Leximandra Reports, and other tales (3 page)

In the end she
settled for something of both. Hastily unwrapping her “parcel” she
extracted the Depictioner and slipped the strap around her neck.
Grasping the thing like a shield, she tapped lightly on the
door.

Still no answer
came.

Lexi hovered,
tapped again, waited. Nothing.

Stayne’s smart
footsteps reached her ears. He was on the stairs. What should she
do? Accept defeat and return another time?

No: not when her
job was at stake. Lexi peeked inside.

The handsome and
expensively-furnished drawing-room was empty, but set into the far
wall was another door. She slipped silently across the room, took a
breath to raise her courage, and opened this new door.

A short corridor
lay behind, windowless and dark. Lexi stepped in and closed the
drawing-room door behind her before Stayne could determine where
she had gone. Pausing a moment to adjust to the nearly full
darkness in the passageway, she cautiously groped her way through,
keeping close to the wall. Night-eyes she might have, but even she
needed some measure of light to see; it would never do to stumble
here and alert someone to her presence.

The soft murmur
of words spoken in low tones caught her attention and she stopped.
To her left was a door she had almost missed. It stood slightly
ajar; the voices were certainly coming from beyond it. She pushed
lightly against it, hoping fervently that it wouldn’t creak. A few
more inches of space was enough: she put her eye to the
gap.

Her immediate
instinct was to back away again.

Idiot,
she told herself.
This is what you came for!

She was looking
at a sumptuous sitting room, softly lit with flickering glass
light-globes hovering in corners and near the ceiling. Lady
Glostrum was present, wearing a glorious off-shoulder gown of deep
red velvet. Her pure white hair was uncharacteristically loose.
Despite this state of partial undress, her ladyship had
company.

Her guest’s
picture had been displayed on the city bulletin boards last week;
in fact several pictures had flashed past as part of a scrolling
display of foreign officials gathering in the capital. Lexi
couldn’t remember his name, but she knew his handsome face: he was
the ambassador for Ullarn.

The realm of
Ullarn was situated to the east and south. It was notoriously
inhospitable territory, and the realm’s government was habitually
suspicious. Few were suffered to visit, not even on official
business. Instead they sent ambassadors and delegates
out
,
and those ambassadors were - at least by report - prickly,
stiff-necked, self-important people. Difficult to deal
with.

Lady Glostrum
seemed to be dealing with this one rather well. The ambassador was
sitting on a low divan, his face in profile. Her ladyship was
seated in his lap; as Lexi watched, she bent to kiss
him.

Well, this would
certainly thrill Brysold.

Lexi brought the
Depictioner up and trained it on my lady and her unorthodox guest.
She tensed, knowing that she would have to activate the device and
then get out, quickly. The flash of light would instantly give away
her presence. Her hands shook and she muffed the first attempt to
take the picture.

Calm down,
stupid
.

Curses upon it
all. How she hated this kind of work.

Her ladyship was
talking, but she wasn’t speaking the official language of Glour.
Lexi guessed that she was speaking Ullarni. The ambassador said
something in reply as Lexi stood, trying to pull herself
together.

Her finger
tensed on the activation button. Light blazed, and she shut her
eyes until it passed. Lexi held the thing still, knowing it
required at least ten seconds to create a good image.

Lady Glostrum
and the ambassador were instantly alert, both staring directly at
Lexi with the Depictioner in her hand. Stored on that device was a
picture that would scandalise the realm of Glour when it came out.
Lexi backed away, trying to secure her device one-armed so she
could run without dropping it.

The Ullarni
ambassador was trying to rise, but her ladyship maintained her seat
in his lap, holding him down, speaking rapidly. Lexi wished she
could understand the words, but she didn’t wait to see more. When
the Depictioner was safely stored under her good arm, she turned
and fled.

Lexi was halfway
across the drawing-room when Lady Glostrum’s slightly deep,
cultured voice spoke a single word. ‘Stop.’

She had no
particular intention of stopping, but the authority in her
ladyship’s tone was hard to resist. Lexi’s pace slowed before she
knew what she was doing; the delay was enough; a hand gripped her
shoulder and forced her to turn. Trembling with fear - would she be
arrested, thrown into prison? - Lexi made herself look up into Lady
Glostrum’s face.

Her ladyship
surveyed Lexi silently, taking in the device clutched under one arm
and the absence of the opposite limb. Her face - as beautiful in
person as people said - was impassive. Lexi couldn’t even tell if
she was angry or not.

Stupid notion.
Of course she was angry.

At last her
ladyship spoke. ‘Who do you work for?’

‘
Brysold’s Society Week,’ Lexi stammered. ‘Um, that is, your
ladyship.’

‘
And
did Mr Brysold tell you to break into my house and spy upon
me?’

Lexi gulped. ‘In
a way but not - not exactly. Um, the paper isn’t doing well and he
thinks I’ve failed as a reporter. He told me to get something new
on you or - or he’d fire me. I’m so sorry but I was desperate.
Nobody else would give me a chance with - with this -’ She shrugged
the shoulder that didn’t end in an arm.

Lady Glostrum
digested this for a few moments, her eyes impossible to read. ‘I
can understand that,’ she said at last. ‘However, what you have
happened to discover... you will be aware how delicate relations
with Ullarn can be. It is the custom to treat Ullarni officials
with great care.’

Lexi dipped her
head in assent. ‘Y-yes, I know.’

‘
You
might guess, then, that the picture you have taken would not be
viewed favourably by my colleagues in government. It is likely that
the Ullarni government will not be impressed either. That image may
do considerable damage, if it is printed.’

Lexi swallowed.
That the likes of her held the power to affect the lives of nobles
and officials was hard to grasp.

‘
I am
prepared to purchase the picture from you,’ continued her ladyship.
‘The sum will be generous, I assure you.’

