Nathan Wolf asked, “Does it have to be something that belonged to the villain? We do have the dead girl.”
“That might work,” Babeltausque conceded, irked that it had taken a layman to suggest what should have been obvious to him.
So far working the neighborhood had produced only rumors, ugly stories, and malicious finger-pointing. Few local girls reached their wedding days untouched by family or neighbors. People considered it part of growing up.
But nobody sanctioned what had been done to Phyletia Plens. They pretended to cooperate, speculated freely, and strained muscles in their eagerness to point fingers.
The butcher was a magnet. Neighbors wondered if he had not killed Haida Heltkler and blended her into his sausages.
Still fighting that cough, Josiah Gales said, “We could put Black to the question. That would get to the facts.”
Inger said, “Do arrest him. What is all that noise?”
A grand racket had developed elsewhere in the castle.
“A mob?” Babeltausque asked, suddenly frightened. Wasn’t it too soon for that kind of trouble?
Inger said, “Nathan, find out what’s happening. And bring the doctor when you come back.”
As the door closed, Babeltausque said, “Black isn’t our killer but he does know something about the girls who lived in his house.”
Possibly. One girl later murdered and another now missing. Significantly, though, the other victims and missing girls had lived within a short distance of Black’s shop.
Inger said, “I want the doctor because I have a notion worse than running girls through a meat grinder. Which, you’ll recall, did not happen to Phyletia Plens. What we do have is the monster’s seed that he spilled into Phyletia. Babeltausque, you and the doctor will…”
The door opened. A man stepped inside.
Inger finally exhaled. “Varthlokkur!”
“I am not happy to be here. My wife insists that I help stop what’s been happening.”
Babeltausque withstood the wizard’s stare. “It isn’t me.”
“True. But you do know what became of one missing girl.”
Babeltausque inclined his head. “She isn’t missing. She’s hiding.”
Oh, he hated to confess. He did not want to suffer the disapprobation he would face now. But he would not grant the wizard a blackmail hold.
“I see. Consensual.”
“Entirely.”
The wizard surveyed the others. “One disappearance solved already. Tell me about the others.”
Wolf and Wachtel arrived while Babeltausque was confessing. The doctor looked older than his incredible age. He was pale and grim. His hands trembled.
Wolf said, “I sent men to fetch Black. Meantime, we have a small mystery, brought to my attention while I was out. There, by the way, is the cause of the excitement.” He nodded at Varthlokkur.
“What is the mystery?”
“We have ghosts in the cemetery.”
“That seems the most likely place to find them.”
“Absolutely, but for the fact that nobody ever saw any until, a while back, a Siluro family squatting in Fiana’s mausoleum were evicted by ghosts who then vanished when the Unborn appeared.”
Everyone looked at Varthlokkur, who said, “I have no idea. Maybe I should go see. Now. I’ve heard from Her Majesty and my fellow wizard. Suppose you speak next, Colonel Gales?”
“Not much to tell. I was a prisoner. They turned me loose. I’ve been trying to regain my health. My experience doesn’t connect with the matter at hand.”
“The Heltkler girl was associated with your captors.”
Gales shrugged. “I never saw a girl. I saw one man. He brought food and made sure I didn’t try to get away. I was drugged most of the time. Those times when my head did clear I was too sick to act.”
“Nathan Wolf. I know little about you.”
Wolf shivered, told what he could. The wizard did not interrupt. He tolerated repetition of information already given. He was sniffing for previously undetected connections.
“Excellent. You are a skilled observer. Is it possible that the Heltkler girl disappeared into the same fog as the men who kidnapped Colonel Gales?”
Babeltausque opened his mouth, then shut it. That possibility had not occurred to him. His hungers, fears, and preconceptions, fueled by the hysteria stirred by Phyletia’s dark fate, had shoved political possibilities right out of his head.
He was not alone.
Josiah Gales gave up a cough that was a small confession of embarrassment.
Babeltausque said, “So. A plausible explanation for what happened to another girl. Does that take the load off Arnulf Black? She might have run to escape him instead of us.”
Varthlokkur faced Wachtel. “Doctor? You have something?”
The old man shook. “I won’t be doing surgery much longer.”
Varthlokkur told him, “These people all know your secret. For my part, I don’t care what made you become political.”
“My physician’s oath. These invaders only mean to use the people of Kavelin like farm animals.”
“As may be, we have children to save. We have a monster to identify. Can you contribute to that cause?”
Wachtel talked about girls found dead in the past.
“Might there have been others?”
“Almost certainly.”
Nathan Wolf suggested, “There could have been dozens. Girls go missing all the time. Most run away. The ones we know about are the ones whose bodies were found.”
Varthlokkur said, “Youth sells. There are those who exploit that. With Her Majesty’s permission I’d like to interview people who operate houses of prostitution. Those who get stubborn can answer to Radeachar. Doctor. You still have Phyletia Plens?”
“I do. Preserved in collaboration with the sorcerer. I was sure we would get back to her eventually.”
“Excellent. You and I will examine her now. Babeltausque, please join us. I’ll need to see where she was found after I examine her remains.”
…
Word swept the city. Varthlokkur had returned. He was hunting a childkiller. Once he interviewed them Vorgreberg’s pimps and procurers stopped employing talents under fourteen. It took only one visit from the Unborn to drive the message home.
That monster became a permanent aerial phenomenon. Vorgrebergers were six parts terrified and the rest of a dozen thrilled. Every vanished daughter for thirty years past was one villain’s fault, suddenly. Tavern speculation concentrated on what might be the ugliest possible means of dealing with the beast.
There were no votes for quick or kind.
Inger told Josiah Gales, “We’re riding high today. If we found that money now we could really cash in.”
Gales was tired of hearing about a treasure he no longer believed existed. “Ask Varthlokkur to find it.”
“I did. He chuckled and said it will be no help if we do find it.”
…
A sense of unease descended on Sedlmayr, fed by the news that Varthlokkur had returned to Vorgreberg. The truth, that he had come to hunt a foul murderer, was disbelieved by many.
The road east filled with agents determined to learn the real story…
Babeltausque shuffled slowly along to see his Carrie Depar. No special hunger drove him. Something was wrong with him. He ought not to be tired of Carrie so soon, yet his infatuation had begun to fade. Because everyone disapproved? Why? She was damned near legal. Certainly older than he preferred.
Could it be fear? The mob would not stop to listen if he tried to explain that Carrie was with him by choice.
He knew that no one really listened even at the best of times. No one wanted to be reminded that they had failings of their own.
It was dark. A sliver of autumn moon drifted toward the western horizon. The air was brisk but not yet outright cold.
Something burred past Babeltausque. He thought it must be a big bug, yet experience made him dive into the ditch beside the road. That bug had to be a sling bullet.