THE SHERIFF OF HNUT / CH. 26: FALLOUT

EDITORIAL: CHANGING MY MIND ABOUT COLOURS? — TANDETHA

I've written before about how dyes help people to avoid being pigeon-holed, suffer from stereotype prejudices and so on.

I've written before that the noble lines are no more and the constitution needed updating. I've been proven horrendously wrong about those things. Am I wrong about dyes and colours being of no importance too?

Certainly, for some people, dyes just make the world more complicated. Especially when it comes to romance and marriage.

So, there are noble families, and if constitutionally the heir to the empty throne must marry a pure-blooded noble, then at least some nobles have to marry nobles. They'd do well, of course, to try to undo the breeding programme and breed non-belligerence into their lines, as the past few generations of thanapolis have been doing. There are also zerkers, able to leap to the defence of others. Stop thinking duels, they are illegal, instead think life. A zerker a can do a lot of good in the event of a growler attack, for instance, and the village of Hnut is very glad of its zerker sheriff. If everyone mixes up their genetics then we lose zerkers. We also lose yellows, as they only come from the union of a pure-blooded blue with a pure-blooded red or orange female. Is it important to have yellows? Yes, because some yellows have the unusual ability to hear the thoughts of those around them and to communicate with certain blessed ones of the aliens who taught us wizardry.

And what of pure-bread greens? Having done a quick survey of both the watchmaker's guild and the guild of accountants and bookkeepers, I notice that their most exceptional members are from pure-bred green ancestry. Take wizards, for example. There are born-red wizards, born-green wizards and born-blue wizards. And some of the reds are very red indeed: pure blooded nobles from families who can trace their lines back to the pre-conquest breeding programme that gave the thanapolis talons, and some of the blue wizards and wizardesses know that for them, everyone else seems to get slow and clumsy when there's an emergency. But they have no doubt who their brightest member is, and her born-green ancestresses have only married born-green guys as far back as anyone has cared to research.

I do not deny that there are some really exceptional examples of growler-headedness and stupidity among the pure-bred as well as the exceptionally gifted, but in the last few weeks I've been privately asking people at the top of their professions about their background. About half of these exceptional people are pure-bred, in each birth-colour. Considering that pure-bread people account for less than a tenth of the population in the city now, that's an astounding percentage. And before anyone says, oh, it's because of wealth, my second question asked about their parent's income when the were young. The numbers are quite clear: If you want your children to be at the top of their profession, then moderate wealth (such that their education doesn't suffer) is a good start, though the very-rich are in fact worse represented than you'd expect from their general population. But if you're pure-bred red, orange, yellow, blue or green, then as long as you can send your children to school every day, marrying someone of your own birth-colour is far better than marrying for money.

I note something: while the general population in the city seems to head towards being totally colour-blind, teachers complain that their students aren't as bright as the previous generation. The college of Wizardry observes no such issues, maybe because only the most curious and able apply, but it also seems to have a far greater numbers of pure-blooded members than the general population: seventy percent are pure-bred, or 'almost pure' — one grandparent the wrong colour. Why is that? Is it that by rejecting past prejudices we have rejected some science too? Is it that by becoming colour-blind, or over-using dyes, we are slowly becoming grey — losing valuable traits that God gave us? And did you know, for example, that statistics show couples whose colours 'cross the mountains' as they used to say, struggle to conceive far more frequently than those who 'stay on their own side'?

I am not an expert on these things, I'm just an orange reporter who's learning them for the first time.

The northern nobles (including, no doubt, some of my relatives on my father's side) wished in the past to suppress the accounts of their usurping power over the southern counties. Now, perhaps, we are grown up enough to acknowledge that period of history happened. Are we also grown up enough to value and cherish differences, rather than become universally grey?

Students of linguistics will know that 'Tandetha' is Old Northern for 'Pain of the Tan'. Well, it's not my real name, and the real source of past pain for the Tan will shortly be facing the consequences for his actions. While I'm talking about the controversial subject of colour genetics, I'll point out that Tagelah and Talinth of that forward-thinking clan are very sweet yellow hatchlings. Will they be able to marry in colour, I wonder? The wizards hope so, and Tanepoli has decreed that the clan leadership will only be inherited by a yellow. You may safely assume that Tanepoli, in allowing me to write this, has her own firm views about dyes in connection to her daughters.

