The Crimson Campaign

This close Adamat could smell the wine on Tinny’s breath. That hadn’t been there before. Was Tinny so terrified of the eunuch he’d gone to get a drink? Interesting. Of more interest was the way Tinny stood; a slight lean to his left, caused either by his left leg being shorter than the right or by favoring an injury to his right.

Adamat jerked his coat from Tinny’s grip.

“After you,” Tinny said.

“I insist.” Adamat waved his hand forward.

Tinny gave him a mocking bow and stepped into the hallway. Adamat watched his legs. A definite limp, favoring his right.

Adamat lashed out without warning, his boot connecting solidly with the side of Tinny’s right leg. Tinny folded sideways, his yell of surprise muffled by Adamat’s hand over his mouth. Adamat took most of his weight and lowered him to the floor, putting one hand firmly against his throat.

“Don’t threaten to kill a man unless you know without a doubt you’ll have the opportunity,” Adamat whispered. “Now, I’ve spent the entire summer with the most powerful people in all the Nine breathing down my neck. Do you think I care about one limping henchman? Do you think I have the time for you?

“I’m going to go talk to your master. If it goes badly, he’ll kill me, I have no doubt. But I promise, if they put me alone in a room with you, that it doesn’t matter how securely they bind me — I’ll get loose and I’ll kill you.”

Adamat released Tinny’s neck and mouth.

Different kinds of men responded differently to those with power over them. Some got angry. Some took it silently. Some were so terrified they’d believe anything you said, no matter how outlandish.

From the look in Tinny’s eyes, Adamat believed him to be the last of these.

Adamat made his way into the grand hall. His whole body ached from the night spent tied to a chair, and he worked to suppress his own limp. He passed a dozen men and women. Dressed unremarkably, just like Tinny. Probably messengers and the like.

Adamat had been in the lairs of perhaps half a dozen crime bosses in his life. Every one had either been an opulent palace or a scum-ridden den of iniquity. The Proprietor’s headquarters was so ordinary that it almost shocked him. It might have been the offices of some powerful but money-conscious nobleman, for all he could tell.

In the grand hall there were enforcers. Big men, scowling at everyone, pistols in their belts. They flanked the front windows and door. Adamat saw a woman he recognized, a whorehouse madame from the east side of Adopest who’d once told Adamat where to find a killer. She was dressed in her very best, and she sat on a bench beside the front door. She looked like a girl waiting to see the headmaster.

Someone gripped Adamat’s arm. He surprised himself by not leaping out of his skin, and turned to look up into the face of one of the big enforcers.

Before the man could speak, Adamat said, “I’m looking for the eunuch. He just sent me for a bath and I seem to have lost my handler. I’m to see the Proprietor now.”

The enforcer opened his mouth, then closed it. He scowled. Obviously not what he’d been expecting.

“Adamat,” a voice came.

The eunuch drifted across the grand hall and nodded to the enforcer. In the light of the day, Adamat could see that he was wearing a tailored brown suit with long coattails and an emerald cravat. The big man stepped away, and Adamat let himself be led down a side corridor by the eunuch.

“Where is Tinny?” the eunuch asked.

“He tripped. Fell down some stairs. I told him I’d find you myself.”

“Ah.” The eunuch didn’t seem like he would dispute Adamat’s story. “Well, if you’d step inside, the master will see you now.”

They’d stopped in front of a door at the side of the corridor. Nondescript. Unadorned. Adamat looked up and down the hall.

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

“You were expecting something else?” the eunuch asked. “Something more grand, perhaps?”

Adamat examined the plain trappings of the hall, caught sight of a woman with a bundle of papers in her arms, wearing a long, plain dress and looking so ordinary it hurt his brain.

“No, I suppose not.”

The eunuch rapped on the door.

“Come,” came the brisk order.

Adamat stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

The room was very well lit, much to Adamat’s surprise. It was a significantly sized office with fine wood paneling, high-arched windows, and a fireplace framed by ornate brickwork. Two well-worn chairs sat next to the fireplace, not far from the door. At the opposite end of the room was a wide desk, partially blocked by a screen. Adamat took note that, aside from the fine rug on the floor, there were no decorations.

Beside the desk sat a severe-looking woman with a sharp jawline and pronounced crow’s-feet in the corners of her eyes. Her posture was immaculate, her dress smoothed over her legs. A half-knitted scarf sat in her lap.

“Inspector Adamat?” the woman asked.

Adamat nodded, looking curiously at the screen. He could hear pen scratches from behind it.