Witches Incorporated (49 page)

“
Help
me?” said Errol, and wrestled for self-control. “Fine. Then you can answer some questions.”

“Sure. If I can.”

“What is this place?” Errol demanded, looking around the cold, unfriendly room. “What am I doing here? What are
you
doing here? That man—
Dalby
, is it?—he said there were one or two things about the lab accident that needed clearing up—and then he took me to see some
doctor
. Said it was a new DoT policy. Except—” He shook his head, dazed. “There wasn’t any lab accident. You—you faked that. So is this about Haf? About him sabotaging Ottosland’s portal network?” Errol leaned across the table, the closest to desperate that Gerald had ever seen him. “Because I had
nothing
to do with that! You were there at the boot factory, Dunwoody, God knows how or why. Didn’t you hear what I told Haf, didn’t you hear me—”

“Yes, Errol, I heard,” he said quietly. “We know you weren’t working with Haf Rottlezinder.”

Errol sat back. “Good. That’s good,” he said un-steadily. “Then I can go.”

“Not quite yet,” he said. “There’s something else we need to discuss. But before we do… I have to tell you, Errol, I am curious about something.”

“As if I had the slightest interest in you or your curiosity,” said Errol, sneering. His confidence was seeping back. In his eyes a familiar, icy glitter of dislike. “Get out of here, Dunwoody. I’ve nothing to say to you.”

Oh, Errol. How can you be such a brilliant wizard and such a fool?

“Come on, Errol,” he said, and rested his clasped hands on the table. “Indulge me, just this once. After all, I did save your life. Go on. What can it hurt?”

Errol blew out a hard breath and waved his hand. “Fine. Ask what you like. But that doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

As invitations went, it was hardly gracious—but given that this was Errol Haythwaite, he’d take what he could get. “Okay. So here’s the thing that has me puzzled, Errol. After Rottlezinder first approached you, why didn’t you tell the Department of Thaumaturgy?”

“Tell them what?” said Errol, scathing. “That an old friend contacted me out of the blue and asked if I’d like to work with him on a lucrative project?”

He frowned. “That’s all he said? He didn’t tell you what the project was? Where the money was coming from?”

“No.”

“And you didn’t ask?”

“I wasn’t interested.”

“And why was that, Errol?” he asked quietly. “Because you knew there was a good chance that if Haf was involved the project would be… questionable?”

Errol glared at the table. “This is ridiculous.”

“All right,” he said. “I accept that Haf played his cards close to his chest. I accept that on the face of it there was no reason for you to alert the authorities. Not in the beginning. But Errol… after that first portal accident, and knowing the kind of man Rottlezinder was, you must’ve realised there was a connection. Or at least
suspected
—but still you kept quiet. And because you kept quiet, scores more people were hurt. For what? So you could protect your precious career? Are you really that shallow, Errol?”

Errol’s pale, bruised face flushed a dull red. “Watch your mouth, Dunwoody. I don’t take that kind of cheek from tailor’s brats.”

“Don’t say things like that, Errol,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m the only friend you’ve got in this place.”

“Ha!” said Errol. “Then I really am in trouble, aren’t I?”

Oh, lord. “Errol, don’t you get it? You’re in so much hot water right now it’s a wonder you can’t feel the steam.”

Errol breathed hard, torn between contempt and uncertainty. Then he dropped his gaze and folded his arms. “Of course I knew something was wrong,” he muttered. “But he threatened me. When I turned him down. He threatened my family. He threatened my friends. He said if I knew what was good for me I’d pay no attention to the newspapers. He said if I didn’t want to spend the next six months attending funerals I’d mind my own business.”

“And you believed him?”

“
Yes
, I believed him!” said Errol, violently. “God, you’d have believed him too if—”

“If I’d shared a few youthful indiscretions with him?”

Stark silence, as Errol stared. “You know about that?” he said at last, dully, emptied abruptly of fire and fight. He shrugged. “Well, then.”

