A Little Knowledge (17 page)

“You let him go?”

“Yes, sir.” Max tried to read Rupert’s expression. The Sorcerer of Albion seemed more incredulous than angry. “I questioned him first.”

“And then you decided it was better to give him a slap on the wrist and make him into a spy than hauling him in front of the Patroon, like regulations dictate?”

“I did.”

Rupert grinned and clapped Max on the shoulder. “That’s great!” He looked at the gargoyle, whose stone eyebrows were higher than usual. “And you weren’t with him, obviously.”

“Obviously,” the gargoyle confirmed.

“I don’t understand why you’re so pleased.” Max watched Rupert toss his report into a tray on his desk. One of his golems—Benson or Hedges, it was impossible to tell—rolled over and cycled through the attachments on its right arm like a robot from the back of a 1950s comic book. It picked up the report with the pincers it had chosen for the task, swivelled around, and wheeled to a filing cabinet on the other side of the room, narrowly avoiding the gargoyle, who scowled at it with suspicious stone eyes.

“You made the right call, and that was to fuck regulations in the ear. You used initiative. That’s awesome!”

“All Arbiters use initiative in the field.”

“Ah, but not while breaking the rules, Max.” He rested his hand over his heart. “I’m proud of you, you rebel. Now all we need to do is teach you how to use a computer to write your reports and we’ll be golden.”

“I also need the use of a holding room, in the Nether,” Max said. “Somewhere secure to put a puppet into for interrogation when I make an arrest.”

“I’ll sort that out.” Rupert sat down on one of the new office chairs.

Now the office had three desks, two of which had computers resting on them. There were chairs, a handful of filing cabinets, waste-paper bins, and even a large potted plant. The space was still mostly empty, though. In the far corner of the room was the camp bed that he’d slept on. He had no idea where Rupert was living now, and it was clear Rupert wanted to keep it that way.

“Where’s Kay?” Max asked.

“She’ll be here any minute. She wanted to walk from her hotel to the office via the streets reflected into the Nether, to get her head around the city.”

“But she’ll be vulnerable!” the gargoyle said, appalled.

“Oh credit me with some sense,” Rupert snapped. “I gave her something to protect her, not that I think she’ll need it. Lavandula saw you bust the Peonia and get your Arbiter on. He knows the city is still being policed.”

“You need to decide what to do about him wanting to see Ekstrand,” Max said as the lift pinged. “Perhaps you should introduce yourself as his replacement, otherwise—”

“No,” Rupert said. “If I do that it’ll be all over Albion before you could say ‘more tea, vicar, no thank you, it makes me fart.’ And if that happens,
she’ll
know. The best thing for me is for everyone to think I’m dead.”

Max and the gargoyle had speculated about the woman behind the destruction of the Chapters and the murder of the other Sorcerers. The only thing they knew about her was that she seemed to be the sister of the late Sorcerer of Essex, Dante. Where she was now, what she planned to do next, and why she’d committed all those murders was beyond anyone’s knowledge. “I know why you want to stay hidden, but it’s not the best thing for the innocents,” Max said. “Lavandula needs to be convinced that…” He stopped as Rupert stood up and patted his pockets. “What are you looking for, sir?”

“All the fucks I give about Lavandula and what he thinks…oh, that’s right, there aren’t any.”

“But—”

Rupert picked up one of the pencils in a pot on his desk and flipped and caught it again. “Look, I know you’re worried about what the parasites will do, but honestly, it’s several orders of magnitude less important than what that woman will do next. You don’t slaughter all the Sorcerers in the world and hundreds of people just for shits and giggles. She’s got more planned and what’s really getting on my tits is that I have no fucking idea what that is.
That
is the thing to be worried about. I don’t like having a mortal enemy who’s developed her own blend of magic, and I like her running around doing fuck knows what without my knowledge even less.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” Kay asked as she walked over.

“I’m working on something. It’s not ready yet. So in the meantime, you need to get up to speed.”

“I have about ten thousand questions,” Kay said, dumping a small rucksack on the second desk. “Morning.” She smiled at Max and then gave a second, nervous smile to the gargoyle. It grinned back, baring so many stone teeth that she shuddered and busied herself with her bag and computer.

