few seconds. He braced the hooked rod on the other one, using it as a fulcrum... and pressed... hard. With a clatter, the two rods flew into the air. The Stable-Master jumped back, as the horse kicked.

"Good girl!" he cried, patting the mare's flank. "The stone's gone! It won't hurt no more..." He stroked her neck. "There, there... It's scary, and maybe hurt for just a second... but it's all good now..." For a long moment, he whispered and patted and stroked. The beast slowly settled down.

Then he turned to his attention to his visitors. "Beg pardon for the wait, m' Lady... but once I get her to lend me her hoof like that... I'd better get the job done! She's not a trusting girl..."

"Good morning, Master Arden," said the Lady. "We understand your priorities..." She laughed gently to soften the jibe.

"Master Arden," said Corporal Arinnot, and Wubi noted that he had no problem addressing this man as "Master" rather than "Goodman". "We needn't take much of your time. Just one question: Who requested the cart for the children's picnic on Lasdi?"

"Their Lady-mother, Corporal," answered the Stable-Master. He watched as the Lady and the Investigator exchanged a glance that surely held meaning... but that he did not understand. He realized that he might be inducing an error. "The second time, any way!" he went on hastily.

"Second time?" asked the Corporal.

"We only have two carts, here at Howalt House -- that's pretty good, I think, for a Galdiff townhouse, since we also have to keep his Lordship's carriage! Anyway... it's not unusual for both the carts to be in use at the same time, and not unusual for three or even four people to want them at the same time.

"My rule is 'first come, first served'. I don't play favorites. Pickin' 'n choosin' is the best way to get everybody mad at you! So when Loueffa came 'round, I told her that both carts was taken. Then a couple bells later, here's Lady Dorya makin' the same request... except that when one of the family makes a request, it ain't really a request, now is it?" He grinned.

"She didn't come in person, of course. She wrote a note, and Loueffa came back here with it."

§      §      §

"I do hope we are not intruding, Lady Dorya," said Wubi as she entered the women's sitting room, trailed by Corporal Arinnot. Dorya Howalt preened at hearing Wubi use the honorific "Lady" in addressing her. Strictly, the relative social standing between them would have required only a "Mistress"...

She was a comely enough woman, now in her mid-twenties. She was "pleasantly plump", but carried her weight well. Her dress was high-waisted. Her round face smiled easily, and she was reputed to be a peacemaker in the incessant infighting among the Howalt family's "ladies". She was not, however, reputed for her intelligence.

"Oh, no!" gushed the Lady Dorya Howalt. "Please do come in..." She was of noble lineage, certainly... but a second daughter of a minor count, married into a collateral line of a major county, the Howalts. Her husband would do well to be designated seneschal for a portion of his uncle's lands... in the hope of a timely vacancy in a barony somewhere. Time was passing...

"Please allow me to present Senior Investigator Arinnot, in charge of the inquiry into the kidnapping of your children."

"My Lady," said Arinnot, bowing a bit deeper than etiquette required.

"Oh... Yes, of course... I am very pleased to meet you..." she hesitated, not having the slightest idea of the proper way to address such a person. He wasn't an officer, if she had understood Countess Hanna correctly...

"Investigator Arinnot has a few questions, Lady Dorya," said Wubi, insisting on "Investigator", so that Dorya would know what to call the man.

"Of course! Please ask, Master Investigator..." The "Master" was more than was called for... but... one never knew how to address persons of such ambiguous status...

"The Stable-Master told us that you are the person who reserved the cart for Lasdi morning... Is that true?"

"Well... yes..." said Dorya hesitantly, apparently not having any idea why they should be asking this, and being uncomfortable at not understanding.

"Do you often get involved so deeply in the organization of the children's activities?"

Lady Mansit admired the Corporal's rigidly straight face. He was surely hiding a commoner's usual disapproval of the child-rearing attitudes of the highborn. The vast middle class counted their children more precious than anything. The children's upbringing was often the centerpiece of a marriage. But the nobility casually entrusted the upbringing of their children to servants, in much the same way that they confided the care of their clothes or their animals to those same servants.

The Corporal's astonishment that a noble woman would be involved in organizing a children's picnic was well hidden.

"Well of course not!" exclaimed Lady Dorya. "I am very busy, and the nursery staff at Howalt House is very competent. I usually leave them to their business, of course!"

Then..." Corporal Arinnot drew out the word. "Why were you involved on Lasdi?"

"Oh, I wasn't! Not really. One of the nurses... oh, what is her name? ... Lalia? Liana? No..." She sighed, exasperated. "I have a very hard time keeping them all straight, I'm afraid..."