Sympathy flickered. Resenting it, Gerald frowned. “Errol, while it’s true you’ve been cleared of involvement in the portal sabotage, we have learned something else. Something very… disquieting. I wanted to know what you thought about it.”

“
You
wanted to—” Errol glared, his anger rekindling. “
You
?” Unfolding his arms, he shoved to his feet. “
You
aren’t fit to polish my shoes, Dunwoody. As far as I’m concerned this conversation is over. I’m leaving. And you can rest assured, you and—” His gaze swept the small room. “—whoever else is party to this charade, that Lord Attaby shall shortly be receiving a visit from my legal counsel. This has been nothing but a farrago of harassment, assault and intimidation. And if you think you can get away with it you are sorely mistaken. I shall take immense pleasure, Dunwoody, in seeing you broken in a very public Court of—”

“Sit down, Errol,” Gerald said softly. “We’re not finished here.”

“We most certainly are!” snapped Errol. “
You’re
finished, Dunnywood, you’re—”

“
I said sit down
!”

Errol gaped at him, stunned.

“Please, Errol,” he said. “Sit. Don’t make me make you.”

Errol sat jerkily, like a puppet with faulty strings.

“The Jandrians are building a fleet of military airships using your designs,” he said flatly. “Would you care to explain how that’s come about?”

“I’m sorry?” said Errol, after another long silence. His voice was faint. Uncertain. “I don’t—I don’t understand.”

He leaned forward across the table. “I think you do, Errol. You’re not deaf, or stupid. The Jandrian government has broken the armistice. The Jandrians are dreaming of war again. And you’re helping them. I don’t understand. Why would you do that? Betray your country, most likely to its death?”

“But I didn’t,” said Errol. “I would
never
—” He shook his head, stunned. “The Jandrians? You think I’d crawl into bed with
those
filthy scum? My God, they’re barely one rung up the ladder from
animals
.”

“Perhaps,” said Gerald, shrugging, and sat back. “But they’re wealthy, Errol. And you have expensive tastes. Perhaps you lied to Rottlezinder about not needing money. Perhaps your trust fund has run dry.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting from Errol, once the accusation of treason was made. Fury. Wild denials. Possibly even a physical or thaumaturgical attack. He was braced for all of that.

What he wasn’t prepared for was…
anguish
.

Errol leaned forward, his hands splayed flat and hard on the table. “No. No. You must believe me. On my wizard’s oath, I
did not do this
. I haven’t betrayed Ottosland to Jandria.” He swallowed convulsively, a terrible desperation in his eyes. “I swear it.”

“Then how do you explain copies of your airship designs being found there?”

A bead of sweat trickled down Errol’s blanched cheek. “I can’t. All my work is triple-warded and kept in my office at Wycliffe’s. I don’t let anybody touch it, not even Ambrose.”

He shrugged, feigning indifference. “Then like I said, Errol. You’re in very hot water.”

“Oh, God,” said Errol. It was almost a sob. “This can’t be happening.” On a gasp he pressed his hands flat to his face, then let them drop. “You have to help me, Gerald. Whatever you are, whatever freakish powers you possess,
use
them. Winnow my memories. Break my mind, if you have to. I don’t care.
I am not a traitor.
And I’m asking you… I’m
begging
you… help me to prove it.”

Sighing, Gerald stood up. Looked to the ceiling, where he suspected the scrying crystals were concealed. “Sir Alec? If you know anything about Errol, you know what asking that cost him. He’s telling the truth. You need to look for your traitor somewhere else. And now, if you don’t mind, it’s been a long night. I’m going home.”

And he walked out, closing the interrogation room door very gently behind him.

But the idea of returning to his rented bedsit, which was hardly better than that horrible attic room in the Wizards’ Club, depressed him beyond bearing. Besides. After everything that had happened… he didn’t want to be alone.

Monk answered his front door wearing the harassed, distracted expression that meant he’d just been talking to his sister.

“
Gerald
? Blimey, you look like death dragged backwards,” he said. “Come on in. Amuse yourself for a moment, I’m on the telephone with Bibbie.”

