Jimmy the Hand (6 page)

‘Damn him
right enough,’ Larry said. ‘But this was del Garza.
Radburn’s out of town—took ship not an hour after the
Princess got away.’ Jimmy blinked. If Larry knew the Princess
had been the one fleeing last night, then everyone knew it. So much
for secrets. ‘Del Garza’s in charge, and he’s gone
crazy mean.’

Crazy like a
fox,
Jimmy thought, motionless, as implications ran through his
mind.
Princess gone, Radburn chasing her—del Garza will want
lots of people to pin the blame on when the Duke gets back. Radburn
can at least say he went after them right away. What was that old
saying?
Victory has a thousand fathers, but defeat is an orphan.
Del Garza wants to have as many other candidates for the role of
defeat’s father as he can.

‘Del
Garza’s a snake from the same egg as Radburn,’ Larry said
passionately. ‘He’s up to something and even if it takes
hurting a little boy, he’ll do it!’

Jimmy nodded in
agreement. ‘Well, we won’t let him,’ he said
quietly. ‘Let’s see what the Upright Man decides and if
he doesn’t make the right decision, well, we’ll see.’
He punched Larry’s shoulder. ‘You with me?’

The younger
lad’s eyes filled with hope and he nodded.

‘Who else
do you think will take our point of view?’ Jimmy asked quietly.

‘I’ll
find out,’ Larry said, swiping his dirty sleeve over his eyes,
leaving dark smears behind.

Jimmy nodded.
‘Me too. But we’ll not discuss this again until we’ve
found out what action will be taken.’ And he meant by del Garza
as much as he did the Upright Man and his lieutenants. ‘Let’s
move around, see what we can find out.’

Larry nodded and
they both moved off.

‘Have any
of the houses been affected?’ a fat man was asking a group of
prostitutes. ‘The ones we’re behind, I mean.’

‘Not yet,’
one of the women answered, a needle-nosed woman who looked well over
forty. ‘But if this doesn’t get old Jocko what he wants
they’ll be next. Sitting-ducks, so to speak, that’s what
they are.’

‘A lot of
the gentry go to those places,’ said one of her friends. ‘They
wouldn’t like having their pleasures interfered with.’

‘Oh,
that’ll worry the secret police,’ needle-nose sneered.
‘They’d just love to have something like that on a
gentleman of quality, or a rich merchant with a jealous wife. Mark my
words, even if this does get the bastard the results he wants,
that’ll be their next step anyway.’

‘True,’
the fat man agreed. ‘Once he’s begun, why should he
stop?’

Jimmy had to
agree. He supposed it was more surprising that the secret police
hadn’t already made such a move—Radburn was clever enough
to see it. For a power-mad, soulless bastard it seemed a logical
step, much more so than picking up the street girls. You could learn
a great deal if you had the power to squeeze the sporting houses; the
walls there literally had ears—conveniently placed listening
posts behind false walls in several of the richer brothels. More than
one merchant gladly paid a madam a little extra every month to keep
him current on what his drunken competitors said to impress their
current favourite. It took nothing for Jimmy to imagine an agent of
the Crown behind that listening post rather than the madam.

Even before the
events of the last week, rumours were that Guy du Bas-Tyra had
ambitions to be the next Prince of Krondor, and that Jocko Radburn
had his cap set on being the next Duke of Krondor. Western nobles
would certainly object openly in the Congress of Lords to such
appointments, but western nobles with something to hide might be a
great deal less vociferous in voicing those objections. Besides, the
more useful results Radburn and del Garza could squeeze out of this
mess, the more likely the Duke would be forgiving when he returned.

Jimmy spied
Noxious Neville sitting in a corner by himself; not unusual given
Neville’s aroma, which started with old sweat and worked up
from there. But the beggar had been a frequent guest in Krondor’s
dungeons and might have useful information. It just depended on how
addled he was today.

Jimmy squatted
down in front of the old beggar and waved a piece of silver back and
forth, knowing it was the best way to get the old man’s
attention. Gradually Neville stopped his rocking and his eyes began
to follow the coin; then his hand rose and tried to capture it. Jimmy
snatched it back and closed it in his fist.

‘Neville,’
he said, ‘I need some information.’

The old man
stared at him. He was quite mad, but deep in his eyes a canny
intelligence lurked. After all, he hadn’t starved or frozen or
been kicked to death by drunks yet.

‘Whatcha
wanta know?’ he asked, slurring his words.

