The Stranger - Max Frei [66]
“Sir Kamshi, but he’s not at the Ministry right now. Try to get in touch with Lieutenant Shixola. He occupies fourth place, and he also specializes in burglaries.”
“All right, I’ll be back in just a moment. Anyone who so much as touches my kamra will choke on it!” With that, Melifaro was gone.
His pace impressed me. If somebody wanted to make a movie about the great Investigator Sir Melifaro of Echo, they’d have to settle with filming a series of shorts.
“What’s this White List?” I asked Sir Kofa. He laughed heartily. Even Lady Melamori let out a giggle.
“Oh Max! That’s just a little game of ours. From time to time we make an objective list of a dozen of the brightest members of the Police Force. The ones we’d want to be involved with, should the need arise. In fact, they do have smart people working over there, but with bosses like Boboota and Foofloss the poor fellows will still end up a laughing stock. And making it onto our White List is a great honor for them. They swell with pride if they get listed. For them it’s even more important than Royal Gratitude, which Boboota is awarded once a year because of his rank. I see you’ve caught on!”
I’ll say! I couldn’t stop laughing, impressed with the clever idea of such a chart. “The Top Twelve” at the House by the Bridge! Extra, extra, read all about it! Get your copy of the new chart!
Even Lonli-Lockli livened up.
“The White List really helps bolster the work ethic over there, Sir Max,” he said in an edifying manner.
“Sir Shurf is one of the movers and shakers behind the List,” chuckled Juffin. “And here is our kamra!”
The jugs of kamra weren’t even visible from behind the mountain of treats that arrived from the Glutton. Melifaro reappeared instantly, as if led by his own nose, and he came bearing a pile of self-inscribing tablets. He leapt over the back and into his chair, and was the first to snatch a pastry and pop the whole thing into his mouth. He looked a bit like Kurush: rumpled, smeared with pastry cream, but very happy. He emptied his cup in one gulp and buried himself in a tablet. For a minute and a half—an eternity by his standards—he read, deep in concentration. Then he jumped up for another pastry, and began holding court with his mouth full. A few seconds later his speech became comprehensible for the rest of us.
“Ah-hah! Just as I thought! In every case a doll like that one was stolen. Besides a load of valuables, of course. But the main thing is that dolls feature in each and every list of stolen goods. Unbelievable! Darling, it seems I gave you a rotten apple. And not without reason! Slighted suitors are terrible in their fury. Now, where did I buy that thing? At some stall in Twilight Market. Well, no matter. I’ll turn the place upside down when I get there.”
“Hold on a minute,” said Sir Kofa. “Tell me, what kind of doll was it? What did your doll look like, Melamori?”
“It looked like a redheaded boy of around twenty years old. It looked almost like a real boy; just shorter. Very handsome face. And the hands were made so beautifully. I examined them closely. Long slender fingers—even the palms were lined. It was wearing some foreign attire made of expensive cloth. I can’t say I know where it was from. The garment began above waist length and flowed down to the floor. And it had a splendid collar, something like a short looxi. It was even a little bit warm, like a human. I was somewhat afraid of it. I put it in the parlor, although people usually keep gifts like that in their bedrooms.”
“Enough said, my girl! There is no need to go to Twilight Market, Melifaro. Eat, take your time. I’ll wager there’s only one craftsman in all of Echo who does that kind of work: Jubo Chebobargo, the man with the magic hands!” Kofa announced triumphantly.
“Sweet,” Juffin purred. “Now all three of you have something to do this evening. And Max and I will take Sir Shurf and go introduce ourselves to . . . Oh, what is it now! A hole in the heavens above you, boy!” This was addressed to a terrified courier who had blundered in to the room without even knocking.