2. CHAPTER TWO #3
Girard sat back down at the table and helped himself to more tea as well.
He looked tired. Hallie took a closer look at him, concern spiking.
The wound on his head was swollen, closing gradually.
Hochlen healing was very fast, but also required a great deal of energy.
He caught her watching and gave her a small smile, one of the quiet, warm smiles that he seemed to reserve only for her and which made her whole being want to smile back.
Before she could respond, a voice emerged from the speakers built into the screen.
“Ah, good, there you are.” Peredur Roth, director of the Conclave Investigators, appeared.
Through the video link his pale blond, grey-streaked hair looked almost pure white and Hallie could see shadows under his eyes and faint lines on his lean face.
Hochlen aged slowly and rarely showed their true years on their faces, but Peredur looked older than he ever had before, not least because his normally tanned skin looked paler than she was used to, as if he’d been spending all his time indoors.
She couldn’t help wondering just how much rest he’d managed to get in the week or so since she’d seen him last. The director took a seat facing the camera and frowned.
“What happened? You look like you’ve been in a fight. ”
“Our target pulled a market stall over and it landed mostly on me,” Girard said, sounding more than a little embarrassed. “I haven’t had time to clean up yet.”
“Do you need medical attention?” Peredur asked, voice sharp. It was one of his many good qualities, as far as Hallie was concerned, that he believed in looking after his people. Even when he himself looked worn out.
“No. Nothing’s broken. I’ll heal soon enough, sir,” Girard said.
“Good. Did you get the target?” Peredur asked.
“Manju Nayak. Yes,” Girard said, a smile lifting his mouth. “Well, Hallie did. Chased him across a few rooftops.”
“I imagine not the first time you’ve had to do that, Miss Talbot?”
“No, sir,” Hallie confirmed.
“Get anything out of him?” Peredur asked.
“We’re getting somewhere, yes, sir,” Girard said. He gave the director a brief summary of the conversation they’d had. “He’s a slippery character, sir, but he might have some useful information. I’d like to speak to him again.”
A harsh electronic sound at the other end of the link made Hallie jump. The director reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, frowned at the screen, pressed a button, silencing the noise, and then made another adjustment which to Hallie looked like turning his phone off.
“Apologies. Another Conclave member wanting an update,” Peredur said.
From the way he said it, the call was not the first he’d received that day.
Managing all the demands on his time and attention would explain a great deal of the strain Hallie could see on his face.
Members of the world’s ruling council, the Conclave, were used to people jumping to do their bidding, and Peredur, along with the rest of his unit, were employees of the Conclave.
At the time of the last Conclave meeting in Daydawn, there had been explosions on container ships just off the docks at the port.
The director had taken personal charge of the investigation.
It had yet to lead to any arrests or clear answers and Hallie was quite sure that the Conclave members were not happy about that.
She hoped that the director was not going to get in trouble for ignoring the call, or shutting his phone off.
He didn’t look worried as he faced the screen. “Miss Talbot? Anything to add?”
The first time he’d levelled that question at her, Hallie had been startled and uneasy, thinking it meant he didn’t trust what Girard had told him.
Over the past couple of weeks as they’d had their regular check-ins with Peredur, she’d come to realise it wasn’t a matter of trusting Girard or not, it was partly reflexive courtesy on the director’s part and partly because, as he’d told her when he offered her the job, she had a different background and skill set and he wanted her perspective.
She and Girard almost never disagreed on the significant points, but they did notice different details.
“Manju Nayak is a very good liar, sir,” Hallie said, “perhaps the best I’ve ever come across. But he’s genuinely afraid of Findo Trask. Manju will tell us what he knows, but I am not sure how much closer that’s going to get us. Findo has been careful to keep a lot of his contacts at arm’s length.”
“I agree,” Girard said.
“Right,” the director said, frowning as if in deep thought.
Despite the sharp picture on the screen, Hallie found herself wishing she was in the room with him so she could gauge his reactions better.
She had the sense that she was missing something.
“Take another day there, get what you can, then I need you both back in Daydawn.”
“Problem, sir?” Girard asked, eyes keen as he looked at the screen.
Peredur’s face stilled, the sort of expression that told Hallie he was trying to hide something.
She wondered if he was alone in the room, or worried about being overhead.
“Plenty of them.” His voice was dry, the wry humour slightly reassuring, at least as far as Hallie was concerned.
“Nothing imminent. I’ll see you when you get back here. ”
The screen went blank and the camera light switched to green, letting Hallie know that the connection had been cut. All the same, she frowned at the blank space for a long moment before she turned to Girard.
“That was the shortest conversation we’ve had with Peredur. Any idea what’s going on?” she asked.
“I don’t know for sure, but I would guess that there’s been more pressure from the Conclave,” Girard said.
“It’s not like him to ignore a call from one of the members.
” He shifted in his chair and put a hand on his ribs, grimacing.
“The investigation into the explosions and protests hasn’t yielded results yet, and there are those on the Conclave who were already impatient when we left Daydawn. ”
That fit with what Hallie had also observed, but it still left her unsatisfied and uneasy.
Hallie stared into her tea, frustration clawing at her. She wished they had better news for the director.
She and Girard had left Daydawn about two weeks before, with the mission of tracking down Findo Trask and bringing him back into custody. They’d had a list of possible places to look and Hallie for one had been hopeful that it wouldn’t be long before the powerful veondken was back in cuffs.
