Chapter 7

We found Mr. Whithers cleaning up the dining room, as Reeds snored nearby with his head down on a nearby table. An empty cup sat before him, and I let out a soft sigh. It seemed I would have to drive if we wanted to get out of town at any reasonable hour tomorrow. My shoes were silent as I moved and sat at the bar. Rita moved around to the side, posting up near the swinging door that would allow the man access to our side of the room.

He could run into the kitchens from his position, but I was willing to bet Rita was faster. From the nervous way he glanced between us, I suspected he assumed the same thing. His smile was muted, but he still spoke in the chipper and professional tone I had come to expect.

“Good evening, sir. Here for a nightcap? Or are you here to help me move Reeds? Sheryl will kill me if I let him hurt himself sleeping all night on the table, and my back isn’t what it used to be.”

“I’d be more than happy to help, but first, I was hoping you could answer some questions.” My gaze locked onto his, and I could see how nervous he looked. As though he had broken a promise on how many supplies he intended to send me.

“Of course, sir.” His smile remained, but I watched him tug at his collar. “Although, may I mention how good it is for you to help those children? Good kids. A shame what happened to their father.”

In response, my smile turned slightly sinister. “I’m sure. They’ll do fine. But about my questions. How much can you really tell me about The Lace Courier Company? More importantly, why would they be hiding things in graveyards?”

“In our little graveyard, sir? No one has gone out there because of the monster. They’re a reputable company. I’ve had packages and letters delivered both here and from afar by them.”

His fingers twitched, and he fidgeted again, and I didn’t miss the way he glanced towards Rita. She watched him impassively, her tail still and her ears turned in our direction. While her hand wasn’t directly on her sword, I doubted he didn’t know how little that mattered.

“So it would come as a shock to learn that there wasn’t a monster?” I asked, my words casual.

The intake of breath was a simple sign. So many people in the world thought that they could hide things, most couldn’t. Be it partners trying to hide money from other owners or workers making excuses for why the work wasn’t done. None of it mattered. Rule one of the world was that people lied.

“I’m not here to hurt your business,” I promised him. “Nor you. All I want to know is if they’re going to be a problem?”

His professional tone faltered, and he glanced towards Rita, clearly trying to calculate a way out of this situation. “For you? No. Not if no one tells them.”

“Which, of course, will cost.”

“Naturally.”

Although he spoke the words of a confident man, it was obvious by his tone he didn’t consider himself among that number. That favoured me in some ways. It meant whatever bribe he would demand would be cheaper. I thought of the coins we had taken from the grave. Ten of those twenty would go towards an investment in Witch’s Brew. I would want to keep another five for personal expenses depending on how exciting the rest of this trip would be.

“One gold,” I said, a deliberate lowball offer.

For the briefest moment, he appeared tempted, but then he shook his head. “If you knew what I did, you would understand why that’s not feasible. Thirteen.”

“Three.” I leaned against the counter and gestured to Rita. “She’s already dealt with one problem tonight. Are you going to be the second one?”

That got me a scandalized look from both of them, but I ignored it. My heart was pumping, and I could feel the adrenaline coursing through me. He was going to drop his price; I was sure of it. It was like I saw through him and heard his very thoughts. What he had wasn’t a secret, I bet, not really.

“Is that a threat?” He spluttered.

“Yes.”

He stepped back. “Tell you what. Four. Four gold for all your information, a hand getting Reeds to bed, and I’ll make sure we’re gone in the morning. I’m not interested in causing you trouble, Mr. Whithers. But I’m a Fixer, information is my bread and butter and I want yours.”

“Six.” He whispered the words. “And you have a deal.”

I leaned back again, my hands flat against the table, a display that showed I didn’t have a weapon. “Five?”

“Five then.” He didn’t sound happy, but that didn’t bother me.

A delightful feeling coursed through me at the completion of a successful deal. It made me want to put out a genuine smile, though Poker Face stopped that. Instead, I pulled the money from the small bag, and then placed the coins onto the counter one by one. By the time the sound of the fifth one faded from the air, he stood enthralled. When he reached out, I quickly swept them back into the bag.

“Information first.”

While Mr. Withers didn’t appear pleased, he obliged. I sat and listened as he explained everything he knew about the Lace Courier Company. They were a recent business, one that had bloomed from a small thing in the capitol to a country wide enterprise. Rumours said they were owned by a single man and were backed by the crown. When I brought up the fact I hadn’t heard of them, he shrugged.

“As I told you earlier, sir. They aren’t a business that deals with anyone but the ultra wealthy and roadside Inns. They keep a low profile for those who want discretion.”

“Discretion is well and good, but you said they worked all over the country. If it’s true that they started this year, I feel more people would be talking about it,” I said, my fingers tapping against the countertop.

Rita shrugged, and I glanced in her direction. “You may recall you didn’t recognise my business.”

“I say this with no offense intended, but you aren’t a country wide operation.” She didn’t appear to take offense as she tipped her head to me in response, and Mr. Withers let out a soft snort. “But fine. They’re unknown. I have to admit, I have had my head buried in fishing reports and piracy of late. But is that all you know? You don’t know who runs it? Who works for them? Hiring policies?”

