Landers led Shelby from the dining hall to the study. Inside Le Bec was sitting in a high backed chair hunched over a large, tattered book. He flipped through the yellowed pages, letting them slip from under his thumb. He turned to the door.
“Little Mouse,” he said. “Come sit. There’s a lot to get through yet.”
Shelby sat in the middle of a sofa, slouching until her feet rested on the ground. Le Bec closed the book on his hand and leaned forward.
“First of all,” he began, “Le Bec is what the daily rags call me. Not that I mind it, though. My name is Guy-Manuel Peter George St. John le Baptiste de la Salle Corbin.”
“Why do the papers call you Le Bec?” asked Shelby.
“It means ‘the beak’,” replied Guy. “Because of the of mask I wear.”
“What was that you robbed last night?” asked Shelby.
“Please, ‘burgled’,” said Guy. “ ‘Steal’ if you absolutely must. But never ‘robbed’. We’re not stick up artists. I taste bile referring to them as artists. Burglary is art. Passing unnoticed in broad daylight. Gaining entry into the most impenetrable of fortresses. Acquiring anything that takes our fancy. This is art.”
“You break into a lot of fortresses?” smirked Shelby.
“You’re pretty pedantic for an eleven-year-old?” asked Guy.
“I’m twelve,” said Shelby.
“There you go again,” said Guy. “Anyway, it’s an object of great power. It’s a figurine of a peregrine carved from The Empress’s Jade.”
“The Empress’s Jade?” asked Shelby.
“The Empress’s Jade is as old as the universe. It’s the primordial power of life itself. As for what this little totem that was carved from it is for, I have no idea. That’s what I was researching when you came in.”
“What’s that book?” Shelby asked, swiveling her head around the room,
“As a matter of fact, what are all these creepy old books?”
“Grimoires, encyclopedias of arcane things, alchemical tomes,” replied Guy. “All quite old. Most all but forgotten. I lent the best one out to that Doctor Andronikov that went and got himself arrested.”
“Steal it…”
Guy gave her a sharp glance.
“Burgle it back,” she said.
“Lord knows where it is at this point.”
Shelby got up to peruse the bookcases.
“Some of these look like they’re made out of human skin,” Shelby chuckled.
Guy looked at her over his reading glasses with tight lips and consoling eyes.
“Ewww,” she said and continued looking.
“Now run upstairs and change into the clothing Landers laid out for you,” said Guy. “I’ve got a big lesson planned for today.”
“But’s not even noon yet,” Shelby said.
“I’ve been invited to a rare daytime function and my absence would be conspicuous,” said Guy. “You’ll accompany me as my ward; an adopted orphan.”
“Ward?” Shelby frowned.
“More or less true, I suppose. If you can think of a better story as to why I would have brought you, I’d be interested in hearing it.”
“What is this thing anyway?”
“Mayor Maestri is throwing some kind of soiree or another. He has invited me to attend.”
“You’re friends with the Mayor?” asked Shelby.
“ ‘Friend’ would be a very creative use of the word,” replied Guy. “I detest the oaf.”
“Then why are we going?”
“All part of today’s lesson. Now run and get ready before we’re late.”
Guy and Shelby arrived at the main foyer of the mayor’s mansion, fashionably late.
“Never thought I’d be rubbing elbows with these snobs,” Shelby whispered into Guy’s sleeve. “I remember every one of these faces.”
“Really?” asked Guy. “Where have you met all these faces?”
“When I was first on the street and begging for change,” replied Shelby.
“Just walked by. Didn’t even look at me.”
“Motivation is important, but don’t lose focus to a vendetta,” Guy said,
“That can wait.”
“That gargoyle there is only one of these heels who ever talked to me,” Shelby said, pointing out a gaunt towering old woman standing across the room. “She leaned down and called me a wretched urchin and that all the orphans should be put on a boat and left to drift in the Gulf.”
“Let’s give her a warm greeting, eh?” said Guy leading Shelby slowly through the crowd. “As we walk through the hall. Pay attention.”
“Pay attention to what?” she asked.
“Everything,” replied Guy. “Not only what you see and hear, but what you smell…”
Guy leaned toward a well dressed young redhead and made theatrical sniff around her neck.
“Spuh-ing time in Pah-ee, if I am not mistaken, mademoiselle,” Guy bellowed in a farcical French accent.
“Oh, yes,” the girl said through a blushing grin. “It’s the very latest.”
“Brings me fond memories of my grandmother,” Guy said as he took her hand.
“Oh,” the girl replied with a collapsing grin.
Guy led Shelby on closer to her gargoyle.
“Also what you feel,” he said as he took the gloved hand of a rotund man in a bowler hat.
“Colonel Withers,” Guy shouted vigorously shaking the man’s pudgy hand,
“Are these gloves Egyptian cotton? Indeed Colonel, you are a man of refinement.”
The Colonel barely turned to face Guy before he had led Shelby off once again.
“And even taste,” said Guy, grabbing a shrimp and dragging it through the cocktail sauce.
He bit the tail and grabbed a napkin. He slapped the napkin to his mouth and pulled it down.
“About two days old,” he grumbled.
He turned around to the gargoyle and grabbed her hand.
“Madam Sturgis,” cooed Guy kissing her hand. “Tu es magnifique, comme toujours.”
“On-chan-tay, mis-yore, Cor-ban,” cooed Mrs. Sturgis.
“Indeed,” Guy said standing. “Allow me to introduce my ward, Shelby. She was orphaned, I have adopted her. Pity is one of my many faults, alas.”
“She’s a pretty little angel,” bellowed Mrs. Sturgis. “You feel so bad for the poor, dear souls don’t you?”
Shelby furrowed her brow and opened her mouth, but Guy shot his hand over her mouth before she could produce a sound.
