Book 02 - Bitter Gold Hearts Read Free

to listen.” She tried to stare me
down. I stared back. “I don’t usually have much grief
to spare for uptown folks. When the fates want to stick them I say
more power to them. But to kidnapping I take exception.”
    She scowled. I give the woman this—her scowl was first rate. Any
gorgon would have been proud to own it. “What else did she
tell you?”
    “That was it, and getting it took some work. Maybe you can
tell me more.”
    “Yes. As Amiranda told you, the younger Karl has been
abducted.”
    “From what I’ve heard, there aren’t many more
deserving guys around.” Karl Junior had a reputation for
being twenty-three going on a willful and very spoiled three. There
was no doubt which side of the family Junior favored. Domina Dount
had been left to keep it civilized or to cover it up.
    Willa Dount’s mouth tightened until it was little more
than a white point. “Be that as it may. We aren’t here
to exercise your opinions of your betters, Mr. Garrett.”
    “What are we here for?”
    “The Stormwarden will be returning soon. I don’t
want her to walk into a situation like this. I want to get it
settled and forgotten before she arrives. Do you wish to take
notes, Mr. Garrett?” She pushed writing materials my way. I
figured she supposed me illiterate and wanted to enjoy feeling
superior when I confessed it.
    “Not till there’s something worth noting. I take it
you’ve heard from the kidnappers? That you know Junior
hasn’t just gone off on one of his adventures?”
    By way of answering me she lifted a rag-wrapped bundle from
behind the desk and pushed it across. “This was left with the
gateman during the night.”
    I unwrapped a pair of silver-buckled shoes. A folded piece of
paper lay inside one. “His?”
    “Yes.”
    “The messenger?”
    “What you would expect. A street urchin of seven or eight.
The gateman didn’t bring me the bundle till after breakfast.
By then the child was too far ahead to catch.”
    So she had a sense of humor after all. I gave the shoes the full
eyeball treatment. It never works out, but you always look for that
speck of rare purple mud or the weird yellow grass stain that will
make you look like a genius. I didn’t find it this time,
either. I unfolded the note.
We have yore Karl. If you want him
back you do what yore told. Don’t tell nobody about this. You
be told what to do later.
    A snippet of hair had been folded into the paper. I held it to
the light falling through the window behind the secretary’s
desk. It was the color I recalled Junior’s hair being the few
times I had seen him. “Nice touch, this.”
    Willa Dount gave me another of her scowls.
    I ignored her and examined the note. The paper itself told me
nothing except that it was a scrap torn from something else,
possibly a book. I could go around town for a century trying to
match it to torn pages. But the handwriting was interesting. It was
small but loose, confident, the penmanship almost perfect, not in
keeping with the apparent education of the writer. “You
don’t recognize this hand?”
    “Of course not. That needn’t concern you,
anyway.”
    “When did you see him last?”
    “Yesterday morning. I sent him down to our warehouse on
the waterfront to check reports of pilferage. The foreman claimed
it was brownies. I had a feeling
he
was the brownie in the
woodpile and he was selling the Stormwarden’s supplies to
somebody here on the Hill. Possibly even to one of our
neighbors.”
    “It’s always reassuring to know the better classes
stand above the sins and temptations of us common folks. You
weren’t concerned when he didn’t come home?”
    “I told you I’m not interested in your social
attitudes or opinions. Save them for someone who agrees with you.
No, I wasn’t concerned. He sometimes stays out for weeks.
He’s a grown man.”
    “But the Stormwarden left you here to ride herd on him and
his father. And you must have done the job till now because there
hasn’t been a