Page 78 of Gates of Tartarus

“What?” I ask warily.

“That you stop brooding and come out with whatever’s got you in this enchanting mood.”

I take a moment. Why am I so out of sorts? There’s no way I’m going to admit to sexual frustration and jealousy, and besides, that’s not everything. I nod.

“It’s just… Well, we’re notgettinganywhere!”

“We are,” Seef remarks. “We’ve got a couple of leads now.”

“Yes, but,” I growl, “I mean. There’s Magda, but I can’t give a good description. And Tennir– thebalsak,” I amend at Seef’s cautioning look, making him grin. “We can’t pin anything on him. We’ve got bits and hints, but… It’s like finding a Roman mosaic with half the tiles missing, or, or a shattered statue, and we can’t tell who the goddess is because we’ve only got the torso and none of the attributes. And if I hear one more ‘enema’ from Magda, I really will lose it.”

“It’s clearly a code, but it doesn’t sound like any known language,” Emlyn concedes. “We’re working on it. Try to listen closely next time and come up with a parallel. Just like you did with her face.”

“That’s where ‘enema’ came from,” I sigh. “Yeah, OK. Well, at least Elizabeth says she’s going to try to set up another video call with thebalsak.”

“And she’s done a photofit for Maddox,” Seef reminds me.

“Though she says she doesn’t think it’s very good.” I worry at my bottom lip.

“And don’t forget there’s Robert,” Emlyn adds.

“Robert? Oh, yeah. Well, I think it’s pretty close. Maybe Elizabeth should work with our sketch artist? Any hits?” I ask.

Emlyn shakes his head: “We’re still running it through the system. Now, I think you’ve earned a drink. White wine?”

I nod, feeling a little bit more cheered. It’s nice that they’re trying to buoy me up, and they’re right. Wearemaking progress, even if it feels painfully slow. Emlyn’s soon back with my Chardonnay, and he and Jorge get into a discussion on rugby, to which Jorge’s a relative newcomer, while Kavi and Seef discover a mutual love of craft ales. I bob back and forth between the conversations, not saying much, just happy to listen. It seems almost odd when we go home at the end of the evening, Seef going one way and the four of us the other.

Going Medieval on a Pumpkin

Friday, 23 November – Maela

Ican’t believe I forgot about Thanksgiving. There’s been a lot going on, I know, but still. After the flying pea incident and the spag bog out of a jar, the guys must be having serious doubts about my cooking skills. Kavi and Jorge are regular Jamie Olivers in the kitchen, and even Emlyn, weird fondness for Cheez Doodles notwithstanding, has shown he can turn out a perfectly cooked soufflé. I decide I’ll whip up a turkey feast, complete with all the trimmings, this weekend. It’ll be me, the guys, and Seef, because, well, because. He’s part of the team.

There’s been a development when I meet up with Emlyn and Seef that afternoon. I prance into the office, feeling high on sugar from the slice of caramel cake Jorge bought me at lunch, to hear that they’ve had a hit on Robert. Magda’s latest lover, it appears, is not merely a rich businessman but the Honourable Robert E. Deveraux, M.P. and junior finance minister.

“Fliiiiiip,” I say. “Do you think she–”

“Knows?” Seef interjects. “I’d put money on it. Kronos appears to be cultivating friends in high places.”

“Bit of a risk, though,” I remark. “After all the trouble she went to to keep Ratko and his gang from identifying her, hooking up with an M.P. seems like a great way to get caught. Mr. Deveraux can now identify her.”

“He might,” Emlyn observes, “and we’ll ask him, but he may not be willing to cooperate.”

“Why wouldn’t he? He’s a member of government.”

“Exactly,” Emlyn says with a wry smile, “and a married one at that. Mr. Deveraux, it appears, has been on a fact-finding mission to Anguilla, the Virgin Islands, and the Caymans, Her Majesty’s Government having a pressing need to investigate offshore banking and rum exports.”

“Ah.” I wrinkle my nose. “And you think–”

“He’s unlikely to admit to adultery and consorting with an international criminal for the sake of being civic-minded? No. We’ll get his itinerary and a list of hotels and see if Magda’s been caught on camera, but I doubt very much that our friend Robert will provide any real help.”

“Well,” I sigh, “at least we’ve got the photofit Elizabeth did. We might be able to get a hit from that. Magda’s clearly not an amateur. She must have appeared on the radar of some law-enforcement agency at some point, somewhere, mustn’t she?”

“Possible,” Seef grunts. “Although Kronos have proven remarkably difficult to track. No one’s turned, and the only positive ID we have is for Tennireef. Well, we’ll reach out to the Greeks – thanks to Cole we’ve got a last name for Magda – and see if anything comes back. Have to say, though, Driscoll, you were being generous when you said she looked like Charlize Theron.” He shows me the screen. The woman in the sketch is reasonably attractive but nothing special. It’s not much better than my own effort.

“Well,” I say defensively, “Elizabeth did say she found describing Magda difficult. And a sketch doesn’t really convey character, does it? Sex appeal isn’t limited to looks.”

A flash of blue fire before he looks away. “No. That it isn’t.”

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