A Pocket Full of Murder

  “I’m sure they don’t,” Quiz said. “Especially in this heat.”

  The wardrobe in the lounge! That must be where the masters hung their robes when they weren’t wearing them. “So,” Isaveth went on with growing excitement, “Buldage could have planted the charm and the exploding-tablet in Orien’s robe early that morning, or even the night before. That way he could set it off at the end of the day, once everyone else had gone.”

  “Yes, but he’d have to know Master Orien’s schedule down to the last minute and be watching his door like a gorehawk. He’d also have to make a show of leaving and then sneak back into the college somehow, so the porter wouldn’t know he was there. And how could he know that the last person to see Master Orien alive would be such a plausible suspect—someone who had access to exploding-tablets and an old grudge against him?” Quiz rubbed his chin. “I don’t know, Isaveth. It seems pretty unlikely to me.”

  “If you say so,” said Isaveth, a little stung, “but who else could have done it? Or would want to?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe if your sister gets this job, she can have a look at that appointment ledger and give us some names. . . . Oh, look, it’s our friend Loyal.” He lifted his hand in cheerful salute, and Loyal Kercher reddened and slunk back into the house.

  “You shouldn’t tease him,” Isaveth said, but she couldn’t help smiling. It was nice not to have to worry about Loyal’s bullying anymore, even if her other problems were so much bigger now. “Where’d you get the cycle, by the way?”

  Quiz glanced down at its rusty steering bar, as though he’d forgotten he was still pushing it. “Oh. Borrowed it from a message boy I know. He’s laid up with a broken leg, so I’ve been doing his work for him.”

  Which explained how he’d paid her tram fare that morning. “How long . . . ,” Isaveth began, but then the front door of Aunt Sal’s cottage banged open, and Mimmi came running out.

  “Where have you been? Aunt Sal’s getting frantic and I’m starving.” Then she caught sight of the pedalcycle and stopped, openmouthed with awe.

  Mimmi was no stranger to exaggeration, but Aunt Sal was no stranger to hysterics, either. Isaveth turned to Quiz. “I’ll only be a minute. Would you mind . . .”

  “Hop on board,” said Quiz, scooping Mimmi up in one arm and plunking her on the seat. “Feet on the pedals, hands on the bar, hold on tight, and go!” He took off running, while Mimmi squealed with delight. Conscious of Lilet’s silent, accusing presence on the doorstep, Isaveth pushed past her and went into the house.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said when she found her frizzy-haired aunt, who was banging about the kitchen in a way that showed she was very upset indeed. “I didn’t mean to be so late.”

  “Oh no, of course not.” Slam went the cupboard door. “At your age it doesn’t matter when you eat, or what you eat, or whether anyone else gets to eat at all.” Rattle-crash as she wrenched a drawer open and snatched up a long-handled spoon. “But I was raised with better manners than to leave two children hungry while the rest of us sit down to dinner, and it’s not fair to expect me to conjure more food out of nothing!”

  She thrust the spoon into her soup pot and began stirring with short, furious strokes, while Isaveth clenched her fists behind her back and tried to breathe through her anger. “I don’t expect you to feed my sisters,” she said when she trusted herself to speak. “I’m grateful you let them come here. I don’t know what we’d do without your help.”

  Never mind that Lilet and Mimmi kept Sal’s children busy all day, and gave her plenty of time to ignore her dirty house and lie about reading books like Magical Beauty Secrets and Your Future—Written in the Stars! The one time Isaveth’s mother had dared to point that out, Aunt Sal hadn’t talked to her for a month. “Please, Auntie. I promise I won’t let it happen again.”

  Sal sniffed. “It had better not. Bad enough your father’s in jail, though I warned Devra something like this would happen. I said, ‘Devra, a man who breaks rocks all day isn’t going to make daisy chains when he loses his temper,’ but oh no, she was in love, and nobody else would do—”

  “I have to go,” Isaveth cut in quickly. Jory was plodding down the stairs now, and he’d done what he usually did when no one was paying attention to him: taken off his short-pants and draped them over his head. “Thank you, Aunt Sal. We’ll see you tomorrow. Good night!”