‘Tell me
about the keep’s dungeons,’ Jimmy said. ‘I want to
know everything you can remember.’

Neville started
to chuckle until he choked, then he coughed until Jimmy expected him
to spit out a lung at any moment. Annoyed, because he suspected that
the coughing was a demand for liquid relief, Jimmy nevertheless rose
and acquired a mug of ale for the old beggar.

As expected, as
soon as the flagon was in Neville’s gnarled hand the spasm
ceased.

‘Take
more’n one silver to get that much,’ the old man rasped,
then took a sip.

‘How
much?’ Jimmy asked.

The beggar
shrugged with his whole body. ‘Twenty,’ he said, clearly
knowing he’d never get it.

Jimmy got up and
started to walk away.

‘Hey!’
Neville called, clearly irritated. ‘Where ya goin’?’

‘To talk
to someone who isn’t crazy,’ Jimmy threw over his
shoulder.

‘Cm back
here,’ the beggar demanded. ‘Don-cha know how to bargain?
What’ll ya give me? I’m crazy, not stupid.’

Jimmy held up
the coin and Neville started rocking and grumbling inaudibly.

‘Gimme
three,’ he demanded.

‘I’ve
already spent two coppers on your ale,’ Jimmy said. ‘I’m
not throwing good money after bad. You give me something for that and
if I think it’s worth more, I’ll pay more.’

‘S’fair,’
Neville said reluctantly. ‘Whatcha want to know?’

Jimmy sat before
him, breathing through his mouth to avoid the old man’s
prodigious stench, and asked him questions about the dungeons. How
deep were they, how to get in, how many cells, how many guards, how
often were the guards changed, how often were the prisoners fed, how
often were the slops taken out, if they were? Noxious Neville
answered every question with his eyes fixed keenly on the young
thief’s face and with every answer Jimmy’s heart fell
further.

‘Is there
any way to get out without the guards knowing it?’ he asked
finally.

Noxious Neville
barked a laugh. ‘By the goddess of luck, who hates me, how
should I know that?’ he demanded. ‘I never tried to get
out. More trouble’n it’s worth. Four days’s the
longest I’s ever there.’

Leaning closer,
Jimmy asked, ‘Did you ever hear of anyone escaping?’

The old beggar
began to giggle and wag a filthy finger at him. ‘Whatsa matta?
Jocko steal yer sweetie?’

Jimmy made his
eyes hard. ‘You’ve only got three teeth left, Neville,’
he pointed out. ‘Do you want me to break ‘em for you?’

Fast as a
striking snake the old man’s hand grabbed Jimmy’s arm
with shocking strength.

‘Like to
see you try it, I would,’ he snarled. ‘Little brat.’
He flung the young thief’s arm away from him. ‘Think I
stayed alive this long by accident? Maybe Lims-Kragma, the great
goddess of death, forgot about me? That what ya think? Hah! Stupid
brat.’ He spat to the side.

Jimmy assumed
from that that the old man was still willing to earn his silver. If
he’d finished talking Neville probably would have spat on him.
And then I’d have had to kill the old bastard.
Or
himself. The idea of being spat on by Noxious Neville was that
revolting.

‘Did you,’
Jimmy repeated evenly, ‘ever hear of anyone escaping?’

The old man
looked aside, shaking his head and waving the question away.

‘Is there
any way in or out that the guards don’t watch?’ Jimmy
asked desperately.

‘Only
thing I know about is the drain in the floor of the big cell.’
He chuckled, giving Jimmy an evil look. ‘But you wouldn’t
like that, it’s the hole we pissed in.’

Jimmy just
stared at him, thinking hard. No, he didn’t like it, but it
might have possibilities.

‘This
drain, it leads directly to the sewers?’ he asked. ‘Or
does the keep have a separate outfall to the harbour?’

Neville laughed
again and Jimmy reflected that the old coot was getting a lot more
pleasure out of this conversation than he should be.

‘How
should I know?’ Neville demanded. ‘Ye think I follow me
piss to see where it goes? The hole’s only this big!’ He
held his hands up to indicate a circle the size of a dinner plate and
Jimmy’s heart sank again.

‘Hey!’
Neville said and gave the boy a poke. ‘Maybe the Upright Man
knows a way out of the prison. Why don’t ye ask him?’ And
he laughed wildly.

The young thief
rose and started to walk away.

‘Hey!’
the beggar screeched. ‘Where’s my money?’ He held
out a skinny hand.

Jimmy flipped
him the single silver he’d first offered.

