it’s for the city?”
“I understand you are considering a run for the Mayorship .”
Perlandine raised an eyebrow. “I guess it wasn’t as tight a secret as I had hoped. Yes, I was considering making a run in a year or two. It’s all a matter of timing, I suppose.”
“Well,” Lyle said. “You’ve certainly made plenty of progress in law enforcement.”
“About as far as I can go, I’m afraid.”
“It’s a logical next step. And a fine city too, I might add.” Lyle puffed. “They’d be lucky to have you.”
Perlandine looked out the window again. An old man wearing the top half of a uniform stood begging on the sidewalk, invisible to the passersby. The Chief constable’s face sagged.
“It was,” he said. “It has certainly seen better days.”
“What amount of money,” Lyle said, “would it take to… make an impact on your industry?”
Perlandine laughed. “My dear Reverend,” he said. “I appreciate your ambition, but I doubt even you have that sort of bankroll.”
“Try me.” The smoke seemed to speak for The Reverend.
Perlandine froze as if he were about to be run over by a cart full of gold bars. “It… It would be substantial… in the billions.”
The Reverend Lyle Summers didn’t flinch. Instead he calmly took the cigar out of his mouth and looked at it again, a stream of smoke leaking from the corner of his mouth. Perlandine sat back in his chair and stared at the Reverend.
“What is in it for you?” he asked. “I sincerely doubt that this is all being done in the name of charity.”
“Let’s call it an investment,” said Lyle.
Something in the conversation shifted. A shadow seemed to fall over the Reverend’s face as his cheeks caved in, puffing. When he finally released the cigar from his mouth, he looked directly at Perlandine. The Chief Constable felt something prickle at the base of his neck.
“I’m sure you are aware of the recent fire that occurred in what you call the ‘Industrial Wedge,’” Lyle said, his eyes, seeming colder somehow.
“I am,” Perlandine said, leaning back in his chair. It creaked. “The Gutter Wedge. A good place to go if you want a good whore, or an illegal substance. I hear you can get your palm read if you aren’t afraid to be arrested.”
“Then I am sure you are aware of the spiritual malaise that has plagued this city for a decade or so.”
“I’m not much of a religious man,” Perlandine said. “I leave that business to the archbishop. I deal with more… material transgressions.”
“The archbishop is well aware of that,” Lyle said. “My point is this: the presence that has lived like a cancer in your city has escaped, and unless it is stopped, this disease will get worse for everyone.” He scratched at his arm unconsciously.
Perlandine laughed. “Well, as I said, Reverend, I am not a religious man. But I think I know whom you are talking about. This ‘Lynn-witch’ woman is dead I take it?”
“Killed in the fire,” said Lyle. “I believe that her daughter may have fled to this Lassimir pirate colony.”
Perlandine raised an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure?”
“You tell me if you can think of another city that would let her in,” Lyle said. “Also, it’s closer than any city-states, the next one being Rhinewall.”
“ Ahh ,” Perlandine said. “Let me see if I understand what you are suggesting. So you believe that if you deliver Lassimir to me, I will in turn, deliver this girl to you. What if she escapes?”
“Flushing the game, so to speak,” Lyle said. The end of his cigar glowed red. “I suggest you take a closer look at the opportunity I am handing you.”
“I suppose that next you will tell me exactly how you intend to invade an inaccessible and quite mobile city.”
“I’ll get to that,” Lyle said. “But first I want to make sure that I and The Church can count on your support. I assure you, this will reflect well on your run for Mayor should it
“I understand you are considering a run for the Mayorship .”
Perlandine raised an eyebrow. “I guess it wasn’t as tight a secret as I had hoped. Yes, I was considering making a run in a year or two. It’s all a matter of timing, I suppose.”
“Well,” Lyle said. “You’ve certainly made plenty of progress in law enforcement.”
“About as far as I can go, I’m afraid.”
“It’s a logical next step. And a fine city too, I might add.” Lyle puffed. “They’d be lucky to have you.”
Perlandine looked out the window again. An old man wearing the top half of a uniform stood begging on the sidewalk, invisible to the passersby. The Chief constable’s face sagged.
“It was,” he said. “It has certainly seen better days.”
“What amount of money,” Lyle said, “would it take to… make an impact on your industry?”
Perlandine laughed. “My dear Reverend,” he said. “I appreciate your ambition, but I doubt even you have that sort of bankroll.”
“Try me.” The smoke seemed to speak for The Reverend.
Perlandine froze as if he were about to be run over by a cart full of gold bars. “It… It would be substantial… in the billions.”
The Reverend Lyle Summers didn’t flinch. Instead he calmly took the cigar out of his mouth and looked at it again, a stream of smoke leaking from the corner of his mouth. Perlandine sat back in his chair and stared at the Reverend.
“What is in it for you?” he asked. “I sincerely doubt that this is all being done in the name of charity.”
“Let’s call it an investment,” said Lyle.
Something in the conversation shifted. A shadow seemed to fall over the Reverend’s face as his cheeks caved in, puffing. When he finally released the cigar from his mouth, he looked directly at Perlandine. The Chief Constable felt something prickle at the base of his neck.
“I’m sure you are aware of the recent fire that occurred in what you call the ‘Industrial Wedge,’” Lyle said, his eyes, seeming colder somehow.
“I am,” Perlandine said, leaning back in his chair. It creaked. “The Gutter Wedge. A good place to go if you want a good whore, or an illegal substance. I hear you can get your palm read if you aren’t afraid to be arrested.”
“Then I am sure you are aware of the spiritual malaise that has plagued this city for a decade or so.”
“I’m not much of a religious man,” Perlandine said. “I leave that business to the archbishop. I deal with more… material transgressions.”
“The archbishop is well aware of that,” Lyle said. “My point is this: the presence that has lived like a cancer in your city has escaped, and unless it is stopped, this disease will get worse for everyone.” He scratched at his arm unconsciously.
Perlandine laughed. “Well, as I said, Reverend, I am not a religious man. But I think I know whom you are talking about. This ‘Lynn-witch’ woman is dead I take it?”
“Killed in the fire,” said Lyle. “I believe that her daughter may have fled to this Lassimir pirate colony.”
Perlandine raised an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure?”
“You tell me if you can think of another city that would let her in,” Lyle said. “Also, it’s closer than any city-states, the next one being Rhinewall.”
“ Ahh ,” Perlandine said. “Let me see if I understand what you are suggesting. So you believe that if you deliver Lassimir to me, I will in turn, deliver this girl to you. What if she escapes?”
“Flushing the game, so to speak,” Lyle said. The end of his cigar glowed red. “I suggest you take a closer look at the opportunity I am handing you.”
“I suppose that next you will tell me exactly how you intend to invade an inaccessible and quite mobile city.”
“I’ll get to that,” Lyle said. “But first I want to make sure that I and The Church can count on your support. I assure you, this will reflect well on your run for Mayor should it
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