The Stranger - Max Frei [154]
“That’s impossible. Yesterday at noon he was stomping around over there.”
“That’s right, stomping around. Life, you know, is a complicated matter. It’s only in your homeland where everything is simple and straightforward: either there is horse dung, or there isn’t.”
I made a frightening grimace. Quick as lightning Melifaro hid under the desk, where he continued his story in the trembling voice of a scared little boy.
“Not in the Chancellory, not on the stairway, not by the entrance. There isn’t a trace of Boboota anywhere! Rather, the traces are everywhere, but they’re very old. Twelve days at least. They don’t count. Mr. Vampire, you’re not mad anymore, are you?”
Instead of answering, I laughed like a maniac, not so much at Melifaro’s antics as at the news. And what news!
“The entire City Police Force is looking for Boboota.” Melifaro went on. “If they don’t find him by sunset, they’ll hand over the official case to us.”
“Does Juffin know?”
“He certainly does.”
“Is he happy?”
“You bet he is. He’ll arrive here at sundown to start the investigation. Maybe he had a hand in the disappearance himself?”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” I smiled. “Are you planning to stay under the desk until he gets here? What about the Main Archive?”
“You promise you won’t spit?”
“I might. The only thing that will save you is sheltering under the wing of a buriwok.”
“Fair enough.” Melifaro dashed out from under the desk, finished his kamra in a gulp, and disappeared into the corridor, waving goodbye.
Then I was alone. I sent a call to Tanita.
I’ll come in a quarter of an hour, Sir Max, she replied. You know, the advice you gave me—well, everything was just as you said. I didn’t lose my mind. I even slept for a few hours. Thank you.
I ordered the junior staff to straighten up the office, and then sent a call to the Glutton. If I had to turn poor Lady Tanita inside out for information, let her at least eat something. It was unlikely that anyone but me would be able to persuade her to take some breakfast. I wasn’t even certain I’d be able to, but I’d have to try.
Lady Tanita Kovareka arrived within fifteen minutes, as promised. She had managed to change her clothes, and she looked the picture of elegance. Here in Echo, they don’t have the custom of dressing in mourning. It is thought that each person’s pain is a private matter, and broadcasting your loss to passersby on the street is uncouth.
“Good day, Sir Max,” she greeted me, not without a trace of sarcasm. She had the courage to acknowledge the bitter irony of the traditional form of greeting. Lady Tanita rose even higher in my estimation.
“You know why I called you. I have to find out what your husband had been doing, especially in the recent past. I know it’s painful to talk about, but—”
“I completely understand, Sir Max. Things like that don’t just happen out of the blue. Of course you have to find out who . . . But I’m afraid I won’t be of any help here.”
“I know what you’re trying to say. There was none of that. It always seems that nothing was amiss until a misfortune befalls someone. Then it becomes clear that a few completely insignificant actions were the first steps along the path to calamity.”
I had devoured enough detective novels in my time to be able to resort to this commonplace. I just hoped that the authors of the books knew a bit about life.
“All right, Sir Max. I can still only tell you one thing, though. Our life was passing just as usual—”
“Right, Lady Tanita. But you understand—I’m an outsider. I don’t know how your life usually passes. So explain it in a bit more detail.”
“Of course. Every day Karry got up before daybreak and went to the market. We have plenty of servants, but he preferred to select all the meat and produce himself. Karry is—was—a very good cook. For him this was not just a way of making a living, but something more—an art—a matter of honor and love, you might say. When I woke up, he was almost always at the helm in the kitchen. We opened two hours before midday, sometimes earlier, if there were customers who requested