‘Hey!’
Noxious Neville cried. ‘Yer s’posed to gi’ me more!
That was the bargain.’

“The
bargain,’ Jimmy said coldly, ‘was that if I thought your
information was worth more, I’d give you more. Give me
something I can use.’

The old man made
grumbling noises and glared at him, but something made Jimmy wait.
‘Leads to the sewers,’ Neville finally conceded. ‘But
the tunnel’s half caved in, ain’t safe.’

‘And the
drain?’ Jimmy asked. ‘Can someone get down there?’

Neville turned
his head this way and that, as though protesting the continued
questioning, then he nodded. ‘Drain used to be bigger,’
he admitted. ‘Filled it in a bit wi’ bits of stone and
mortar they did. Shaft’s big enough for someone skinny. Give it
a coupla good kicks and the drain’ll fall open, big enough for
someone to crawl down if’n he don’t have too much girth.’

Light broke in
Jimmy’s mind and he stared at the old beggar. ‘You’ve
used it!’ he accused. ‘You used that shaft to escape!’

Neville broke
out in a flurry of crazed motions meant to indicate
go away and
leave me alone or there’ll be trouble—
a move he’d
perfected over a long career of dealing with the public.

Jimmy stabbed a
finger at him, unimpressed. ‘Stop it!’ He glared until
the old man settled down and glared back at him. ‘Now,’
he said evenly, ‘tell me what I want to know and if it turns
out to be the truth, I’ll give you this.’ He flashed a
gold coin for a fraction of a second. ‘If it turns out you’re
lying, you get nothing.’

A gold coin was
a fortune to a man like Neville; it would get him fifty flagons of
ale—a hundred if he stuck to the really vile stuff sold in the
Poor Quarter. He sat sucking his gums and thinking it over.

‘Why not?’
he said at last. ‘Not like’s a secret worth keeping. I’s
a thief once, ‘n young. They caught me, wasn’t easy.’

Noxious
Neville’s face took on a slackly reminiscent grin and just when
Jimmy thought he’d have to shake him to bring him back to the
here and now he began speaking again.

‘I was
gonna hang.’ Neville spat again. ‘But I knew if I had
time and patience I’d get out. There’s a grille,’
he said, pointing down with one dirty finger.

Jimmy glanced
down automatically then grimaced and looked back at the old man.

‘Not too
big, mind, but me, I could.’ Neville wriggled where he sat,
arms working above his head as though squeezing through a tight
space. ‘M’shoulders come apart,’ he said and gave a
wheezing laugh at the young thief’s look of doubt.

Not that Jimmy
hadn’t heard of such before, but it was hard to believe the
human wreck before him would have such a useful attribute.

Neville slapped
his knee, laughing and after a moment he went on. ‘Those days
the grille wasn’t even mortared, they di’nt think anybody
could get down that shaft.’ He shook his head, grinning.
‘Wished I coulda seen their faces wh’n they come fer me.’
He chuckled.

Jimmy nodded.
‘So where is it?’ he asked.

Neville stared
into space, one finger tracing the air as he tried to remember the
route. ‘Take the fourth shaft at Five Points,’ he said
uncertainly. ‘No, no, take the second—’ He went
silent, gazing. Suddenly he was more animated. ‘Go toward
dockside, always go for the lower way . . . no, no, that leads to the
fullers. Don’t want to go there.’ He huffed impatiently.
‘I know how te get there,’ he said impatiently, ‘I
jes’ never had to tell anybody how to get there.’

Jimmy stood.
‘Show me then. It’ll be easier.’

The old beggar
looked at him as though Jimmy had suggested he strip to his
loin-cloth and dance on a table.

‘Not fer
me!’ Neville said. He waved his flagon. ‘I’ve got
all my comforts here.’ He looked around and waved a hand as
though to indicate the cosiest surroundings in the city.

Leaning close
enough to singe his nose hairs Jimmy said, ‘Four silver above
the gold if you show me.’

Neville chewed
his gums, looking at nothing, and didn’t answer.

Jimmy chewed his
upper lip impatiently, aware that Neville held the upper hand. What
he had to do now was get the upper hand back before the beggar
bargained him to bankruptcy.

‘I’ll
buy a half skin of wine for the trip,’ Jimmy offered. ‘You
can keep what’s left once we get there.’

‘Full
skin,’ Neville countered.

‘Half.’

‘Full!’
the old beggar snapped. ‘S’a bit of a slog.’

‘Done,’
Jimmy said and somewhat reluctantly, held out his hand.