Guards of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk and Fisher (Hawk & Fisher) (19 page)

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Authors: Simon R. Green

BOOK: Guards of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk and Fisher (Hawk & Fisher)
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“We have to find the freak,” said Jamie. “Find him and kill him. He’s too dangerous to be allowed to live.”
“Right,” said David. “If we don’t find him before he feeds again, he could be the only living thing left in this Tower when the wards go down tomorrow morning.”
Holly paled suddenly, and turned away. Arthur looked hard at David. “Steady on, old chap. You’re frightening the girls.”
“Shut up, Arthur,” said Jamie. “This is serious.”
“Are you sure we can kill the freak?” said Marc. “He’s not human. Perhaps he can’t be killed by ordinary methods.”
Alistair nodded thoughtfully. “You mean like silver for a werewolf, and a wooden stake for a vampire?”
“Perhaps the reason why they didn’t kill him is because they couldn’t,” said Marc slowly. “If that is the case, the wisest thing for us to do would be to lock ourselves up in our rooms, barricade the doors, and wait it out till morning. As soon as the wards go down, we could make a run for it.”
“And leave the freak free to turn on the city?” said Jamie. “Hundreds of people could die before he was finally hunted down and destroyed. The Secret of the MacNeils would become the Shame of the MacNeils. I can’t allow that. The freak is our responsibility. It’s a Family problem. And we have to deal with it.”
“Besides,” said Hawk quickly, “splitting up is a bad idea. There’s safety in numbers.”
“So you keep saying,” said David. “What’s the matter, Richard? Can’t you cope without someone to hold your hand?”
“That’s enough, David!” said Jamie sharply. “Richard’s done very well by us so far. Now listen to me, all of you. There’s still one source of information we haven’t consulted, and that’s my father’s will. There may be something in the will that can help us, so Greaves and I will set up the right conditions for the reading. It may take a little time, and I think we could all use a break to freshen up, so I suggest you all repair to your rooms and compose yourselves until we’re ready down here. But, just to be on the safe side, I think it might be wise if no one was to be left on their own. So choose a partner and stick with them at all times. Happy now, Richard?”
“Not really,” said Hawk. “But it’s better than nothing. I’ll look after my sister.”
“Of course,” said Jamie. “Aunt Katrina, if you’d be so kind as to look after Holly ...”
There was a brief rumble of conversation as the others sorted themselves out. David and Arthur paired up together, leaving Marc and Alistair to form the final pair. Neither of them looked too happy about it, but they both made diplomatic noises. Brennan realized he was left on his own, and quickly volunteered to help set up the reading of the will.
There was a pause after that as everyone waited for everyone else to make the first move. Jamie broke the mood by nodding curtly to Greaves and Brennan to help him dismantle the barricade at the door. It was soon done, and everyone set off up the stairs to the bedrooms on the next floor, eyeing each other suspiciously when they thought no one was looking. Hawk still wasn’t happy about the group splitting up, but Jamie was the authority here, not him; he couldn’t push the matter too hard without arousing suspicions. Besides, he could use the opportunity to talk with Isobel in private. He always did his best thinking when he could discuss things with Isobel. And he had a strong feeling he was going to need all the help he could get on this case.
5
 
