Powder Mage: The Autumn Republic Part 44

At Fell's insistence, Ricard left the building-ostensibly to meet Cheris for an early lunch-and several of his most valuable lieutenants were suddenly called away. Within thirty minutes, two men and three women had gathered in an empty hotel room. Adamat could only a.s.sume they were union members who had earned Ricard's trust but not yet been given any duties of importance.

Adamat stood near the window of the hotel room. Two of the women sat on the bed, and a third near the door, while both men had their backs to the wall. Everyone watched intently as Fell entered the room and closed the door behind her.

She began quietly, "What we say at this meeting does not leave this room, understand?"

The gathered group exchanged looks before giving their unanimous consent. Some of them glanced at Adamat and he wondered if any of them knew who he was. He recognized three of the faces by happenstance, but didn't know any of their names.

"There is a strong chance that someone has placed a bomb beneath this building," Fell said. To their credit, none of them headed for the door. "The perpetrator does not know that we know, and we are going to search the premises quickly and quietly until we find it. We will start with the bas.e.m.e.nt and work our way up. Before any of you ask, this is not a volunteer a.s.signment. If one of you leaves the building before I say so, you will never find work in this country again."

Adamat noted that one of the men had started to sweat violently. Fear? Or guilt? The woman by the door swallowed hard.

"That being said," Fell went on, letting a smile touch her lips, "once we find and dispose of the bomb, each of you will find yourself well rewarded. You'll receive promotions within the union and a not-insignificant amount of money. Inspector Adamat and I will lead the search. Questions? Yes, Draily?"

The woman by the door lowered her hand. "I don't know a d.a.m.n thing about bombs. How am I going to help with all this?"

Adamat cut in before Fell could respond. "No one knows anything about this kind of bomb," he said. "It's not gunpowder, but something called blasting oil. It does not respond to flame but rather to concussion, which means that our search needs to be very, very careful. Handle everything gently and, for Adom's sake, do not drop anything!"

"Then what the pit are we looking for?" the sweating man asked, his voice strained.

"I don't know," Adamat admitted. "A container of some sort. The blasting oil was sold in ten clear gla.s.s vials, stoppered at the top with corks. Our suspect may have transferred the oil to a new container, or it may still be in those same vials. We'll make a thorough examination of any liquid on the premises."

"Does this have anything to do with the bombing at the union headquarters?" one of the women on the bed asked.

"Possibly," Adamat said. They didn't need to know anything more than that. "Any other questions?"

A round of headshaking.

"Good," Fell said. "And again, be d.a.m.ned careful! If you find anything suspicious, let Inspector Adamat know immediately. Don't make a scene. We want to do this as quietly as possible. Now, everyone to the bas.e.m.e.nt."

Adamat stepped over to Fell as they all filed out of the room. "The brunette," Adamat said.

"Little Will?"

"Yes. Something about all this was making him nervous as pit. Grab him and put him under guard."

Fell gave a quick affirmative and left the room quickly after Will. Adamat pa.s.sed them in the hall, Fell with her hand on Will's shoulder and Will's collar soaked with sweat. Adamat followed the rest of the group down to the cellar. Lanterns were handed out quickly, and voices talked in hushed tones. Adamat held his lantern high and gripped his cane tightly. A tingle went down his spine as he descended into the damp stone bas.e.m.e.nt.

The four union workers looked to him when they reached the bottom, and he realized that Fell had not yet come down. He was seized by sudden suspicion. If even one of them was in on this bomb plot, they might make a go at him. He found himself sizing each of them up, planning the best way to defend himself.

A few moments pa.s.sed before he realized they were still watching him.

"Well, get to it."

"Uh, sir," Draily said. "Look."

Adamat shook the fear from his head and stepped forward. They stood in a long, arched hallway with walls of stone, and off the hallway to the right were a dozen niches that extended out beneath the hotel. At the far end of the hall was a low, heavy door.

Draily was pointing into the first niche. Adamat held his lantern inside and squinted. "Nothing but wine," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Is it?"

"Oh." Realization set in. Of course. Any of these wine bottles could be the bomb or bombs he was looking for. It would be the best place to hide something like that-in plain sight. Adamat tapped his fingers on his stomach, then said, "Search everything else. I'll check the wine."

The rest of the group moved on to the other niches, and Adamat began to inspect the wine. At first glance he estimated upward of two thousand bottles here, and Adamat wondered if this was the other part of Ricard's wine collection or whether the hotel was just this well stocked.