Mr. Whithers shook his head, his gaze fixed on where the coins were supposed to be. “No sir. I’m not exactly part of their inner sanctum. I ask them to deliver things for me on occasion. Letters to family. Packages to clients who had left things behind. That’s all.”

“Including poisons?”

He ran. Before he was halfway through the door, Rita grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and tossed him back. I shifted as his body hit the counter with a thud and he cried out in pain. His eyes were wide, and I heard Reed’s cough behind us before he snored once again. I looked down at him, looming over the man. My hands were trembling. This wasn’t really my work. Others did the messier deeds. All I needed to do was write the contracts for it.

“Why were you shipping poisons?” I asked, my voice low.

“It came to me. I was just part of the chain.” Mr. Whithers glanced around, as though expecting an escape route. Instead, he found Rita’s sword pointing in his direction. “Honest. I didn’t know what was in it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “But you ran.”

“You knew. Is this what this is? Are you here on their behalf? Did you trick Reeds? I didn’t sell you out. I swear. Please don’t kill me.”

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“We won’t kill you.” Rita snorted, the sound harsh and beastial.

“No, not when we have a deal.” I agreed. “Mr. Whithers, I assure you I do not work for the Lace Courier Company. I can also assure you our deal remains. Five gold, for everything you know. Rumours. Discourse. Names. Whatever you have. We inadvertently ruined one of their plans, and I want to be ahead of any enemies we may have made tonight.”

As he stammered, I let out a sigh at how true that statement was. If we had made them our enemy, then it was likely I would have to take Rita’s job, for the promised safety if nothing else. As it would give me the protection of three, I assumed capable mercenaries, and would get me far enough away from any large groups of people who should feel the need to bother me.

“I don’t know names. Even Timmy, the guy you ran into? He told me his name was Jhonas. Aside from the rumours backed by the royal family, there aren’t many. We all know they carry illegal packages. Some people say they’re run by the royal spymaster, or maybe they’re a subsidiary of the Peol Mercs. No one knows.”

Across from me, I noticed the way Rita tensed at the mention of the mercenary group. I resolved to ask her about that, but not right now. Not when Mr. Whithers was still giving information, though most of it was of questionable value.

“I’ve heard they have enforcers. Men and women who transport people. I’ve only met two or three of their crew, two men and one woman. The packages arrive and stay here for a few days before they vanish again. Sometimes multiple times a month, and sometimes not at all. None of them knew my name. Each paid a gold coin for a room.”

“A full gold?” I frowned at that, and he nodded, an odd motion while he was still laying on the counter.

“Yes.”

“So they’re rich then. What do they charge you to deliver any normal packages?” I asked, trying to figure out how their business model worked.

“A silver.” He sounded terrified. “They carry real packages and letters for me too. That wasn’t a lie, I swear. I have a sister, two towns over. She can vouch for me. Please, that’s all I know.”

“Do you believe him?” I asked Rita, curious to hear her opinion. “I assume you’ve had your fair share of things like this.”

She shook her head. “No, I mostly deal with wild monsters. But, for what it’s worth, I think he’s telling the truth. Why lie now?”

“Why indeed?” I chuckled and gestured for her to let him up.

He climbed from the counter slowly and then turned shakily to face me. “Thank you, sir.”

“We had an agreement.” I placed the coins back on the counter and pushed the pile towards him. “These are yours, and now you wanted some help with Reeds, I believe?”

He glanced at Rita and then at me before he spoke in a harried tone. “Yes, please.”

“Of course. Lead on.”

It didn’t take us long for us to get Reeds to his room, and Rita and I retired to bed not long after. Neither of us took his offer of a nightcap. Though I lay on the bed, my gun heavy in my hand, and it did not surprise me when I spotted the first rays of sunlight coming in through the shutters. Sleep deprived and anxious, I rose from my bed, prepared to start my day.

***

When I arrived at the cart, without Rita, who hadn’t responded to my knock on her door, I found the children sleeping. Maddison had her hat over her face, and was laying with her head on Theo’s shoulder. Her brother was sleeping soundly, though I noticed he had a small knife in his hand. I wondered where he had gotten that, as I stood nearby and loudly clapped.

Both woke up with a start, and I noticed with interest the way Theo moved to defend his sister. He looked about, knife raised. When he saw me, he calmed somewhat, but gave me a dour look. By contrast, Maddison smiled and looked around. I knew without her needing to ask who she was looking for.

“Miss. Thrumlin isn’t here, and neither will I be for long.” My hand went into my pocket and I pulled out a bag of coins, putting them on the counter. “For you. An investment.”

Theo approached the bag first, and his eyes went wide when he counted it. He looked at me, as though unsure, then snatched it and held it to his thin chest. When Maddison asked what it was, he whispered it to her, and she bowed to me. I felt weird about that, but Poker Face kept my expression neutral.

