Wrede, Patricia C - Mairelon 01 (19 page)

           
"Surprise,"
Kim said sourly. "Long way from
London
,
ain't it, Stower?"

           
Stower's
face darkened. "I'll
London
you! You think you're going to nick a few of the yellow boys Laverham's
offering, don't you? Well, you ain't getting nothing. This is my lay, see?
How'd you get here ahead of me, anyways? You didn't follow the old cove from
the inn. I'd a seen you."

           
"Just
luck," Kim managed. She felt sick. After Stower's hints, Mairelon and
Hunch would never trust her again.

           
"Sorry,
Master Richard," Hunch said in tones of chagrin. "I thought as I 'ad
shook 'em off the trail in
London
."

           
"But
Mr. Stower wasn't in
London
,"
Mairelon said, and Kim nearly jumped when she felt the unmistakable crystalline
quality of the words. Surely Mairelon couldn't mean to try a spell on a man
holding two pistols at his head?

           
"He
was in Ranton Hill," Mairelon went on, and the sharp edge of magic was
clearer and more threatening than before. "He should still be in Ranton
Hill. He should go back to Ranton Hill before something happens to him,
tzay
min po,
katzef
!"

           
Jack
Stower's face contorted, as if in fear or pain. He gave a strangled cry and
hurled one of his pistols at Mairelon. Instantly Hunch
dove
sideways, knocking Mairelon out of the way as Stower turned and plunged into
the wood behind the wagon. Kim threw herself down as the pistol hit the ground
and went off, sending a bullet whistling through the empty air where Mairelon's
chest had been a moment before.

           
"The
shotgun, Hunch," Mairelon said, panting slightly. "He's still got one
pistol, and that spell was only a makeshift. It won't hold him long."

           
Hunch rolled
to his feet and ran for the wagon without wasting time on words of
acknowledgment. Kim picked herself up and followed, pausing just long enough to
scoop up Jack's bag and the silver platter that lay beside it. Mairelon was the
last one inside. He barred the door behind him, then reached up and pressed a
knothole in the ceiling.

           
There was
a barely audible click. Mairelon set his palms flat against the ceiling and
pushed, and a two-foot section lifted up half an inch,
then
slid back out of the way. "The gun and a lift, Hunch, if you please,"
Mairelon said softly.

           
"You
'adn't ought to be doing this, Master Richard," Hunch grumbled, but he
handed Mairelon the shotgun and knelt. Mairelon set a hand on the edge of the
opening in the ceiling and a foot in Hunch's cupped hands, and a moment later
slid noiselessly out onto the roof of the wagon.

           
Kim
watched this performance with considerable admiration.
The
speed and smoothness with which it was done spoke of much practice, and she was
impressed by the forethought that had designed the hidden panel in the ceiling.
After a moment, it occurred to her to wonder just how often Mairelon and Hunch
had had to make use of this particular device. It threw a whole new light on
their possible doings in the past.

           
The minutes
ticked slowly by. At last, Mairelon's head reappeared in the opening. "No
sign of him," the magician said. "He's gone for now. Here." He
handed the shotgun down to Hunch, then climbed down through the hole.
"I'll have to see about setting up some wards; we can't have people
popping in and waving pistols around whenever they feel like it. It's becoming
altogether too popular a sport to ignore."

           
"Like
that Aberford cove the other night," Kim said, nodding.

           
"And
just what 'as that got to do with all this?" Hunch demanded. "What
'ave you been at while I've been gone, Master Richard?"

           
"Back
to that again? Really, Hunch, I'm beginning to think you're prudish, and I see
no reason for Kim and me to elaborate on our relationship merely to satisfy
your vulgar curiosity.
Particularly when we have more
important things to do."
Mairelon smiled beatifically at Hunch's
outraged expression and waved toward the sack Kim was holding. "Just open
that up, Kim, so we can see what our Mr. Stower has been hauling about the
countryside."