“I can answer them,” Rupert said. “And Max here can do Arbiter stuff”—this was accompanied by a vague wave of the hand—“but only after you help me get some books, Max.”

“I can get books,” Kay said.

“Not the ones I’m talking about,” Rupert replied. He looked at Max. “They’re in Ekstrand’s library. I gave that librarian of his—”

“Petra,” the gargoyle said, making Kay jump.

“Yeah, her, I gave her a list of the ones I wanted but she still hasn’t brought them over. I’ve phoned three times but there’s always an excuse. I want you to go over there with me to pick them up.”

“You’re worried about magical protections?”

“No! That Petra woman obviously doesn’t trust me. And she sounds all weird on the phone. She knows you. She might be more cooperative if you’re with me.”

“Is this the lady who might come and work with us?” Kay asked.

Rupert shrugged. “I thought so, but she hasn’t left the house since her old employer died, so it’s all a bit up in the air at the moment. Ask the gargoyle those questions whilst we’re out. He’ll know most of the answers about the Fae-touched and how they’re policed, right, Max?”

Max nodded and the gargoyle padded silently over to Kay, who shrank back from it, her wheeled office chair moving away with her. “Ask me anything you like,” the gargoyle said, grinning again.

“Do you bite?”

“Not people I like,” it replied as Rupert grabbed his coat.

“Brill, okay then, see you later. Don’t eat her,” he said to the gargoyle. “Don’t look so scared!” he said to Kay. “It’s only a lump of stone with a soul trapped inside it, animated by arcane means.”

She scowled at him. “We need to discuss my pay,” she added as they left. That was met with another wave of Rupert’s hand.

Rupert’s hire car was parked in an allocated space at the back of the building. Max got in the passenger side, resting his walking stick next to the door once it was shut. As the engine started the car was filled by a noise that Max could only assume was some sort of modern music. Rupert switched it off and pulled out into the city centre traffic.

“Are there any topics that shouldn’t be discussed with Kay?” Max asked, aware that she’d found the courage to start asking the gargoyle questions.

“Not that I can think of. We need to bring her up to speed as soon as we can. She’s got a brain like one of those super-absorbent kitchen towels, Max, like on the adverts, you know.”

“No, sir.”

“So retentive. And she has a capacity for logic and problem-solving that’s just a fucking joy to see in action.”

“She seems to be handling it all very well.”

“Yeah. I thought she would. She always seemed disappointed with the world. I think I just made it complicated enough to hold her interest. I might make her my apprentice.” He started to laugh.

Max tried to fathom the joke and failed. “I thought there were rules against women being taught the arcane arts.”

“There are. But who’s left to get on my case about them now? Fuck the rules. Listen, have you heard anything about Margritte Semper-Augustus Tulipa on your excursions into the Nether?”

“No. The Tulipas are primarily resident in Londinium and Oxenford, as far as I know. Is she causing problems?”

“Maggie? No. I’m just worried about her. I have no fucking clue what’s happening in Oxenford and…” He shrugged. “It’s complicated. I want to clear the air with her. We sort of fell out over…something. You got any contacts in Londinium?”

“Yes. Would you like me to ask about her whereabouts and well-being?”

“Yeah, that’d be awesome. Shitting crikey, I need to get control of the traffic system here. I can’t be doing with all these pissing red lights.”

They travelled the rest of the way across the city in silence punctuated by Rupert yelling obscenities at other drivers. Occasional snippets of the gargoyle’s conversation with Kay floated into Max’s consciousness. She seemed very excited by the concept of his soul being trapped inside the gargoyle by the chain that hung round its neck, forgetting her fear of it with each question.

“How did you meet Kay?”

“I heard about her from one of the Dons at the university. She helped me with a riddle. One sent by Ekstrand, funnily enough. I couldn’t crack it. She got it in, like, ten seconds. We became friends after that. Can’t be arsed with stupid people, Max. They bore me.” He pointed down the road they were driving along. “Down there on the right?”

“Yes. Do you know fifty more people as clever and adaptable as Kay?”

“Not that I’d be willing to work with. Don’t worry. We’ll find that woman who tried to kill me, deal with her, and then tech can make up the staffing shortfall. I know you’re used to a Chapter with dozens of staff but, let’s face it, your old boss wasn’t exactly moving with the times, was he?”