"Was it Eilon, perhaps, my Lady?" asked Corporal Arinnot. "That is the woman who was with them when the attack occurred."

"Eilon? Oh, no. I know her. No...Lanna? Oh, drat! She's a tall young woman. Twenty-five, about. Thin. ... ... Loueffa! That's it! Her name is Loueffa. Oh, that's a relief!"

"Do you know, my Lady," she said to Wubi conversationally, ignoring the Corporal entirely, "I sometimes worry about my sanity! When I cannot recall a name like that? It's terrible!"

"So this woman, Loueffa... my Lady?" persisted the Investigator.

"Oh... yes," answered Lady Dorya, allowing the corporal back into her consciousness. "She came to me in the parlor on Eighdi, before dinner. She had one child holding either hand. She explained that both the carts were reserved, and that they would have to cancel the picnic." Lady Dorya raised her eyes to the heavens. "Of course the children wailed piteously, right on call!" She sighed. "What could I do? I wrote the note she required. A mother can hardly not do this sort of thing, now can she?"

§      §      §

"Could we find lunch somewhere and talk, Ma'm? I'm worried that I may have started off wrong on this case, and I'd like to discuss it..."

On two earlier occasions, Baron Brantwall had taken his betrothed to a small but charming patio restaurant not far from Howalt House. She suggested the place, and the Investigator agreed, a bit nervously, thinking that he would have to pay.

"Don't worry about the cost," the Lady said mischievously. "Brantwall has an account there. We'll charge it to him!"

The headwaiter's brows knit ever so slightly at the sight of two uniforms arriving -- work uniforms rather than dress. But he always operated on the presumption that no one entered his establishment if they were not the right sort of people. The lead guest removed his hat and proved to be a her. The headwaiter glanced at the name on her left breast, and then at her face.

"Ah, my Lady!" he exclaimed in a stage whisper that seemed loud to the two newcomers, but was so neatly projected as to be unheard by the other guests behind him. "It is so very good to see you again! ... Will the Baron be joining you today?"

"No. I have no idea where Brantwall may be... We need a quiet corner where we can talk in privacy, if possible."

"Of course, of course... This way please..."

They were seated and given menus. The Lady declined any drink stronger than fruit juice, and the Corporal followed her lead. The headwaiter disappeared.

At the bemused expression on Corporal Arinnot's face, the Lady asked, "What??"

"The obsequious headwaiter! I've seen the personage in dozens of plays... but this was the first time in real life... Of course I don't often go to upscale restaurants with nobles, either..." He grinned. "It's a bit fantastical!"

Lady Mansit smiled back, but the smile was perfunctory. Her gaze went away for a moment. When it returned, she smiled more genuinely and said, "You're right, and it's bothersome that you notice and I do not. I shall think on that!" She picked up her menu, closing that part of their conversation.

A waiter appeared and took their orders. He wrote nothing, provoking another knowing glance from the Corporal to the Lady.

"Yes," she said shortly. "Point taken, please do not belabor it.

"You said you had something to discuss," she said. "Why don't you lay it out now. Then I will have a moment to think about it while we eat. We can discuss it over coffee. The patio remains open as a coffee-shop all afternoon." She waited a beat before adding, "Please do not comment on that fact." She smiled self-mockingly.

"Yes, Ma'am. Here's my problem. I've been thinking about 'Captain' Haris Loggin. He's all wrong for this job. The children were accompanied by a woman and a handyman. A single hard man would have been enough, but there were five. And they weren't just hard men... they were stone-cold killers, all of them. They were just not the right men for abducting children." He grimaced. "But they were the right men if the job was actually to kill the children. They didn't have a shred of 'conscience' among the five of them!"

The Lady's eyebrows lifted and she breathed deeply. Her lips thinned. "Well..."

She sipped some apple juice. "Oh, my," she said, sighing again. "You said right from the start that something was off..."

They fell silent for a moment, and then their food arrived.

They ate in silence, other than a few comments by Corporal Arinnot on the excellence of the meal.

"I'll have the deep-roast coffee, please," she told the Corporal absently as they finished. She was staring intently at some imaginary point just beyond her plate.

The waiter cleared the table. Corporal Arinnot ordered two deep-roast coffees. Only when the coffee had been served, did he disturb her. "My Lady... your coffee..."

She glanced at the cup, and then raised her regard to the Watchman.

She breathed deeply and nodded. "I doubt that there is any harm done by our investigation thus far..." she said. "... but it was very much time to change strategies. You did well to insist on this conversation." Her eyes were vacant again.

"I think I see the way forward," she went on, focusing on the Investigator. "But I would prefer to hear what you think, first."