“Oh, indeed,” said Guy. “So helpless.”
Mrs. Sturgis and Guy looked at each other and shook their heads.
“Madam, tell me,” Guy began after what seemed like a predetermined period of mutual Weltschmerz, “I’ve begun to take a shine to jade recently and have an eye for exotic fineries. Would you be able to maybe point me in the direction a reputable dealer? If it’s not imposing, of course.”
Mrs. Sturgis stood frozen as if nobody had let her in on the predetermined time they would be enjoying mutual Weltschmerz.
“I, no, not jade, not offhand, no,” she said shaking her head.
“Je suis désolé, madam,” Guy said, patting her on the back of the hand. “I did not mean to impose, excusez-moi.”
Guy bowed and led Shelby away.
“She looked sick when you mentioned ‘jade’,” Shelby said.
“You noticed. Good,” replied Guy.
“Why is that good?” asked Shelby.
“Investigation requires you are always observing.”
“Right now, I’m observing Detective Ed Danvers at six o’clock,” said Shelby shrinking behind Guy. “I gotta get out of here.”
“It’s fine. Remember; adopted orphan.”
Delareux and Toli stood out front of the mayor’s mansion. Toli paced the sidewalk looking at his watch.
“It’s ten after one,” Toli said.
“Just a few more minutes,” Thomas said.
“Why do we need to be late?”
“Fashionably late.”
“What makes you think you’ll find Le Bec here?” asked Toli.
“Well,” replied Delareux, “He returns what he stole, so he’s not doing it for the money. He only steals from the rich so it’s possible he’s stealing from the people he knows and he works the graveyard shift so he probably doesn’t have to worry about a day job.”
“How are you even going to know him if you saw him?”.
“I don’t know. Get a vibe or something.”
After a long stretch of silence, Toli turned to look at Delareux. He found his hands clasped, head bent and brow deeply furrowed in consternation. It seemed to Toli like he was in the throws of prayer or, at the very least, deep thought.
“What are you doing?” asked Toli.
“Do these look right to you?” asked Delareux.
“Do what looks right?”
“My thumbs.”
Toli stared for a moment, “They look fine.”
“Okay,” said Tom raising his head, buttoning his blazer and taking another quick glance at his hands.
He watched through the hedges as the valets at the door wandered off to smoke a cigarette.
“Let’s go,” he grabbed Toli by the cuff and they slipped in through the door.
***
As Guy dragged Shelby schmoozing through the party, Ed Danvers made eyes on Shelby hiding behind Guy and darted over.
“What are doing here, you little vagabond?” he said to Shelby. “Picking pockets? This must be a buffet to you, set you up for awhile.”
Guy turned to face Danvers.
“Ah bonjour, Detective Danvers,” Guy bellowed. “Please let me introduce my ward, Shelby.”
“Your ward?” Danvers said incredulously. “Yeah, that’s perfect, isn’t it?”
“I feel that all the child needs is proper adult influence. To put her on the straight and narrow. Build a strong work ethic,” explained Guy.
“I bet she’ll learn a fine work ethic from you, Corbin,” said Danvers. “Hell, she’s already used to the late shift.”
“Detective, what is your implication?”
“You know damn well…”
“Detective Danvers,” said Toli emerging from the crowd and shooting his hand out.
“Oh great, if you’re here that means the other one is too,” Danvers groused.
“I haven’t seen you since Delareux and I cracked the Andronikov case,” Toli grinned.
“I was enjoying that.”
“Afternoon, Detective,” Delareux chirped.
“They’ll let in any riff-raff, won’t they?” Danvers grumbled. “How did you two bums get an invite to this fancy shindig?”
“You told me this was open to the public,” Toli griped at Delareux.
“It is if you time it right,” Delareux replied.
“Hey, Delareux,” Shelby chirped poking out from behind Guy. “Mr. Palazzo.”
“Isn’t this nice?” Danvers growled. “Like old home week.”
“Hi, Shelb,” Delareux replied. “Keeping out of trouble?”
“No,” she snickered.
“Detective Delareux?” Guy chimed in and offered his hand.
“The same,” Delareux replied, shaking Guy’s hand.
“You have quite the reputation.”
“I try not to. They just get in the way. You are?”
“Of course. I am Guy-Manuel Peter George St. John le Baptiste de la Salle Corbin.”
“Your mother must have had it out for you.”
“Maybe. I never knew my mother. I was an orphan much like our mutual friend Shelby, here. I recently adopted her. To give back, you know. Good karma, eh?”
“Nice dress you got her all dolled up in.” Delareux looked at Shelby askance.
“It’s uncomfortable,” Shelby frowned.
“You don’t like it, Miss Shelby?” Guy asked and turned to Delareux. “It brings out the green in her eyes, no?”
“Yeah,” Delareux replied locking eyes with Guy. “Like jade. Just like jade.”
As Guy’s smile dropped with Delareux’s reply a commotion could be heard near the front of the room. Some uniformed police officers were shouting at a small, nebbish man who trotting through the room in distress, scanning the crowd.
“Judge Sturgis?” he shouted to anyone as two police officers grabbed each of his arms, “I must speak to Judge Sturgis.”
The police began dragging the little man out as he continued to shout for Sturgis.
“Hang on one moment, officers,” a tall man called out from under an ostentatious, oversized Stetson ten gallon.
“Verne,” the little man yelped as he wrestled his way out of the grip of the officers and jogged toward Sturgis.
“What is it, Parker?” Sturgis growled.
“We need to talk.”
“It’s fine, officers,” Sturgis waved the police away and took Parker aside.
“Out with it, Parker. This better be good.”
“The peregrine,” Parker panted. “It’s been stolen and the sleeper is awakening.”
Comments (0)
See all