Adamat removed his jacket and hung it from a peg on the wall, rolling his sleeves up. He began examining each wine bottle, starting at the top row. They came in every variety; some were slender, dark-brown bottles, while others were fat green bottles with long necks.

He looked for consistency; the thickness of the dust, how the labels were positioned, as well as the size and shape of the bottle itself. He felt a growing despair as he went-if the blasting oil had been hidden inside a wine bottle, it might be impossible to find. A hotel such as this went through wine at an alarming rate. Some of the bottles had been here for months or years, and those were easy to tell from the layer of dust, but there were still at least eighty bottles that had been handled recently.

"You think our bomber is that devious?" Fell's voice said from the hallway.

Adamat didn't look up from his examination. "They'd have to be an idiot not to see the opportunity," Adamat said. "I don't know how to go about this without opening four dozen bottles to check their contents."

"A last resort, I think," Fell said. "You know how Ricard is about his wine."

"Would he rather drink a gla.s.s of blasting oil?"

"I'll have to point that out to him." She paused, then, "You're certain it's here?"

"Ricard was certain," Adamat said. "That's all I have to go on."

"He may be wrong."

"A possibility, sure," Adamat said. "But if he's right..."

"Not worth the risk. That man you pointed out, Will?"

"Anything?" Adamat stopped his search long enough to look hopefully toward Fell. If they'd just happened upon a conspirator, they might get a lucky break. Investigative science practically depended on lucky breaks.

"Just nervous," Fell said. "His father worked for a powder company and was killed in a blast two years ago. Will's terrified of explosions. I should have remembered it earlier. Poor man p.i.s.sed himself when I wouldn't let him leave the building."

Adamat returned his attention to the wine bottles. "A pity."

He heard a jingle of keys, and Fell said, "Mark where you are and come with me. I'll set a man to make sure the wine isn't disturbed. We need to search the Underhill Room."

"Oh?" Adamat made a mental note of the wine cellar and followed Fell down the hallway to the thick door at the end of the bas.e.m.e.nt. She unlocked it and pulled it open, the strain of her shoulders testifying to the weight.

Inside, Adamat was surprised to find another long corridor. He held his lantern high and glanced back at Fell.

"Go on."

He crept down the hall slowly, still clutching his cane, and he wondered briefly how much he trusted Fell. Her loyalty was supposed to be to Ricard for the duration of her contract. But what if that was all a lie? Could she have planned the bombing? She could kill him down here without a problem, then hide the body and tell Ricard he had left. Adamat's mind whirred through a dozen possible motives and all the reasons why he was wrong. By the time he reached the end of the hall, he was no less wary, and all the more certain that he wouldn't stand even the faintest chance against Fell in a fight.

His lantern created eerie shadows in the large, square room at the end of the hall. Fell squeezed past him to light candelabras along all four walls until the entire room had been illuminated. It looked like any of the hundreds of gentleman's clubs in Adopest-the walls were covered in velvet and the candelabras were polished bra.s.s. There was seating for at least a dozen people in the form of divans and couches, and the center of the room held a velvet-lined card table with room for six.

There was a dumbwaiter in one corner, likely leading up to the kitchen, and a smaller, private stock of wine as well as an untapped keg. A fireplace sat at either end of the room, though upon closer examination they appeared to be wood-burning stoves with stone facades.

"So this is the Underhill Society?"

Fell finished lighting the candelabras and blew out her lantern. "Yes."

"Has it been here the whole time?" Adamat remembered hearing about the Underhill Society for the first time over thirteen years ago and knew it was much older than that. Ricard had owned the hotel for only six.

"Only since Ricard bought the hotel. He hasn't told me where they met before that."

Adamat pointed back down the hallway. "Are they..."

"They can come search the room. It shouldn't take long. Just don't mention the... well, you know."

Fell's searchers finished their a.s.signed niches and then moved into the larger room, checked every nook and cranny thoroughly and without comment as to the room's purpose. Adamat returned to the wine cellar, resuming his examination of the bottles.

Frustration continued to mount. Every bit of instinct told him that the blasting oil should be hidden among the wine. It was too good a spot for any henchman with half a wit, and if the perpetrator had a whole wit, the oil would have been bottled carefully and put in among the less-used wines. Adamat cursed under his breath and tried to recall the latest fas.h.i.+onable wines among Ricard's friends and a.s.sociates-those would be the easiest to rule out.

