“It’s not illegal to ship things into Elendel,” he said. “This group was breaking the law by smuggling things out.”
“Which is why this is so intriguing,” she said. “The shipping list is all very mundane, too. Foodstuffs, lumber … but they’ve noted which ones were inspected, which package sizes were suspicious, all of that.”
“I find this … vaguely unnerving,” he said. “I don’t have any idea what it means, and that’s even worse.”
“I’m going to dig into it,” Marasi promised. “For now, I’ll get some of these other pages copied by the scribes. They’ll give you hard evidence that the explosives and weapons we found today were going to be smuggled to Bilming. That shipment was leaving the city, as have many others.” She hesitated. “I’ve had an idea.”
“Go on…”
“I’ll need authorization to work outside the city for a while … and if possible, we need to keep this news from the press for a few days. That means quieting the other constables. I know it will be hard, but it will help me chase down the people these men were going to supply.”
“What are you planning?”
“According to this book, someone in Bilming is expecting a shipment soon. Weapons, explosives, and … food.”
“That matches what we found in the cavern,” Reddi said, looking at the initial reports. “Lots of food.”
That was curious. Why would they be smuggling dried foods to the Outer Cities? Were these soldier or sailor rations?
“Regardless,” Marasi said, “the Set tends to run silent in times like this. I didn’t see any radio equipment down there — they were deep enough that a signal couldn’t get out anyway. So our enemies probably don’t know their team has fallen. Which means…”
“… We could send in the shipment,” Reddi said. “And perhaps capture the people who are behind all of this.”
“Or at least move one step farther up the chain.”
“They’d be expecting to meet with one of their own,” Reddi said, rubbing his chin. “We couldn’t maintain the subterfuge for long.”
“Well, sir,” Marasi said, “we do have the Cycle’s corpse.”
“There are a lot of people who don’t believe in this shadowy organization you’re chasing, Colms,” he said. “You know that, right?”
“What do you believe, sir?”
“All those people we interviewed six years ago were certainly up to something,” he said. “I’m still not a hundred percent sure it wasn’t merely an Outer Cities plot — and the idea of some kind of evil god doesn’t sit well with me. But honestly, I’ve learned not to bet against you.”
“You do have to admit,” Marasi said, “at the very least, that Waxillium’s uncle was involved in some kind of paramilitary group.”
“Yes,” Reddi said, “and someone assassinated him in prison — along with the others who followed him. If you say that was the Set, I believe you. But I need you to be aware — the governor and his people want our official focus to be on the Outer Cities and the threat they present to Elendel supremacy, not on some secret society that might be pulling their strings.”
“Understood, sir,” she said. “But I think this could accomplish both goals. Most of the people we caught were common street thugs — not actual Set members. I’ll bet the only one down there who had any real contact with the Set was the man who had this book. It mandates radio silence from inside the city, to not be overheard, in the days leading up to a drop-off — so no one in Bilming is expecting to hear from him. I believe we can surprise them. Particularly since we have that corpse.”
“Wait,” Reddi said, “how does a corpse help us?”
“I figured I’d ask Harmony to lend us a kandra to imitate the dead man for the operation. Wayne could be a generic lackey, speaking with a Bilming accent, to help shore up the subterfuge.”
“Oh. Um. Right.” Reddi got uncomfortable when she implied she was close with Harmony — and doing so was a little cheeky on her part, since she’d never met him herself. She knew Death far better than she knew God.
Regardless, Reddi didn’t like being involved with the kandra — Faceless Immortals had made him uncomfortable ever since the business with Bleeder. He’d probably prefer she did her thing and didn’t mention how. But, well, she wanted everything to be on the up-and-up.
The department deserved to know how she got her results — she didn’t accomplish them without things like Malwish tech on loan from Allik, or access to Faceless Immortals. She’d originally hoped that by making all this clear, her reputation would drop to more reasonable levels. She’d been wrong. Still, that had its advantages.
“My reform suggestions?” Marasi asked. “About how we police slums, and the proper training of constables? How is that going?”
“The other constables-general have agreed to the articles,” he said. “All but Jamms, but I think after today he’ll listen. Just need to get the governor to sign off on the ideas.” He narrowed his eyes. “I like this shipment plan of yours. Get me a detailed proposal.”
“Will do, sir. We’ll need to move quickly.”
“You will have the full support of the department,” Reddi said. “The governor is going to be so pleased with today’s results that I can all but guarantee you extra funding if your operation requires it. I’ll wait for that proposal, but in the meantime I’ll have some people get to work on replacing the supplies that were destroyed today.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, taking a deep, satisfied breath.
“Something wrong, constable?” he asked.
“No, sir,” she said. “Just … appreciating the path I’ve walked, and where it’s led me.”
“Appreciate it on your own time, constable!”
She eyed him, and he returned a rare grin.
“It’s the sort of thing I’m supposed to say,” he explained. “The governor likes it when I’m gruff. Fits his expectations better, I suppose. Oh, before I forget. Constable Matieu says you had something specific you wanted to show me? Something that’s not in the reports. Was that the book?”
“That and a little more, sir,” she said, taking the spikes from her shoulder bag. “I want you to turn these three in to the scientists at the university.” She held up the thinner fourth one. “I’m going to keep this one for a bit though.”
“Ruin…” Reddi whispered. “Is that … atium?”
“No, though it’s nearly as mythical. We think it’s trellium, a metal from offworld.”
He eyed her. Talk of other worlds didn’t sit right with him either, and she suspected he’d never fully accepted what she said about Trell.
“Isn’t that the stuff they used to blow up the prison?” Reddi asked.
“I don’t know if I believe that story,” Marasi said. “There’s no proof Wax’s uncle had any of this on him.”
“Still,” Reddi said, “be careful with that. If it’s half as bad as ettmetal…”
“I’ll be careful,” she said. “I plan to deliver it to Lord Ladrian for study.”
Reddi grunted. “I thought he was retired.”
“Depends,” Marasi said, tucking the trellium spike back into her shoulder bag. “For this, you should consider him on the case.”
“Well, I never revoked his constable privileges.” Reddi wiped his brow with his handkerchief. “Just try to keep him from … causing any incidents. When he’s involved, things tend to get … unsettling.”
“I’ll do what I can, sir.”
“He doesn’t have any other hidden apocalyptic family members or half-sane wives with mystical powers, does he?”
“If any show up, I’ll have him file a report. And maybe move confrontations with them to next quarter, for budgetary reasons.”