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HNUT, MOTHERDAY, 13TH WINTER, ALMOST LUNCHTIME

“Kand,” Keldi called, “Sorry for interrupting your cooking, but at some time when it's convenient...”

“You're hungry?” he guessed.

“No, I'd like you to take this plate away and tell the good doctor I've stopped eating.”

“Are you excited, beloved?” he asked.

“I can't move, Kand. I don't think excited is the word. But I'm looking forward to having eggs to hug. Go fetch the doctor please, Kand. I don't think it's going to be six hours, or even two. And then come and pray. I hate to think what'd happen if my last egg cracks.”

“I expect talons versus forcefields, my love. The doctor has a personal field now.”

“Forcefields near my eggs?” Keldi was aghast.

“Around any of our eggs you entrust me with, beloved. And the doctor's field is Magz's version. It's not going to cut anything.”

“Yours will.”

“Beloved, if you are holding eggs and one breaks, who will protect the unbroken ones from your talons?”

“You cut them off if it happens, Kand.” They'd discussed it years before, when the egg that became Lanthi was laid. In the event of Keldi's talons coming out, Kand should cut them off, no matter the risk to Keldi.

“Sithini made a suggestion: metal finger-caps and, of course, gum. Would you like to try it?”

“Not right now.” Keldi said, “call the doctor, Kand, and get back in about thirty seconds, just in case. Then we'll see if finger-caps might cause trouble or reduce risks.”

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QUIF'S FAMILY HOME, THE CITY, MOTHERDAY, LUNCHTIME.

“You sent me a note, Quif?” Sithini asked.

“Yes. For some reason I thought you might want to see you this.”

“Quif, you can't have finished your masterpiece so soon!” Sithini said, “And if there's gum involved then I'm going to get cross. It's busy-time in Hnut.”

“No gum. This is Kinnet's first watch after his journeyman piece.”

“Oh! He passed? That was only last week, wasn't it?”

“He passed. I passed on your suggestion of tissue paper and involute gears, and he asked me how I got my holes in the right place. I don't know why his master never told him otherwise, but he's been trying to drill his top and bottom plates separately. Not just without any screws joining them, but entirely separately and to judge the hole positions after mounting the gears on their axels. He thought anything else was as bad as using a pantograph.”

“Poor man!” Sithini exclaimed.

“Happy man, now. But I expect he will be asking the guild if he can to switch to a new master.”

“Have the police found who's putting fake guild stamps on rusty watches?”

“Knarf was getting them from an intermediary, who it seems got a tip off and has vanished. But there have been some people ejected from the guild for unseemly conduct. Almost certainly one of them has a secret workshop somewhere.”

“Well, my person-finder still works, and I'm not opposed to providing limited assistance to the police with reasonable conditions. Just not this week. How's Lanthi's watch-face painting doing?”

“She's got fairly steady hands, and is a quick learner, which is urm, fortunate, mum says. Have you met her friend Aneth?”

“I've heard about her. She's in your mother's painting class too?”

“Yes. Except that she came to the second session with her designs entirely ready, asked about techniques, had no problems following the instructions and didn't rush ahead of herself like Lanthi tries. So Aneth's finished hers and is now helping to keep Lanthi calm. I suggest that you consider talking to her as a potential recruit. Lanthi was suggesting wizardry when Aneth said that she much preferred this to her dad's job. Aneth wasn't sure, but I know you said that a lot of what you did in wizardry was like careful painting. I'm not saying that a watch-face painter isn't a possible career choice, but...”

“I guess it doesn't pay as well as a master watchmaker?”

“Not that well at all, no.”

“OK, I don't mind recruiting. How's her maths?”

“No idea. I'd assume she can remember what to do and how.”

“Always helpful, that. But so's recognising the challenge. You didn't need to count those sixty-one teeth on the bad watch, did you?”

“Not to spot they were wrong, no.”

“That's a useful skill. Anyway, get back to work, Quif.”

“Sithini?” Quif asked, nervously.

“Yes?”

“What's it like up in Hnut?” Quif asked. “I mean, I'm city-born. I've never faced a growler, or cut down a tree for firewood, or anything like that.”

“Or used an out-house?” Sithini asked.

“It sounds disgusting.”

“It's a bit draughty, and if it's not built properly it can be smelly. But there's going to be piped water and sewers eventually. What you need to remember is there's space. Your road here, has what, fifty families living on it?”

