“Assuming all the homunculi have a single mind,” said Tomb slowly, “the important question must be who is controlling them.”
“Well, Bode, I would assume,” said Rowan. “After all, the Dark Men are all versions of his own body. Perhaps he knew he was going to die, so he committed suicide and transferred his soul into one of the homunculi. That way he’d be free to continue with his mission. Whatever it is.”
“Suicide?” said Fisher. “The cause of death was a single stab wound through the heart! If it was suicide, what happened to the knife?”
“That’s a good point,” said Buchan. “But if it isn’t Bode, who is it?”
“Presumably the anonymous person who gave him his mission,” said Hawk. “Whoever it is didn’t want to be seen on the Street of Gods in person. Which suggests that somebody would have known him and recognised him.”
“Or her,” said Fisher. “Remember the girlfriend?. That could have been our unknown person, emerging briefly from the shadows to give Bode new orders.”
“This is getting complicated,” said Buchan. “If we assume the Dark Men aren’t really Bode, why are they still after Hawk and Fisher?”
“Because we’re dangerous,” said Hawk. “We’re getting closer to the truth, and the Dark Man knows it.”
“Wait a minute,” said Tomb. “We’re overlooking something important. Did I understand you to say that the sorcerer Bode was killed in his own house? Why didn’t his magic protect him?”
“Good question,” said Hawk. “We don’t know. When we got there, there was no trace of magic anywhere in the house; no wards, no booby traps, nothing.”
“That’s insane,” said Tomb flatly. “Even after his death, the protective wards should still have been there. They usually have to be dismantled by another sorcerer. Dammit, every sorcerer has wards of some kind; you can’t work without them.”
“All right,” said Hawk. “So it’s crazy. Doesn’t surprise me. The whole damn case is crazy.”
“But it is definitely looking more and more like one case,” said Fisher.
“It seems to me,” said Buchan, “that we’re not going to get anywhere until we can find out what Bode was doing here on the Street. That’s got to be the key to everything.”
“So it would seem,” said Tomb. “In which case, it’s fortunate I asked an acquaintance of mine to join us here this evening. I thought Hawk and Fisher ought to meet him. He’s very knowledgeable about the Street of Gods. It’s said that nothing happens on the Street that he doesn’t know about, often before it happens.”
“Oh, no,” said Buchan. “You haven’t. You haven’t called
him
in, have you? Not Lacey?”
“Dirty little sneak,” muttered Rowan.
“He serves a purpose,” said Tomb firmly. He turned to Hawk and Fisher and smiled, almost apologetically. “In order to do our job here on the Street, we have to be in constant touch with everything that’s going on. Given the nature of the Street of Gods, that can be rather difficult. Rowan and I both have the Sight, but there’s a limit to how much ground we can cover. So we are forced to depend on various reliable sources for our information.”
“Right,” said Buchan. “Half our budget goes on bribe money.”
“And most of that goes to Lacey,” said Rowan.
“He’s always proved most useful to us,” said Tomb. “He has his own organisation of informants and eavesdroppers. They bring him all the news, rumour, and gossip, and he puts it all together. He’s predicted more trends, business deals, heresies, and conspiracies than all our other sources put together.”
“He’s also a nasty, repellent little creep, and he makes my skin crawl,” said Rowan.
“We know the sort,” said Hawk. “We use informants in our line of work, too.”
“How much do you pay them?” asked Buchan.
Hawk grinned. “Isobel lets them live. They seem happy to settle for that.”
“Anyway,” said Tomb, “our man Lacey is waiting just down the hall. With your permission, I’ll have him join us.”
He looked around for objections, but no one said anything. Buchan clearly didn’t give a damn, and Rowan was sulking. Tomb gestured sharply with his left hand, and the drawing room door swung open on its own.
“Do come in, Lacey. There’s a good feHow!” said Tomb loudly.
There was a pause, and then a wide, fleshy figure appeared in the doorway, smiling ingratiatingly. He was better than average in height, but his great bulk made him look shorter. He moved slowly but with surprising grace, and something in the way he held himself suggested he was no stranger to violence, should it prove necessary. He had a round bland face, the main features of which were his small, dark eyes and constant smile. Fisher didn’t like the smile. It looked practised. His hair was dark and greasy, plastered flat and parted neatly down the middle. Just looking at him, you knew immediately that you could trust him completely, provided you kept up the payments, but that the moment you ran out of money he’d disappear in an instant. The smile got worse the more you saw of it; the insincerity of it grated on the nerves like fingernails on a blackboard. All in all, Lacey was the kind of man you didn’t want to shake hands with, in case some of his personality rubbed off on you.
“My dear Tomb, how nice to see you again. Looking well, as always. And your charming associates, Buchan and Rowan; two of my favourite people.” His voice sounded exactly the way you’d expect it to. Soft and breathy and thoroughly oily. The kind of sound a toad would make if it was trying to sell you a horse that nobody wanted. “Always happy to be of service to you, my friends. Now then, I see we have guests present; Captains of our illustrious city Guard, no less. Will you honour me with your names, sir and madam?”
“Captain Hawk and Captain Fisher,” said Hawk. “We’re here on official business.”
Something happened to Lacey’s face. He didn’t flinch and he didn’t stop smiling, but his eyes were suddenly cold and watchful. He looked very much as though he’d like to see how far it was to the door but didn’t quite dare look. Apparently even on the Street of Gods, people had heard of Hawk and Fisher.
“The renowned Captains Hawk and Fisher; an honour indeed to make your acquaintance. What can I do for you?”
“We need information,” said Rowan. “Not long ago, a sorcerer named Bode appeared on the Street, asking questions about the Gods. What can you tell us about him?”