"Yes, Ma'am." He paused a moment to collect his thoughts. "Criminal investigations always have the same three paths to follow: motive, means, and opportunity. The Investigator must verify all suspects for all three paths... but may engage the case following any of those paths to detect possible suspects.

"We didn't see a clear motive at the start, probably because we didn't really understand the nature of the crime. As a result, we were following 'opportunity'. Who set the scene? Who gave 'Captain' Haris Loggin the opportunity?

"If we correctly understand the crime now -- the murder of the children, with their bodies either never being found or not being found for a long time -- then we probably should be taking the 'motive' path. What would anyone gain by the children's disappearance? And above all: 'who' stood to gain?" He fell silent, waiting.

The Lady mulled his words for only a few seconds. "Yes. That was my conclusion as well. It seems important to me to observe that the children have no hereditary position. No one would have improved their outlook by getting rid of the children. Secondly... if we assume that there was never to be any ransom, then 'Captain' Haris Loggin' had to be paid in some other way, and I presume that he and his band were not cheap."

"Yes, Ma'am. That's right. So... We are no longer looking at a crime of greed, but of passion. Of some emotion so strong that it excuses the murder of children. From someone with money."

"And 'someone' may be plural..."

"Yes, Ma'am... I suppose it could. I hadn't thought of that..."

"Get us some more coffee, please. I want to think this through again, once or twice. It could get very unpleasant."

§      §      §

Healer Kittel carved another strip of proud flesh from the wound she was debriding. The carter's chisel had slipped and gouged his leg. He had not come to the healer soon enough, so now he would suffer longer than necessary. The case was not dangerous, if the fool would just take care...

She was surprised and annoyed when the door to her treatment room opened. No one was allowed in here, except when she called them in. But the Watch grays registered, and she subsided. "Give me... " She looked at the work in hand. "... five minutes." She made a shooing gesture.

The visitors retreated, closing the door.

The healer poured a little peroxide over the wound, packed it with gauze, and wrapped the leg to hold it in place. "It isn't as well cleaned out as I'd like, but it will do for a couple days. Come back day-after-tomorrow. If the healing is going well, then I won't need to cut more. But if there's more proud flesh, then I'll have to debride it again."

"Yes, Mistress," said the man, nodding.

"Your leg is in no danger if you do as I say. If you don't behave, and the wound goes bad... "

He nodded vigorously, pulled his trouser leg down, and almost ran for the door. As soon as he left, the Watchman was back. Behind him was a small young woman in uniform. Unusual body: inordinately powerful shoulders and neck. Probably with biceps to match. Then she recognized the name embroidered above the woman's breast pocket.

"Be quick," said the healer. "I have patients waiting... as you saw when you passed in front of them..."

"You are the healer who came with the Howalt armsmen to collect Lorn, aren't you?"

"Don't waste our time, Corporal."

"Do you care for Howalt House in general?"

"Yes. In general. I have designated a few specialists, so the Howalt people sometimes go directly to them. But I am the family's generalist."

"What about pregnancies? Are you always the first resource?"

She considered. "Yes, I think so. What is this about, Corporal? You're very close to privileged information, there."

"We are investigating a major crime," said Corporal Arinnot, "so 'privilege' does not hold. We will ensure that no private information goes public, unless divulging it is essential to the investigation or the prosecution. You know the law, here."

"What 'major crime'? The kidnapping was interrupted... unless I am mistaken, by the person who is accompanying you..."

The young woman stepped forward. "I take it that you know a bit of law, Healer. Let me remind you that hindering an investigation renders a person accomplice to the crime being investigated. Let me be clear: repeating anything we say here may severely compromise our investigation." She smiled a very hard smile. "But let's not be unpleasant. There's no reason." She let pass a moment of silence. "Who at Howalt House is pregnant? Family and servants. And any frequent visitors, if you are aware of such."

The Healer did not answer immediately. Her lips thinned and her teeth clenched. She was preparing for a fight.

"Healer, listen to me!" said the Lady, low and with passion. "Someone wanted those children to die. To disappear. To never be found. Innocent children..."

The healer considered. Her face softened, became thoughtful. "Why do you need to know who is pregnant?"

"In truth, we are not sure it is relevant. There are... ... How shall I say this? ... There are a number of women 'of interest' to the case, although they may not be directly involved themselves. We do not want to influence you by naming them. If you name women who are of no interest, then we will forget that information immediately. But should you name some of those women 'of interest', you will be helping us find our path to the would-be killers."

"Killers? Plural? I know that you killed several kidnappers, but are you saying that there is more than one person behind the attempt?"

