Gerard gently eased her toward the door. "I'll get right on it, Lady Drebble. You have my word. As if the very welfare of Solace was at stake." As soon as I get enough sleep, he amended to himself.
Lady Drebble allowed herself to be nudged toward the door, although at the threshold she turned, as if needing to assert that any exit she made was of her own volition. "Very well, then, Sheriff, I leave the matter in your capable hands. But be advised, I'll be watching you." She wagged a plump finger under his nose. "Yes, Sheriff, I will be watching you very carefully indeed!" With that, she wrapped her frayed robe tighter around her and left in a swirl of tattered elegance.
Gerard let out a deep breath of relief, pulled off his doublet and hose, and fell back into bed. With a satisfied groan, he found a comfortable position. Hardly had he fallen asleep again, however, than another knock sounded on his door, this one more tentative than Lady Drebble's.
"What?" he demanded.
"Sheriff?" came a man's hesitant voice from the corridor. It sounded as though the man had his lips pressed to the wood of the door and was whispering. "Might I have a word with you? I'm sorry to disturb you, but it's… it's… a delicate matter of the utmost urgency."
Gerard's shoulders sagged. But he got up, put on his doublet and hose again, and opened the door. Outside stood Bartholomew Tucker. His hands fidgeted at his sides, then he tried interlacing his fingers in front of him, and finally he clasped his hands behind his back. He glanced about the corridor warily, as if afraid of being recognized, although Gerard's attic was the only door the narrow corridor led to. "Might I come in?" Tucker asked, leaning close and keeping his voice down. "I believe an element of delicacy is called for in this matter."
Gerard stepped aside and let the man into his room. As soon as Gerard closed the door, Tucker adopted an affected, blustering manner. "Sheriff, I must confess to a certain degree of embarrassment at being seen down at that… that lowlife establishment the other night."
"The Trough," Gerard said.
"Yes, ahem." Tucker forced an awkward laugh. "That place. Well, it wouldn't do for a man in my position to be thought a frequenter of such a place. I hardly ever go there, you know, it was just an unfortunate coincidence I was there." He tried to laugh again, but it came out as a choking sound. "Anyway, Sheriff, I thought perhaps we could come to some sort of arrangement with regard to the other night." He gave a broad wink, no doubt intended to be conspiratorial.
"An arrangement?" Gerard said.
"Yes, you know, in return for certain funds changing hands…" Tucker fished out a purse and began rummaging through it. "I'm not sure how much would be appropriate, having little experience in such matters, but I'm certain we could come to some kind of understanding."
"Master Tucker, are you trying to bribe me?"
Tucker's laugh this time was high-pitched and brittle. "A bribe? Why, no. Whatever made you call it that?" His hands came forward to trace vague, anxious designs in the air. "No, I'm only offering a certain inducement, as it were, as a means of showing my gratitude for any service you might see fit to render me…" He wound to a stop, like some kind of fantastical gnome device running out of steam. His hands fluttered uselessly in the air before dropping to his sides.
"Master Tucker, I think you should leave now," Gerard said as seriously as he could manage.
"But what of the other night?" Tucker asked, the wind having emptied out of him like a punctured air bladder.
"I assure you, I have no interest in revealing your indiscretions to anyone," Gerard answered. "I am a guardian of public morals and do not care a whit about your private behavior."
"Thank you!" Tucker swelled up again, trying to regain some of his earlier dignity. "Oh, thank you, sir!"
"Think nothing of it," Gerard said, showing him the door.
He closed the door firmly behind Tucker's receding back and returned to bed. A few minutes later, just as he drifted off to sleep, someone else knocked on the door.
"What!" Gerard demanded.
"Gerard, is that you?" It was Palin's voice. "You sound upset about something."
Grumbling, Gerard got out of bed and donned his clothes once again. He opened the door, letting his head hang wearily. "Hello, Palin."
"Good morning! May I come in?"
With a feeling of deja vu all over again, Gerard opened the door and let his latest guest enter.
"Is something wrong?" Palin asked. "You look terrible."
"This is the way I always look when I don't get enough sleep."
Palin's face looked quizzical "What? Aren't you getting enough sleep lately?"
"Never mind." Gerard sank down onto the bed, indicating the chair for Palin. "What can I do for you?"
"A delegation from the town council has raised concerns about the lack of success on the criminal investigations. They're demanding some kind of progress report, what with the town fair today and the temple dedication tomorrow. I think they just need a little reassurance."
Gerard nodded. "Fine. I'll be glad to reassure them."
"Good. They're down at the jail now, waiting for you." Palin rose.
Gerard didn't move. "Now?" he repeated.
Palin nodded, already halfway to the door.
"Couldn't this wait until later?" Gerard pleaded.
"Gerard, I'm sorry. The matter simply needs a little diplomacy."
Gerard thought about saying he was deathly ill and wouldn't be able to meet with the councilors for at least another hour. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet. "All right, let's go."
Palin clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit!"
Outside, people were already streaming toward the grounds for the fair, set up on the outskirts of town. Most everyone was dressed in finery, although a few sported costumes-owlbears and hell beasts and the like. Gerard spotted an exceptional minotaur mask, then realized it really was a minotaur, which was a bit unnerving. He and Palin worked their way against the flow of carriage and foot traffic, for the jail lay in the opposite direction. Gerard couldn't help glancing at the many strangers, wondering about the numerous pickpockets and petty thieves-not to mention light-fingered kender-undoubtedly drawn to Solace just for this occasion.
When he and Palin reached the jail, they found four town councilmen shuffling nervously, casting worried eyes at the two prisoners in their cell, as though the dangerous-looking pair might at any moment pull off some daring escape attempt, killing or taking the councilmen hostage in the process. To Gerard's eyes, the pair merely looked bored. They believed they would soon be released.
Behind the desk, Blair sat waiting to be relieved of duty, having guarded the prisoners during the night. He yawned, affecting an uninterested look, although he awarded Gerard a baleful glance. Gerard nodded to him, and he rose stiffly to his feet. "They're all yours," he said to Gerard as he left, though whether he meant the prisoners or the councilmen, Gerard wasn't sure.
Upon seeing Gerard and Palin, Cardjaf Duhar stepped forward, taking it upon himself to speak for the group. "Sheriff, please pardon the intrusion into your daily duties, but we're wondering whether any progress has been made in the investigation in Sheriff Joyner's murder or the strange accident which killed architect Beach. Some merchants in town are fretting. They're feeling especially vulnerable during this time, when so many strangers are in town. We would hate to see the fair or, even worse, the temple dedication marred by any additional, ah, untoward events."