The Cadaver Client

“Gra

Gra

“Good to see you as well. Do you have news for me?”

I fell into a slow amble beside her. The sky was bright and cloudless and blue. The gravewards gleamed white all around us.

“I do.” I retold Stick’s story, gave an accounting of money spent. I didn’t voice my own misgivings just yet.

“So, my shade has lied to us.”

“It seems that way, Gra

Gra

“Think you could ask him?”

“I intend to.” Gra

“Can you ask him now?”

Gra

Gorvis.

“I’m very much afraid I ca

“This is him, isn’t it?”

“First name H-O-R-A-C-E.” Gra

I frowned. “You believe so?”

“Like you, Mr. Markhat, I have my resources. I employed them with the aim of learning the true name of the spirit who called himself Sellway. These-resources have provided me with a first name and led me to this spot. This is not who the spirit claimed to be. I am as surprised as you are. Possibly more so.”

Gra

Gra

“We must go, Mr. Markhat. Now!”

“Why?”

That was as much as I got out before Gra

We made good time down the winding path to the gate, and through it, and onto the street, before Gra

I let her catch her breath.

“That. Was close.” She was gri

“What was close?”

“He almost saw us there.” Gra

“Who, the spook?”

“The spook, as you say. They often return to the location of their remains as they prepare to intrude upon our world. This one is no different.”

“Won’t he see us?” I could see the wardstone plain from where we stood. The hedges were not much more than sticks on the street side of the cemetery. I guessed that wagon-drivers let their ponies nibble on the foliage as they passed.

Gra

Gra

“So, his real name was Gorvis.” It wasn’t a name anyone had mentioned yet. Not that I was at all convinced by Gra

“He’s buried not far from your house, Gra

“It isn’t.” Traffic started picking up, so Gra

“I’m not a big believer in coincidence, Gra

“Nor am I.” She replied in a whisper between rants about spying spirits and groaning ghosts.

“I’m going to go out on a limb, Gra

Gra

“You go. You ask your questions. You get down off that roof, shade of Angus Fergis!” She said the last in a screech that caused pedestrians all around us to stop and search the rooftops for spooks.

“And when you’re done, come back. You and I will have business tonight. After Curfew. You and I and a man named Gorvis. Are you willing to do that, Mr. Markhat?”

“If that’s what it takes to earn my pay.”

“I see you, shades of the Lowrey twins! I see you peepin’ in them windows!”

Gra

I said my farewells and headed back to Regency Avenue.

The first thing I did after arriving at Regency was present myself to the biggest pair of Owenstall’s bullies I could find.

They knew my name, and they knew I had the blessing of the boss himself. One of them even went so far as to suggest a place or two some of the older folks might be at the moment.

Oh, what a difference a few words from Mama had made.

I thanked them and started making my rounds. This time, I wasn’t concentrating on the name Sellway, but on Gorvis.

And I wasn’t having much better luck, either. Blank looks. Shakes of the head. Frowns and creased brows and ultimately, variations on the theme of no.

I expanded my search, no longer just talking to people of a certain age and above. I talked to kids. To their parents. To their na

One of Owenstall’s bullies brought me a sandwich and a glass of tea sometime well after noon. He even wished me luck.

I had the blessing of the local muscle, but none whatsoever from Lady Luck. I pondered that as I chewed. I’d seated myself on a bench under the largest of the poplars that lined the avenue. It offered scant shade, but I’d learned long ago to take whatever comfort I could get.

The sandwich, at least was good. And the tea was cold and dark.

So I was more than a little a

I swallowed and put the rest of the sandwich down, lest it too be cast into the street.

“Whoa,” I said. I did not stand. I could tell from the expression of my tea-tosser that he’d just knock me down if I did. “Look, gents, you need to check in at the head office. Owenstall himself said I could ask my questions. And this sandwich and that tea were his, by the way.”

“I don’t know any Owenstall,” snarled my new friend. He made his hands into fists. “But I do know you.”

“Are you sure? Because to know me is to love me. Trite, but true. It’s my i

I didn’t get to finish, because I was hauled to my feet by the two silent gentlemen.

I’d assumed they belonged to Owenstall because of their dress. They weren’t common street thugs. Their shoes were shined, their shirts were pressed, their trousers actually fit and someone had ironed the wrinkles out not too long ago.

I didn’t struggle. That made the third man frown. People were begi

I knew none of them expected that. The normal procedure in most of Ra

I gri

“You been poking around, finder. Messing in things that ain’t your business. Maybe it’s time you was taught a lesson.”

“Maybe so,” I said amiably. “But it’s not one that’s going to be taught by you. Now here’s what’s going to happen. Your boyfriends here are going to let me go. You’re going to buy me another glass of tea. And then we’re all going to sit down and talk about who sent you, and why they sent you.”