“Fifty houses, but a lot of them are split, up and down, so probably eighty families.”

“In the village, it'd be five homes, tops. The village school has fifty pupils.”

“That's bigger than I thought. There must be more than one teacher per year, I thought there'd only be one.”

“Not per year, Quif. Fifty in the whole school, two teachers. One pastor, one church, one shop, one sheriff shared between four villages, or maybe five, I can't remember.”

“One bank?”

“No. There are banks in Uttown and Qnut, but not Hnut.”

“A bar?”

“What for?” Sithini asked, being deliberately provocative.

“Pardon?”

“It's a God-fearing village, why would anyone encourage raucous behaviour? People might buy something special from the shop for a special occasion, but it's a small village and a farming community. Some people make beer, and others would bring snacks to an after-church chat, but good neighbours don't let their friends get drunk.”

“Wow. And growlers?”

“Growlers don't come down to the village, not normally. There are plenty of little fluffies for eating up in the woods. And people warn each other, of course.”

“It's going to take a lot of getting used to.”

“Is this you having second thoughts, Quif?” Sithini asked.

“No, not really. Just lying awake worrying sort of thoughts.”

“You could study here in the city. Really, the Hnut school is for people who'd be concerned about city life.”

“But you're going to be up in Hnut.”

“Probably. The intention is mainly to move young researchers up there. But I can travel easily enough, if that's what's worrying you.”

“I'd like to try living there. Is that going to be acceptable?”

“You'll have to ask Dirak, but almost certainly from his point of view.”

“Dirak?”

“It was universally agreed he'd be the school director, and now the school is about five times bigger than he planned no one's asking him if it might be too much work, in case he says yes and offers them the position. The bigger question in my mind is if there'll be space for you here if you can't fit in there. So, when you've finished your masterpiece, you probably need to talk to Lanthi's dad, Kand, about what he'd recommend. He's admissions tutor here.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Everyone says places are limited, should I wait?”

“Yes, because you need to finish your masterpiece, and once you've offciially talked to Kand, then there's going to be forms to fill in and reading to do and tests to take. The new school will probably have a lot less paperwork to start with.”

“Why?”

“A lot of the paperwork is to do with being taken on as an apprentice. Here, people apply to become an apprentice, and then get an ASC after a year as part of that training. There people will be applying to study for a ASC, and when they get it they'll decide to go to other roles or apply to become an apprentice. By which time, of course, lecturers will know the students and there's no need for outside references. Speaking of which, I suggest you name me or Dirak, and your pastor as references. Perhaps Keldi, since she saw you dealing with what's his name.”

“Your reason for naming three wizards?”

“Is that it's much easier for Kand to talk to us, of course. It's not very fair but an excellent candidate with referees that Kand just can't get hold of before the decision date just isn't going to get in. You will be applying later than most, so naming hard-to-contact referees would put you at a disadvantage.”

“When is the decision date?”

“Decision date is the tenth of spring, unless that's Restday or Sisterday, in which case it's moved a day or two earlier. A list of results is posted first thing the next morning, and new apprentices can move into the college any time from then until the start of term, which the following Earthday.”

“So if the tenth is Skyday, term starts on the eleventh?”

“No, It'd start a couple of days later, I expect. But it isn't Skyday, it's Fatherday.”

“I hadn't worked that out, sorry.”

“That's OK, Quif. How is your masterpiece going?”

“Father agrees my gears are good. And that escapement wheel number seven still isn't good enough.”

“Ah. And your plates?” Sithini asked.

“Are drilled, but not yet polished to the real mirror-finish that I'd like to attain. And of course I need to do the jewels too.”

“More work to do, in other words.”

“Yes.” Quif agreed. “It's scary.”

“Too much to do, or the future's too uncertain after? I'm looking forward to getting to know you better, Quif, but if you're having second thoughts, tell me, OK?”

“I just don't understand what you see in me,” he said. “And I don't want to accidentally break it.”

“'It' being your watch, or my easily explainable desire to cultivate our friendship?”

“Is it easily explainable?”

“Yes. I don't know many green guys, Quif. None of the others are as clever as you, none of the others make watches, none of the others have known me as long as you have, all but one of the others are scared by my brain. You seem able to get over that and treat me like a person.”

“But you know guys who aren't green.” Quif protested.

