Tempt the Devil (The Devil of Ponong series #3) (19 page)

Nashruu stared at him. “You’re onto something.”

He knew where his investigation had to go now. His fingers
fumbled with the top button of his jacket.

“Whatever you’re doing, don’t you dare interfere with my
mission, Kyam. Grandfather will crush you.”

“Pardon me. Have to go.” He slipped past her, through the
door, and was running at full stride by the time he reached the courtyard.

Kyam
stepped around
Ponongese women caning the seats and backs of damaged chairs
on the veranda of the Red Happiness. Inside, several people on their hands and
knees were sanding the old finish from the floor. The smell of fresh paint was
strong. Another group was pasting the wallpaper’s curling corners to the
plaster. Even the brothel’s workers had been put to work on the banister and
stairs.

Inattra watched Kyam pick his way around the newly stained
patches on the floor from behind the bar. He plunged a glass into a bucket of
steaming, soapy water and wiped it with a rag before rinsing it in another
pail. “How can I help you, Governor Zul?”

“I have a few more questions.”

Inattra sighed heavily.

“I know
you’re busy, so I’ll be quick. Early this morning, Lady QuiTai was seen on the
veranda in a yellow dress in the newest continental style: a military style
jacket and a narrow skirt.”

“I’m
aware of the latest fashions in Rantuum.”

Kyam ignored the sour tone. “An hour later, she was at the
harbor in her traditional green sarong. Now, I know that she doesn’t tell
anyone where she sleeps, and she has many safe houses around Levapur, but she
didn’t have much time to change clothes, so she may have done it here. Does she
keep a room in the brothel?”

“No.”

Kyam scratched his brow. “You do realize that I’m trying
to help her, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

When had Ingosolians become so tight-lipped? An ugly idea
sprouted in his mind. What would happen to the brothel if QuiTai were to die?
She didn’t own it; Jezereet’s sibling did. But that sibling, Evoreet, had never
been to Levapur, as far as Kyam knew, so he’d probably let Inattra continue to
run the place.

“How much
more do you make as the Madam here than you did as a worker?” Kyam asked.

Inattra’s
freckles flushed a deeper shade of blue.

“I know
money is a sensitive topic,” Kyam said.

Inattra’s
short bark of laughter made him wince. As the scion of one of the richest
families on the continent and colonial Governor, those words took on a
completely different meaning when they came from him.

“QuiTai said I can still take customers even though I’m
the Madam, and sometimes I do, but not often. I don’t need to.”

QuiTai had a reputation for paying her people well, so
that didn’t surprise him. Still, for some people, no stack of coins would ever
be high enough. He tried to remember how many tables and chairs had been in the
bar before, and used that number to calculate what the bar might bring in. How
many rooms were upstairs, and how often were they used per night? Plus the take
from the liquor and drug sales… and maybe he was wrong, but that added up to a
tidy sum. Take away the average rent for a building this size and the worker’s
cut, and there was still quite a bit left over.

“This place mills coin faster than a mint, doesn’t it?” he
said.

Inattra seemed even more wary. “We do all right.”

“Have you
ever thought of opening your own place?”

Inattra
picked up another glass and dunked it into the suds. “It’s a big, bad world out
there, Governor. PhaJut’s brothel was robbed last month. His workers and
customers were roughed up by a gang of men. Thampurian men, but ones not often
seen in town.”

“From the plantations?”

“Two months ago, the Madam of the Pink Orchid was murdered
by a customer. Here, I enjoy QuiTai’s protection. No one in this town would be
stupid enough to bring that kind of violence under this roof. Other than the
damage the militia did here this morning, of course. I’m paid twice what the
Madams of the other brothels make, QuiTai doesn’t charge rent for my room, and
I don’t have an owner’s headaches. Ask anyone in the Quarter of Delights and
they’ll tell you my job is the best one in Levapur.” He rested his hands on the
edge of the bar. “But only a fool would want it.”

“Why is that?”

