The Stranger - Max Frei [192]
“Who’s my new friend? Shixola?”
“What a short memory you have,” said the chief and grinned. “Grand Magician Nuflin Moni Mak was kind enough to send me a call an hour ago. He says it’s urgent that we get to the bottom of this case. He has a terrible foreboding, and no clues whatsoever. Are you related to him, by any chance?”
“You should know,” I said, heaving a sigh. “You’re the one and only expert on my genealogy. Give me some kamra, Juffin. First I don’t get enough sleep, then I have to gaze on a corpse . . . life just all-round sucks.”
“What, the trick with the pillow didn’t work?” Juffin laughed out loud. “Well, win some, lose some. And make your own kamra. Why did I waste my time teaching you? And don’t grind your teeth like that, Sir Max. Kofa hasn’t tasted your culinary invention yet. Please.”
“You can’t fight the magic word,” I muttered, mollified. “What a despot you are, Sir Juffin.”
“Could be worse.”
I carried out the motions mechanically, but the results were the best ever! Even Sir Kofa didn’t turn up his nose at it.
A feeling of justified pride dispelled the forebodings that had taken hold of me since my visit to the morgue. I pulled a parcel of cigarette stubs out of the folds of my Mantle of Death. My senior colleagues frowned in distaste, but I couldn’t have cared less. If people are doomed to smoke some reeking muck that they mistakenly consider to be pipe tobacco, one can only pity them.
“In what country do they make those belts?” I asked. “You must know, Kofa.”
“Good question, Max. At this point, I don’t have the answer. That is, as far as I’ve been able to tell, they aren’t made anywhere. But that’s clearly insufficient information. Actually, I was just about to go to the Customs. Since we’ve decided to take the bull by the horns, we can’t get by without Nulli Karif. That’s his job, to be in the know about all our dear foreign visitors. That’s why I woke you up, so you’d keep me company.”
“Did you like it?”
“What, your company? How could I not have liked it? It was a barrel of fun. Especially your heroic struggle over the spoon!” Kofa burst into peals of laughter.
“Well, I have had about all I can take, Sir Kofa,” I exclaimed. “I’m abandoning you for General Boboota. You’re cruel, and he’s kind and good. We’re going to go to the can together, sit in stalls side by side, and tap on the walls.”
“Why tap on the walls?” My colleagues were now beside themselves with mirth.
“So we can understand each other without words,” I explained. “It’s a spiritual bond you two could never even dream of.”
“Let’s get going, genius,” Sir Kofa said. “I can’t promise you spiritual bonds, but I guarantee you won’t be bored.”
The Head of Customs of the Unified Kingdom, Sir Nulli Karif, was a remarkable character in all respects. Small, garrulous, and, I assumed, very young. Round glasses in thin frames completed the image of this delightful personage.
“Well, whom do we have here! Sir Kofa! And you must be Sir Max. Splendid! Has something happened? You don’t have to answer that. I understand. Otherwise you wouldn’t have dragged yourselves over here from the other side of town. How’s Melifaro? What’s the news about his older brother? Is that pirate going to descend on Echo any time soon? They say Melifaro fastened the Earring of Oxalla on Chemparkaroke with such a powerful spell that no one will ever be able to remove it, even someone in the Seven-Leaf Clover. So much has happened around here! Do you remember Kaffa Xani, Sir Kofa? Well, he’s not with us anymore. He rented a ship and set sail for Magicians know where. Splendid! Attaboy! Way to go! Have you killed a lot of people, Sir Max? I don’t doubt you have. Is that true about Chemparkaroke? Has something indeed