           
Kim
deposited the silver platter on the floor and began wrestling with the knots at
the mouth of the sack. She got them loose at last and reached inside. A moment
later she held up a large silver platter, to all appearances identical to the
one on the floor.

           
"Well,
well," said Mairelon. "What have we here?" He reached out and
took the platter from Kim, and a frown creased his forehead.

           
"It
looks like this other one," Kim said, nudging the first platter with her
toe.

           
"That's
exactly what it is," Mairelon said.
"Exactly."

           
"What
does that mean?" Hunch said in a resigned tone.

           
"It
means that it's another fake," Mairelon replied.

           
Hunch
stared at the platter in Mairelon's hands. "
Another
fake?" he
said at last. "You mean that one--" he nodded at the platter on the
floor, "--ain't the Saltash Platter,
either
?"

           
"That
is correct," Mairelon said. He turned the second copy over in his hands,
studying it with a thoughtful expression. "Kim," he said suddenly,
"
bring
it over here and hold it up so I can look
at them both."

           
Kim did
as she was instructed. Mairelon peered intently at a section of the platter he
held,
then
turned to Kim's. After a moment, he
returned to the first platter and repeated the process. There was a smear of
dust above his left eyebrow, and Kim wondered how he could keep from noticing
it, even if his reflection was blurred by the intricate patterns incised on the
surface of the platters.

           
Finally
Mairelon set his platter on the counter. With a relieved sigh, Kim did the same;
Saltash Platter or not, all that silver was
heavy.
Mairelon stared
absently down at them both.

           
"Well?"
Hunch demanded.

           
"Two
copies," Mairelon said, more as if he were thinking aloud than as if he
were answering Hunch.
"Two
identical
copies.
Identical right down to the scuffs and scratches.
Whoever made these wasn't working from a description or from drawings."

           
"Then
he had the real one to copy?" Kim said tentatively.

           
"I
would be willing to bet on it," Mairelon replied. "So if we find the
silversmith, we'll find the Saltash Platter."

           
Hunch
snorted. "Sounds to me as if you're back where you started, Master
Richard."

           
"Not
quite," Mairelon said, and smiled. "There's only one person in this
area
who's
had the platter long enough to make copies.
Freddy Meredith."

           
"Meredith?"
Kim said incredulously. "You're bammin' me!
That
sapskull?"

           
"I'll
admit it doesn't sound likely," Mairelon conceded. "But who else is
there? Bramingham only had the platter for a day or so; he couldn't have gotten
one
copy made in that time, much less two. None of the other, er,
interested parties has even been in Ranton Hill long enough, much less had the
platter in his possession."

           
"What
about that Aberford cove?" Kim objected.

           
"Well,
yes, I suppose he ought to be considered a possibility," Mairelon said.
"But I don't think he would have tried to burgle
Bramingham
Place
the other night unless he thought the
platter there was the real one."

           
"Burgle
Bramingham Place
?"
Hunch said. His lips tightened, causing his mustache to wiggle alarmingly.
"Master Richard--"

           
"Yes,
I hadn't forgotten about you," Mairelon interrupted. He seated himself on
top of the chest and looked at Hunch with an air of expectancy. "I assume
Shoreham told you something worth hearing, or you wouldn't have come back so
promptly. Let's have it."

           
Hunch
rolled his eyes. Kim suppressed an impulse to grin, as much at Mairelon's
tactics as Hunch's reaction. She wondered how long Mairelon would be able to
keep from explaining to Hunch just what he had been doing in his henchman's
absence. She sat down cross-legged on the floor and waited for Hunch to begin.

           
" 'Oo
do you want to 'ear about first?" Hunch
asked.

           
"Jack
Stower, since he has intruded on us so recently."

           
" 'E's
a nasty piece o' work," Hunch said.
" 'E
lives in St. Giles, far as anyone can tell,
thieving and suchlike. Lord Shoreham says 'e ain't
no
different from most of the scum as follows 'is profession, and the most
interesting thing about 'im is 'is master."