Inattra sighed again. “I’m exaggerating. It’s been a
difficult day.”

Kyam made a sympathetic noise.

Inattra licked his lips as he squinted at Kyam. After a
long moment, he seemed to have reached a decision. “QuiTai has standards that
no one else would demand from their workers. They aren’t impossible to meet,
and she rewards people who uphold them, but sometimes it’s a huge pain in my
ass. Most people don’t have any idea how meticulous she is. Some of the workers
here grumble about how I don’t do anything but flit around the room and chat
with our guests every night as if I’m at a party. They crawl into bed when the
last customer leaves; I’m still awake two hours later doing the books. They
rise after noon and have a leisurely breakfast while their rooms miraculously
clean themselves. The bar is always stocked, problem customers magically go
away, the jellylanterns never fade, and the floor is never sticky. Sometimes, I
think QuiTai is the only person who appreciates what I do.” His expression
hardened. “Some lazy little liar may think she can take my place, but I’m not
going anywhere, and if she does get me fired, she’s going to learn real fast
that it isn’t as easy as she thinks.”

Every
business had internal squabbles, Kyam supposed. The bickering in the government
building was deafening at times, so why should the Red Happiness be any
different? He didn’t have time for workplace gossip, though. There was a murder
to solve.

“About
QuiTai – if she doesn’t have a room here, where might she change clothes?”

Inattra
jerked his thumb toward the splintered door to QuiTai’s office. “She has a
wardrobe in there.”

“I need
to have a look.”

“And I
suppose I need to accompany you, because QuiTai would never forgive me if I
ever let someone in there without watching them. Make it quick, Governor. I
have a lot of work to do before we open tonight.”

~ ~ ~

QuiTai’s office door swung open part way and then
rebounded toward Kyam. It wouldn’t open further no matter how hard he pushed
against it. Splinters snagged his trousers as he sucked in his breath to slip
inside.

The small room was well lit by jellylanterns. It had no
windows and only the one door, although he assumed at least one hidden passage
had been built into the walls, because QuiTai would never leave herself only
one escape route.

A tall iron safe stood behind the door. From the deep drag
marks in the flooring, someone had tried to move it but had given up. Scrapes
on the metal dial and around the edges of the safe door showed futile efforts
to pry it open.

“The militia did that too,” Inattra told him. “The plan
was to carry it down to the fortress so they’d have time to figure out the
combination.”

“Too heavy?”

“That, and one of them was smart enough to measure the
doorway before they tried to push it through.” He knocked on the door frame. “She
had this made of metal too, so they couldn’t saw away the wood. This room was
built around the safe. They could push it back and forth over the floor all
day, but they’d never get it out of the room, and it would take months to try
all the combinations.”

“But you know it?”

Inattra showed him bruises ringing his wrist. “That’s what
the militia thought. I use the smaller safe inside the wardrobe. The soldiers
didn’t even look for it. Once they saw the behemoth, they focused on that. I’m
lucky they didn’t try to beat the combination out of me.”

“Why didn’t they?”

“They got in a few blows before I lost my temper and
shifted masculine. They recognized testosterone-fueled rage when they saw it.
My muscles ripped my best jacket into rags.” He squeezed his biceps. “We Madams
have to deal with belligerent drunks all the time. We make sure we have the
strength to beat them. The militia is no different from a drunk – except
drunks rarely rob you.”

Kyam knew he should do something about the militia’s
thuggery, but soon they would be another Governor’s problem.

“It’s not that I don’t care what the militia did, but I
have to concentrate on the murder. Can you come in here and tell me if anything
strikes you as odd?” Kyam asked.

Inattra’s
slim frame easily slipped around the door. They stood shoulder to shoulder and
looked at QuiTai’s office.

It was
difficult to know where to look first. The far wall was covered in clocks, most
of their workings exposed. The pendulums were swinging out of synch, and he had
to resist the urge to force them into unison.