Lexi considered
for barely half a second before she shook her head. ‘It isn’t money
I need, your ladyship. Not exactly. What would I do when it ran
out? I need to keep my job.’

Lady Glostrum
nodded. Lexi was startled to see a hint of something like
apprehension - even fear - in her ladyship’s eyes.

‘
Why
would you do it?’ The question was blurted out before she could
stop herself. She blushed mightily as her ladyship raised her
perfect brows.

‘
Why
would I do what?’

‘
Um -
I meant - if it puts your reputation at risk, then
why..?’

Lexi couldn’t
form any more words under that imperious gaze, but apparently she’d
said enough to make herself understood. Lady Glostrum sighed, and
glanced briefly behind her. The room remained empty: the ambassador
had not followed.

‘
You
may believe it or not as you wish, but even nobles and government
ministers may have personal lives.’

Lexi ducked her
head. ‘Of course, my lady.’

‘
That’s not the whole reason, however.’ Her ladyship smiled
slightly. ‘Prickly they may be, but the Ullarni are as human as the
rest of us. It’s quite possible to forge close relations, if one is
willing to hazard the attempt. But all that is officially required
- or accepted - is a species of surface goodwill that means very
little. The connections I am forging may one day be of use to our
realm, but in the meantime... some of my methods would not, I
think, be entirely understood.’

Lexi nodded
hastily. ‘I didn’t mean to question you.’

‘
Nonsense. Of course you did. But you weren’t wrong to ask.’
All trace of a smile vanished from her face. ‘I will not threaten
you. If I cannot secure the picture by financial means, I must
resort to simpler methods. You have asked something of me: now I am
asking something in return. Mr Brysold must not receive that
picture.’

Lexi hesitated,
torn. She could grasp all too well the impact of publishing this
picture, and she had no desire to damage this mysterious and
mesmerising woman. But still, what could she do? She would not
receive another chance to satisfy Brysold’s demand for news. She
opened her mouth to reply, but the dry tones of the butler cut
across the silence in her stead.

‘
I
must apologise for the young person, my lady. I had thought she had
left the premises.’

Lady Glostrum
smiled over Lexi’s head. ‘That’s quite all right, Beane. The young
lady will be leaving now.’

The butler bowed
frigidly to Lexi, his disapproving eye settling on the Depictioner.
She allowed herself to be led away, casting a single glance back at
Lady Glostrum. Her ladyship stood watching, her face once again a
smooth mask. No hint of apprehension or entreaty could Lexi detect,
but guilt gnawed at her anyway.

Lexi walked
slowly back to her tiny home, her thoughts busy. Her decision was a
hard one, but she knew she had no real choice. She struggled with
herself for a time, then at last accepted the
inevitable.

She developed
the picture with painstaking care. It was a perfect, clear image.
Brysold would be delighted with her.

With only one
small, regretful sigh, Lexi lit a candle and held the beautiful
picture over the flame. The fire ate it rapidly, destroying beyond
retrieval the compromising image of Lady Glostrum and the
ambassador from Ullarn.

***

‘
What
do you mean, nothing?!’

Brysold was,
predictably, livid. He paced the cheap wooden boards that covered
the floor of his office, setting them creaking under the force of
his considerable weight. He was wearing his particularly dark
frown, the one that promised dire consequences for
somebody.

Lexi stood
quietly before him, her chin held high, waiting in trembling
anticipation as his fury washed over her. She had no doubt that she
would be fired. She recognised that some of her boss’s anger came
from desperation and anxiety over the paper’s future.

He would
naturally have to stop humouring her. She was an inept reporter:
they both knew it.

‘
Get
out of my sight,’ he said at last, having exhausted most of his
rage.

‘
Yes,
sir,’ she said sadly. ‘Am I to return next week, sir?’

‘
I
haven’t decided yet.’

Lexi managed to
nod. Her jaw was clenched so tightly against the tears that it
hurt. She left Brysold’s office without disgracing herself further,
and stumbled blindly home.

Five days had
passed since her encounter with Lady Glostrum. She had not had the
courage to return to her ladyship’s house and ask again for an
interview: after her break-in and capture, she was far too ashamed.
So she had taken to tailing some of Glour City’s other celebrated
figures. Many pictures crowded her image device, but she had
recorded nothing significant; nothing that every other paper in the
city hadn’t already reported on.

Now she didn’t
know what else to do. She had pursued every avenue that she could
bear to explore, and nothing had borne fruit. She was simply too
shy, too self-effacing, and - to be entirely honest about her
profession - too morally upstanding to excel at this line of work.
But where could she expect to find another job?

Lexi arrived
home feeling so low in spirits she scarcely knew what to do with
herself. She was ready to crawl into bed, pull the blankets over
her head, and sleep for a week. Maybe for eternity.

But lying on the
doormat was a letter. Picking it up, she was astonished to find a
deep red waxen seal holding the folded paper secure. Only the
highest echelons of society used seals in their correspondence. Who
could Lexi expect it to be from, save Lady Glostrum?

For an instant
she was frozen with fear. Perhaps her ladyship had changed her mind
and set the Investigative Office on Lexi, and this letter was
notification of it. Only, why would she then send a warning? Her
heart beating hard, Lexi clumsily ripped the letter
open.

For
the attention of Leximandra Greyne,

I
observe that a certain image has not been published in any paper or
periodical in the last few days. This can only mean that you have
kept it to yourself; otherwise I feel sure your employer would have
wasted no time in using it.

Thank you.

By
way of recompense I would like to give your paper the advantage of
announcing my engagement to the world, but this must necessarily be
left for the city’s central bulletin boards. Instead, I invite you
to attend my house again this evening at the nineteenth hour of the
day. Come prepared to record an interview.