“And some of them are even friends, yes. But if I marry someone who's not green, Tathinilakiina, my first daughter, might not be green-turned-red, and that would really upset parliament, Keldi and Lanthi. What do you think of uncertainty?”

“Uncertainty is scary,” Quif said, not sure what lay behind that question.

“So if you know any non-relatives whose families have lived in Tatin for generations, it wouldn't hurt to prompt them about the double moon in spring. Or at least to marry their intelligent caring believing girlfriends. I'm talking about greens, of course. You can also tell them that marrying other colours makes conception hard, too many dried hynberries are bad for your eyes and just a couple will temporarily ruin your colour vision and big clutches come from long dances.”

“You're making some jumps, Sithinilakiina.”

“Step one, we get to know each other better. Step two we decide we know each other well and it'd never work, or decide that with God's help we're going to be able to make it work and we want it to. Steps three to eight assumed obvious, no? Betrothal, Engagement and house-building, marriage, dancing, eggs, school, step nine Tathinilakiina will need a nice clever green believing husband too, preferably from Tatin, who's probably ought to be laid in the next year. Hence the advice about hynberries.”

“Why Tatin?” Quif asked, his brain sticking at that point.

“Thousands of years of tradition states Tathinilakiina should look for her nice kind clever believing husband in Tatin, just like I hope her nice kind clever believing father is going to be from Sittin. So, please finish your masterpiece, Quif. We're both busy right now, but once your masterpiece is finished then I'm going to be claiming a lot of your time in the interests of getting rid of uncertainty.”

“Can we pray?” Quif asked.

“Of course.” Sithini agreed, turning before she bowed her head so her feathers didn't accidentally caress his crest. Which, now the hynberries had worn off, she'd noticed was quite a nice colour indeed. She pulled her thoughts back to praying. Please, God? Can I have Quif? And bless Keldi with a safe delivery.

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TANEPOLI'S FAMILY HOME, TATIN, MOTHERDAY 13TH WINTER

“Hello, daughter. What's this deputation for?” Talinth the elder asked. “If you've all come to wish me a happy hatch-day, you're early. It's next week.”

“Mother, you gave me life, my name and rule of this clan, and I thank you for those things. You will recognise our clan's lawyers, I'm sure. This good sheriff is Wizard-at-large, Zerker Dirak. I would like answers. Dirak has come because Tathig has named you as accomplice.”

“Has he now? And you'll finally believe me when I say yet again I had nothing to do with the kidnapping, will you? Daughter, you know I didn't agree with you marrying who you've married, and you're just plain crazy to bring the trouble of winterborns into this world. But I'm not going to challenge my own daughter to a duel, nor do anything that merits you challenging me. You're the poli, like I told you when you were sixteen, you're the bastion of our honour.”

“You asked me to order some 'small statues', samples of full size ones.”

“Did I? Oh yes, horrible gaudy things. Like some perverted prince had designed them. I told Tathig he could send them right back. Tasteful he said they were. Tasteful? Girls with nothing but feathers on? Disgusting's more like it.”

“So what happened?” Tanepoli asked “You sent it right back yourself?”

“I told Tathig to get rid of the whole lot, crate and all. You can ask at his office, I pushed my way into some idiotic meeting, and told him to get rid of them or I'd shred his crest for bringing the disgusting things into my house.”

“Thank you, mother. Next question, what convinced you to order them in the first place?”

“Tathig, of course.”

“Mother, you normally do the exact opposite of what Tathig asks.”

“Of course I do. I'm his big sister.”

“So?”

“So he said that he wanted to make amends for past mistakes and be helpful. That's what he said. He said that he'd seen the catalogue years earlier, and spoken to the owner, who was a friend of a friend, and was sure there'd be something in the collection that I'd like. What's this got to do with this officer being here?”

“Final question, mother. When did you know that Tathig had sent Tagelah and Talinth to the hool?”

“Know? I didn't know. I didn't know that he'd murdered Taresha, I just suspected. I didn't know that he'd tried to kill my innocent little granddaughters, or I'd have burned him myself. I was waiting for him to tell me, and looking forward to seeing his face when he realised just how unhappy I was with him.” Turning to Dirak she said “I suppose as a Wizard you know how to deal with this safely? I don't think I need to mash it into Tathig's crest any more.” She pulled out a glass perfume bottle from her pocket. It was in three parts, one contained an oily looking liquid, another other held a dull looking lump, the third a very fluid liquid.

