"This is a lot of stuff." And all small. Each item had a guessed value noted. Stuff like gold medals, old jewelry belonging to Stantnor women long dead, silver serviceware disdained by rough, tough ex-Marines, decorative weapons.
"If you want, I can go through the house room by room and get a better count. Trouble is, it's hard to tell what's gone because there isn't anybody who knows what all belongs."
"Don't seem worth the trouble. Unless you could find out about something that could be traced." Little on the list fit that description. The thief had shown restraint.
Even so, he'd gotten enough so the bottom line made my eyes bug. "Twenty-two thousand marks?"
"Based on my best guess at the intrinsic value of metal and gems. I assume there'd be a big knockdown at a fence."
"There would be, partly offset by artistic value. A lot of this don't look like the junk that gets melted down."
"Maybe."
"Are we committed to finding the thief?" I was, that being the commission I'd accepted from the General. I was fishing for Black Pete's feelings.
"Yes. The old man may not have long. I don't want him going off burdened by knowing somebody got away with betraying him."
"Right. Then what I'll do is subcontract a search for the fence. Sometimes it helps to come back at a thief from the other end. Work me up a description of four or five outstanding items and I'll have somebody try to find them."
"You'll have to pay for that?"
"Yes. You going to squeeze the General's coppers?"
He smiled. "I shouldn't. But I'm not used to not having to watch every one. Anything you need?"
"I need to know more about the people here." I looked at my list. "Counting three guys I haven't met and not counting my ghost lady, I come up with eleven names. Cook tells me eighteen. Where're the the other seven?"
"I told you she has some loose threads. She's been here since they built the first place—literally—and she never quite knows what year it is. When we first came here from the Cantard there were eighteen people, counting her and Jennifer. More before the old man finished dismissing the old staff. Now eleven is right."
"Where did the others go?"
"Sam and Tark just up and died on us. Wollack got on the wrong end of a bull when we were breeding cows and got himself gored and trampled. The others just drifted away. They got fed up, I guess, hung around less and less, then just didn't come back."
I leaned forward, got a fresh sheet of paper, divided five million by two and gave two and a half mil to Jennifer, then divided two and a half by sixteen and came up with a hundred fifty-six thousand marks and change.
Not bad. And I never knew anybody who would walk on a hundred fifty thousand, gold or silver.
I did some more math. Nine into two and a half million came out two hundred seventy-seven thousand and change. Damned near double your money.
Was there something else going on here?
I didn't mention it. It was something to keep in mind, though.
"You onto something?" Peters asked.
"I doubt it."
Time for some footwork. "Having a little trouble making sense of things. There any way we can find out where those four men are now? Also, I'm going to need to know more about the General's bequeathal arrangements."
He frowned. "Why?"
"It's a large estate. You said he used his bequests as a hammer. Maybe he ran those guys off. Maybe one of them might be trying to get even, either by doing the stealing or slipping him poison."
"You've got me there." He looked it.
"Two things, then. A copy of the will. And find out if there was a clash between the General and any of those four."
"You don't really think they'd be sneaking back?"
I didn't, no. I thought they were dead. With my confidence in human decency aroused, I was sure somebody was playing a game of last one left—and doing such a damned good job, nobody else was suspicious. But... If somebody was, then that somebody was innocent of trying to murder the old man. That somebody would want to keep the General healthy while the field was narrowed. That somebody might even bring in an outside specialist... presuming he had a genuine cause for concern.
"Anyone have a spare key or master key for my room?"
That caught him from the blind side. "Dellwood. Why?"
"Somebody picked the lock and got in between the time I left for supper and the time I came back here."
"Why would... ?"
"Hey. That's a petty one compared to why would somebody want to kill the General. If that somebody exists he might be real nervous about me. What did you all do when you split up after supper?" I was going to play logical puzzle. Eliminate me and Cook because I didn't do it and she was with me. Take Dellwood off the hook because he didn't need to pick locks. Peters because he knew about me already. Eliminate anybody who was with them the whole time...
"Dellwood would have gone to get the General up and ready for dinner. I assume Jennifer went with him. She usually does. She stays till Cook brings his food and helps him eat if he can't manage himself. I was in my quarters writing up the list from notes."
"Uhm." I thought a minute. "I do have one problem with this, Sarge. And that's a reason for being here. I need to ask questions. I need to find loose strings I can pull on. Kind of hard to do that when I don't have a good excuse. Cook's already told me I'm too nosy."
"I suppose. I had hopes but I didn't really think you could manage without giving yourself away."
"How many people know about the missing trinkets? As opposed to how many know you think somebody's trying to kill the General? Why not tell the truth? Say the old man hired me to find out who's stealing from him. They might even find it amusing if they think he's imagining it. And the would-be assassin should relax. The others might open up after I convince them somebody is stealing from the old man. Right?"
"I suppose." He didn't like it, though.
"Figure out a way to let it get out. So everybody knows but it seems like I don't know they know. Maybe joke about the General having another fantasy."
"All right. Anything else?"
"No. I'm going to turn in. I'm going to roll out early and make a run into the city to put somebody on the track of the stolen goodies."
"Is that a hint?"
It was. "I didn't think of it that way. But I guess it is."
"I'll see you in the morning, then." He went out.
I locked the door behind him, returned to the writing table.
Seemed to me there might be three puzzles here: who was stealing from the General, who was trying to kill him, and who was eliminating his heirs. It seemed reasonable to suppose that each thing—if any were fact—would be going on independent of the others, since the thefts were petty compared to murder and killing the General wouldn't be in the interest of whoever was trying to enlarge his share of the estate.
I could be up to my neck in villains.
I did hit the sack right away. I doubt Peters believed I would, because he knew the hours I keep. But I did need sleep and I had plans for the wee hours of the morning.
9
At home I usually control my internal clock. Go to sleep when I want, wake up when I want, give or take ten minutes. I didn't leave the clock behind. I woke right on time.
And was aware of a presence before I opened my eyes. I don't know how. Some sound so soft I didn't catch it consciously. Some subtle scent. Maybe just a sixth sense. Whatever, I knew somebody was there.
I was on my left side, facing the wall opposite the door, sunk so deep in eiderdown, I couldn't move fast if you branded me. I tried sneaky, faking a slow rollover in my sleep.
I didn't fool, anybody. All I saw was the tail end of the blonde sliding out the bedroom door. "Hey! Hang on. I want to talk to you." She bolted.