The Stranger - Max Frei [53]
In an hour’s time I was fully dressed, but it was too early to go to work. I spent some time in the living room with a book on my lap. The view from the window no longer pleased me as it used to; but for some reason I didn’t dare turn my back on the scene.
Finally, I had to admit that it was no use. I put aside the third volume of Manga Melifaro’s Encyclopedia and went out into the street to get a closer look at the house opposite. I got out my brand new dagger and took a look at the gauge on its hilt. The building was innocent as a babe. There were traces of permitted second-degree black magic. Perhaps the owners were making kamra, or trying to remove oil spatterings, which they had every right to do.
But my heart was of a different opinion. “This is a foul place,” it thumped anxiously. That invaluable muscle had become a good advisor to me of late. I knew I should heed its judgment; but I wanted something entirely different. I wanted to calm down and go on living. I did my best.
You have to stop listening to scary stories before bedtime, my dear boy! I told myself breezily.
To distract myself, I took my new toy down the block, checking my neighbors’ observance of the Code of Krember as I went along. Judging by the gauge, they were law-abiding and singularly devoted to culinary experiments. Black magic of the second degree oozed out of almost all the windows. When after a time the needle began to careen dangerously between the permitted two and the highly undesirable three, I looked around. In front of me was a small tavern with the menacing name of The Sated Skeleton. The cook there must really love his work, I thought, and decided to stop in for breakfast. The Glutton Bunba is, of course, my all-time favorite; but I do like to try new things for a change.
Nightmares or not, I had a good appetite that called for more than my usual humble breakfast rations. At the table next to mine, two local women were discussing a certain Lady Alatan, who had been robbed while she was out shopping; and “those whelps taught her a good lesson!” In my thoughts, I gave my condolences to the hapless lady: I had already met the gentleman whose duty it was to protect her possessions. But even that didn’t spoil my appetite.
After breakfast I set off leisurely for work, tracing a concentric circle around the Old Town. There I spent all the money I had in my pocket on completely useless but charming housewares. Where I come from, it is believed that retail therapy can save housewives ground down by routine. I can bear witness to the fact that it also saves certain gallant members of the Secret Force from the vestiges of the previous night’s bad dreams.
Weighed down with packages, I arrived at the House by the Bridge only a half hour earlier than I was supposed to.
“Settling into your home, then, are you, O Policeman’s Blight?” asked Juffin, as he studied my packages. “You know, Max, Boboota thinks that because you yelled at him, you have the right to do so. He respects you. I believe he is also looking forward to strangling you. Good job, my boy. Tell me the truth, did you really think he was just a run-of-the-mill ruffian?”
“He was being a troublemaker! It’s inappropriate for government officials to act like that. I’ll have this place cleaned up in no time!” I made a scary face and then admitted, “I’ve always dreamed of being in a position of power,