The Stranger - Max Frei [99]
“What happened?” I inquired when the objects of my search were found. “What is this ‘sad news’ you wish to verify? Did someone finally rat on me? We’ll have to celebrate that.”
“I’ll explain everything to you, Sir Max, but please don’t be alarmed. Nothing untoward has happened, I assure you.”
“Judging from what you’ve just told me, you already know about my new position,” I remarked acidly. “To be honest, I wasn’t about to get alarmed. Whatever may have happened, the death penalty is not held in high repute here, and I just returned from Xolomi. I had a lovely stay there, I hasten to add . . .”
“Generally speaking, my main occupation is to verify the legitimacy of denunciations that make their way to the Royal Court. That really is true,” my guest admitted, somewhat abashed. “But I beg you, Sir Max, do not think that the King gave any credence to General Boboota Box’s memo. I’m here about another matter altogether.”
“Well, well, well! Our conversation has taken a much more interesting turn! Do me a favor, sir, and tell me what kind of memo that might have been. I haven’t been at the Ministry for three days. I was carrying out an investigation on the orders of the Venerable Head. What, according to General Box, was I up to?”
“I’m embarrassed even to mention such trifling matters to you, Sir Max. General Box found out that in your absence one of the junior staff members of the Ministry of Perfect Public Order visited your home and—”
“And fed my animals,” I nodded. “It’s the truth. He groomed them, too. What else are junior staff for?”
“I agree with you one hundred per cent, Sir Max. I’ll let you in on a secret: General Box always forgets that the Secret Investigative Force and his Police Force are very different organizations, that what is acceptable in his half of the House by the Bridge is not necessarily so in yours. Boboota Box has not seldom delivered denunciations about the behavior of the Venerable Head himself, not to mention your other colleagues.”
“And what exactly does Boboota object to?”
Kovista Giller broke into a shy smile.
“Well, he objects to everything. For instance, that Sir Kofa Yox doesn’t show up at work when he should be on duty, because he rarely leaves the tavern.”
“Well, yes,” I agreed. “That truly is bad form! He should just stay in his office, occasionally making a trip to the john to hear Boboota’s underlings rake him over the coals in secret. Instead, he haunts all the dives in town.”
My visitor nodded in satisfaction.
“The King even collects letters of denunciation about your department. He sticks them in a special album and illustrates them personally. He says he’s going to give the album to Sir Juffin Hully when the pages run out. That’s why His Majesty read General Box’s letter carefully before adding it to the others. The King was curious: why do you keep beasts at home, and what kind of pleasure do you derive from this?”
“See for yourself,” I smiled tenderly. “Look how beautiful my Armstrong and Ella are. And so smart!”
The instigators of social discord heard their names and clambered into my lap. I groaned under their bulk, which was nothing to joke about. The long, carefully groomed fur flowed down almost to the floor. Blue eyes peered out from fuzzy cheeks, and their plume-like tails tickled my nose. I had reason to be proud of them!
“If you only knew how sweet it is to sleep to the sound of their purring,” I murmured dreamily. “That, if you will permit me, is pure delight.”
“Where did you get them, Sir Max?” my guest asked.
To this very day I don’t know what made me tell a fib. I think I felt the cats would be hurt if I admitted to a complete stranger the secret of their plebeian origins.
“These cats are the direct descendants of wild cats of the Barren Lands and a mysterious, wild black beast that inhabits the land where the sun sets.”
I tried my best to imitate the speech of an exultant