As Monk muttered his way down the corridor, Gerald pushed the front door closed behind him and heaved a deep sigh. Lord, he was so
tired
. He was also, technically, in possession of stolen property, having ridden his pilfered, souped-up Wycliffe scooter straight here from Nettleworth. He’d have to take it back to the airship company sooner or later, but now all he could think about was sitting down before he fell down.

Monk’s voice drifted into the corridor from the parlour. “—was Gerald.—Yes, he just got here.—No, I don’t know what’s going on. Didn’t I say he just got here?
Blimey
.—Well yes, I think you
should
come round right away. I want my jalopy back.—No, I
didn’t
say you could keep it indefinitely, I said you could borrow it for one night and—Bibbie.
Bibbie
. Bibbie, I
swear
, if you don’t bring my jalopy back I will tell the folks about the time you and Tiffany Mc-Sweeney—yes, I do know what you did.—It doesn’t matter
how
I know. I
know
.—Yes. Good. I’ll see you soon.”

Gerald leaned against the parlour’s open doorway, frowning muzzily. “Everything all right?”

Monk stopped glaring at the telephone. “Sisters! You can’t say no to ’em and you can’t kill ’em. Doesn’t leave much else, does it?”

“I’ll take your word on that.”

“She’s bringing my car back,” said Monk. “And it goes without saying she’ll have Mel and Reg with her. Are you feeling strong enough to face them? Or would you rather escape while there’s still time?”

He managed a smile. “I’d love to, but after what happened last night I need to talk to them.”

Monk paled. “Why? What happened last night?”

“I ran into them while they were gallivanting about South Ott.”

Monk stared. “
What
? They were gallivanting
where
?”

“In South Ott. In the old factory district. I can’t
believe
you let them go there, Monk. It’s a dreadful part of town!”

“Hey, it’s not
my
fault!” Monk protested. “I had no idea where they were headed!”

Unbelievable. “You mean you lent those three maniacs your jalopy and you didn’t know what they had in mind? What the hell is
wrong
with you, Monk?”

“Well—well—I tried to stop them,” Monk said feebly. “But you know what women are like. You know what
those
three are like, especially.”

“Yes! They’re maniacs!” he retorted. “And they nearly ended up getting themselves blown to bits. All because you lent them your jalopy, you
idiot
.”

“Blown to bits?” Monk said, his voice faint with horror. “What are you talking about, blown to bits?”

“You haven’t listened to the wireless this morning?”

“Come on, Gerald. You know I never listen to the wireless.”

There seemed little point now in slavishly following Department protocols. That boat had not only sailed, it had sunk. “I suppose Reg will have already told the girls,” he sighed. “So. An abandoned boot factory blew up in South Ott last night.”

Monk stared at him, lips twitching. “Don’t tell me. Let me guess. Son of Stuttley’s?”

He raised a warning finger. “Don’t. Just
don’t
, all right? Not this morning, Markham. I’m not in the mood.”

“Yeah,” said Monk, sobering, and looked him up and down. “Yeah, I can see that. Maybe you’d better sit down, mate, before you fall down.”

“Funny. I was just thinking the same thing.” He weaved his way across the parlour’s dingy, thread-bare carpet and collapsed onto the two-seater sofa. “Monk, I could murder a cup of tea. And some toast. And some scrambled eggs.”

“And after that sleep for a week, it looks like,” Monk added. He held out his hand. “Here. Give me that staff and I’ll put it somewhere safe.”

Vaguely surprised, Gerald looked down at the gold-filigreed First Grade staff still clutched in his right hand. “Oh. Yes. I forgot about this.”

“Right,” said Monk carefully. “Okay. So maybe you shouldn’t be making any sudden moves.” He grabbed the staff and lifted it out of the way. “Just… sit there. Don’t think about the girls, or my jalopy, or South Ott, or exploding factories. Think—think
happy
thoughts, Gerald. You can do it if you try, I know you can.”

He stared at his friend, bemused. “Monk, what are you going on about? I’m fine. I’m tired and starving, but aside from that I’m fine.”