As Petion and the intelligence captain strolled through the Old Town they were barely aware of the stocky shadow that followed them. Kai was a good policeman, and a good tail even in the twisted labyrinth of dark passageways. Petion had lost his direction completely by the time Langrup turned into a black entranceway. It was a side entrance to a tap room. A noisy, badly lit place, filled with the stink of the burning weed the Andriadans smoked and the sweet pungency of beer slops. Langrup ordered two mugs of the best and Petion took careful note of the man who banged them down on the bar. His skin was sallow and wrinkled; the way it hung on the thin Andriadan bones it made him look like a walking skeleton. An accident or deformity had left him with only the index finger of his left hand. It appeared to be quite strong and he used it skillfully.
"We have some samples to show you," Captain Langrup said. "Shall we take them inside?"
One-finger only grunted, his eyes half-closed and flicking back and forth at both of them. "Are the prices right?" he asked finally, the single finger scratching towards them across the bar, an animal nosing about for money.
"Don't worry," Langrup said and pulled back the corner of his cloak so the full wallet could be seen hanging from his belt. One-finger grunted again and turned away.
"A repulsive type, but valuable," Langrup said. "Finish the beer then follow me." They left by the main entrance, but instead of going all the way out into the street they climbed quietly up the stairs in the entranceway. There was a small room in the back of the building and they only waited a few minutes before the informer came in.
"Information costs money," he said, and the finger scratched towards them again from across the table.
Langrup clinked ten of the translucent glass coins on the table. "Tell us about Prince Mello," he said. "Did he ever come here to the city?"
"Many times. In his car. On the way to the palace or the country. ."
"Don't be devious!" Langrup snapped. "We're paying for facts. Did he ever come here2. Did he go anywhere else in the city? Did he have any friends here he visited… or girls?"
One-finger laughed, a crackling unpleasant sound. "A girl! What girl could stand being near a Sinnd-smeller! He came here once and I had to fumigate the place afterwards. He told me that my place stank! He came here, went some other places, he never came back. There were no friends of his here" — his eyes half-closed again—"or enemies."
"What's this about being a 'Sinnd-smeller'?" Petion asked the Captain.
Langrup answered him, ignoring the informer's presence as though he were part of the furniture.
"It's a local idea, I'm not sure if it is true or just a way to insult us. They say that all offworlders smell like Sinnd — that's a local carnivore. Say they can't stand to be near us too long. One-finger over there probably has plugs in his nose right now."
"Is this true?" Petion asked him. One-finger didn't answer but grinned and tilted his head back instead, while the long finger leapt up and tapped at the white base of a plug barely seen in one nostril.
"Interesting," Petion mused.
"Damned insult," Langrup snapped. "You're going to have to tell us more than that if you want your money.” he said to the informer. "When I investigated a year ago you had no idea of who had killed Prince Mello. What do you know now? You've had plenty of time to hear rumors, find out things."
One-finger was suffering. He writhed inside his skin and sweat stood out on his face. The questing finger ran out towards the money on the table, then retreated.
"You can get in bad trouble for withholding information," Langrup said with angry intensity. "Arrest, jail. . even transportation…" One-finger didn't even hear the threats, he was frightened enough already.
"Try money," Petion suggested. "I'll supply whatever funds are needed."
Langrup slowly stacked high-denomination coins on the table, and as the pile mounted One-finger began to shiver, pulling away. But his eyes never left the money.
"Here," Langrup murmured, sliding the money slowly across the table, "look at this. There's more here than you can make in a year of hard work. It's yours. Just tell us…"
"I don't know who did it!" One-finger shouted hoarsely, falling forward across the coins, clutching them with his arms. "I can't tell you that. But I can tell you something…" He gasped for breath and squeezed the words out. "It was no one. . from the city."
"That's not enough!" Langrup shouted, standing and shaking the man so that the tempered glass coins sprayed down and rattled in all directions. One-finger's face was wide-eyed with fear, but he said no more.
"Leave him.” Petion said quietly. "You're not going to get any more out of him. And he's told us what we want to know." Not satisfied, Langrup slowly let go of the man who dropped back into his chair as limply as if the bones had been dissolved from his body. They left him there and made their way back down the stairs.
"That's an awful lot to pay for so little.” Langrup said, not trying to disguise his dissatisfaction.
"It's enough," Petion told him. "It is really more than I expected to find out here. I would appreciate it if you would go back now and tell the Commander that I would like to meet with both of you, in his office, in about two hours time."
"But I can't leave you alone here," Captain Langrup said, shocked.
"I'm not alone as you see," Petion told him. He had thumbed a message on his ring as soon as they had left the building, so he expected the squat figure that sidled up to them out of the darkness. Langrup gave a start. "I assure you that Kai and I will be able to take care of ourselves," Petion said.
"Can you find the square where the murder took place?" Petion asked after the Intelligence officer had gone.
"With my eyes shut," Kai scored, and led the way into an alley. "What did you find out?"
"A little — or a lot. I don't know yet. The whole thing is still simmering in my head. There is just one more thing I would like to find out before reaching any conclusions." They entered a square and he looked around. "This is it, isn't it?"
"Crossroad of the Carved-up Corpse," Kai agreed.
Petion looked around at the black doorways. He pointed. "There's the one we saw open earlier. I don't like to rely on coincidences, but they do occur. It also happens to be the one nearest the palace and we should look there first. Now's your chance to lean on it — but quietly."
There was just enough light in the square to catch the white shine of Kai's grin. Climbing silently up to the door, he put one shoulder against it and his bar-like fingers clamped onto the carved stone jamb. A single contraction of his muscles pulled his weight forward a few centimeters. It was enough, a motion as sudden and powerful as a hydraulic ram. Something snapped sharply and the door swung open. They moved in quickly and closed it behind them. The building was silent.
"We're looking for a door," Petion said. "It may be in the wall or it may be in the floor. It will be concealed. I'll work this side and you Work the other."
Their lights threw wandering circles of radiance as they searched. Only a few minutes passed before Kai called softly. "Nothing to it. A real amateur job." His light outlined a flag in the stone floor. The gap between it and the other stones was narrow and deep, clear of dust.
It took even less time to find out how it opened. When the stone slid aside they shone their lights into the black opening. A tunnel vanished into the darkness.
"If I were to ask you to make a guess — where would you think that tunnel goes?" Petion asked.
Kai bent down and squinted along the length of the tunnel as far as his light could carry. "If it turns it could go anywhere. But if it goes on the way it starts it should end up bang in the center of the royal palace."