The searchers moved up to the next floor, and Adamat only barely noted their pa.s.sing.

It must have been almost an hour later when he heard someone on the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs. He noted Fell's soft footfalls.

"Any progress upstairs?" he asked.

Fell set her lantern on a wine barrel in one corner. "None. It's a large hotel and with only four men it's a slow business. Progress here?"

"I've narrowed it down to a possibility of three dozen bottles," Adamat said.

"Are you sure you're putting your energy in the right place? After all, I'd think it would be obvious if any of the wine here had been uncorked."

"Certainly. But they could have done it off-site and brought the wine here." Adamat sighed and returned a bottle to its place. "I should have asked Ricard if any of his guests have brought him new wine recently."

"Everyone does," Fell said.

Adamat eyed the shelves where he'd sorted the most probable bottles. "Have him make a list for me. The only way to know for certain is to open every bottle. Or, more safely, to take the whole lot out of the city and throw it off a high cliff."

"Ricard would be... cross. He already lost his collection beneath the old headquarters. You know how he feels about his wine."

"The captain of the hotel will already gut me for destroying whatever system he had in place down here. Might as well infuriate Ricard as well. Get someone to help me carry these upstairs." He rubbed at his temples. "Pit, how am I going to get this out of the city? From everything Flerring told me, it's a terrible idea to transport the stuff by carriage. Too b.u.mpy."

"Ma'am?" a voice called down the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs.

Fell stepped into the bas.e.m.e.nt hall and called back. "Yes?"

"I think we've found something."

Adamat was on his feet in moments. He followed Fell up the stairs, where Draily waited. The woman led them both into the kitchen and stopped beside the silver cabinet. "Had to get the captain to open it up for me." She opened one of the doors and knelt in front of it. "You'll want to look yourselves. I don't really want to reach in there."

Adamat lay on the wood floor beside the silver cabinet and took Fell's lantern.

On the bottom shelf, behind the silver serving platters, was a wooden crate. It held gla.s.s vials with corks in the top and each one was filled with a clear liquid. Adamat suddenly felt his heart hammering in his ears.

"b.l.o.o.d.y pit," he said.

"It's there?"

"Yes."

Fell gave an audible sigh of relief.

"Fetch Flerring the Younger," Adamat said. "Probably best to have one of her professionals deal with the stuff. Post a heavy guard on this room, but try to do it quietly. And get me the kitchen staff. I want every single one of them here for questioning by this evening."

Fell barked orders to her people. Adamat felt her hand on his arm. "Excellent work, Inspector."

"Don't thank me yet," Adamat said, still lying on the floor, unable to take his eyes off the innocuous-looking bottles of blasting oil.

"Why?"

"There are two bottles missing."

CHAPTER.

38.

Tamas crept through the riverside rushes, knee-deep in the cold water of the Addown River.

He had one pistol in his belt, the other held with the barrel pointed skyward, and the sword at his side leaving a slight furrow against the current of the river. The night was crisp, his breath visible to his powder-enhanced senses. Somewhere off to his left, a fish jumped in the water, and he heard Andriya start behind him.

"Shh," Tamas said quietly. "Don't get twitchy on me."

Tamas was ready to reprimand him for a smart remark, but Andriya behaved himself. They pushed forward, frogs going silent at their advance but no sign of alarm in the fortress up ahead of them.

Fortress, Tamas reflected, was a stretch. The stone building was only two stories tall, with a twelve-foot wall that stretched from the riverside a hundred feet to the main highway. The whole thing was little more than an inspection station where government officers could check both carts on the road and barges in the water for contraband and tax dodgers heading between Adopest and Budwiel.

Before the revolution, it would have been staffed by just eight to ten servants of the crown. The Kez, when they swept past this point, had reinforced the whole building. Small-caliber cannons had been mounted along the wall and a sixteen-pound artillery piece had been placed on the end of the stone wharf that stuck out into the Addown. Tamas guessed that they'd left no less than a forty-man garrison.

Tamas approached the base of the wharf, his eyes on the top of the inspection station. Torches lit the wall, and he could see the bobbing of a bayonet that betrayed the presence of a guard.

Something touched his arm and Tamas stopped, looking back. Andriya pointed into the rushes, and after a moment Tamas could see a nest where a yearling goose eyed him angrily.

He waded deeper into the water to avoid the nest, then shoved his pistol in his belt and tightened his sword against his thigh. He reached up until he could feel the stone ledge above him, and with a quick motion he was up on the wharf.