“Oh, wait a bit, you'll want the receipts, too, I'm sure. Tanepoli, they're in my dresser, in the red envelope.”

“That's where you keep your will, isn't it?”

“Yes, dear. It seemed appropriate. Don't play with it inside, young man, you're putting my granddaughters' lives at risk.”

“Strong acid and sodium?” Dirak asked, curiously.

“And ether, yes.” Talinth said. “I was just waiting for his gloating face to confess to treason against the clan.”

“I expect Sheriff Dirak might have some questions, mother. I think mine are over.”

“You loaded the bottle yourself?” Dirak asked.

“I was careful,” Talinth said.

“These receipts say over a year ago.” Dirak said, looking at the papers Tanepoli had given him.

“He told me, when Tanepoli got engaged, that 'he knew what steps to take'. I said, yes, we pray they only dance in spring. Then the poor little mites were hatched, and I thought he might he might suggest I 'take steps' too. I wanted to be ready. But I never knew. If I knew, he'd be dead. Probably me too, of course, but I wanted to be ready to purge that sort of evil from our clan.”

“Talinth of the Tan, you would have me believe that you considered yourself a protector of the innocent, and not a threat to them. Why then, did you not inform anyone of your suspicions about your brother?”

“Because there are no thought hearers any more, just like there are no pure-blooded nobles any more, according to some people. Winterborns are a myth, a thing from times past. There was no hool, either, that ancient evil has passed into the stories of past horrors. We're civilized now. I would have been called an old fool, would I not? And then been rightly accused for attacking an officer of the law for the insult.”

“And if you'd gone to wizards?”

“What's the point? They wouldn't have done anything.”

“A certain Wizardess tells apprentices every year to tell her if they hear even a rumour of yellows born in winter. You may risk telling her that she wouldn't have done anything if you like, but I don't recommend it, as her name is Keldithanapoli.”

“I didn't know Keldi's interest in winterborns, obviously. And then of course the little ones vanished. And I told all the clan members, including him, that the clan was dead unless Tagelah and Talinth were returned, because I knew Tanepoli wouldn't be backing down on her clear policy. No matter how crazy it is.”

“Thank you mother, for your confidence in my stubbornness, if not my wisdom.”

“You're noble, daughter. We're really good at stubborn.”

“Especially us Tans. Taresha lives, and is a little less non-confrontational than her mother, but just about as stubborn in it as any clan-member. All three of her boys are winterborns. The world has not ended, trouble does not follow her like a lost fluffy.”

“Ha! Wait until they get to school!”

“The oldest of them will be trying hard not to cheat during his ISC exams in a few weeks. He's in the same class as Lanthithanapoli, which is how I met him, his mother and brothers.”

“Up in the new centre of the world?” Talinth asked.

“Up in the old centre of the world, mother. Two hour's walk from the contest grounds that gave us our colour, and our Tan tenacity. In the matter of my policy, will you enter battle with me or against me, mother?”

“What do you think that bottle was, daughter? It was meant to be a defence of your daughters. I'm so sorry I wasn't there, or I'd have shredded his crest and slammed it down his throat. I'm a Tan. We don't commit treason.”

“Tathig did.”

“Tathig was a nasty bullying manipulator not worthy of the Tan name, who never fought anyone who wasn't much weaker than him. He talked big, but he was a schemer terrified of being found out to be a fraud and a coward. That's why he married Crin, Taresha's poor mother; she wouldn't stand up to him and no one else would take him. I told Crin he was a nasty piece of work and it'd be better if she ran away than marry him, but the poor girl was half convinced by his flattery and scared of what would happen if she ran and he caught up with her. Of course he didn't want winterborns asking questions.”

“What happened to Crin?” Dirak asked.

Tanepoli answered, “About three years ago, they got invited on holiday with some of Crin's friends, including Endalinth of clan Ened. They were both on the same tour boat that sank. It was about the only time I've ever seen Tathig genuinely furious. The boat had left port without it's... what was it he called them, mother? Some kind of plug?”

“Bilge-plugs. They're a kind of drain plug, that I was told never to touch back when I was young. Without them the boat fills with water, anyway.”

“Was Tathig much of a boat person?”

“Tathig? No! Never went near the sea at all. I went boating when I was young, but it was one of the things he was afraid of.” Talinth said.

“So he wasn't there?” Dirak asked.

