The Doktor's Spyglass

Chapter 2.2

He had stepped out onto the front steps for some fresh air and was trying to get his pipe lit when Abney reappeared, strolling like he had the day off. Thijis couldn't help but notice that he wasn't carrying anything with him.

"So?" he asked around his pipe stem when the man made it up the steps. "Where is it?"

Abney straightened in a way that suggested he was about to say something stupid or self-important or both. Thijis groaned.

"I'm to report directly to Inspector Krizner, Mr. Thijis," the boy said, ruining the effect by nervously sucking his teeth after he'd finished.

"Krizner's occupied," said Thijis, "you can report to me. Now where's—"

"Orders from Chief Inspector Gebbing, Mr. Thijis, you understand," said Abney. "Orders is orders, sir." The boy appeared quite pleased with himself.

"Listen to me, you little—"

Krizner's booming voice intervened just in time, saving Thijis the embarrassment of having to investigate his own assault on a young city constable.

"What is it then, Abney?" Krizner barked.

"Ah, sir," said Abney, back to sucking his teeth. "Chief Inspector, sir, he directed me to speak to you privately, sir..."

"Very well then, boy, step inside and let's have it." For all his defense of the boy as "not a bad sort," Krizner didn't appear to have much more patience for Abney than Thijis did. The two of them stepped through Helg's front doors and closed them. Thijis managed to get his pipe relit and puffed at it thoughtfully, wondering whether Gebbing was just being difficult or if Keynish Helg was less of a known quantity than he'd thought.

The suns stood out above the rooftops of the mansions across Kammerend Boulevard, and the street was busy with the lacquered carriages of the Oridosi upper crust. There wasn't enough foot traffic to constitute a crowd, but people were definitely beginning to notice their presence. Thijis watched as the constables at the bottom of the steps dealt with the onlookers, politely putting off the respectable ones and sharply chiding the servants and stable boys that stopped to gawk. Street rats and gutter trash would likely have merited a kick from these two, but there weren't any of either breed in Kammerend.

He had smoked down half a bowl of crab and decided on the next move in a standing game of chess he had with an old drunk at The Fourth Tribe by the time Krizner opened the door again. He came out alone, clearing his throat wetly and fishing in his jacket pocket for a cigarette. Coughing, he opened his cigarette case, selected a perfect, white cylinder, and started patting himself looking for a lighter.

Thijis' watch dinged, and he popped it open while offering Krizner his own lighter. The inspector flicked it a few times before he got a flame. Thijis heard the crackle as it lit and Krizner inhaled, the soft, squeaking sigh as he exhaled. The sudden sharp smell of cigarette smoke in the air. He let the man get another drag in before he asked.

"So?"

"So," Krizner said. "You want the short version or the long one?"

"Both."

"So would I, but short's all I got," said Krizner, spitting a gob of yellow phlegm onto Helg's granite threshold. "Gebbing wants us out. Sending in an Undersheriff and some of the Prosecutors' boys."

Thijis wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. This thing had been a whole different game of knocker since he found a wine cellar full of bodies. Stuffed-shirt brass, stomping around the place looking important? Sure. Gebbing's own portly presence, gliding like a hot air balloon through the crime scene? Maybe. Definitely a spin job for the press. But nothing like this. He'd choked a little when he heard it, but managed not to cough his lungs out. He hoped he wasn't turning green.