Best Left in the Shadows (3 page)

Dax stepped forcefully toward the Tigress, closing the
distance till he was staring into her face. Immediately, Alys had a blade near
her hand. Behind her, she felt Squinting Raff step into the room with a heavy
menacing tread.

The Tigress held out a hand in the direction of her bouncer
as the whores held their collective breath.

“Tell me what you know,” Dax said, his voice low.

The older woman seemed unfazed by his aggressive posturing,
though. A pink tongue darted out and licked the crimson of her red lips as the
Tigress made a low noise in her throat. “Ooh, Inspector. Forceful and menacing.
Your father would approve.”

She raised her painted nails, studied them for a moment,
and put her hand against his chest once more. This time, the Tigress slowly
pushed Dax away. “But it is a pointless display. Surely she has told you the
rules. There is nothing for free in Lowside. Not even for you, young Lord
Ellis.”

Alys reached into an inner pocket and pulled out two
pressed gold sovereigns. She held them up and then made them dance across her
knuckles. “Two,” she said.

“Four,” the Tigress countered. She rolled her eyes at Dax. “You
know he can afford it, dear.”

Gritting her teeth hard enough to feel them grinding in to
dust, Alys pulled out two more of the valuable coins. The Tigress extended her
hand and Alys dropped them into her palm. She was careful not to let her skin
touch the Tigress’s. The river water and ocean smell of the Sumpworks would
wash off, but the taint of the Tigress was more than Alys was willing to deal
with tonight.

Adjusting her fur robe, the Tigress sighed heavily. “Young
Lydia came to my door looking for employment, actually. She claimed she needed
money. Desperately and urgently.” She shook her head with an almost-convincing
air of sympathy. “She must have been running from something dark, the poor
girl.”

“Dark enough to turn to whoring?” Alys asked.

The Tigress regarded her with heavily lined eyes. “It is
not an uncommon tale.”

“What was she running from?” Dax asked.

“I am sure I do not know, but I am not the person you
should be directing your questions to regarding young Lydia’s dilemmas. You
would be best served finding a young man named Calder. He is an inkman in this
district.”

“Inkman?” Dax asked. “A tattooist? Who is he? Where can we
find him?”

Inwardly, Alys groaned. Too eager. Much too eager.

“The district is so busy these days, my lovely man. So many
names and faces to be expected to keep track of one individual.”

Even before the Tigress had finished her words, Dax pulled
forth a stack of gleaming coins. “I want to know about Calder,” he said, his
voice hard.

A wrinkled hand snatched the coins and made them into the
folds of the Tigress’s dressing gown with such smooth ease that even Alys had a
hard time following the motion.

The Tigress sighed theatrically. “Alas, poor Calder’s
talent was not as great as his capacity for misfortune. A degenerate gambler
from what I have known. His predilection has cost him a place in a number of
crews. It is this young man who Lydia has been sharing time with for the last
few months.” The Tigress shook her head. “Such a naive little girl, falling for
such a one as him. Calder owed many things to many people. Find him, and
perhaps he will have your answers.”

Alys had a sour taste in her mouth, though whether it was
from her proximity to the Tigress or from the picture beginning to form she did
not know. Calder the inkman seemed like one of a thousand Lowside shits and he
had likely seen Little Miss Highside coming like a torch in the night.

Dax spoke again. “Where is he?”

The Tigress slowly opened her dressing gown and one of the
gold coins appeared back in her hand. She slid the gold coin down across the
wrinkled skin of her cleavage till it was out of sight. Then, she cast her eyes
in Dax’s direction. “My part is done, Inspector. Finding him is your task.”

Alys moved over to Dax’s side and took his arm in a firm
grip. “We should go. Miserable experience as always, Tigress,” she said,
nodding in the older woman’s direction.

The Tigress drew her fur mantle closer around her. “Truly,”
she said back. “It is so memorable when you show up at my door. It is like a
dose of the pox.” She batted her eyes at Dax, and let a bit of the mantle fall,
exposing a bare shoulder. “Best of luck to you, Inspector,” she said. “And
should you see your father, send him my regards.”

Squinting Raff escorted them back onto the street. Alys
could still smell the sickly sweet scent of the Tigress’s perfume on her
clothes and in her hair. It made her want to jump into the Prion’s dark waters.
She glanced over to Dax. His brow was creased with thought.

When they were out of sight of the Tigress’s domain, Dax
frowned, but in his eyes gleamed renewed determination. “Well,” he said. “We
have some progress.”

Surprised, Alys stopped walking and turned toward him. “We
almost had a lot worse. What was the righteous, angry magistrate act in there?”
she said. “You know Squinting Raff could have had you in a moment.”