“What should we invest in?” She asked.

“Another product. Better clothes. Supplies. Yourselves. Master Theo, you need to learn to read. Miss. Maddison, find someone who can teach you mathematics. Both of you need to learn how to manage money.”

She was nodding, but Theo didn’t, his attention still on the bag. “And what if someone tries to take it?”

“Then hire someone to make sure that doesn’t happen. Or get a good lockbox. Learn to fight. Keep it hidden if you have to.” I paused and looked between them. “But your best bet is to spend it quickly. Build yourselves up. Don’t sit on it.”

“Yes sir,” they both chorused.

“Good kids.”

With that, I left them a way to contact me, and then moved on. My walk took me through town, and soon enough, I arrived at the mayor’s office. Once again, the secretary walked me to his door, and I waited until I heard his voice.

“Come in!”

I walked in and saw him dressed impeccably, with a small stack of coins on the desk before him. When I sat down in the offered chair, he leaned in, and I could see he had even taken the time to wax his moustache. Was he overcompensating for greeting me in his nightclothes the previous evening, or did he have another appointment after mine? It didn’t matter in the end. All I wanted was to get my money, and then leave this town before it caused me more trouble.

“Ahh, you have our payment. Thank you, Mayor. I appreciate it,” I said, as I reached out to take the money.

He didn’t stop me, and instead he smiled and waved me on. “Of course, of course. As Mayor I’m more than happy to honour my contracts. Fine work you did, though it’s a pity about that man. You mentioned he was a courier, didn’t you? I’ll have to track someone down. Find his next of kin.”

“I’m sure they would appreciate that.” I did my best to smile. “Though, perhaps, if you could keep our names out of the proceedings? These types of things have a way of turning sour. Heightened emotions and all that.”

“You don’t want the credit?” He looked scandalized at the very idea.

I shook my head. “No need. The credit should go to you. Your swift decision to make sure someone killed that ferocious beast was a credit to the town, and your leadership.”

“Even if no one can find the beast’s body.”

He spoke the words so casually that I almost let slip a startled question. Instead, I forced myself to take a small breath, and then I nodded.

“We didn’t want it to disturb the townsfolk. They don’t need to see the monster interfering with their dead, plus a headless corpse beside. I’m sure you can understand that?”

For a time, we simply watched each other, and then he gave a slow nod. He understood. It was obvious he knew that the man we had killed was the monster. A simple inspection of the enchantment would show him that the fact was that pinning us for his death helped no one. People could understand a mindless beast digging up the dead. A person, though, came with more sinister connotations. Ones he didn’t want to deal with.

“Of course, of course.” His smile was insincere, but I would take it. “But you should leave. It was a pleasure. Mr. Burling, wasn’t it?”

“Yes sir. If you ever need a Fixer, and I’m not on contract, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”

Once again, we shook hands, and with gold bouncing in my pocket, I turned and left the building.

***

Reeds didn’t wake up as we loaded him into the wagon. The old man stirred and snorted, but Rita calmed him down with little trouble. I hitched up the horses and said a quick goodbye to Mr. Whithers. He didn’t appear disappointed to see me go, not that I blamed him. Then soon enough, we were away and on the road.

As the wind blew through my hair, and the sound of hooves on the dirt road filled my ears, I relaxed. Memories of my time traveling with my father, the few times he took jobs outside the city, resurfaced. I would often sit next to him. His presence was like a solid wall beside me as I watched the scenery go by. Even now, I could almost hear him whispering at me to check how I held the reins and to make sure I kept left for anyone who might pass us.

Not that there was anyone else on the road. We travelled all day, with Reeds waking up at noon. He complained of a hangover, and I told him in return for his kindness I was more than happy to drive for him. Though the old man argued, Rita put him in his place, with a few words about his wife and a promise to make lunch.

It wasn’t a complicated affair, some simple picnic items she had picked up in town. After which, Reeds returned to the coach to sleep, and she joined me up on the driver’s bench. We didn’t talk, not for a while, and then she asked me a question.

“What do you think of what happened?”

“Which part?”

I turned to her, and once more I found myself struck by how easily I could see her as a merchant’s daughter. The summer blue dress she wore was too much at odds with the sword at her waist, though I knew the ankle-length skirt wouldn’t do anything to hinder her movements. Although the plays my father often dragged me to would claim otherwise, any excuse for a playwright to get the lead into something shorter.

“The fact that I killed him.” She glanced at me. “You were upset. Which is strange for someone who is considering mercenary work.”

Poker Face negated the grimace that tried to ruin the moment. “It wasn’t his death I found distasteful. He had information. Ideas. I wanted to speak with him before he perished. We could have found out if he was working alone, or how long they had done this for. Why poisons were being delivered in the open, but cloth headbands and gold were being tucked away. His death, in a sense, was a waste.”

“So you’re not against killing?” The question was blunt, and I responded in kind.

“There’s no blood from this incident on my hands.”

She gave a small nod, and then lapsed into silence, though I couldn’t help but wonder exactly what she was thinking as we drove.