Heart of Gold

'No,' von Stralick replied. 'It's rather more urgent than that. I have information about your Soul Stealer, and I wish to share it.'

So the expedition to the chemical supplier did turn up something useful. 'In your world, von Stralick, sharing comes at a cost,' Aubrey said. 'What is it you want in return?'

'I want you to come with me. I think we can capture this madman, but I need your magic to do so.'

'Why don't you call on a Holmland magician for assistance? Surely your country has a number hidden away here in Lutetia, ready to help their spies?'

Von Stralick grimaced. 'You need an explanation for everything, don't you, Fitzwilliam?'

'Oh yes,' Caroline said. 'Aubrey without an explanation is like a dog without a bone.'

Aubrey nodded. 'You're operating under difficulty here, von Stralick, aren't you? You're under-resourced.'

Aubrey could have sworn that the Holmlander actually squirmed. 'There is much I cannot tell you.'

'Granted.'

'But I must tell you something.'

'Are you arguing with us or with yourself?'

Von Stralick glanced at the building opposite. 'Not here. And we have no time to spare. We must hurry.'

VON STRALICK LED THEM THROUGH STREETS WHERE THE city was beginning to wake and stretch. With the morning light, Lutetia was less sinister, more like its old self, but Aubrey saw the dispirited way that waiters set tables outside bistros. Window cleaners smeared glass and shrugged, moving on with long faces. Two police officers stood on a street corner, arguing. Even the dogs being taken for early morning walks were affected, whining and moping, reluctant to cross roads or romp in the parks.

Lutetia, the City of Troubles, Aubrey thought.

Von Stralick marched at a pace that made them weave between pedestrians on pavements that were growing more and more busy. Aubrey walked beside him, Caroline and George behind.

'Factions, Fitzwilliam,' von Stralick said as he skirted a market boy with a basket of artichokes and onions. 'I am much chagrined to tell you that the Holmland intelligence agencies are plagued by factions.'

'Go on.'

Aubrey watched as von Stralick weighed his words carefully. 'I am not the only operative at work here.'

'Holmland would be foolish to have only one agent in Lutetia.'

'True, much the same as Albion has multiple agents here.'

Aubrey kept his face impassive, but it was something he hadn't considered for some time. The Magisterium and the Special Service must have agents on the ground, but no-one had contacted him. Why not?

'A network. You have a network.'

'Yes.' He glanced at Aubrey. 'We have low level agents for surveillance and communication, and speciality agents for . . . other matters.'

Magicians, Aubrey thought, filling in the gap. Blackmailers. Assassins and saboteurs?

'For good security reasons,' von Stralick continued, 'I don't know the details. Names, numbers and so on.'

That was something Aubrey wasn't willing to accept immediately. 'Of course. What you don't know can't be prised out of you.'

'That is the theory my masters subscribe to.' Von Stralick scowled. 'And that is the root of my problem. Masters. In Holmland, our intelligence agencies attract a particular sort of person.'

'I understand. It's the same in Albion. In agencies where suspicion is the business, the most suspicious tend to rise to the top.' It was quite a challenge, keeping a conversation going while not saying anything significant. Aubrey thought he was doing well, but it was like tightrope-walking over the Pit of Doom. One false step . . .

'Just so. In Holmland, it has resulted in factions within our agencies. It is not helped by the fact that our government is also riven by factions.'

That was something Aubrey was unaware of. He mentally underlined it. 'Are you saying that you're not sure about your superior?'

'I receive orders from a number of people. Sometimes they conflict. Thus far, I have been able to play them off against each other, maintaining my reputation by getting important jobs done. But now I am finding this more difficult. The appearance of Muller and Schnagel surprised me and has emphasised that different factions have different agendas.' Von Stralick stopped. 'Follow me.'

He took them through the foyer of a shabby office building. He ignored the lift and instead led them to the stairs at the rear.

On the first-floor landing he paused, scanning the corridor in both directions before beckoning them on. He used a key to open the last door on the right, at the front of the building overlooking the street. He entered first and quickly ushered them inside.

It was a single room. Tattered wallpaper was the only feature apart from a wooden chair near the window and a telephone on the floor next to it. A thin young man with blond hair was sitting in the chair with a pair of binoculars in his hands. He stared at them, mouth open.

Von Stralick strode over and took him to the far corner of the room. They muttered together for a few minutes in Holmlandish, then the young man pushed past Aubrey and the others, out of the door, his head down, face averted.

Von Stralick was troubled.

'Observation post?' Caroline asked him.

He bowed again. 'You are perspicacious as well as beautiful.'

She rolled her eyes. 'And what is there to see around here?'

'Opposite is the photographic studio of one Monsieur Farentino. We have reason to believe he is the photographer who has stumbled on magical methods to steal people's souls.'

'Farentino?' George said. 'Not Gallian, then?'

'Farentino is what he calls himself at the moment. We have managed to trace his movements back for the last ten years or so, and he has resided in a number of countries, even spending some time in the Orient.'

The windows of the studio opposite were covered by wooden slat blinds except for one bare window, which opened onto the corridor outside the studio. 'Is he in there?'

'He met a businessman half an hour ago – a banker or accountant, from the description. No-one has come or gone since then.'

Aubrey felt a chill when he thought of the businessman's probable fate. A simple portrait sitting, it would begin as, but the horror that was waiting . . .

'We have him then.'

'We must hurry,' von Stralick said. 'Muller and Schnagel are on their way.'

'They are?' Caroline said. 'Your awareness of developments in Lutetia has certainly become more comprehensive.'

'Recent events took me unawares,' von Stralick said. 'I do not like being in such a way, so I have endeavoured to find out more.'

'By way of the Holmland agents in Lutetia,' Caroline said.

'Perhaps.' Von Stralick studied her for a moment. 'You are showing sudden interest in the workings of intelligence gathering.'