Plans and Secrets
 
Hawk and Fisher watched closely as the others disappeared into their rooms on the second floor, and made careful mental notes as to who was staying where. You never knew when information like that might come in handy. Jamie escorted Hawk and Fisher to their room, and even opened the door for them. Hawk thought about offering him a tip, but decided Jamie wouldn’t see the joke. Jamie made the usual polite remarks about hoping they’d be comfortable, and Hawk made the usual polite remarks in reply. Then they all smiled at each other, and Jamie went back down the corridor. Hawk immediately closed the door, locked it, and put his back against it. His chin dropped forward onto his chest, and he let out a long slow sigh of relief. Fisher made vague grunts of agreement from where she lay stretched out full length on the bed, indifferent to the damage it was doing to her dress.
“I never knew behaving respectably could be such hard work,” said Hawk finally. “I’ve done so much smiling it feels like I went to sleep with a coat hanger in my mouth. I don’t know if I can keep this up till tomorrow morning.”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” said Fisher unsympathetically. “At least you don’t have to be sociable and cope with a corset at the same time. My waist isn’t on speaking terms with the rest of me.” She sat up slowly and carefully, levered off her fashionable shoes, and wriggled her toes gratefully. “I don’t know how women can bear to wear those things. My feet are killing me.”
Hawk threw himself into the nearest chair, slumped back, and stretched out his legs before him. It felt good to be able to relax, even if only for a while. The chair was almost sinfully comfortable, and Hawk closed his eyes the better to appreciate it. Some moments were just too precious to be interrupted. But it didn’t last. There were too many more important things clamouring for his attention. He opened his eyes reluctantly, and glanced round the room Jamie had given them; just on the off chance he’d spot something that would let him ignore his problems for a while, till he felt better able to deal with them. The room looked back, determined not to be helpful.
It was fairly luxurious as far as Quality standards went; and Quality standards went pretty far. There were thick rugs on the floor, an assortment of classically elegant furniture, and a bed with a mattress deep enough to swim in. Paintings of famous military scenes covered the walls (military art was in that Season), and half a dozen small nude statuettes smiled and posed tastefully on alabaster pedestals. And over by the window, half hidden by drapes heavy enough to block out the harshest sunlight, stood the room’s own private liquor cabinet. Hawk smiled. Now, that was what he called civilized. He started to lever himself up out of his chair, but Fisher intercepted his gaze, and shook her head firmly.
“You’ve had enough for one day, Hawk. Let’s try and concentrate on the matter at hand. Namely, what the hell is going on here? Every time I think I’ve got it worked out, something else happens that throws it all back up in the air again.”
“It’s not really as confusing as it seems,” said Hawk, settling back in his chair. “It just looks that way because we don’t have all the facts yet. Or if we do, we haven’t got them arranged in the right order. What’s really complicating the hell out of things is that we’re dealing with two separate cases here. On the one hand we have an escaped killer freak, disguised as one of us by an illusion, while on the other hand we have our missing spy Fenris, disguised as one of us by a shapechange. We can’t sort the two cases out because they keep interfering with each other, and we can’t tell which evidence belongs to which case.”
“Could that be deliberate?” said Fisher, thoughtfully massaging her left foot and staring off into the distance. “Maybe Fenris recognized us despite our disguises, and let the freak loose himself, as a way of throwing us off his trail.”
“I don’t think so,” said Hawk slowly. “The way we look now, our own creditors wouldn’t know us. And from the mess the freak made of his cell wall, I don’t think he needed any help in getting out. But certainly. Fenris could be using the situation to keep the waters muddy. I would, in his shoes.”
“He might know who we are, regardless of our disguises,” said Fisher. “There could be a leak at Headquarters. Hell, half the force is on the take these days, one way or another.”
“True. But how many people actually know about us? Commander Dubois, Mistress Melanie, and that sorcerer doctor, Wulfgang. That’s all.”
“That’s enough,” said Fisher flatly. “Whatever information Fenris has, it must be bloody important to have panicked the Council so badly. And if it’s that important, it must be worth a lot of money to the right people.”
Hawk thought about it. “All right. There’s a chance Fenris knows who we really are. Which means we can’t trust anyone here.”
Fisher smiled. “What’s new about that?”
Hawk scowled. “I can’t believe we’ve been here all this time and we’re still no nearer identifying Fenris. Look: We know Fenris went to the sorcerer Grimm for an emergency shapechange. That means the body he’s got now isn’t his usual one. Which means we can eliminate all the people here who can prove they’ve had the same form for more than twenty-four hours.”