  She rushed out, grabbing Lilet as she went, and stormed down the steps to the street. How dare Sal talk about Papa that way! Who gave her the right—

  “Ow!” Lilet swatted her hand. “You’re hurting me!”

  Flustered, Isaveth let go. “I’m sorry. I just . . .”

  “I know,” said Lilet, and for the first time in months the two girls shared a look of perfect sympathy. Then Lilet’s face soured and she said, “Of course Mimmi would get a ride.”

  Isaveth followed her gaze to the corner, where Quiz was showing Mimmi how to pedal. He’d perched his flat cap on her head, and she looked like a duck treading water.

  “It’s all right,” Isaveth said. “You can have a turn when she’s finished.”

  * * *

  “You’ll stay for supper tonight,” Isaveth told Quiz as she came out of the house, wiping her hands on her apron. He was sitting on the front step with Mimmi, watching Lilet pedal determinedly up the street. “It’s only soup, but there’s plenty to go around.”

  Mind, what was going around was mostly onions and water. But she refused to be like Aunt Sal, too stingy to feed anyone but her own family. “Mimmi, run inside and set the table.”

  “But Anna’s not home yet.”

  “I know, but she will be soon. Go.”

  Quiz got up, furrowing his dirt-smudged brow. “Are you sure? You don’t have to, you know. I can manage.”

  “Of course I’m sure. You want to know if Annagail got the job at the college, don’t you? Besides,” Isaveth added with a half smile, “if I can’t pay you, I can at least feed you.”

  She’d thought the joke would put him at ease. But when Quiz’s shoulders hunched and his gaze dropped to his shoes, it was clear she’d only made him feel even more awkward. “All right,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”

  Lilet came rattling back toward them and nearly fell off the cycle. Quiz leaped out and grabbed the bars as she climbed down. “I want one,” she announced. “When I grow up, I’m going to buy a pedalcycle and ride it everywhere.”

  “How are you going to do that living on a farm?” Isaveth asked, and Lilet huffed and marched toward the house. But when she reached the door, she turned back.

  “Thank you,” she said to Quiz, her voice low but distinct. “That was very nice of you.”

  “I think you’ve won her over,” Isaveth said when her sister had vanished inside. “You’ll have to teach me that trick sometime.”

  “You don’t think she likes you?” asked Quiz, propping the cycle against the house. “I’d say she admires you more than anyone.”

  Isaveth chortled, but the tall boy didn’t join her. His expression had turned inward, his good eye dark with some emotion she couldn’t name.

  “Soup’s ready,” she said at last, to break the uncomfortable silence. She went inside, and Quiz followed her.

  “If Anna’s not here, can I say the blessing?” asked Mimmi, bouncing up as they entered the kitchen. “Look, I’ve got a scarf.”

  She had, too—their mother’s second-best prayer veil, gauzy white with blue stars and silver crescents around the hem. Embarrassed, Isaveth snatched it from Mimmi’s hand.

  “You shouldn’t be poking around in Papa’s room,” she said. “And no, you can’t. We’ve got a guest tonight.”

  Mimmi went to Lilet, sniffing, and hid her face in her shoulder. “Sillyhead,” Lilet whispered, but she didn’t push her away.

  “I don’t mind,” said Quiz mildly. “I’ve never heard a Moshite blessing before.”

  “I suppose you’re Unifying?” said Isaveth, but Quiz only shrugged.

  ?
??Oh, I don’t bother about these things. I’m just interested. Why do people make such a fuss about Moshites, anyway?”

  To Isaveth’s surprise, Lilet answered. “Because we wouldn’t join the Unifying Church when everybody else did.”

  “They think we’re fantastic,” added Mimmi thickly, and Quiz looked blank until Lilet corrected her: “Fanatics.”

  Carefully Isaveth removed the red Fastday candles from the table, suppressing the twinge of guilt as she put them back in the hallow cabinet unlit. They’d never eaten without a blessing before, but she didn’t feel comfortable veiling herself in front of Quiz. “Please sit,” she said.

  Quiz had gulped down his bowl of soup, and Isaveth was about to ask if he’d like another, when the front door creaked. She stood up, her chest tightening with hope and dread. “Annagail?”