           
"Who
is Dan Laverham," Mairelon said. "We'll have him next, but not before
we're finished with Mr. Stower. Did Shoreham find out when Stower left
London
?"

           
" 'E
left the day after we did," Hunch replied.
"Lord Shoreham found someone 'oo was drinking Blue Ruin with 'im the night
afore 'e left, and 'e says Stower was mumbling 'ints about some errand 'e was
going to do for Mr. Laverham."

           
Mairelon
looked interested.
"Hints?
What sort of
hints?"

           
"Mysterious
'ints," Hunch said. "Lord Shoreham didn't say
no
more than that."

           
"How
like him," Mairelon murmured.
"Very well.
What about Mr. Laverham?"

           
" 'E's
a bit of a puzzle. 'E lives in the rookery, but
'e dresses and talks like one o' the
ton.
And 'e went to 'Arrow."

           
"
Harrow
!"
Mairelon looked startled. "How did a boy from
St. Giles get into a school like that? He
is
from St. Giles?"

           
"Far
as Lord Shoreham knows," Hunch said, nodding. "As for 'Arrow,
somebody paid 'is fees."

           
"He's
probably the by-blow of someone with both a conscience and the money to indulge
it, then," Mairelon said thoughtfully. "Unfortunately, the
combination is not so unusual that it is instantly apparent who Laverham's
presumed parent is."

           
"That's
what Lord Shoreham thought," Hunch said.
" 'E
said 'e'd talk to some of 'is friends in the City and see if one of 'em could
track the money, but it ain't much of a chance."

           
"I
wonder how well Laverham did at
Harrow
?
They're strong in Latin and Greek and wizardry, as I
recall."

           
Kim
choked. "You mean Dan Laverham is a
wizard
?"

           
"If
he was educated at
Harrow
, he ought to know the basics,
at least," Mairelon replied. "Don't let it trouble you."

           
"Easy
enough for you to say," Kim muttered. She didn't know what a first-class
frog maker could do to someone, but half-formed images of the horrible
possibilities whirled through her mind. Their very vagueness made them worse
than actual knowledge would have been.

           
"Anything else?"
Mairelon asked, turning back to
Hunch.

           
"Mr.
Laverham 'as a name in some parts as the man to see if you want something done
and you ain't fussy about 'ow. 'E
ain't never
been
caught doing nothing wrong, though."

           
"That's
Dan, all right," Kim said in an undertone.

           
"Yes,
thanks to Kim, we probably have more information about Mr. Laverham's criminal
activities than Shoreham does," Mairelon said. "Did he have anything
to say about Marston or Fenton?"

           
"Mr.
Jasper Marston is 'ead over ears in debt," Hunch told them.
" 'E's
supposed to be rusticating right now, to get
away from 'is creditors."

           
"And
Lady Granleigh has promised to assist him to a rich marriage if he helps her
with whatever labyrinthine plans she has set in motion," Mairelon said.

           
Hunch
looked startled.
" 'Ow
do you know that?"

           
"Kim
overheard them talking," Mairelon said.

           
" 'E's
Lady Granleigh's younger brother, and Lord
Shoreham said 'e was a bit of a slow-top," Hunch resumed. "When 'e
ain't wasting 'is money on cards and 'orses, 'e does what 'is sister tells
'im."

           
"That
has become fairly evident. Shoreham didn't mention Marston's man, Stuggs, did
he
?"

           
"No."

           
"Ah,
well. One can't have everything, and I didn't ask." Mairelon stared
pensively at the window for a moment. Then he looked up and said, "I
believe that leaves James Fenton."

           
Hunch
grinned. The unaccustomed expression made him look positively fiendish, and Kim
was completely taken aback by the change. Mairelon took one look and came to
attention like a skilled sharper sighting a promising dupe.

