Part 33 (1/2)

”Did you find him?” asked James.

'Yes, squire. He's got that little shop at the end of the jetty, the sign of an anchor and two crossed oars. He's a chandler.”

”Did you talk to him?”

”No,” said Jonathan. ”I watched from a distance to make sure the shop was open, then came here.”

”Good,” said James. ”Get back to your regular duties. And make sure you thank your father for finding out that this man was back in the city.”

Jonathan left and James considered what to do next. Lacking a better choice, he picked the bold one and made his way to the shop Jonathan had described.

As he reached the shop with the sign of the s.h.i.+p's anchor over two crossed oars, James's mind raced as he debated what to say. He hesitated for a moment, then opened the wooden door, causing a tiny bell to ring.

A man of middle years, but with gray hair bordering on white, turned as James entered. He was heavy-set, but not fat. His brow furrowed a little and he said, ”I'm about to close, young sir. Can your business wait until morning?”

James said, ”Is your name Donald?”

The man nodded, and he leaned upon the counter. Behind him sat items common to any chandler's shop in the Kingdom: barrels of nails, tools, coils of rope, anchors, and other fittings.

”I'm Squire James, of the Prince's court,” he said, pausing to see if there was any reaction.

The man displayed none. Finally he said, ”I know the royal purchaser, lad. Now, if he didn't send you, tell me why you're here so I can go home and get off my feet.”

James smiled. The man wasn't remotely daunted by his mention of the Prince, as James had suspected he wouldn't be. ”Actually, my business is more in the area of law enforcement, these days.”

Again, no reaction.

”Your name turned up on a list recently.”

There was a slight whitening of the man's knuckles upon the counter, but otherwise he was immobile and his expression remained unchanged. ”What list?” he asked evenly, his light blue eyes fixed upon James.

”A list of people murdered in the city recently.”

”The killings? I heard of them. Well, as you can see, I'm not dead. I don't know how my name got on such a list.”

”Where have you been these last five weeks?” asked James.

The man forced a smile. ”Visiting family up the coast. I left word with several people. I'm surprised no one told the constables I was away for a month.”

”I'm surprised, too,” said James. ”Perhaps you could tell me who you told?”

The man shrugged. ”A couple of lads at the local tavern. I mentioned it to several s.h.i.+ps' purchasers. And I told Mark the sailmaker next door the night before I left.”

James nodded. He was certain the sailmaker had been told at the last minute, and that the other men he claimed he had also told would turn out to be difficult to name. ”Well, then,” said the squire, ”when you turned up missing among all the murders going on, it was not unreasonable to make the a.s.sumption that you were among the dead.”

”I suppose so,” said the chandler. ”Have you stopped the killings?”

James said, ”For the most part. There's still some b.l.o.o.d.y work down in the sewers, thieves and the like, you know how that goes.”

”Not a place for honest men,” said Donald. ”But what about above ground?”

”Things are as they were,” said James, ”before the murders, more or less.”

The man said, That's good to know. Now, if you have no more questions, squire, I must get home.”

James nodded. He said, ”We'll talk again, I'm sure.”

The man followed James to the door, and as it closed James turned to catch a final glimpse of the man's face. James considered. He was almost certain he had just spoken to the Upright Man.

The Mockers would return, and there would be a continuation of the struggle with the Crawler and his men, but with the Nighthawks deeply wounded, the mayhem in Krondor would subside for a while.

James walked away. One thing Arutha had taught him: from chaos comes opportunity, and while the Upright Man was rebuilding his criminal empire, James stood a good chance of getting an agent or two into the Mockers. With what he knew of the structure of the Guild of Thieves, he was certain he could coach the proper candidate to pa.s.s scrutiny. The problem was finding the proper candidate.