“So it makes a really, really loud bang,” said Claudia.
“That,” said Giovanni, “or it might actually explode. It’s hard to test things like this. So I’m not sure yet.”
<I am,> said Clef. <And it won’t.>
“I’ll take as many of those as I can buy,” she said.
Giovanni took out three more of the black balls and popped them in a sack for her. “Sancia…you ought to know that Sark’s apartments likely aren’t safe, either.”
“I know that,” she said. “That’s why I’m here!”
“No, listen,” said Claudia. “Some big thug walked into the Perch and Lark just a handful of hours ago and beat every single one of Antonin di Nove’s men half to death — as well as Antonin himself — all while asking for information about the waterfront job.”
Sancia stared at her. “One guy? One guy fought all of Antonin’s crew, single-handedly, and won?”
“Yes,” said Claudia. “I’ve no doubt Antonin told him everything he knew about Sark — which was probably a lot. Seems you’ve called all kinds of devils out of the dark with your antics.”
“And now you, Sancia Grado,” said Giovanni, tying up the sack, “at all of five foot no inches, and a hundred and nothing pounds, are going to take them all on.” He held it out to her, grinning. “Good luck.”
9
Gregor Dandolo stood below the Selvo Building and looked up. It was large, dark, and crumbling — in other words, it looked much like the sort of place where a thief’s fence would reside. Each room had a short balcony, though few looked sturdy.
He glanced back at the plume of dust rising from Foundryside. Something bad had happened back there — likely a building had collapsed, if not several. Every instinct of his told him to run to the site and help, but he realized that his previous actions tonight made that unwise. There was now an entire criminal organization that wanted him dead, and this Sark would surely soon catch word that Gregor was looking for him, and go to ground.
The one night I have business in the Commons, he thought to himself, is, of course, the one night the entire place falls apart.
He checked to make sure Whip was working. His weapon seemed to be all in order — he had no idea what that odd bit of business had been about back there. Grimacing, he walked inside the Selvo and found a few residents anxiously wandering the halls, wondering what the crash was.
Sark’s door was easy to find — it was the one with eight locks on it. He listened for a bit but heard nothing inside. He walked down the rooms on Sark’s side of the building and quietly tried all the doorknobs. One was open on the very far end. The room within was empty — for sale or abandoned, he supposed.
Gregor stumbled through the dark room. He fumbled with the door on the far end and walked out onto the balcony that dangled on the side of the building. Then he looked down the face of the building at all the balconies, all lined up close together.
An idea occurred to him. I must try my hardest, he thought, straddling the baluster, not to look down.
With slow, careful movements, Gregor Dandolo vaulted from balcony to balcony toward Sark’s rooms. There wasn’t much of a gap between the balconies, only about three feet or so, so his primary concern was that the balconies might not be able to support his weight. But despite a few creaks and cracks, they held.
Finally he came to Sark’s rooms. The door leading in was locked, but this lock was far weaker than the ones in the front door. He wedged the bottom of Whip’s handle into the crack and tugged at it. The lock popped free easily.
He was about to go in when he paused…He thought for just one moment, just a split second, that he’d seen someone on the rooftop across the alley. But now that he looked there didn’t seem to be anyone. He grunted and slipped inside.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Gregor took out a match, struck it, and lit a candle.
Now. What’s to find here?
What he found made his heart sink: this Sark had at least ten safes, all of them lined up along the walls, all of them locked and, to Gregor, impenetrable.
He sighed. If there is evidence in there, he thought, I can’t get to it. So I must find any evidence outside of the safes, then.
He searched the rooms. The space looked like something adapted for an invalid: lots of canes, lots of handles, lots of low seats. He also found Sark had little in the way of crockery and cutlery and pans. He apparently did not make his own food much at all, which was not terribly unusual. Few Commoners could afford all the materials that went into the preparation of food.
Gregor was about to move past the cooking stove and into the living room when he paused.
“If he doesn’t have plates or spoons,” he said aloud, looking down, “and if he doesn’t eat at home…then why does he have a stove?”
Certainly not for heat — Tevanne had no shortage of that: the city’s two seasons were hot and wet, or unbelievably hot and unbelievably wet.
Gregor squatted before the stove. There was no wood ash inside — which was odd.
Grunting, Gregor reached down and felt the back of the stove, until he found a small switch.
He turned it, and the back of the stove popped open. “Oho,” said Gregor. Inside were four small shelves, and on those shelves were many precious items.
He looked at the safes around him. These are just a distraction, aren’t they? Make any interlopers focus on them, while the real safe sits hidden right in front of you…He suddenly thought this Sark a very clever man.
There was a small bag on the top shelf, and he opened it and carefully looked through it. “My goodness,” he murmured.
Inside were four thousand duvots — paper duvots, no less — and multiple documents, almost certainly forged, that would allow the holder to secure quick passage on any number of ships. One of them even granted the bearer the powers of a minor ambassador from Dandolo Chartered — and even though Gregor had little to do with his family’s house, he couldn’t help but feel insulted by that.
He looked through the rest of the bag, and found a knife, lockpicks, and other unseemly tools. He’s definitely the fence, he thought. And the man was ready to run in a heartbeat.
He searched the rest of the hidden safe. It contained small sacks of gemstones, jewelry, and the like. On the bottom shelf was a small book. Gregor grabbed it and flipped through it, and found it was full of dates, plans, and tactics for Sark’s many jobs.
At first the notes were extremely detailed — methods of entry and escape, tools required for breaking a specific lock or safe — but at one point, about two years ago, the jobs suddenly got a lot more frequent and the payouts a lot higher, but the notes became far sparser. Gregor got the impression that Sark had made a connection with someone good enough that they didn’t need much of his help.
He flipped to the last entry and found Sark’s notes on the waterfront job. He felt a bit pleased to see that his defenses had frustrated this Sark immensely — one scribbled line read: This bastard Dandolo is going to make S work double-time!!
Gregor made a note of that—“S.” He doubted it stood for “Sark.”