THE drive back to the house on Tridi night was quiet and tense, but neither Avraal nor Gaaroll sensed anyone who might be a sniper. Even so, Dekkard let out a long breath when he stopped the Gresynt under the portico roof to let off Gaaroll and Avraal.
Avraal reached out and squeezed his hand before she got out of the steamer.
Dekkard garaged the Gresynt, checked the water and kerosene levels, and the acetylene tank and fittings, then closed the garage door and walked to the portico. For a moment, he stopped because he saw young Tomas hopping from place to place on the front walk.
The youngster stopped and looked at Dekkard.
“Just wave to the man, Tomas,” said the nanny.
Tomas waved enthusiastically.
Dekkard smiled and waved back before he climbed the steps to the portico door. He’d no sooner entered the house than Avraal called, “Hang up your coat and go wash. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Although he hurried, Dekkard was the last one to the table, partly because he got the wine for Emrelda and Avraal, and the lager for Gaaroll and himself. He sat down and looked at the main serving platter, trying to figure out the dish, then asked, “Rabbit?”
“Oven-roasted rabbit with bacon and herbs, to be exact,” said Emrelda.
Dekkard didn’t need to ask about the cheesed potato slices or the spicy turnips, which he hadn’t seen in years, not since he’d left home.
Once everyone’s platter was full, Emrelda said, “What happened in your lives today?” She looked at Dekkard.
“Mostly routine matters and a rather subdued Security Committee meeting where a Commercer councilor declared that the only way to deal with the New Meritorists was to scrap the Security reforms, and send the STF and Special Agents after the whole lot. After that there were only a few constructive and workable suggestions.”
“All of them yours?” asked Avraal with a mischievous smile.
“A few, and Navione and Baar each added one.” Dekkard looked to Emrelda. “I suspect you had a more eventful day.”
“I feared so, but Captain Narryt turned it into routine. I thought I might have to testify at the trial of those three Special Agents, until the captain told me that I wasn’t needed because they all pled guilty to all the charges.”
“All of them?” asked Gaaroll. “No way the bastards’d do that.”
“They faced charges of attempted murder and the possibility of involuntary manslaughter,” replied Emrelda. “If they pled guilty to all the other charges, the prosecutor agreed to drop the murder and manslaughter charges. They were sentenced to six years in the Jaykarh Mountain Work Camp, with the additional stipulation that any future felonious offense would result in involuntary exile.”
“Six years isn’t long enough for them,” said Gaaroll.
“I still wonder why the prosecutor didn’t want a trial,” said Dekkard. “The trial would have revealed just how corrupt the Special Agents have become.”
“Possibly,” replied Avraal. “But if that gets revealed, a lot of people will question why the Council passed legislation that keeps them in good standing and gives them new jobs. It might also come out that the sponsor of that legislation lived in the house those three targeted. It could have gotten messy. I’m sure the legalists for the Special Agents made that clear to the prosecutor. Obreduur likely wants to keep things simple.”
Once again, political imperatives are making it harder.
Gaaroll just snorted dismissively.
Dekkard decided to concentrate on the rabbit and the potatoes. He only ate a small portion of the spicy turnips, but Gaaroll had no difficulty finishing off the last of the turnips.
Later, once Dekkard and Avraal retired to their bedroom, he looked at her and asked the question that had been troubling him since she’d reported on her discovery. “What do we do now? Everything leads to Minz, and there’s not a shred of hard evidence.”
“He has us—you, especially—on the defensive. We need to put him where he’s reacting, where he’s a little uncertain.”
Dekkard almost pointed out that such actions could be dangerous, then smiled ruefully.
“You’re smiling. What’s so amusing?”
“I was about to say that could be dangerous, but how much more dangerous could it be than already being targeted?”
“A bit more, but not so dangerous as doing nothing,” suggested Avraal.
“I do have one thought. Can you get hold of Atacaman fire pepper dust?” asked Dekkard.
“No, but regular red pepper dust will do, if I’m guessing what you have in mind. If the grocers here don’t carry it, I can make it. Either way, that should suffice, and, that way, it’s clearly a prank and not a crime.”
“How do you know how to do that?”
“We used to crush the seeds into flakes to keep the squirrels from the root crops in the garden. Father used making the flakes and the dust as a punishment when we didn’t please him.”
“Let’s hope you can buy it and not have to make it. What else?”
“A new Realto shouldn’t have loose acetylene fittings. Little things like that. We need to come up with more than a few.”
“Except we don’t even know where he lives—” Dekkard broke off the words as he saw Avraal smile. “You tailed him?”
“How else? He has a very stylish flat in Westpark, with covered parking that’s disappointingly unsecure.”
“I suppose you also discovered whether he’s married?”
“He’s not. He almost was once, but it didn’t work out.”
“Cherlyssa Maergan?”
“She’s a bit of a bitch, but she’s too smart to even think of it. No, Iferra Vonacht. She wouldn’t talk about it, except to say that breaking off the engagement was the smartest thing she ever did. That was before you started with Obreduur.”
“I take it that he made a pass at you.”
“I never let him get that close. Besides, he knew I wasn’t impressed. You might recall that he almost never approached you when I was around.”
Dekkard hadn’t thought about it, but that was definitely true. “You’re also better at wordplay and double meanings.”
“One of the few advantages of a Landor upbringing.”
Catching the slight sardonic edge to her words, Dekkard replied, “But you can put them to better use now.”
“I know,” she said sweetly, “I do so well as a councilor’s wife.”
Dekkard winced.
“It’s not you. I never wanted to be just an ornament.”
“You never have been with me.” Especially since I’d already be dead without you.
“Too many councilors look at me that way.”
“Not the ones who count. Certainly not Obreduur, or Hasheem, Mardosh, Bassaana, or even Vhiola Sandegarde.”
“That’s a start, I suppose.”
“It’s only been a month and a half,” Dekkard pointed out. “It takes a little while. Nobody thinks of Ingrella as an ornament. Or Delehya—”
“Delehya?”
“The Scarlet Daughter who married the Premier at the time.”
“That’s a comparison I can do without, thank you.”
But Dekkard detected the hint of a smile, and he grinned.
Avraal shook her head, but there was amusement in the gesture. Then she said, “We need more ideas, but we’ve made a start.”
“Sleep on it?”
“In a while.” This time Avraal gave more than a hint of a smile.