Fisher looked at him. “That’s brilliant, Hawk. Why didn’t we think of that before?”
“Well, we have been rather preoccupied.”
“Right,” said Fisher. “So, that cuts out Jamie, Katrina, and Holly. And the two servants, Greaves and Brennan.”
“And Lord Arthur,” said Hawk. “I’ve met him before. And since Arthur and Jamie have both known David for some time, that just leaves Alistair and Marc.” Hawk nodded slowly to himself. “And we’ve already established Alistair is lying about where he comes from; he didn’t know the Red Marches are flooded these days.”
“Yes,” said Fisher, in a voice that indicated she was about to get picky. “But he does seem to know a hell of a lot about MacNeil Family history. How would our spy know things like that?”
“He could if he was a friend of the MacNeils in his true form. According to Jamie, his Family have a long history of bad feelings with the Court. Which would explain why Fenris made a beeline for Tower MacNeil in the first place. But, on the other hand ...”
“We shouldn’t dismiss Marc out of hand. Do we have any actual evidence against him?”
“Nothing so far. He’s a quiet sort; hasn’t much to say for himself at the best of times. Doesn’t seem to care much for us, but we can’t drag him off in chains just for that.” Hawk frowned. “But ... in all the time we’ve been here, Marc hasn’t volunteered one thing about his past; not a single damned thing about who or what he was before he came to Tower MacNeil. Interesting, that.”
Fisher shook her head. “Just because he hasn’t opened up to us doesn’t mean he hasn’t talked to the others.”
“True. So, for the time being I think we’ll concentrate our attention on Alistair, as far as finding the spy is concerned. Tracking down the freak is going to be rather more difficult.”
“Why? Once again it has to be someone not well known by the others. The freak might have taken on someone else’s memories, but he’s still stuck with his own face. So, we’re back to Marc and Alistair again. And if Alistair is Fenris, then Marc has to be the freak. Right?”
Hawk shook his head regretfully. “Nice try, Isobel. Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.”
Fisher groaned. “Somehow I just knew you were going to say that. All right, what have I missed this time?”
“You’re forgetting the illusion spell the freak cast to cover up the hole in the wall on the third floor. It’s quite possible the freak is still messing with our minds, to make us see someone else’s face, instead of his own. Which means he could be anyone. Male or female. And with complete access to that person’s memories, there’s no way anyone’s going to trip him up with an unexpected question.”
“Oh great,” said Fisher. “So where does that leave us?”
“Wait. It gets worse. It seems to me the freak may be interfering with our minds in other,
subtler
ways as well. Jamie seemed quite determined to split up the group, despite everything I’ve said, and everyone else just went along with it. Which is rather unusual, considering this bunch can’t normally agree on anything without several minutes worth of arguments, insults, and recriminations. Perhaps the freak influenced everyone to accept Jamie’s idea, in order to make us easier targets.”
Fisher looked at him thoughtfully, still holding her bare foot absently in her hand. “It’s possible, I suppose. But how could we tell, one way or the other? And besides, if they’re all being influenced, why aren’t we? If the freak was controlling the way we think, then this idea wouldn’t have occurred to us at all. Would it?”
“That’s a good question,” said Hawk. “Wish I had a good answer.”
“Hell,” said Fisher. “I’d settle for a bad one.”
 
Holly sat unhappily in her chair by the fire while Katrina Dorimant studied her makeup in the dressing-table mirror. Looking good, thought Katrina contentedly.
Don’t look a day over twenty-five. Not bad for an old broad past forty. Graham never did appreciate me, rot his socks.
She smiled. Graham might not have, but there were those who had. Sometimes in Graham’s own bed. He never was very observant. She pouted at her reflection. It was all his fault anyway. If he hadn’t spent all his spare time and money on his silly politics, instead of lavishing it on her, they might still be together.
She’d told him right from the start; she was prepared to put up with a lot of things from him, but coming second wasn’t one of them. She expected all his attention all the time. She wasn’t unreasonable; she realized he had commitments. She just wanted him to be there when she needed him. What was so unreasonable about that? Things had been different when they first met. He’d been all over her then, bright and witty and attentive, always ready with a smile or a compliment or an out-of-season flower. When he finally worked up the nerve to ask her to marry him, long after she’d decided to accept, he’d promised her faithfully that she’d always come first with him. Graham was always very big with promises. She should have remembered that promises were a politician’s stock in trade.

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