Dax shrugged. “I assumed you had me covered on that front.”

“Awfully big assumption.”

“It didn’t used to be,” she thought she heard him say, but
before she could be sure Dax was already moving on. “So we know who she was
seeing. Now we just have to find him. Where would he be?”

“Probably far away from here.”

“Do you know any way to track down somebody like that?”

Alys crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you think I can
just mine some connections and find any degenerate that happens to be Lowside?”

“Can you?”

“Of course I can, but what’s the point, Dax?” she said.
Seeing that the light was not fading from his eyes, she shook her head. “Look,
the guy is likely a clipper looking for an easy score. As soon as his pigeon
wound up dead, he likely went underground to lay low.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was a mark. This Calder went after her, got what he
needed, and then either got her involved in something that got her killed or
killed her himself.”

“Ever the cynic, Alys. How can you assume he was just using
her? What if he did love her? And she, him?”

Alys scoffed, but frustration gave an edge to her words. “You
always did love a good fairy tale, Dax. You just could never let it go.”

He opened his mouth as if to retort, but then seemingly
thought better of it. “Either way,” he said, the words sharp and clipped, “this
investigation is not over until we find Calder. If you think you can do it.”

Alys laughed at that. Trying to goad her into it. It was so
clumsy it was almost endearing. “You want the inkman, Inspector? I’ll get you
your inkman.”

The Course of True Love

It wasn’t even dark by the time Alys had tracked him
down.

The more that Alys asked around, the more she was able to
get a picture of her quarry. In addition to being a fairly skilled hand with a
tapping needle and ink, Master Calder was also a degenerate gambler.

He was in deep to a number of folks all over the district.
Supposedly, some of Keyburn’s boys out of the Olde Sportsman’s Hall had
stumbled across him sometime last night. No one had seen him on the street
since then, which meant he’d still be at the Sportsman’s. If he was still
alive, of course.

It had been a few months since she had had occasion to
visit the place, but things had not changed. At this point in the afternoon,
things were quiet, with just a few men and women sitting at the tables dealing
King’s Cross, or rolling dice.

Most noticeably though, the rat pit was empty and silent.
In the center of the room were rows of wooden benches set in an amphitheater-style
around a low circular wall. Inside the wall, sawdust lined the wooden floor to
make clean-up easier, but the room still smelled like old blood and
animal fear.

Behind the bar, Magda was there, as always, wiping down the
polished wood with a rag. She pushed back her blonde curls from her face and
reached for two small jacks. She poured them each a dram from the jug of punch
on the counter.

“Ta, Magda,” Alys said in thanks, knocking back the drink
and feeling the burn down her throat. Dax followed suit.

“Not at all, Alys,” Magda said. “Heard you been to see the
Tigress of late. Figured you could use a dose of stability.” She glanced down
over at Dax. “Especially given your escort.”

“Business has its strange demands some days, Magda. Keyburn
here?”

“Out round the back. Dealing with a delinquent collection.
But go on with you. He’ll be glad to see you, busy or not.”

“Cheers, Magda,” Alys said, motioning for Dax to follow.

“Glad for the sight of you, Alys,” Magda called after them.

Alys stepped out into the late afternoon daylight. The
smell coming from the small sty of pigs kept behind the building was sharp and
pungent, and the animals themselves were loud. Even over the sound of pigs,
Alys heard the heavy slapping sounds of someone getting the worst of a beating.

Dax’s hand went to the hilt of his sword, but her hand shot
out and caught his wrist tightly. Her eyes met his, and she shook her head. He
frowned, but released his grip.

Alys walked around the side of the big building. There,
behind the pig pen, two men were taking turns methodically beating a third man.
A tall man with thick, dark sideburns and a long face leaned against the wall.
He looked decidedly bored with the proceedings.

“Running a successful business can be so tedious, can’t it,
Keyburn?” Alys called out.

The tall man’s eyes widened. “Alys!” he said jovially,
leaping off the wall and coming toward them. He wrapped Alys in a tight embrace
and grinned at Dax. “And you bring a guest as well.” He bowed low. “Keyburn the
Sportsman. You must be the Magistrate Inspector. The Blacktide sent word you’d
be out and about the district.”

A heavy smacking sound came from behind Keyburn, followed
by a groan of pain. Alys peered around Keyburn’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt
you, Key, but I was hoping you might have a line on someone I’m trying to track
down.”

“Please. You are never an interruption, Alys. The boys
could do with a bit of a break.” He whistled once, sharply, and the two large
men let the beaten man fall heavily to the ground, where he lay panting and
bleeding.

Keyburn turned back to Alys. “Now, what is it I can do for
you, fair cousin?”