“I’m not worried,” Max said as the car pulled into the drive. “I also disagree with your appraisal of what it takes to run a Chapter and police Wessex effectively, let alone the entirety of Albion.”

Rupert either didn’t hear him or was choosing to ignore him. He got out of the car, shrugged his coat on, and strode up to the house as Max struggled to get out. By the time he’d limped over, Rupert had pulled up the hood of his hoodie and buttoned his coat. “I’m freezing my nuts off here. No reply—she must be in the Nether.” He chewed his lower lip. “I want to stay in Mundanus for now. Just in case.”

Max pulled the knuckle-duster from his pocket, put it on, and knocked three times. He had time to slip it off and drop it back into his pocket before the door opened.

Petra was dressed in black and her normally perfectly styled blonde hair was tied back in a lopsided ponytail with strands hanging around her face. Her eyes were red and puffy and her makeup was streaked. “Oh, Max. It’s you.”

“And me,” Rupert said, stepping into sight.

“Oh.” She looked disappointed. “I knew you’d come for them in the end.”

“Look, it’s bloody freezing out here.”

“Come in,” she said reluctantly, and shut the door after them. The house wasn’t much warmer. “Sorry I didn’t hear the door. I was in the Nether library.”

“Have you got the books I want ready?”

Petra wrapped her arms about herself. Max noticed that she was wearing the same suit as the last time he saw her, over a week ago. There were ladders in her hosiery and food stains on her blouse. “I’ve put them to one side but you can’t take them out of the library.”

Rupert pulled his hood down. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, we went through this on the phone. I’m not coming here every time I want to look something up. They’re not safe here. She knows where this place is.”

“You’re not safe here either,” Max said. “Why not close the house down and come and work with us?”

Petra looked utterly horrified. “I can’t leave the house! Who will take care of it now Axon’s gone?”

Max looked at the dust collecting on the hallway table, smelt the mustiness in the air. “I’m not sure you can take care of the anchor property and the Nether property too, not by yourself.”

“I’ve been focused on the library,” she said, looking away. “That evil woman took some of his books.” She looked at Rupert. “You are going to get those back, aren’t you? And she stole some other things too.”

“Eventually. If you give me those books, I’ll be able to find her more quickly.”

Petra rubbed her left eye, frowning at him. “Come to the library, then.”

“No, it’s in the Nether.”

She started to chew a thumbnail. “I shouldn’t let you,” she muttered. “He wouldn’t like it.”

“Ekstrand’s dead!” Rupert said. “He is literally incapable of giving a shit about who goes in his library, or anywhere else in this house!”

“I’m the only one left who cares and I know he wouldn’t like it!” she shouted back at him. “You don’t deserve those books! Get out!”

“I need them,” Rupert said, stepping towards her. “They used to be mine! Ekstrand stole them from me! That’s the only reason I know about them!”

Petra grabbed an umbrella from the nearby stand and held it in front of her like a sword. “I told you to get out!”

“Petra,” Max said, hobbling round to stand between her and Rupert. “We need the books and we need you. You’re wasted here. Mr Ekstrand tasked me with protecting this city from the parasites and it’s hard. If you helped us, it would be easier to protect the innocents and easier for Rupert to find the one who killed Mr Ekstrand before she kills again. Do you understand?”

The umbrella wavered, as if she barely had the strength to keep it held up. “I need to make sure the library—”

“Oh, for the sake of fuck!” Rupert made her jump. “Look, if you won’t let me take the books, I’ll have to go through this place top to bottom and pull out every damn diary, notebook, scrap of paper and see if—”

“No!” Petra’s horror made the umbrella waver even more.

Rupert peered through the doorway to the living room. “All sorts of interesting shit in there. Yeah, scrap the books, I’ll just take the whole fucking house and throw you out. That solves the problem just as well.”

Petra let the umbrella fall to the floor. “I’ll get them, if it means you’ll go.”

“I won’t stay a minute longer than I have to, trust me.”

“Make sure he doesn’t touch anything,” she said to Max, and then left, glancing over her shoulder a couple of times to make sure Rupert was staying put. When he took a step towards the living room she hurried off, making him chuckle.

Max looked at Rupert, standing with his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Was what you said about the books true? Were they yours?”