  Anna took off her hat and gloves and came into the kitchen. She looked dazed, her cheeks flushed and her eyes fever-bright.

  “Meggery likes me,” she said. “I’ve got the job.”

  * * *

  “So that’s settled,” said Quiz as he and Isaveth stood outside. The evening sky was the deep blue-black of a master’s robe, lit by a low silver moon. “All we have to do now is ask Annagail to look at the governor’s appointment ledger for us and write down the names of everyone who saw him that day. Do you think she will?”

  “I’m sure of it,” said Isaveth, smiling. It cheered her enormously to have that problem solved, even if it was only a small step toward proving her father’s innocence. And now that she’d got the job at the college, Annagail seemed happy too. A good cleaning maid was expected to be invisible to her employers, so she’d have to work early in the morning or late into the evening, or both. But no matter what shifts Meggery gave her, it would still be fewer hours and better pay than she’d ever had at the shirt factory.

  Isaveth was quiet a moment, listening to the distant thumping and grinding of the factories, and the purr of a night-dove perched on the Caverlys’ roof. Then she said, “Tomorrow’s Templeday.”

  “So Anna can’t get into the office until next week. I know, but I don’t see what else we can do.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about that.” Isaveth scuffed her shoe across the step. “I was thinking about going to see Papa. On Mendday morning.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  He sounded blank, as though he’d forgotten her father existed. Maybe because he wished he could forget his own?

  “Anyway,” Isaveth went on, refusing to be daunted, “it’s a long way to walk, and . . . I wondered if I might borrow your cycle.”

  Quiz sucked air between his teeth. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said. “If anything happened to it—or you—I’d never forgive myself. And my friend the message boy wouldn’t be too happy either.”

  Isaveth deflated. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “It’s all right, though. I was about to ask if . . . ” His head snapped up like a hound catching a scent. “Did you hear that?”

  Isaveth listened but heard nothing out of the ordinary. She was about to ask Quiz what he meant when the faint, familiar music reached her ears at last.

  “Auradia! ” she whispered in delight. “But where is it coming from?”

  “Believe it or not,” said Quiz, “I think it’s our old friend Loyal’s house.”

  “That’s impossible. The Kerchers are on relief—they couldn’t possibly afford a crystal set.”

  “Are you sure? Keep listening.”

  He was right: It was coming from the Kerchers’ cottage. Perhaps Merit had sent some money home from his work on the Vesperia railway, and this was how his parents had spent it?

  Quiz nudged Isaveth and offered his arm. “An open window is an open invitation, as the burglar said to the justice. Shall we?”

  Chapter Twelve

  “GET OUT!” raged a hoarse female voice from the Kerchers’ top-floor window. “Out of my yard, and don’t come back! Loyal, you get that filthy peeper and make him sorry—”

  “Go!” hissed Quiz, and Isaveth shinned down the tree so fast she ripped her skirt. She’d barely touched ground when Quiz jumped down beside her, seized her hand, and dashed off.

  “I can’t,” Isaveth panted, weak with terror and hilarity. “Can’t keep up—Quiz!”

  Without breaking stride, Quiz snatched her up off the ground, hefted her in his arms, and sprinted around the corner to Aunt Sal’s. He practically threw Isaveth over the fence, then tumbled after her, and the two of them landed with a thump in the weedy tangle of Sal’s garden.

  An instant later the Kerchers’ door slammed open. “Bruiser!” shouted Loyal. “Get up, you lazy—”

  The dog yelped, and Isaveth winced in sympathy. It wasn’t the poor, half-starved creature’s fault that he’d gobbled up the sleep-tablet Quiz had tossed him, and ended up snoring as they tiptoed by. And it wasn’t Quiz’s fault that he’d snapped a dead branch when he tried to get closer to the window, either.

  Still, the look on Missus Kercher’s face! Isaveth put her hands over her mouth, stifling a giggle. “Peeper,” she choked out, and Quiz gave a snort of laughter. They sat with their backs to the fence, quaking silently.

  “Find him, Bruiser!” Loyal snapped at the dog. “Go on, hunt him down!”

  “Can he?” whispered Isaveth, but Quiz shook his head.