Alys smiled. “I’m looking for a Lowside slummer. Inkman.
Between crews, likely. Gambler and grafter named Calder.”

There was a muffled moan from the man on the ground.

“Why young master Calder is right here,” Keyburn said,
stepping back and gesturing to the man on the ground. “We were just discussing the
negatives inherent in not only being delinquent in repaying a debt, but also
dishonesty.”

Keyburn walked over to Calder and gave the man a quick
sharp kick to the ribs. “He assured me he would have my money as of two days
ago. And yet, when the lads came across him last night, he was empty-handed.
Tsk tsk.”

At his feet, Calder moaned and rolled over onto his back,
breathing hard.

Alys looked over to Dax. His lips were set in a tight line.
He had not taken his eyes off Calder since Keyburn had confirmed his identity.
She could practically hear his teeth grinding together.

She sighed.

“How deep is he in to you, Key?” she asked.

“Including the juice on his original borrow?” he said. “Twelve
stacks.”

Alys’s mouth fell open. “Twelve stacks?” she said, shooting
a look at the man on the ground. “You must be a complete degenerate to rack up
numbers like that.” Alys rubbed a hand over her forehead in frustration and
sighed once more. “Look, Key. I got need for him. You willing to sell me his
marker?”

Keyburn seemed a bit surprised, but he slowly nodded his
head. “I would be, but I gotta warn you, cousin. He likely owes at least one
other house besides mine. A few toughs came asking for him early this morning.
I had to remind them that I had found him first, so I had first claim.” Keyburn
shrugged. “If you buy up his marker, you won’t be the only one with a claim on
him.” He smiled at her with stained teeth. “Never let it be said I entered into
a deal without giving full disclosure.”

“I am obliged, Key, and I’ll take my chances.” She looked
down at the form slumped on the ground. “I do need him to talk, though. You
started work on his teeth yet?”

“Not at all,” Key said. “Just a bit of the body for today.
Was thinking ear tomorrow, then perhaps teeth, but not my problem anymore.
Provided you have something worth his twelve stacks, Alys.”

“I know the names of the Razors that three of the schools
are putting up to fight in the tournament next month. Not the bloodsport down
by the gate, mind you. The big, sanctioned fights up near Crucis. That worth
something to you?”

Keyburn’s eyes lit up. “Why yes, that would be a fine start
on the marker.”

“Then we’ll call it that, and two more pieces of substance,
if and when they cross my path.” She pressed her hand against her heart and
then held her hand out toward Keyburn.

Looking at her outstretched hand for a moment, Keyburn
sighed and pressed his own palm against his heart and took her by the forearm. “I
always did have a soft spot for you, Alys.” He smiled though. “Well, at least I
know that unlike with Master Calder here, you are good for your promised
payment.”

“Of course. Your Razors are Coraxon Nox, a Vertigo, Vestan,
an Aegis, and from Faith, new face named Gideon. The Faith is a lock to win it
all. Trust me.”

“Your word has always been good enough,” Keyburn said. “My
thanks, Alys.” He glanced back to Calder. “I fear I may have gotten the better
of you on this deal, cousin,” he said. “Feel free to take your new friend
inside the Olde Sport. Drinks on me, and a place for you to talk.”

“Ta, Key. Much gratitude.”

“Come!” Keyburn said. “Enough sun and dust. Time for
healthy darkness and drink.” With that, he headed back toward the Hall.

Alys followed Keyburn, leaving Dax to bear the burden of
the beaten Calder.

Inside, she selected a comfortable booth in the rear corner
of the building. Dax dropped Calder unceremoniously onto the carved wooden
bench, and the young man slumped down in the seat. He tried to raise his head
and look at the two of them, but both his eyes had started to swell shut. His
exposed skin was a colorful mixture of red blood and dark ink from the designs
that covered him.

The knuckles of his fingers were marked, and Alys
recognized a few of the designs there. A rose blooming from the hilt of a
dagger. He had come of age in a crew. This one started young. On the back of
the hand was a crown wrapped in chains. She counted four links. Imprisoned four
times. It was a wonder Dax didn’t recognize him, the little idiot had been down
in the depths of the House of Law enough times.

Alys shook her head. She had just purchased a very
expensive piece of shit.

Dax cleared his throat. “I am Magistrate Inspector Daxton
Ellis. I was told you knew Lydia Ashdown. She was found dead on the docks here
in Prionside early this—”

“I done it,” Calder said, staring with ravaged, swollen
eyes. “I killed her. Take me in.”

Dax stopped dead in his words. “What did you say?” he said
quietly.

