Chapter 15
“Right this way,” the manager babbled as he led us down a dimly lit concrete hall in the factory.
It had been pleasantly easy to intimidate the security guard into calling his boss, who came down and immediately began blustering and threatening us for trespassing.
But once Fenris had produced a document that demanded access to Timbran’s tax records – an illusion, of course, but a human couldn’t tell that – the manager had crumbled, fear entering his grey-green eyes at the thought of being dragged back to Solantha and tossed onto Prison Isle for failing to cooperate.
“I assure you, we keep meticulous accounting records,” the manager continued, shouting over the noise of the factory machines.
I forced myself to stop breathing through my nose – the stench of old food and meat that I sincerely hoped was not making it into tin cans, was turning my stomach.
“And, of course, the head of our finance department is up to snuff on tax codes. She would never make a mistake.”
“Of course not,” I said smoothly, injecting a slightly patronizing undertone into my voice. “But we have to make these surprise visits every once in a while, or else businesses would become complacent and try to work around the codes.”
“Yes, yes, I understand.” The manager led us into a large, utilitarian office space. Vertical filing cabinets and stacks of bankers boxes lined the walls. The two desks in the room, while neatly organized, had large stacks of paper on them, and boxes were stacked on the floor next to them.
“If you had come a few hours earlier, I could have had Verna show you the records.” The manager’s eyes darted around the room worriedly.
“But, unfortunately, she’s gone for the day, as she gets in very early.
I’ll do my best to find what you’re looking for.
” He scooped a hand through his thinning hair, then turned to look at us again.
“What did you say you were looking for again?”
“Let’s start with shipping records, from the past six months,” I supplied helpfully.
The man’s high forehead crinkled. “What exactly do you need the shipping records for?” he asked.
“You’re not interested in our reasons for looking at the shipment records,” Fenris said, magic resonating in his voice.
I’d witnessed him use this talent only once before, to make a pair of Coazi forget they’d seen us, and I held my breath, hoping it would work.
Fenris had said it was less effective on the strong-willed.
“You want to show us what we need to know quickly, so you can get back to work.”
“Right!” the manager’s face cleared, and he turned on his heel. “I know exactly where the shipping records are. Come this way.”
I gave Fenris an arch look as we followed the manager over to the opposite corner, where he immediately started opening cabinet drawers. “I’d hate to think what would have happened if that didn’t work. Our cover would have been blown for sure.”
“I am a fairly good judge of character,” Fenris said, sounding a little offended that I would doubt him. “I’ve rarely been wrong about suitable subjects for suggestion magic.”
Suggestion magic. That was what Iannis had called it too, during that time when he had used it to break into the house where the sick Federation Minister had been held against his will. That would be such a useful talent to have…
“Here we are.” The manager pulled out a logbook, then turned and handed it to us. It was a little beat up, and the leather binding had seen better days, but the handwriting on the pages was clear and neat.
“Thank you. We’ll be just a moment,” I told the manager before turning around and placing the book on the desk nearest us.
Fenris and I bent our heads together to look over the pages, and I quickly flipped through the last few months, scanning the records with ease.
I’d developed an eye for paperwork after weeks of doing grunt work for the Mages Guild, and though I never thought I’d be thanking them for putting me through that hellish torture, I had to admit it was paying off now.
“Here. And here. And here again,” I told Fenris, pointing to certain shipments that caught my eye. “These must be the ones who are going to the Resistance.”
“Ah, yes, I see.” Fenris’s eyes narrowed as he nodded in agreement.
“These shipments are much larger than any of their other customers, and unlike the other recipients, there is no shipping address listed here.” The records only showed that the merchandise was picked up by boat, but not where it was delivered to, and that the bills were promptly paid by a company called Supplysafe.
“Do you know where Supplysafe is located?” I asked over my shoulder.
“W-what?” the manager stuttered, clearly unprepared for the question.
I turned around to face him. “Supplysafe. According to these shipment records, they’re currently your biggest customer. Where are they located?”
“I’m not sure. Gaston, I think,” the manager said, referring to a distant town on the East Coast. “We don’t know very much about them.”
I arched a brow. “I noticed. You don’t list an address for them on your shipments. Isn’t that unusual?”
“Yes, it is,” the manager mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.
But then, he pulled himself together and looked straight at me.
“But as you mentioned, Inspector, they’re currently our best customer, and business had slowed down in the past year.
With the quantities they order and their willingness to pay promptly, it didn’t seem wise to push them when they neglected to provide a delivery address.
The extra income from their business has allowed us to purchase several additional steam-canning machines, and for the first time in years, we’re looking at expanding again.
” He folded his arms and gave us a beady eye, as if the explanation could justify his apparent willingness to look the other way.
“There aren’t very many businesses that can say that in these troubling times. ”
“Indeed,” I said sharply, and he flinched. “Your records say that the shipments go out by boat. Where are your captains told to bring the freight?”
“They aren’t,” the manager admitted. “Supplysafe sends their own boats to pick up the shipments. Like I said, they’re a great customer.”
Fantastic, I grumbled to myself. “How did Timbran’s first come into contact with them?” I demanded. “Surely a representative must have gotten in touch with you, or vice versa.”
“All our business with Supplysafe has been via letter and messenger,” the manager explained. “And the messengers work for courier companies, as far as I can tell.”
“So you’ve never met the owners?”
“Never.” The manager frowned. “What did you say this was about again?”
I bit back a sigh as Fenris took control of the conversation, using his suggestion magic to steer the manager’s suspicions away.
