Low Town Read Free Page B

what passes for an investigation among the guard? A suspect is found standing beside a murdered child and you converse cordially with him over the corpse? Do your job and search this man!”
    Wendell’s dull face blushed. He shrugged apologetically and moved to pat me down.
    “That won’t be necessary, Agent Guiscard,” Crispin interrupted. “This man is … an old associate. He is above suspicion.”
    “Only in this matter, I assure you. Agent Guiscard, is it? By all means, Agent Guiscard, search me. You can never be too careful. Who’s to say I didn’t kidnap the child, rape and torture her, dump her body, wait an hour, then call the guard?” Guiscard’s face turned a dullshade of red, a strange contrast to his hair. “Quite a prodigy, aren’t we? I guess that set of smarts came standard with your pedigree.” Guiscard balled his fist. I swelled out my grin.
    Crispin cut between the two of us and began barking orders. “None of that. There’s work to be done. Agent Guiscard, return to Black House and tell them to send a scryer, if you double-step it there might still be time for him to pick something up. The rest of you, set up a perimeter. There’s going to be half a hundred citizens here in ten minutes and I don’t want them mucking up the crime scene. And for the love of Śakra, one of you find this poor child’s parents.” Guiscard glared at me ineffectually, then stomped off. Wendell and the rest of the guardsmen fanned out.
    I shook some leaf out of my pouch and started to roll a smoke. “New partner’s quite a handful. Whose nephew is he?”
    Crispin gave a half smile. “The Earl of Grenwick’s.”
    “Good to see nothing’s changed.”
    “He’s not as bad as he looks. You were pushing him.”
    “He was easy to push.”
    “So were you, once.”
    He was probably right about that. Age had mellowed me, or at least I liked to think so. I offered the cigarette to my ex-partner.
    “I quit—it was ruining my wind.”
    I wedged it between my lips. Years of friendship stretched out awkwardly between us.
    “If you discover something, you’ll come to me. You won’t do anything yourself,” Crispin said, somewhere between an inquiry and a demand.
    “I don’t solve crimes, Crispin, because I’m not an agent.” I struck a match against the wall and lit my smoke. “You made sure of that.”
    “You made sure of that. I just watched while you fell.”
    This had gone on too long. “There was an odor on the corpse.It might be gone by now, but it’s worth checking.” I couldn’t bring myself to wish him luck.
    A crowd of onlookers was forming as I left the cover of the alleyway, the specter of human misery always a popular draw. The wind had picked up. I pulled my coat tight and hurried my steps.

Back at the Staggering Earl the weekend trade was in full swing. Adolphus’s greeting echoed off the walls as I fought my way through the tight ranks of patrons and took a seat at the bar. He poured a glass of beer and leaned in as he handed it to me. “The boy arrived with your package. I put it in your room.”
    Somehow I had expected the urchin would come through.
    Adolphus stood there awkwardly, a look of concern on his mangled face. “He told me what you found.”
    I took a sip of my drink.
    “If you want to talk …”
    “I don’t.”
    The ale was thick and dark, and I made my way through a half-dozen drafts trying to get the sight of twisted hands and pale, bruised skin out of my head. The crowd surged around me, factory workers finished with their shifts and bravos planning the night’s escapades. We were doing the kind of business that reminded me why I was part owner, but the mass of amiable lowlifes imbibing cheap liquor were poor company for my mood.
    I drained my cup and stood. Adolphus waved away a customer and came over. “You leaving?”
    I grunted assent. The look on my face must have betokened violence, because he put one huge paw on my arm as I turned away.
    “You need a