“Ah, a Lowside love story,” Alys said. “She surely fell for
the right man. A few words, a couple of lovely promises, and then murdered and
left on a Prionside dock.”

“Just… just take me in,” Calder said.

Without warning, Dax grabbed Calder and lifted him up in
his seat. “You don’t get to issue orders here, you shit,” he hissed. “Lydia. I
want to know why. Why!”

“Dax,” Alys said, and the sound of her voice seemed to cut
through his rage. He blinked once, and then released Calder, letting the man
fall heavily back down into his chair.

Alys moved in close. “I own your marker. I now own you. So,
the Inspector wants the sordid tale, and I mean for him to have it. So, you
speak. Did she wise up to your grift? Is that what happened?”

Calder blinked once. “I ain’t never had anything good in my
life. I ain’t saying that to make excuses. It’s just… just bad luck. Bad damned
luck.” He seemed to catch himself then, stopping his words and looking past Dax
to the few other customers sitting in the dark corners of the Sportsman’s. “She
was just a mark,” Calder said. “I was trying to make some easy coin, and I
played her for a while but she wised up, and I…”

He stopped looking at the other customers and returned his
attention first to Alys and then to Dax. “I’ll make a full confession. Anything
you want. But at the station. Not here. Out of Lowside. There ain’t anything
left for me here now,” he said before beginning to weep.

Dax was quiet for a long moment before he stood up and
headed to the bar.

Alys sat down beside him as he ordered a drink from Magda
and drained it silently. “That’s it then. It’s over. As simple as that.” He
looked at her. “You going to say I told you so?”

“Thought it would be tacky.”

Dax offered a weak smile, but it faded as his eyes went
back to Calder. “Just didn’t think it’d actually turn out like this. It’s so
simple. Girl meets the wrong guy and gets killed for it.”

“Almost. Girl falls in love with the wrong guy and gets
killed for it.”

There was a long pause until, finally, Alys couldn’t take
it. “Why are you looking so glum. It’s not like you killed the girl.” She
caught Dax’s eye. “You did good. Your chief magistrate will be thrilled. You
found the killer. Got your precious justice.”

Dax’s brow remained furrowed and she saw the tension in his
clenched jaw. “I didn’t kill her,” he said, his eyes closed tightly, “but maybe
I could’ve saved her.”

Alys was quiet, unsure what to say, and unwilling to
interrupt him now that he was finally bringing out into the open whatever had
been cutting at him all day.

He drew in a long, shuddering breath. “Three months ago,
when Kara Ashdown came to me and asked me to look for her sister, I looked. And
fairly quickly, everything in Highside was coming up empty. Not just the usual
quiet of discretion and secrecy to protect delicate reputations. There was
nothing of Lydia up there. And I knew, knew in my gut, that she had gone Lowside.”

He looked at her then, and she saw the pain and shame and
disappointment in his eyes, and she remembered the last time he had looked like
that. Only this time, those feelings were directed at himself instead of at
her.

“I didn’t look,” Dax said. “Not even a single inquiry. I
didn’t want to get near Lowside. I couldn’t.” Dax shook his head. “At first, I
thought it was because of you. Because I was afraid to see you. Even this
morning on the dock, it was all I could think of. Seeing you again. But just now,
with Calder… I realized it was really something more.”

Suddenly, it clicked for Alys. “You wanted to believe the
fairy tale,” she said softly. “You wanted them to have been in love and run off
together and be living somewhere happier ever after.”

Dax’s silence showed that she had hit the target.

“Then you’re just as big an idiot today as you were then.”

“Maybe I am,” Dax muttered
before downing the rest of his drink in a quick, savage gulp. “Come on. I’ve
got a prisoner to transport, and the sooner I’m out of Lowside the better.”

***

Alys noticed their first tail as soon as
they left the Sportsman’s.

He was good. Not great, but not an amateur. Alys picked him
up anyway, almost right away. The second one was not nearly as talented. She
spotted him even before he committed to moving after them.

Dax had Calder a half step in front of him, but he leaned
his head toward her. “We’re being followed.”

“I know.”

“How many?”

As three men stepped out from the corner ahead, Alys
sighed. “Enough.”

Three to the front, and three to the back. Not good. Alys
recognized the man who led the trio at the front: Festa. A Razor for hire
around Lowside and lead dog in a wolf-pack known as the Leather Aprons.
Worst of the worst.

Calder caught sight of the men ahead and began whimpering.

“Six of them,” Dax said in a low voice.

“Five and the Razor,” she said, pointing to the big man
walking in the lead.

Dax blew out a low breath. “If he gets his power—”

“Then we don’t let him get a chance,” she said, cutting Dax
off. “Worry not, darling Dax. I will take care of the big bad Razor.”