"We don't know," the Corporal broke in. "We are working on several hypotheses. That's why we are coming to you instead of talking to those women, and why we are asking you such an open question. We do not want to narrow down too quickly. We might miss our true prey. We must approach Howalt House indirectly, through you and a couple other outsiders who know the place."

Healer Kittel sighed, coming to a decision. "There are three, to my knowledge, my Lady. Mikki Twither, in the kitchens -- everyone knows about her, since she's seven months gone. And then two who don't show yet, so I don't know who may be aware. I don't gossip. Lueffa Thane, of the nursery, and Ginna Lestar, also in the kitchens."

"Do you know who the fathers are?" asked the Investigator.

"No. That is a rule for the healers: we never 'know' the father, even when he seems obvious. Mikki Twither is married, but we know that does not guarantee much of anything. She speaks well and kindly of her husband... but they were married for eight years before this pregnancy...

"The other two have boyfriends... but have had others in the not-too-distant past. I personally would assume nothing." She sighed again, unhappy with what she had done.

"Thank you, Healer," said the Investigator.

"Please, Healer," added the woman in uniform, "we have not said that we think any of these women are involved in any way. We don't know yet. And even if they are, it may be in a completely innocent way. So please, please... do not tell anyone about this conversation. You would surely perturb our investigation, and you might put these women in great danger. There is at least one killer in Howalt House. Do not provide motive for murder, Healer... please!"

§      §      §

"Lueffa would be a perfect suspect... except that she has never had more than a silver to her name. She was born into Howalt House and will die there. Her children will serve Lord Garid. This has probably been going on for generations," said Corporal Arinnot, over a mug of pale ale at the end of the day. The public house he had chosen was clean, cheerful... and cheap. The ale was light and sharp.

§      §      §

"That's assuming that Master Moller Howalt is the father..." responded the Lady, grimacing at her ale. It was a not-yet-fully-acquired taste. "If it isn't he, then Loueffa has no motive at all. And if Moller is the father, then..."

"Lady Dorya may also be in danger..."

§      §      §

A clerk led the investigators to Master-Accountant Gorten's office, across a nearly silent sea of massive, deeply polished dark-wood desks, with identically dressed men and women poring over ledgers, and then to the far end of a long corridor. On either side, doors spaced every three rods bore name-plates: "Master such-and-such, Senior Accountant". The door at the end read "Willin Gorten". No indication of rank or role was needed.

The clerk knocked. "Come!" came a strong voice. The clerk opened the door, waved them through, and closed the door behind them.

The office was not exaggeratedly large, nor conspicuously appointed. The furnishings were of quality leather and polished wood, several original paintings... But not opulent. Not overdone. The middle-aged man behind the desk was the same. Everything about him was in good taste: modest jacket, mildly ruffled shirt, medium-long hair. Eyes that showed interest but that would never be called piercing. Never too little nor too much. This man would always leave a good impression, but never a lasting one. That made a considerable impression on Wubi, considering the stature of the man's firm.

"Well!" he said. "The Watch! and..." He stood, and bowed. "... the Lady Mansit. ... I am honored, my Lady!" He looked back to Corporal Arinnot. "And most anxious to meet your companion, I'm sure..."

He gestured to the two stuffed chairs that faced his desk. They were in keeping with the scheme of the office: good leather and discretely carved wood. The seats were at exactly the same height as his own, neither higher nor lower. No one would dominate in this room. Not artificially, anyway.

Wubi confirmed her identity, getting another bow. "This is Senior Investigator Arinnot."

The two men nodded politely, and they all sat.

"We need some information about the accounts of one of your clients, Master Gorten," said Corporal Arinnot. "Here is our warrant." He held out a folded piece of paper.

The accountant took it and read it. "This says that your inquiry is about the attempted kidnapping. I therefore request that you give me some description of what you are looking for. It would not be very efficient to simply open all of Master Moller's accounts." He returned the paper to Corporal Arinnot.

"Of course not," agreed Lady Mansit. "We can be quite precise. We need to know of all significant movements -- more than ten golds -- over the last two months." Her face was absolutely immobile.

Master Gorten did not stir for a long moment. "I see," he said finally. He breathed deeply and pursed his lips. His left hand disappeared behind the desk, and a chime sounded on the other side of the wall to the left. A door there opened, and a younger version of Master Gorten entered. "Father?"

"Please prepare a list of all movements superior to 10 golds in the accounts of Master Moller Howalt over the last two months. Please do this yourself, with the utmost discretion."

"Yes, sir," said the young man, moving to the main door.

"Oh, and send in some tea, please..."

"Yes, sir," said the young man, exiting.

