Black Iron by Franklin Veaux & Eve Rickert

Author:Franklin Veaux & Eve Rickert [Veaux, Franklin & Rickert, Eve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thorntree Press
Published: 2018-07-06T07:17:57+00:00

18

In his office in the London Municipal Police headquarters at Whitehall Place, Commander Skarbunket of the London city police was strongly considering becoming Civilian Skarbunket of Bugger All This.

He held his head in his hands. “With all due respect, sir, this is all going to go sideways.”

Sir Benjamin Fieldman, Chief Inspector of the London Metropolitan Police, was harboring similar thoughts about the joys of civilian life. But he had his orders, delivered personally by the Lord Chancellor himself. What could you do?

“Your concern is duly noted,” he said. “Nevertheless, this is the way it will be. Your investigation is suspended pending the resolution of this crisis.”

“My investigation, sir, is at a critical juncture. I have just returned from Highpole, where the Queen’s Guard was assisting me in following up on a murder. One that, I need not remind you, sir, appears to involve the Lady Alÿs, which as I’m sure you’re aware, adds a whole layer of political sensitivity to the matter.”

“All the same, as of this morning, your investigation is suspended. Sensitive or not.” The chief inspector passed his hand over his forehead. “You and your men will be in Highpole at six o’clock this evening, where you will enforce the curfew in accordance with the dictates of the Council of Lords. Am I clear on this point?”

“Very clear, sir,” Skarbunket replied. He massaged his temples and thought longingly of a quiet life somewhere far from the mess and stink of London. A farm, perhaps. A farm would be nice. He could raise sheep, maybe some chickens…

“Evening prayers are at six twenty tonight,” he said. “Should we try to prevent the Muslims in Highpole from attending their prayer service, sir, they will no doubt interpret this as a deliberate provocation. And I must say, sir, again with all due respect, I must say that I would be inclined to agree with them on this point.”

“So tell them to have their prayers before six,” Chief Inspector Fieldman said. “Problem solved.”

Skarbunket closed his eyes. Chickens, that was the ticket. Perhaps even some cows. Cows were good, right? He’d heard that cows were good. The worst thing he would have to worry about was wolves, barn fires, and attacks from roving bandits or invading Spanish skirmishers or roving Spanish bandits. Piece of cake.

“It doesn’t work that way, sir. Their religion is quite clear. They have daily prayers at certain times, and those times are not subject to negotiation. You would know this, sir, if you read the memos you signed. Like the one you signed three months ago, sir, permitting Muslim members of the Force to go on break for prayers.”

Fieldman’s eyebrows went up. “We have followers of Mohammed on the Force?”

“Yes, sir. Mister Habis, for one. You recently gave him a commendation for excellent service. You know the fellow. Tall, big smile, likes Mrs. Grindle’s meat pies…”

“Ah, yes, yes, right. I thought there was something queer about him.”

“And Sergeant Nadeem, the one with the crooked nose. I believe you once described him as a ‘credit to the Force,’ sir.

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