A Novel by A. J. Hartley Page A

Seventh Street ten minutes. You can’t have known him.”
    â€œHe was going to be my apprentice,” I said.
    He pointed at me, nodding solemnly, as if this explained everything.
    â€œWas he sad to go?” I asked.
    â€œNot so far as you could tell,” said Deveril. “Kept himself to himself, you know? Didn’t really, as it were, socialize with the rest of the chaps. But no, didn’t seem sad.”
    â€œHow long had he been here?”
    â€œEight months. Maybe nine.”
    â€œAnd he came straight from the Drowning?”
    â€œThat’s right. His grandmother set it up when his mother died. Tough old bird, she was. Wanted a five-shilling finder’s fee for bringing him, if you can believe that. Never even looked at him while she haggled. I gave her two, and she left without another word to him. Just walked out and never looked back.” He gave a hard, knowing smile. “No one much cared about Berrit,” he said. “Till you. What’s that all about?”
    â€œWas anyone else involved in the Morlak trade?” I asked, ignoring his question.
    â€œLike who?”
    I shrugged. “Berrit told people he thought he was moving up.”
    Deveril gave me a shrewd look. “And you reckon that, Mr. Morlak not being everyone’s cup of tea, there must have been someone else involved to make little Berrit feel good about the move. Not that I know of, no. Though he said he had friends in high places.”
    â€œWhen did he say that?”
    â€œLast time I saw him. After Morlak had agreed to the trade, Berrit came back for his few bits and bobs. I had a little sit-down with him, make sure he was all right, you know?”
    â€œAnd he was?”
    â€œBetter than,” said Deveril. “Quite content, flashing around his advance wages.”
    â€œAdvance wages?” I parroted. That did not sound like Morlak at all.
    â€œMy thoughts exactly,” said Deveril. “That’s when he said it. I asked him where that had come from, and he gave me this look. Sort of sly, pleased with himself, you know? And he said, ‘Friends in high places, Mr. Deveril.’ Always very respectful was young Berrit. I appreciated that.”
    â€œDid his advance wages include this?” I asked, producing the sun-disk pendant.
    Deveril peered at it and grinned. “Nah,” he said. “Had that when he first came. It was his mother’s, he said. Only time I saw him really angry—and I mean serious, animal angry—was when one of the bigger kids took it from him. Boy went off like a cannon. They left him alone after that, I can tell you.”
    â€œAnd that’s all he said. ‘Friends in high places’?”
    â€œNot a word more, like it was his little secret,” said Deveril. “Like he wanted me to know he was moving up, even if he couldn’t say how. Ironical, really, ain’t it?” he added.
    â€œWhat is?”
    â€œWell, he did go up in the world, didn’t he?” said Deveril with a bleak smile. “Just came down again right quick.”
    For a second I just looked at him, then managed to say, “You have his grandmother’s name written down somewhere?”
    â€œWritten down?” he scoffed. “Nah. Writing is for the slow and clumsy. Me, I like to stay agile.”
    â€œMeaning you can’t read,” I said.
    He grinned. “Writing makes people sloppy,” he said. “Me, I keep all I need up here.” He tapped the side of his jaunty top hat.
    â€œIncluding the name of Berrit’s grandmother?” I prompted.
    â€œMinel,” he said proudly. “Minel Samar. Didn’t think I’d know that, did ya?”
    *   *   *
    AS I MADE MY way to the Drowning, I considered what I would say to Florihn and Rahvey. I could not take the child now. That was clear, blood oath or no blood oath. Things had changed in ways I could not have foreseen, and