Lacey smiled like a decrepit cherub, lowered himself into the one remaining chair, and laced his fingers across his vast stomach. “Bode. Yes, I know that name.” He paused a moment, to arrange his weight more comfortably, and the chair creaked loudly. He smiled about him pleasantly, and then began to speak without pause or hesitation, as though he’d only been waiting for permission to speak a piece he’d already prepared. For all Hawk knew, that might just be the case.
“Bode was a low-level sorcerer,” said Lacey. “Mainly interested in alchemy and the production of homunculi. An expensive interest, which he supported through his extensive knowledge of pills and potions. He was well known in his field, but was never going to be anyone important. He lacked the drive, and the determination. He knew this, but it didn’t seem to bother him. He was not, by all accounts, ambitious.
“He first appeared on the Street of Gods just over a month ago, asking questions about the powers and backgrounds of the Gods. Where they came from, what attributes they possessed, why people worshipped them—the usual tourist stuff. Unlike most tourists, however, Bode wasn’t prepared to settle for the usual answers. He kept digging for more and more details, refusing to be put off, even when it was made clear to him that some of his questions were not appreciated by the Beings involved. He just pressed even harder for answers, putting things together, despite several quite specific warnings. He was either very brave, very stupid, or lacking in any sense of self-preservation.
“He died quite recently, at his home in the Northside. Accounts of the manner of his death seem confused, but all the accounts agree that the good Captains Hawk and Fisher were somehow involved. As investigating officers.”
Lacey sat back in his chair, smiling serenely in a self-satisfied way. There was a long pause, as everyone digested the information he’d provided.
“Did anyone spot anything ... unusual, about Bode?” Hawk asked carefully.
“Well, apart from what I’ve already told you, there were a few interesting occurrences. Several times on the Street Bode was recognised by old friends, who went over to talk to him, as old friends do. It would appear that Bode was very short with them on these occasions. He wouldn’t discuss his business, or what he was doing on the Street, and on some occasions even pretended not to know them. All of which was most unlike Bode. Perhaps he thought he was acting undercover, so to speak, but he’d made no effort to disguise himself.”
“Did anyone ever see Bode looking ... different?” asked Fisher. “Larger, more muscular?”
Lacey looked at her sharply. “An interesting question, Captain. It is true that since Bode’s death previously reliable sources have reported seeing Bode walking the Street of Gods again, looking ... somehow different. Perhaps you can shed a little light on that, Captain?”
“Not right now,” said Fisher. “According to some reports, Bode sometimes met his girlfriend on the Street. Can you tell us anything about her?”
“Unfortunately I have been able to learn very little about her, Captain. She appeared on only three occasions, each time heavily muffled under a cloak and hood. On the last occasion two of my associates tried to get a close look at her. They both died, right there on the Street.”
Hawk leaned forward on his chair. “How did they die?”
“Natural causes, Captain. Heart attacks. Simultaneous heart attacks.”
“Sorcery,” said Fisher. Lacey inclined his head in agreement but said nothing.
“So,” said Rowan, “we have a sorcerer and a sorceress on the Street of Gods, asking questions about the Beings. Questions the Beings don’t want to answer. Perhaps that’s why the Beings died; because they wouldn’t answer the questions.”
“Or because they did,” said Buchan.
Fisher looked at him. “I’m not sure I follow that.”
“I’m not sure I do myself,” said Buchan. “What worries me is how the Beings died. You’d need a hell of a lot of power to overcome a Being on his own territory. You’d need a sorcerer the level of the High Warlock. And if someone like that was on the Street, we’d all know about it.”
“Let’s move away from Bode for a moment,” said Tomb. “Lacey, what is the situation on the Street at present? How are the Beings reacting to the murders?”
“Badly, my dear friend. There’s a great deal of unease in the Street, both inside and outside the temples. In their own way, the Beings are quite frightened. They all tend to paranoia at the best of times. Right now most of them are busy looking for an enemy they can blame everything on; someone to strike back at. Old rivalries are becoming more intense. Old hatreds are being fuelled afresh. Everyone knows you’re doing your best to find the killer, but the Gods aren’t known for their patience. I fear it’s only a matter of time before some God decides to take matters in its own hands and strikes the first blow. And we all know what that would lead to.”
“You’re talking about a God War,” said Tomb.
“Yes, I’m rather afraid I am. Unless something is done soon, something significant, things are going to get worse on the Street very quickly. As it is, we’re all waiting for the inevitable spark to set off a conflagration none of us can hope to put out.”
There was another long pause.
“I can’t help feeling we’re missing something,” said Buchan. “Something so close we can’t see the wood for the trees. Lacey, do you know of any connection between the three dead Beings?”
For the first time, Lacey looked a little uneasy, though his smile never wavered. “Well, there is one ... coincidence, my friends, but it may be nothing more than that... ”
“We’ll decide what’s important,” said Rowan sharply. “What is it?”
Lacey braced himself visibly. “Each of the dead Beings received a visit from the Deity Division, on official business, not long before their death.”
Hawk looked sharply at Tomb. “Is that right?”
“Well, yes. But we visit Beings all the time. It’s part of our job. We’ve visited so many Beings recently, I hadn’t even noticed the dead Beings were included.”
“But it is a connection,” said Fisher.
And then the voice of the Guard’s communications sorcerer boomed suddenly in Hawk and Fisher’s minds:
Riot on the Street of Gods! Riot on the Street of Gods! All available personnel report to the Street of Gods immediately. This command overrides all other orders and priorities until further notice.
Hawk and Fisher scrambled to their feet, their hands clawing instinctively for their weapons. The God Squad were on their feet too, looking equally shocked. They’d picked up the message, too. Lacey rose uncertainly to his feet.
“My friends, what is it? What has happened?”
“It seems your information came a little too late this time,” said Rowan. “Someone’s just fired the first shot in a God War.”