Two weeks later, the last five days spent in Minamaan, and she was no longer as confident.
She thought they’d get hold of Findo eventually, but had no idea when that might be.
She’d learned that it was one thing to track a fugitive through the crowded streets of low city, which was a defined geographic location with only so many places a person could hide, and quite another to hunt a well-funded, determined fugitive across the world.
As one person, tracking in low city had taken a great deal of time and effort.
Across the world, even with the resources of the Conclave Investigators and Conclave, it seemed impossible.
In their last stop, at a fishing village on the very tip of the Lucien Islands, the town mayor had welcomed them with smiles and lies.
Amongst all the false statements there had been a passing, throw-away reference to Minamaan.
It had been the only true thing he’d said and it had stirred an itch under Hallie’s skin.
So rather than going to the next place on their list of possible locations, they’d come here.
And now, after four days looking for one man in one city, they had Manju Nayak in their charge.
Hallie scrubbed her hands across her face. “I feel like we’re not getting anywhere,” she complained, then dropped her hands, heat rising in her face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that aloud.”
“It’s alright. I know exactly what you mean.
I’ve lost count of the number of people we’ve talked to, the number of false leads we’ve followed up on,” Girard said, running a hand through his hair and wincing as his fingers brushed the wound.
“I really thought Manju would have better information for us.”
“He might still,” Hallie said, then shook her head. “No, I don’t know. I think I’m trying to fool myself.” A vibration and ping from her pocket distracted her and she pulled out her phone, brows lifting as she read the first line of the message.
“Good news?” Girard asked, sounding hopeful.
“It might be. I asked, er, someone in Daydawn to find out where to go for false papers and ID,” Hallie said, stumbling a bit as she tried to hide the identity of her source. “They’ve just sent me a name.”
“That is good news,” Girard said, leaning forward slightly, eyes brightening.
“That’s exactly the kind of person that Findo might have dealt with.
” From what they knew about Findo Trask, he was able to move around the world at will.
And that took resources and contacts. He might even have a fake ID or two of his own.
“Yes,” Hallie said slowly, scanning the rest of the message. “It does look like a good lead. We’re going back to Daydawn anyway, aren’t we? Do you think the director will let us follow up?”
“I’ll make sure he does,” Girard said. He got to his feet. “Why don’t we get showers and a change of clothes and then regroup over dinner?”
“Sounds good,” Hallie said, getting to her feet as well, phone tucked back into her pocket.
She took a step towards him and took hold of his hand, welcoming the feel of his fingers wrapping around hers.
“I’m glad you weren’t badly hurt.” She hadn’t said that before, she realised.
There had been no time, and no privacy with Manju as their companion.
Girard’s face lifted into a smile, eyes warm as he looked at her. “I’ve had far worse.” His tone might be light, but Hallie could hear the truth beneath it. She let go of his hand and took a step back, mind turning to work.
“I wonder if we should invite our, er, guest to join us? We might be able to get something out of him over a meal?” she tried not to sound too reluctant as she made the offer.
She’d had two weeks’ travelling with Girard and he had been careful to keep their arrangements as professional as possible, so they had always had separate rooms and the majority of their conversations and interactions were about work.
For Hallie, every place they had been to was strange and new and she was still adjusting to working with someone else day-to-day.
All of that was proving more enjoyable than she could have imagined, more than she had believed might be possible.
And yet, she still found herself craving more from Girard.
She had the sense that he was holding something back and she didn’t understand why, and hadn’t yet found an appropriate moment to ask any of the questions in her mind.
It was only in their rare moments off duty that he had let his guard down a little.
And for the past few nights in particular, after long days in the heat of the city, she and Girard had fallen into a habit of having leisurely evening meals.
With Oreste and Kasmo never too far away, the evenings hadn’t progressed beyond conversation, but Hallie had enjoyed every moment and found herself reluctant to give up her time with Girard even for the sake of the investigation they were on.
Girard grimaced, as if he, too, didn’t want to invite Manju into their time, but he nodded, releasing her hand. “That’s a good plan. If we can get information from him tonight, we can head off earlier tomorrow.”
“Alright,” Hallie said, foreseeing that the rest of their time in the city would be spent trying to prise what he might know out of Manju and then packing for the journey home.
“What’s wrong?” Girard asked. Clearly she hadn’t concealed her disappointment well.
“Nothing, really. I’d just hoped to get a chance to visit the market properly.
Have a look at the goods. There’s a stall with the most incredible array of spices - I’m sure Rosalia would love some,” Hallie said.
And there had also been a stall with stunningly beautiful silk scarves that had drawn her attention, but that seemed very frivolous to mention.
To her surprise, Girard grinned at her. “We can absolutely go shopping for a couple of hours. It will take a bit of time to organise transport anyway.”
“Oh, good,” Hallie said, smiling back, ridiculously pleased. On impulse, she crossed the two strides between her and Girard and kissed him briefly on his mouth. It broke their unspoken rule about keeping work and personal separate, but she needed the contact.
Girard brushed his hand over her cheek. She wanted to lean into the touch and stay there for a while. His voice was quiet and full of the warmth she could see in his eyes. “I do wish we didn’t have company for dinner.”
“I know. But he might talk. We might get something useful.” She hoped it would be worth all the effort of finding Manju, and giving up one of her evenings with Girard.
On that thought, Hallie turned and left, heading upstairs to her room, glad to be able to wash off the dust and sweat of the day before settling down to interrogate their guest over Kasmo’s fine cooking.