  “Not while he’s dozy. And it’ll be a good half hour before the magic wears off.”

  They must have been strong sleep-tablets, then. “Where did you get them?”

  “Lifted them off a sneak thief.” Quiz wiggled his fingers. “In the spirit of fair play, so to speak. . . . Now let’s see what Loyal’s up to.” He half rose, peering through the slats of the fence, and peered out into the night. “Good. He’s gone off in the wrong direction.”

  “Did she get a good look at you? Missus Kercher, I mean?”

  “Well, even if she didn’t, the patch tends to stick in people’s minds. But don’t worry.” He flashed her a grin. “I doubt she’ll call the Keepers on me.”

  Isaveth hadn’t even considered that, since only a few houses on Cabbage Street had a call-box, and the Kerchers’ wasn’t one of them. But if Missus Kercher described the “peeper” she’d seen to her son, it wouldn’t be hard for Loyal to guess who’d been up in that tree. . . .

  And with that, what had seemed like a wild lark only a minute ago no longer felt like any fun to Isaveth at all. It was well and fine for Quiz: He didn’t live here. But if Loyal decided to take his grudge against the street-boy out on Isaveth and her family, there’d be nothing she could do to stop him.

  “But what a story!” Quiz went on, oblivious. “Did you ever think you’d see Peacemaker Otsik and Wil Avenham working together? I only wish we’d caught the last few minutes. . . .” He stopped. “Isaveth?”

  Isaveth hugged her knees, queasiness churning inside her. She’d been so pleased with herself for finding Annagail a job, and so eager to hear Auradia, that for a few reckless minutes she’d forgotten what really mattered. But this wasn’t some grand adventure, even if Quiz had a way of making it feel like one. How could it be, with her papa’s freedom and maybe even his life at stake?

  “I shouldn’t have come with you,” she said thickly. “It was stupid. And selfish. I ought to go home.”

  She started to get up, but Quiz put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t let Loyal frighten you. He may look tough, but he’s a coward inside.”

  “It’s not Loyal.” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “It’s Papa, and—oh, never mind.”

  Quiz sat back on his heels, and for a long moment he was silent. Then he said quietly, “You don’t have to be sad all the time, you know. It doesn’t make anything better.”

  How would you know? Isaveth almost retorted, but then she remembered the patch and held her tongue.

  “I just hate that I can’t do more for him,” she said at last, tearing up a spikeweed and flinging it away. ??
?I hate that he’s locked up in a cell right now, when he should be home with us.”

  Quiz nodded soberly and settled next to her again. “That reminds me. I was going to say it before, but then Auradia came on and I forgot. I can’t lend you the cycle to go and see your father. But I’d be glad to give you a ride.” He glanced at her sidelong. “If you don’t mind company.”

  “Mind? No. I only . . . I didn’t think you’d want to go.”

  “Because I’m likely to end up in jail myself, you mean? Just punishment for my peeping ways?”

  Isaveth sputtered.

  “I shall never repent,” continued Quiz, thumping a fist against his heart. “I would climb the Kerchers’ sourapple a thousand times for one glimpse of that divine vision—”

  “Of Missus Kercher with her hair in curlpapers?”

  “And her robe of snowy white with the egg stain on the lapel. Messy eaters all around, the Kercher family.”

  The monstrous unfairness of the Kerchers having eggs for dinner, especially after Loyal had smashed all of hers, left Isaveth speechless. But if they could afford a crystal set, why not eggs as well? She supposed she ought to be happy for Merit; he’d always been the best of that family, and he must be doing all right in Vesperia if he could afford to send money home. Still, it was hard to feel anything but bitter about her neighbors’ sudden good fortune.

  “My love is true!” declared Quiz, leaping up and flinging out his arms theatrically. “Yet I must depart, but verily I shall return—”

  Isaveth grabbed the back of his belt and yanked so hard he staggered. “Shh! She’ll hear you!”

  “Missus Kercher? Surely not.”

  “No, you neevil-wit, my aunt Sal.” Uncle Brom would be home by now as well, but they didn’t need to worry about him: Ten years of metalworking had left him mostly deaf anyway.

  “Oh. Right.” Quiz sank down, chastened. “Sorry.”