Books
filled every shelf of the bookcases. Many were stacked on top of other books.
He knew QuiTai spoke several languages, so it didn’t surprise him that the
math, science, and technological manuals seemed to come from every country on
the continent. That didn’t interest him as much as the
fantasies
on the opposite shelves. People might call them toys, but the beautiful
mechanical gadgets were so much more. Inventors in Ingosol built scale models
of their machines to show potential investors. Some were crafted by professors
to demonstrate concepts to their students, but others, such as the motion
picture viewer on the middle shelf, were sold in stores.

He could have spent all day exploring her private
collection. It was a rare insight into the most private person he’d ever met.
If only Inattra would go away and let him absorb this peek inside QuiTai’s
brain! But the mismatched ticking from the wall of clocks reminded him that he
didn’t have time for that.

The scale model of a rigid balloon sat in pieces on a side
table. Kyam thought at first that the militia had broken it, but then he saw
the journal with sketches of the parts underneath the model. Beside the
drawings were formulas and notes that went to the bottom of the page and then
turned up the side and continued. He moved a set of tiny gears off the page and
lifted the journal to show Inattra.

“I don’t recognize this alphabet. Do you?” he asked.

Inattra
shrugged. “Maybe it’s Ponongese.”

He set
the journal down. “They don’t have a written language.”

Inattra
gingerly reached out to touch the motion picture viewer. “These were Jezereet’s.
QuiTai was always bringing them to her. Sweets, too, imported all the way from
Rantuum. Jezereet wouldn’t eat them, so she always gave them to us. Jez didn’t
like the fantasies and follies either.” He sounded wistful. “I can’t imagine
being loved like that. I can’t imagine being loved like that and not caring.”

Inattra turned around and leaned against the cabinet. “I
knew Jez back in Rantuum. Not friends, you understand, but our social circles
overlapped. He– She– Your genders are too clumsy for my people, too
limited.
She
was amazing. So
talented. Black lotus stole that from her. Toward the end, all she cared about
was her next pipe, and I had to watch QuiTai desperately try to distract Jez from
it, even though she had to know it was useless. Vapor is evil. I won’t touch
it. I don’t stop the workers here from offering it to their customers, but it
makes my skin crawl to have it under the roof.”

More gossip. They were determined to distract him.

Kyam pointed to the empty desktop. “Anything odd here?”

“The desk is always bare like that. She demands that
everything be put away in the safe, even if I leave the office for only a
minute.”

“But not her journal?”

“I can’t read that. Can you? She doesn’t need to hide it.
Business records and coins are another matter. Things like that you don’t leave
out.”

“Are the records in the big safe only for the Red
Happiness?”

Inattra snorted. “Do you actually think I’d tell you if
QuiTai kept details of her network in there too? Do you think I’d dare look at
anything I wasn’t supposed to? She’s not stupid enough to leave that sort of
information around where anyone could see it. She’s careful, always. Never
slips.”

“She doesn’t trust you?”

“Don’t try to sow discord, Governor. I know my place. She
trusts me within the scope of my job, and that’s all I care about. She doesn’t
give people a chance to betray her. If I messed up the things she entrusts to
me here, she’d shove me out in the street so fast I wouldn’t have time to
blink. I have no illusions about that. But at least this job is all I have to
worry about.”

“You
expect me to believe she’s never once let anything accidentally slip in front
of you? Not once?”

Inattra
glanced away and fiddled with the side propellers on the rigid balloon. “I
occasionally hear about her business outside the Red Happiness, but I don’t
want to disappear like some other people I could name, so don’t even bother
asking what it was that I heard.” He walked to the wardrobe beside the settee
and yanked open the door. “Now find what you came for and go. We’re both trying
to beat the sun, so let’s get out of each other’s way.”

Kyam was tempted to turn around and leave. So what if
QuiTai had changed clothes? She’d obviously been down at the wharf for a reason,
and if that reason was to meet Mityam Muul, she most certainly would have worn
her finest continental fashion. So why had she changed?