“You want me to question her, then?” asked the Duchess, her eyes almost sparkling with animation.
“Precisely. I know you, Mary; you are going to snoop anyway, and I would prefer that all the snoopers in this case have their activities co-ordinated as much as possible. So your job will be the Damoselle Tia. Question her — but not directly. Use indirectness and subtlety. Get to know her; gain her confidence if you can. Certainly there would be nothing suspicious about the two of you discussing the murder. I dare say everyone in the hotel is discussing it.”
She laughed. “Discussing it? Haven’t you felt the psychic tension in this place?”
“To a certain extent, but not, obviously, to the degree that you can sense it.”
“Well, it’s there, all right. There have been enough protective spells cast, enough amulets charged, enough charms and counter-charms worked in the past twenty-four hours to ward off a full phalanx of the Legions of Hell.” Her smile faded. “They’re not only talking about it, my dear; they’re doing something about it. The Guild is a damn sight more disturbed than it would appear upon the surface. There is a Black Sorcerer around with enough power to kill Master Sir James Zwinge. That’s enough to make a Master edgy; what do you think it’s doing to us journeymen? We’ve got to find him — and yet the counter-spells in this hotel have obfuscated any trace of the kind of evil malignancy that should be hanging like swamp fog over the place. It has all of us in a tizzy.”
“I shouldn’t wonder,” Lord Darcy said. “But at least that will allow you to bring up the subject at any time without arousing suspicion.”
“True. But there’s another factor we’ll have to consider. It will soon be all over the place, if it isn’t already, that you are working on this case, and it is certainly no secret that you and I are friends. If the Damoselle Tia knows that, she may try to pump me for information.”
“Let her try, my dear. Find out what kind of information she’s looking for. If she just asks questions that would be normal under the circumstances, that tells us one thing. If the questions seem a little too urgent or a trifle off-key, that tells us another. But don’t give her any information except what is common knowledge. Tell her that I am reticent, that I am dull, that I am a bore — anything you like, so long as you make it clear to her that I tell you nothing.
“And try to keep a close watch on the girl, if you can do it without being too conspicuous about it.
“Will you do that for me, Mary?”
“I’ll do my best, my lord.”
“Excellent. Lord Bontriomphe and I will be setting up a temporary headquarters here in the hotel. There will be a Sergeant-at-Arms on duty there at all times. If you have any messages for me, let him know, or leave a sealed envelope with my name on it.”
“Very well,” said Her Grace, “I’ll take the job. Be on about your snooping, and I shall be on about mine.”
Lord Bontriomphe was waiting patiently in the hall outside.
“Where now?” he asked.
“Down to see the General Manager, Goodman Lewie,” said Lord Darcy. “We may as well make arrangements for our temporary headquarters.” They walked on down the hall. “Do you have three good Sergeants-at-Arms to spare for this duty, so we can have someone there twenty-four hours a day?”
“Easily,” Lord Bontriomphe said. “Plainclothes or uniformed?”
“Uniformed, by all means. Everyone will know they are Armsmen anyway, and Armsmen in uniform will draw attention away from any plainclothes operatives we may need to use.”
“Right. I’ll arrange it with Chief Hennely.”
Downstairs at the desk, Lord Bontriomphe asked to speak to Goodman Lewie Bolmer. The clerk disappeared and returned a minute later and said: “Goodman Lewie asks if you would be so good as to come back to his office, my lords.”
The two investigators followed the clerk back to an office at the rear of the registration desk. Lewie Bolmer stood up as they were shown in.
The general manager looked haggard. Except for the dark pouches beneath his eyes, his saggy face looked pale and sallow, as though the folds and bags of translucent skin that made up his face were filled with soft suet instead of flesh. His smile seemed genuine, but it was as tired as the rest of him.
“Good afternoon, your lordships,” he said. “How may I help you?”
Lord Bontriomphe introduced Lord Darcy, and then explained their need for a temporary headquarters.
“I think… yes, we have just the thing,” said the manager after a moment’s thought. “I can put you in the night manager’s office. He can double up with the afternoon manager if… uh… when he comes back to work. I’ll clean out his desk and… uh… put his stuff in the other office. It’s a fairly good-sized office — just a little smaller than this one. Will that do?”
“We’d like to take a look at it, if we may,” said Bontriomphe.
“Certainly. If your lordships will come this way—”
He led them to a corridor that ran from the lobby to the rear of the building, just to one side of the registration desk. There were two doors leading off it to the right, just a few yards from the lobby. Further back, more doors led off on either side. Goodman Lewie opened the second of the two doors.
The first one is the afternoon manager’s office,” he explained. “This is what I had in mind, your lordships.” He waved his hand in a gesture that took in the fifteen-by-fifteen room.
“It looks fine to me,” said Lord Bontriomphe. “What do you think, Darcy?”
“Perfectly satisfactory, I should say.” He looked down the corridor toward the rear of the building. “Where does this corridor lead, Goodman Lewie?”
“Those are the service rooms back there, your lordship. Lumber rooms, furniture repair workshop, laundry, janitors’ supplies — that sort of thing. The door at the far end is the back entrance. It opens into Potsmoke Alley, which is an extension of Upper Swandham Lane.”
“Can it be opened from the outside?”
“Only with a key. It has a night lock on it. Anyone could go out, but one needs a key to get back in.”
“I have an idea,” said Lord Bontriomphe. “We can station an Armsman back there to make sure no unauthorized person comes in, then we’ll unlock the door. That way, the Armsmen can come and go as necessary without tromping through your lobby and disturbing your guests. Would that be all right?”
“Of course, your lordship!”
“Good. I’ll have a Sergeant-at-Arms down here to take charge of the office.”
“Very well, your lordship. I’ll have the desk cleared out. Will there be anything else?”
“Yes,” said Lord Darcy. “One other thing. Yesterday, the hotel was closed to all except members of the Healers’ and Sorcerers’ Convention, was it not?”
“And their guests, yes. Only those who had business here were allowed in. The doormen had explicit orders about that.”
“I see. Is any record kept?”
“Oh, yes. There is a register book kept at the door at all times. Not today, of course, since this is Visitor’s Day, but during those times when the Convention is closed.”
“I should like to see it, if I may,” Lord Darcy said.
“You certainly may, your lordship. Shall we return to my office? I’ll fetch the register book for you.”