“You don’thaveto say anything to that. The prefect of Arland has all the records. But I don’t want to make him skittish over such a small matter, and we don’t want to be trapped here while we wait for a reply to our inquiry, do we?”
“Is the prefect of Arland under investigation as well?”
“All prefects everywhere are always under investigation.”
The stout man stepped forward, but Septima stopped him with a gesture. “It’s fine,” she said, “it was a long time ago, and he was a child. And all the instigators were apprehended.”
The stout man nodded and stepped behind Cain, seeming disappointed he hadn’t been needed to break a finger or throw a punch to Cain’s jaw.
Septima continued. “Unless, of course, youareinvolved in seditious activities. After all, you must feel some grudge against the prefect of Arland for what he did to your family.”
She was trying to scare him, preparing him for the real interrogation. If she really had suspected him, this whole affair would be going very differently. “Enough about my parents and this nonexistent sedition. You said yourself that I was just a child back then, andI assume you already know I don’t hang around other Arlanders. I’m busy with my life here, so let’s dispense with these Intelligence pleasantries and get to the point. What do you want from me?”
Septima let slip a short laugh and nodded. “This morning, I heard you were quite well-known around the market square for being ratherhelpful.That even the district patrollers received yourhelpa few times.”
“A few times.” He shrugged as best he could with his arms tied behind his back. “I’ve got eyes and ears. Speaking of my eyes, be careful with those.”
Septima scoffed, clicking the legs of the spectacles again. “You really need these to see properly, don’t you? Lenses are not something street riffraff can afford, even if they work at a moderately successful oil shop. How did you come by these?”
Cain licked his lips. “You already know that I do odd jobs for people in my neighborhood. It was a gift from a glassmaker for a job well done.”
Septima raised her eyebrow again. “What did you do for him?”
“Herson was being held for ransom by a street gang. The patrollers couldn’t be bothered, but I could.”
Her hands unfolding the spectacles, Septima floated a faint smile. “So, you are something of an investigator, a problem solver, much like I am. You know how to handle these things.”
Cain almost returned the smile in pride. “I’d like to think so.”
Septima suddenly leaned toward him. Unable to read her face, Cain felt his muscles tense. She gently placed his spectacles over his eyes. Cain relaxed a little as his vision cleared. Septima’s eyes showed a hint of concern.
“Then why were you off to that house like a charging bull when you should’ve known better? What was she to you, that made you so reckless?” Septima lowered her voice a little. “Do you want me to tell you what might have happened to you if we didn’t intervene in time? That house is a vipers’ nest. It wouldn’t have ended with a little beating in an alleyway. Two of our own informants have gone missing.”
“Maybe the Ministry of Intelligence needs better training for its agents.”
At this, the stout man grabbed Cain by the throat. Devadas detached himself from the wall and took a step toward them, but Septima raised her hand again, directing them both to stand down. Despite the show of rage, the stout man’s grip was measured. He was a professional, and a good actor too. He hadn’t volunteered his name, nor had Septima introduced him. Would he give his name, real or fake, when asked? The hand fell from Cain’s neck.
Septima continued.
“You’re different, right? You never miss a thing? You never forget what you see and what you hear? That’s what the patrollers say. You must be very chummy with the sergeant. He even showed you Fienna’s body.”
Cain didn’t answer.
“You must know then that her funeral is tomorrow?”
The words were like a blow to the head. He hadn’t known there would be a funeral, much less who would pay for it or who would come. He was ashamed. He lowered his head and shook it.
“Let me make you an offer.”
At that, Cain raised his head again. “An offer?”
“There is quite a lot of… interference. In Gladdis’s case. She has ties to the Senate, you see.”
Lukan had also mentioned the rumor that Gladdis was close to an Imperial senator.
“Which is why our office is having so much trouble handling her,” Septima went on, a note of distaste in her voice. “Every time we try to do something, an order comes down from above. We could use a little help from the outside.”
Cain had a feeling about where this conversation was headed. This could be a valuable chance for him, in his own investigation into Fienna’s murder.