           
"Fenton's
the black sheep of 'is family," Hunch said, still with that disturbing
grin. "They're mostly respectable tradesmen
. '
E
seemed clever, so they 'ad 'im put into service. 'E started off as a
footman."

           
"Indeed."
Mairelon's eyes narrowed. "And what house was he in service to?"

           
"Lord
St. Clair's," Hunch said with great satisfaction.

           
"St.
Clair!"

           
"
And
'e was dismissed the day after the
Colony Queen
left the docks,"
Hunch added.

           
"Huh?"
said Kim.

           
"The
Colony Queen
was the ship Hunch and I took when we, er, fled the country
after the Saltash Set was stolen," Mairelon said. "So Fenton was
dismissed right after the theft was blamed solidly on me, was he? I wonder if
he knows something about it."

           
"Lord
Shoreham thought 'e might," Hunch said.
" 'E
also thought you'd be interested in knowing that on the night the Saltash Set
was stolen Fenton 'ad some unscheduled free time."

           
"Unscheduled?
You mean he took French leave?"

           
"No,
'e 'ad Lord St. Clair's permission," Hunch said.
"
'E
just wasn't supposed to 'ave that night off, Lord Shoreham
says."

           
"Well,
if Shoreham says Fenton was supposed to be working that night, he's probably
right," Mairelon said. "I don't know how he comes up with these
things, but he hasn't been mistaken once in five years. What has Fenton been
doing since
he
, er, left St. Clair?"

           
"Mucking
about 'ere and there
. '
E did a few jobs for some of
them 'ousebreakers, but 'e ain't 'ad no honest work until six weeks ago, when
'e upped and 'ired on at Meredith's 'ouse."

           
"Six
weeks," Mairelon said, frowning. "Time enough for him to find out
about the platter and notify St. Clair, if that was why he was here. But if St.
Clair let him go--"

           
"Couldn't
it have been a blind?" Kim said. "That Lord St. Clair, he sounds like
a fly cove; maybe he didn't want any ties to a looby like Fenton. If the two of
them nabbed that silver stuff you're always on about, then--"

           
Mairelon
shook his head. "No, no, I can't believe St. Clair was involved in the
original theft. He'd have to be completely lost to all sense of honor."

           
"And
I suppose he wasn't a Captain Sharp if all he did was peach on you to the
nabbing culls?" Kim said scornfully.

           
"It's
not the same thing," Mairelon said.

           
"I
don't see why not," Kim told him. "Anyway, lords aren't that
different from other folks. If they want somethin' bad enough, they'll try to
get it however they can, and never mind the right and wrong of it."

           
"What
a remarkably cynical philosophy to find in one so young," Mairelon said,
staring at Kim.

           
Kim
shrugged, only half understanding. "I'm not that young; I'm rising
seventeen, I think. And I don't see what my age has to do with how people
are."

           
The
muscles in Mairelon's jaw
tensed,
and for a moment he
looked positively angry. Then he said gently, "It's not a matter of how
people are, Kim; it has to do with how they ought to be. We'll discuss it some
other time, perhaps. Though I still don't think St. Clair had anything to do
with the theft, if only because he'd have kept the Saltash Set for himself
instead of splitting it up and selling it. He'd had his eye on it for years; he
wouldn't have given it up easily."

           
"Oh,"
Kim said, disappointed. "Then we still don't know who stole it?"

           
"Don't
look so cast down," Mairelon said. "We'll find out eventually.
Meanwhile, we have a few other things to take care of."

           
"What
things?" Hunch asked, squinting suspiciously at his master.

           
"St.
Clair is staying at
Bramingham Place
,"
Mairelon said. "So is Renee D'Auber. And it is evidently no secret that
the Saltash Platter--or rather, an exceedingly good copy--was in Henry
Bramingham's possession until the night before last. I doubt very much that all
this is merely a coincidence."