We asked him a few more questions, but the only other information we managed to get out of him was the billing address Supplysafe had given them, and the account numbers used to pay the bills.
My eyebrows went up as I noticed the account belonged to Sandin Federal Bank.
There was no way that was a coincidence.
If I could find a link between Sandin and Supplysafe – aside from their initials – we might be that much closer to discovering the Benefactor’s identity.
“My nose isn’t as well trained as yours,” Fenris said once we were outside and headed back to our vehicle, “but as far as I could tell, the man seemed truthful. Do you concur?”
“I do,” I said as I got into the steamcar.
“If there’s more to this story – and I’m sure there is – the manager doesn’t know about it.
The Benefactor has not only done a great job of covering his tracks, he’s also ensured that the people he deals with can’t give much away, since they know next to nothing themselves. ”
“Will you consult with the Finance Secretary, then, regarding the Sandin Federal connection?” Fenris asked as he started the steamcar and guided us back down to the dirt road. “I imagine he could be quite helpful in this matter.”
“First chance I get,” I decided, settling into my seat for the ride. “Now hurry up and get us back.”
Somewhere along the drive back home, Fenris developed a lead foot.
We got back to the Palace in half the time it had taken us to get to Timbran’s, which was a good thing because I was getting antsy to move on with the investigation.
Fenris, it turned out, had matters of his own to deal with, so I left him to take care of returning the steamcar, and headed toward the Mages Guild to enlist the Finance Secretary’s help.
Unfortunately, Cirin wasn’t in his office, and I didn’t think he’d appreciate it if I enlisted one of the few overloaded staff he had left to help me, without his permission.
Annoyed, I went to see if I could speak to Iannis, but Dira informed me he was out again, dealing with the prisoner crisis.
Damn. These problems were stacking themselves on top of each other, and I knew if I could just get a few moments to talk to Iannis, my suggestions might help him figure out a solution.
If we could keep our hands off each other, that was.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I headed back out of the Guild offices, trying to figure out what to do next.
My feet took me in the direction of the West Wing, and the next thing I knew, I was standing outside the library.
Hmm. Libraries were supposed to be good resources of information, right?
Maybe there was something in there that could help me.
“Good afternoon, Miss Baine,” Janta said, pushing up her spectacles as I entered. She was dressed in set of daisy-yellow robes today, her silver hair braided into a coil and wrapped around her head. Once again, she was all alone. “Is there something I can help you find today?”
“Maybe.” I dragged a hand through my hair, wondering how to phrase my request. “Umm, is there a way to find out who the owners of a company in another state are?”
Janta smiled. “But of course. The library has a nation-wide company directory, and updates are published biannually. It’s never entirely up to date, but close enough.”
“Really?” I grinned, surprised and pleased. “Do you think it’ll have companies listed that are located in remote towns? Like, say, a company called Supplysafe in Gaston?”
“That may be a tough one,” the librarian admitted as she rose from her seat. “But we’ll see. Give me just one moment.”
She bustled away to, leaving me alone at the front desk for a few moments.
I drummed my finger against the wooden surface as I waited, trying not to get carried away by the hope dancing around in my chest. It seemed like an eternity before Janta came back – although it was probably only a few minutes – but when she emerged from between the shelves, she was carrying a large, heavy-looking book.
“Here, come around to my side of the desk,” she said kindly, pushing aside some papers so she could set the tome down. “We’ll have a look at this together.”
I did as she asked, snagging a chair from one of the tables and bringing it over so I could sit next to her.
Janta opened the book to a certain section, then scanned the directory with a slender finger, drawing my attention to her silver-painted nails.
She murmured softly as she read the names aloud.
“Supplysafe,” she finally said, raising her volume to an audible level again. “It says here they are a subsidiary of something called the Bellington Trust.”
I bit back a groan. “I don’t like the sound of that.” The last thing I needed was to go through a bunch of different companies, only to hit another dead end.
“Now, now.” Janta gave me small smile. “Don’t be so impatient, Miss Baine. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Using the alphabetic index, we found the entry for the Bellington Trust, which was based in Dara rather than Gaston.
Janta’s research skills managed to unearth the interesting fact that the trust was also a majority owner of Privacy Guard.
Moreover, it had its fingers in dozens of rather important pies, including the recently disbanded Sandin Federal Bank.
“Wow.” I sat back in my chair nearly an hour later, glancing over the growing pile of record books we’d amassed.
“I can’t believe you managed to find all this, Janta.
You’re amazing.” For the first time, I felt like I was finally getting somewhere with this.
I wondered if maybe after this was all over, I could enlist Jana’s help in finding my father.
I knew Iannis wasn’t keen on the idea of me searching for him, but I wanted to know the truth, dammit, and ten years was far too long to wait.
The librarian shrugged off my compliment, but still seemed pleased.
I was definitely getting better at reading mages.
“I can find out more,” she promised. “I have a colleague in Dara whom I can consult regarding the Bellington Trust. She may be able to help us establish the identity of the owners.” A slight frown creased her brow.
“It may take a while, though, because the few lines in the Palace that can be used for out-of-state calls have been reserved for emergencies.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Urama,” I said, rising from my seat, filled with new optimism.
“Finding the identity of the Benefactor is a major part of the current emergency, and might just be the most important task aside from fending off the Resistance attacks. I’ll speak to the Chief Mage today, and get you cleared to make your phone call. ”
And with that in mind, I swept from the room, determined to locate Iannis and get my long-overdue audience.