Barnabas. “Isaak tried to bite one of the attackers,
isn’t that right, Fraulein?” The fraulein said “Ah, ja, stimmt ,” and all
members of McDoon & Associates. agreed that Isaak probably would
have slashed the man to death had she only been a little bigger or the
man a little smaller. Barnabas turned to Salmius Nalmius Nax and
asked once again for an explanation of the evening’s events.
Salmius Nalmius Nax cleared his throat. “It has to do with Yount,
and with the key, and the danger that surrounds the key.” Though her
head and arm throbbed, Sally strained to hear every word. Tom hardly
breathed. “We have watched McDoon & Associates for a long time.
I have been in London since just before your sister died, Barnabas.”
(Salmius Nalmius made a gesture with his left hand that the McDoon
household understood to be a sign of respect and mourning.) “I
am also known here by another name, as the merchant Oliveire de
Sousa, a trader who left Amsterdam during the revolution in 1795,
a trader with connections from Smyrna to Lisbon, from Antwerp to
. . . Hamburg. I have not been alone. This is my brother, not merely
the proprietor of a coffeehouse but one of Yount’s greatest military
leaders, Captain of the Fencibles: Nexius Dexius Nax.” He pronounced
it “Nex Dex Nax.” He spoke of the Piebald Swan as their hidden base of
operations, a haven from those who wished them harm. He said that
those same foes had taken an interest in the McDoons, which is why
the Naxes had sent for the McDoons earlier than expected.
“It’s
Fraulein
Reimer!”
Sally
blurted
out,
looking
away
from
the drowning men in the prints of the foundering East Indiamen.
“Fraulein Reimer has been our guardian all this time . . . isn’t that
right?” The others turned towards her. Fraulein Reimer blushed and
quickened the pace of her needlepoint.
“Yes,” said Salmius Nalmius. “The fraulein is a long-time ally of
ours. She has a more varied experience than you can guess. She has
been our chief source of news about you, and your chief guardian all
these years. You recall who recommended her to you at the start of
her employ?”
“Why, the Landemanns,” said Barnabas. “Of Hamburg.”
“Yes,” said Salmius Nalmius. “The Landemanns. We have worked
with them for two generations now, father and son. Both on the
matter of Yount, and incidentally on purely mercantile matters.
Oliveire de Sousa has done some profitable business with the firm
of Landemanns, if I may say so, especially in the matter of salt from
Cagliari and Setubal.”
“We know something of that business, sir, indeed we do,” said
Barnabas. “So you were the mysterious investor, the undisclosed
capital, that Lindemanns spoke of. Don’t I feel a capital chub-gudgeon for not knowing anything about any of this! Buttons and
beeswax!”
Sanford felt order returning, patterns reasserting themselves.
Sally, from another point of departure, felt the same. She stared at
the white boy threatened by the grey shark in the mezzotint, while
she said: “So what were they looking for here tonight?”
Salmius Nalmius spread his hands, his skullcap bobbed, its
magenta embroidery catching the candlelight. “The key,” he said.
The room fell silent, except for the “chock, chock” of the parrot.
Sally and Tom looked at Barnabas and Sanford. Barnabas quickly
told them about the entire package, was surprised (but not much) to
hear that the book was known to them.
Sanford stirred. “The dog, the man?” he asked.
Salmius Nalmius moved to reply but his brother the soldier put
a hand on his arm. Speaking in a low voice, Nexius Dexius said, “We
call him the Cretched Man, on account of the coat he wears.”
Barnabas interrupted, “The Wurm fellow? Is that him?”
“No,” said Nexius Dexius. “But the Wurm’s chief lieutenant. Very
dangerous. The thugs he used tonight, both here and in the street,
were just common London criminals. We were lucky.”
“I saw him!”
isn’t that right, Fraulein?” The fraulein said “Ah, ja, stimmt ,” and all
members of McDoon & Associates. agreed that Isaak probably would
have slashed the man to death had she only been a little bigger or the
man a little smaller. Barnabas turned to Salmius Nalmius Nax and
asked once again for an explanation of the evening’s events.
Salmius Nalmius Nax cleared his throat. “It has to do with Yount,
and with the key, and the danger that surrounds the key.” Though her
head and arm throbbed, Sally strained to hear every word. Tom hardly
breathed. “We have watched McDoon & Associates for a long time.
I have been in London since just before your sister died, Barnabas.”
(Salmius Nalmius made a gesture with his left hand that the McDoon
household understood to be a sign of respect and mourning.) “I
am also known here by another name, as the merchant Oliveire de
Sousa, a trader who left Amsterdam during the revolution in 1795,
a trader with connections from Smyrna to Lisbon, from Antwerp to
. . . Hamburg. I have not been alone. This is my brother, not merely
the proprietor of a coffeehouse but one of Yount’s greatest military
leaders, Captain of the Fencibles: Nexius Dexius Nax.” He pronounced
it “Nex Dex Nax.” He spoke of the Piebald Swan as their hidden base of
operations, a haven from those who wished them harm. He said that
those same foes had taken an interest in the McDoons, which is why
the Naxes had sent for the McDoons earlier than expected.
“It’s
Fraulein
Reimer!”
Sally
blurted
out,
looking
away
from
the drowning men in the prints of the foundering East Indiamen.
“Fraulein Reimer has been our guardian all this time . . . isn’t that
right?” The others turned towards her. Fraulein Reimer blushed and
quickened the pace of her needlepoint.
“Yes,” said Salmius Nalmius. “The fraulein is a long-time ally of
ours. She has a more varied experience than you can guess. She has
been our chief source of news about you, and your chief guardian all
these years. You recall who recommended her to you at the start of
her employ?”
“Why, the Landemanns,” said Barnabas. “Of Hamburg.”
“Yes,” said Salmius Nalmius. “The Landemanns. We have worked
with them for two generations now, father and son. Both on the
matter of Yount, and incidentally on purely mercantile matters.
Oliveire de Sousa has done some profitable business with the firm
of Landemanns, if I may say so, especially in the matter of salt from
Cagliari and Setubal.”
“We know something of that business, sir, indeed we do,” said
Barnabas. “So you were the mysterious investor, the undisclosed
capital, that Lindemanns spoke of. Don’t I feel a capital chub-gudgeon for not knowing anything about any of this! Buttons and
beeswax!”
Sanford felt order returning, patterns reasserting themselves.
Sally, from another point of departure, felt the same. She stared at
the white boy threatened by the grey shark in the mezzotint, while
she said: “So what were they looking for here tonight?”
Salmius Nalmius spread his hands, his skullcap bobbed, its
magenta embroidery catching the candlelight. “The key,” he said.
The room fell silent, except for the “chock, chock” of the parrot.
Sally and Tom looked at Barnabas and Sanford. Barnabas quickly
told them about the entire package, was surprised (but not much) to
hear that the book was known to them.
Sanford stirred. “The dog, the man?” he asked.
Salmius Nalmius moved to reply but his brother the soldier put
a hand on his arm. Speaking in a low voice, Nexius Dexius said, “We
call him the Cretched Man, on account of the coat he wears.”
Barnabas interrupted, “The Wurm fellow? Is that him?”
“No,” said Nexius Dexius. “But the Wurm’s chief lieutenant. Very
dangerous. The thugs he used tonight, both here and in the street,
were just common London criminals. We were lucky.”
“I saw him!”
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