Part 6 (1/2)

He pointed at the little handgun he was still holding in his hand.

”Now you take your gun, here, sir. The--”

”It isn't my gun,” Sir Pierre interrupted firmly.

”I was speaking rhetorically, sir,” said Master Sean with infinite patience. ”This gun or any other gun in general, if you see what I mean, sir. It's even harder to place the owners.h.i.+p of a gun. Most of the wear on a gun is purely mechanical. It don't matter _who_ pulls the trigger, you see, the erosion by the gases produced in the chamber, and the wear caused by the bullet pa.s.sing through the barrel will be the same. You see, sir, 'tisn't relevant _to the gun_ who pulled its trigger or what it's fired at. The bullet's a slightly different matter. To the bullet, it _is_ relevant which gun it was fired from and what it hit. All these things simply have to be taken into account, Sir Pierre.”

”I see,” said the knight. ”Very interesting, Master Sean.” Then he turned to Lord Darcy. ”Is there anything else, your lords.h.i.+p? There's a great deal of county business to be attended to.”

Lord Darcy waved a hand. ”Not at the moment, Sir Pierre. I understand the pressures of government. Go right ahead.”

”Thank you, your lords.h.i.+p. If anything further should be required, I shall be in my office.”

As soon as Sir Pierre had closed the door, Lord Darcy held out his hand toward the sorcerer. ”Master Sean; the gun.”

Master Sean handed it to him. ”Ever see one like it before?” he asked, turning it over in his hands.

”Not _exactly_ like it, my lord.”

”Come, come, Sean; don't be so cautious. I am no sorcerer, but I don't need to know the Laws of Similarity to be able to recognise an _obvious_ similarity.”

”Edinburgh,” said Master Sean flatly.

”Exactly. Scottish work. The typical Scot gold work; remarkable beauty. And look at that lock. It has 'Scots' written all over it--and more. 'Edinburgh', as you said.”

Dr. Pateley, having replaced his carefully polished gla.s.ses, leaned over and peered at the weapon in Lord Darcy's hand. ”Couldn't it be Italian, my lord? Or Moorish? In Moorish Spain, they do work like that.”

”No Moorish gunsmith would put a hunting scene on the b.u.t.t,” Lord Darcy said flatly, ”and the Italians wouldn't have put heather and thistles in the field surrounding the huntsman.”

”But the _FdM_ engraved on the barrel,” said Dr. Pateley, ”indicates the--”

”Ferrari of Milan,” said Lord Darcy. ”Exactly. But the barrel is of much newer work than the rest. So are the chambers. This is a fairly old gun--fifty years old, I'd say. The lock and the b.u.t.t are still in excellent condition, indicating that it has been well cared for, but frequent usage--or a single accident--could ruin the barrel and require the owner to get a replacement. It was replaced by Ferrari.”

”I see,” said Dr. Pateley somewhat humbled.

”If we open the lock ... Master Sean, hand me your small screwdriver.

Thank you. If we open the lock, we will find the name of one of the finest gunsmiths of half a century ago--a man whose name has not yet been forgotten--Hamish Graw of Edinburgh. Ah! There! You see?” They did.

Having satisfied himself on that point, Lord Darcy closed the lock again. ”Now, men, we have the gun located. We also know that a guest in this very castle is Laird Duncan of Duncan. The Duncan of Duncan himself. A Scot's laird who was, fifteen years ago, His Majesty's Minister Plenipotentiary to the Free Grand Duchy of Milan. That suggests to me that it would be indeed odd if there were not some connection between Laird Duncan and this gun. Eh?”

”Come, come, Master Sean,” said Lord Darcy, rather impatiently. ”We haven't all the time in the world.”

”Patience, my lord; patience,” said the little sorcerer calmly. ”Can't hurry these things, you know.” He was kneeling in front of a large, heavy traveling chest in the bedroom of the guest apartment occupied temporarily by Laird and Lady Duncan, working with the lock. ”One position of a lock is just as relevant as the other so you can't work with the bolt. But the pin-tumblers in the cylinder, now, that's a different matter. A lock's built so that the breaks in the tumblers are not related to the surface of the cylinder when the key is out, but there is a relation when the key's _in_, so by taking advantage of that relevancy--Ah!”

The lock clicked open.

Lord Darcy raised the lid gently.

”Carefully, my lord!” Master Sean said in a warning voice. ”He's got a spell on the thing! Let me do it.” He made Lord Darcy stand back and then lifted the lid of the heavy trunk himself. When it was leaning back against the wall, gaping open widely on its hinges, Master Sean took a long look at the trunk and its lid without touching either of them. There was a second lid on the trunk, a thin one obviously operated by a simple bolt.