The Stranger - Max Frei [197]
Juffin smiled dreamily, as though it were the most pleasant memory of his entire youth.
“So what have you done to him? Was it hypnosis?”
“I have no idea what you mean by ‘hypnosis.’ I just pacified him. Very effectively. Our captain has never been so tranquil, Magicians’ honor! Now we can take that ghastly tunic off him.”
As was to be expected, Captain Giatta’s black garment concealed a valuable belt, an exact replica of the one we had seen yesterday.
“This is a serious matter, of course,” Juffin smiled. “Kofa, Max, look closely at his unkempt clothes. Can you draw any conclusions, Max?”
“Well, it’s not easy to keep up your appearance on a long journey,” I surmised.
“Nonsense. The captain’s trousers and tunic are perfectly neat and tidy. No other ideas?”
“He just hasn’t taken his shirt off in a long time,” Sir Kofa said, taking pity on me. “That’s because—”
“Because he’s wearing the belt over the shirt!” It suddenly dawned on me. “It’s impossible to remove the belt, right? So that other guy in the morgue, he wasn’t a ragamuffin. He just couldn’t remove his belt and was forced to wear his old skaba for days and days.”
“Now you’re talking!” Juffin exclaimed. “By the way, about that fellow in the morgue—he hadn’t taken off his skaba for much longer than just several days. Perhaps a few years. That was plain to see. But the Old Maid sailed into Echo only eight days ago. You’ve got to get to the bottom of this, Kofa. Get in touch with Nulli Karif and ask him to dig around in the archives. You can occupy Melifaro’s office for the time being. I sent him to find out who the victim was. I have a feeling that it won’t be easy. Max and I will work on the poor captain. You can’t assist us there, anyway.”
“Juffin, what do I need with your mysteries? I have enough of my own to solve,” Sir Kofa said with a sly grin, and shut the door behind him.
“You sent him away, because—” I ventured cautiously.
“Yes, yes. Don’t ask foolish questions. Practicing True Magic in the presence of strangers—well, Sir Maba Kalox might be able to permit himself such luxuries, but I can’t. Nor can you. And without True Magic we’ll end up killing our brave captain. That would be unjust, for one thing. And for another, he can tell us a thing or two. For the time being, just watch me, Max; we never know how something will pan out when you’re involved. If you sense that you can help me in some way—be my guest. If not, don’t try to show off.”
Juffin sighed, rolled up his sleeves, and began tapping lightly and rhythmically with his fingertips—not on the mother-of-pearl belt, but in the air. His fingers stopped just fractions of an inch away from the belt. His movements were mesmerizing, and I seemed to doze off in spite of the obvious importance of what was transpiring.
I slept and I dreamed that I was Captain Giatta. I felt rotten, since I knew what was going to happen. This queer old fellow, the Honorable Head of something or other, wanted to help me. But I knew only too well that all he had to do was touch the Belt (in my own mind it had now become a belt with a capital B)—all he had to do was to touch it with the aim of taking it away, and I would die. And my death would be worse than death. It would be an infinitely long and tormenting demise.
“Juffin!” I cried, hardly able to get my tongue around the word, so drowsy was I. “Don’t do it! We’ll end up killing him, no matter how you go about it. It’s something I know.”
“You’re not the one who knows it, Max.” Juffin countered calmly. “It’s Captain Giatta who knows.