"A terrible thing, that episode," said Master Gorten. "I heard that you were directly involved, my Lady." It was not a question.

"Yes I was, Master Gorten. Lord Garid Howalt is teaching me to ride. We often go for a long ride -- a picnic -- on Lasdi, along with Garid's new Lady and my betrothed, Lord Brantwall. That day, we decided to catch up with the children, and all of us picnic together. The upshot is that we were able to stop the kidnappers."

The Master Accountant and the Lady sat there for a long moment, considering each other. Corporal Arinnot felt himself to be invisible, and was rather pleased by the fact.

"The children were going to be killed," said the Lady after a very long moment.

Master Gorten's reaction was limited to a slight retreat, sitting ever so slightly further back.

The following silence was almost as long as the previous, and then the tea arrived. A middle-aged woman served them all, looking down her nose at the corporal.

"May I see the warrant again, please, Senior Investigator?"

"Certainly, sir." Corporal Arinnot held out the paper.

Master Gorten read again, very carefully. His lips thinned. He let his discomfort show in a way that was completely at odds with his permanent and ever so carefully crafted blandness.

"May I?" asked the Lady, holding out a hand for the warrant. Master Gorten gave it to her. In her turn, she read it very carefully. She looked back to the Master Accountant, who had recovered his absolute equanimity.

"We have been played for fools, Corporal," she said. "By a master at playing the fool." She was watching the Master Accountant. He sighed and relaxed. Ever so slightly. "There is an error in this warrant, and you must hurry -- hurry to the judge and get it rectified." She pointed at a place in the document. "Not hi-i-i-i-i-m........." She stretched the word out.

Corporal Arinnot's glanced once again at the warrant, and then his eyes went wide. He turned beet red, clenched both fists, and appeared ready to burst with anger. "Give me one hour, I beg you, Master Gorten. We must close this case as quickly as possible, before more harm is done."

"My son and I will wait as long as needed," said Master Gorten.

§      §      §

It was Lasdi again, a week since the kidnapping attempt. The Howalt family, as was its custom, was gathered in the Dining Room, rather than the Small Room that they used most days.

On Lasdi, all family who happened to be in residence attended dinner. The Count headed the table with Lady Hanna on his left, and Garid and his Lady Liana on the right.

The Count's brother was visiting, along with two of his many children, neither of these being by his wife, but seeming well accepted by her. Lord Ionis had made his brother Baron when a small holding had gone vacant. These three sat to the Countess's left. One of the Count's cousins, seneschal for one of the several domains that were not contiguous to the bulk of Howalt, sat on Liana's right, along with his wife and a son in Army dress-greens.

Finally, on the left, were Moller and Dorya, and their two children.

This dinner went as most Howalt dinners did: the Count said little but seemed to listen well. The Countess recounted her adventures in Galdiff's high society, with a multitude of derogatory details for each of her "dear friends". Garid told stories, a few of them true and all of them entertaining. Liana slapped him behind the head several times, and gave him one great kiss on the cheek. The senior visitors closest the Count told of their absent family. The people at the far end spoke quietly among themselves or remained silent.

Midway through the meal, a servant brought an envelope to Garid. He extracted the note and read. Everyone fell silent. He waved the servant away, saying to all the diners, "Oh, this can wait until after dinner. It's nothing urgent."

After dessert, the Count announced, as he did every Lasdi, "Gentlemen, we shall retire to the library for brandy."

Garid rose instantly. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid that this evening we must change our habits a bit," he demurred. He turned and opened the door, just behind him. "Colonel, Corporal, if you please."

"Good evening, everyone. You may all go," said Lady Mansit on entering, "except Master Moller and Lady Dorya. I think it might be a good idea for you to remain, my Lord Count. You may too, Garid, if you wish. Everyone else, please go." She turned to a servant who had entered discretely. "Dame Iolen, please take care of the children."

Within a few seconds, the room was clear, except for the six whom Lady Mansit had retained. "My Lord," she said to the Count. "The investigation into the attempted kidnapping of your nephew and niece is concluded. I have the deep regret to tell you that the Watch is arresting Lady Dorya on the charge of attempted murder."

Moller Howalt was a very average man. Height, girth, everything... was nondescript. He had been standing next to his wife as Lady Mansit spoke. Now he turned to Lady Dorya, leaning away from her. His face was a mixture of bafflement and horror. "What... did..."

She stepped back, standing alone, breathing hard. "But taking two of your bastards to my bosom wasn't enough for you! Now there's another!" She was gasping, sobbing. "I won't have it! I will not have it! I want them all dead! Most of all, you son of a bitch... I want you dead! You... you..." Her voice died away in her weeping.

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