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Willa Dount marched in with a stack of papers. "You sent for me, madam?" She didn't seem surprised to see me—and shouldn't have since she had her agents among the staff.

"I've hired Mr. Garrett to hunt down the person or people responsible for the deaths of Amiranda, Karl, and Courter Slauce. He wants to ask you questions, Willa. Answer completely and truthfully."

I raised the eyebrow. Slauce too? Surprise, surprise. But certainly a point for her.

"Give those papers to Mr. Garrett."

She did so with ill grace. "You're a vulture circling this family, aren't you? You won't rest till you've picked its bones."

"If you take a quick count of the number of noses on your face, you'll come up with more than the number of times I've approached the daPena family soliciting employment."

"Your wit hasn't suffered any improvement."

"Willa. Sit down and be quiet. Restrain your prejudices and speak only when you're spoken to."

"Yes, madam."

Did the whip crack there, or did it crack?

Willa Dount planted herself in a chair, face blank and cool. If she was going to perch I was going to prowl. I rose, began moving, shuffling the papers. The kidnappers had gone to great lengths to make sure Domina Dount understood exactly what she was supposed to do. I slipped a finger behind the letters I'd met already, looked Willa Dount in the eye, and asked, "When did you first suspect that Karl's kidnapping was contrived?"

"When Amiranda disappeared. She'd been odd for weeks, and had her head together with Karl for days before he vanished."

Lie number one, straight out of the chute? Willa Dount should have been on the road to her payoff appointment before Amiranda made her break. Unless...

Unless she'd known beforehand what Amiranda planned.

"When did you begin to suspect the game had become real?"

"When I reached the place where I was supposed to hand the gold over. Those people weren't playing. They were deadly real. I'm afraid I almost lost my composure. I've never been that afraid."

"Describe the people you met there."

She frowned. I told her, "I've asked you before about the payoff. You wouldn't talk. It was your right at the time. But not now. So tell me about those people, and about that night." I thumbed the first letter I hadn't yet read.

"There were two closed coaches and at least four people. Two coachmen of mixed parentage, probably ogre and human. The ugliest man I've ever seen. And a fairly attractive young woman. The ugly man was in charge."

"You said at least four. What does that mean? Was there somebody else?"

"There might have been someone inside the woman's coach. Twice I thought I saw movement in there, but they made me stay on the wagon. I wasn't close enough to be sure."

"Uhm." I picked a spot near a good light and adjusted a chair. "From the beginning of that night. Every trivial detail."

She began. And soon I was hearing what I expected, a tale with no significant deviations from the one Skredli had told me. I lent her both ears and one eye while I skimmed the letters. Then I went over a few again. Then again. And finally I thought I saw what I'd half expected to see, though I'm no expert on forgery. Willa Dount reached her departure from the bridge over Cedar Creek. I didn't figure anything interesting happened after that. "Hold it there."

She stopped dead. And dead is the way I'd describe the voice she'd been using. She'd been under so much strain for so long she had very little fire left.

"That payoff setup was as queer as a nine-foot pixie. No swap on the spot—though I admit there wasn't a lot you could do once you got there. You couldn't run away. But they let you see them. And then they let you go without killing you. Knowing who you worked for. At a time when at least one of them knew there'd be a murder within a few hours."

"I can't explain that, Mr. Garrett. Death is all I expected when I realized that Karl wasn't there."

Unless you took out some kind of insurance, I thought. Like maybe not delivering the whole ransom, and, maybe, refusing to let the balance go until you and Karl were safe. Maybe even not knowing where the rest was, or saying you didn't, so they wouldn't try anything rough. There was something or you wouldn't be here now. I thought it but didn't say it.

"Did you hear any names mentioned? Did you get a good look at any of them?"

"No names. There was moonlight. I saw all four well enough to recognize again, though the woman and the ugly man stayed back. I have excellent night vision. Maybe they didn't realize how clearly I saw them."

"Maybe. It probably doesn't matter now, anyway. They're all dead but the woman."

She just looked at me. You couldn't crack her with a sledgehammer. I had everything I wanted to get with the Stormwarden watching. I was wondering how I could stall just as Amber let herself in. Raver Styx made no pretenses and no excuses. She stood and left.

Amber whispered, "I didn't find anything in her quarters. She doesn't keep a journal or—"

"You don't have to talk behind my back in front of me, Amber. Spit it out."

I nodded.

"The accounts didn't look jiggered. The silver was sold for anywhere from seven to fifteen percent below market. I'm not sure, but I'd guess that would be reasonable in the circumstances. Whatever, the price of silver has fallen enough that now the buyers are the losers."

That was my Amber, keeping up with the metals market despite everything.

"Who did the buying?"

She handed me a list.

"Interesting. The top name here, Lyman Gameleon, is down for a hundred twenty thousand at the maximum discount. Gameleon is one of our big-three suspects."

Even that didn't rock Willa Dount. She said only, "It was an emergency and I went where I had to go to get enough gold. The Stormwarden has examined the accounts of these transactions and expressed no disapproval."

A thought. Maybe even an inspiration. "Do you recall the dates and times of the transactions, Amber?" She had not noted those.

"No. Should I go get them?"

Willa Dount said, "That won't be necessary. I remember." She rattled off every deal as though she was reading from the record. The timing made it conceivable that the deals themselves had initiated the chain of complications. Or, at least, could have led to intensive recomplication.

"Did Gameleon know what the gold was for?"

"Lord Gameleon, Garrett," Domina scolded.

"Look, I don't care if you call him Pinky Porker. Just answer the question."

"Yes. He had to be told before he'd deal."

I'd already established, to my own satisfaction, a link between Gameleon and Donni Pell. "Was that wise?"

"In retrospect, probably not. But at the time Lord Gameleon was a last resort."

"Hardly. But let's not fight about it. That's it for tonight."

"Tonight?"

"I'll need you again tomorrow. Early. We're all going to walk this through."

She gave me a puzzled look as she rose. What chicanery was I planning?

"Find the Baronet and send him in," I said.

I'd grown impatient and irritable by the time the door opened. And that opening didn't make anything better. Willa Dount and Raver Styx came in, the Stormwarden looking like one of the tempests she brewed. "Will you want to question the staff, Mr. Garrett?"

"Where's your husband?"

"I don't doubt the answer to that question would be quite interesting. He left the house shortly after you arrived. When last seen he was entering the house of Lord Gameleon, his half-brother, who lives across the street. Lord Gameleon admits that he was there earlier but denies that he is now. About the staff?"

There was no juice left. My candle had begun to gutter. "The hell with them. I can tie the knot on it without them. I'm going home to get some sleep. Meet me at my place at eight, ready for a trek upcountry. Don't let anybody else wander off. Make a production of leaving so anyone interested will know something is up."

"As you will, Mr. Garrett. That will be all for tonight, then, Willa."

I asked, "Amber, are you coming or staying?"

Staring at the floor, she replied, "I'll go with you. But I need to get some things first."

I guess that was as close as she could come to telling her mother to pick her nose with her elbow. The Stormwarden developed a severe tick in her left cheek but she said nothing. She understood battles lost as well as battles won. The first thing I did when we got to the house was write a letter to Morley Dotes. I had one of the neighbor kids deliver it. Then I brought the Dead Man up to date and feigned an effort to pry a few secrets out of him just to keep him feeling wanted. I joined Amber in the kitchen, where we shared one of Dean's finer productions. Then I stashed myself away for the night. My dreams, which I usually don't recall, weren't the kind I'll treasure forever.

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