“No. Well, he was on the same holiday, but the party split, some of them went to sea to see the caves below the cliffs, he stayed on dry ground.”

“But he knew about the bilge plug being missing?” Dirak asked.

“He claimed to have found one where the boat had been on the beach, after it had left.” Tanepoli said. “The other captains agreed that no one sane would leave port without their bilge plugs, and the judge decided it was a fatal oversight by the captain, and a tragic accident.”

“Especially tragic for clan Ened.” Talinth said.

“Yes.” Dirak agreed “Perhaps you can help me understand something which has been puzzling me. I'm a bookworm and I've read plenty of historic novels and one genuine case where a clan was destroyed but for just one female, and she named her next daughter -linth and so the clan was reborn. How is it that Ened is considered a dying clan?”

“It depends how the last of the name-bearers died.” Talinth said. “If it was a formal duel or an accident, then the clan is dead. If it was murder or part of a blood-feud, then the next daughter to the clan is -linth.”

“Ah. And I assume the Ened clan-lawyers tried to prove the sinking was murder?”

“Clan Ened retained a single lawyer at the time, who was also a victim,” one of the lawyers said. “My cousin, to be precise. I think the clan was too shocked to contest anything.”

“You stated that Tathig's anger was out of character?” Dirak asked.

“He'd lost his wife,” Talinth said, “and as far as I know he was genuinely fond of her. But the normal Tathig response would be turn it into profit.”

“Maybe he did,” Tanepoli said, “and we just don't know how. His business certainly empire certainly grew a bit.”

“Talinth,” Dirak said, “I may have further questions for you, but for now I will not be arresting you.”

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SHERIFF'S OFFICE, HNUT, 13TH WINTER

“You've been gone a long time.” Lenepoli greeted Dirak.

“Not arresting Talinth the elder took a long time and led me all over the place. Clan Ened may not be a dead clan after all. Can you come with me to talk to Shashana's mother?”

“What, now?”

“Urm, first update me. News on Keldi?”

“Exhausted, but happily cradling four full-sized eggs. You're probably the last to know.”

“That's what comes of being down in Enton.”

“What's in Enton?”

“It's where Endalinth drowned. And Tathig's wife. Tathig was uncharacteristically angry. Raging about how it was all the captain's fault. I've been talking to the sheriff down there. He agreed that Tathig's rage had prompted him to close the case too quickly. He didn't know that one of Tathig's companies had been the insurer for the boat that sunk. The sheriff's declaration it was the captain's error let the company claim they didn't need to pay to replace the boat, and his widow couldn't afford the lawyers to challenge that, which meant poverty for her as well as bereavement. But it's worse than that. The insurance was new, an agreement signed by one of Tathig's employees only a few weeks before. The previous insurance was a lot more expensive, according to the late-captain's wife, and would have paid out for quite a lot to passengers, too. Also, the sheriff remembered Tathig's anger only started a day after the accident.

"The first day, apparently he had previously been talking about planning to bring the insurers to their knees for letting such a dangerous boat on the water. Then he allegedly went for a walk, found the bilge plug that ought to have been in the boat, and decided it was the captain's fault, not the insurer's.”

“You found out all that today?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Tathig had a paperweight on his desk, a piece of gum-soaked wood with a polished rim, to be precise, a bilge plug. Lanthi's friend got given it. It had a strange feature: it had a ring on the inner side with a string tied to it,

sorry, that's not strange, it's fairly normal apparently, to make sure it doesn't get lost. But in this case someone had cut a notch in the side so the string could pass to the outside of the boat. In other words, the string could be give a sharp tug, say as the boat left the quayside, and the plug would come out. Someone had fixed it for sabotage, and murder, in other words. And Tathig claimed to have 'picked it up on the coast the day before the accident.' So, maybe he swapped it, or maybe it was the original, but...” he shrugged.

“Tathig murdered his own wife?”

“No proof it was him, yet, but he had motive — the insurance money from the previous insurers. It wouldn't have been a massive amount for him, but he was also in the middle of an expensive court case against the other insurers at the time, with them claiming that he'd been competing unfairly. The case was dropped after the accident, and the other company backed out of the insurance business. I'll need to talk to them and find out what prompted that move. I expect it was that if they'd have won, they'd find themselves back as the insurers of the site-seeing boat and maybe paying out for the passengers, and they decided that would be too expensive.”

“You mean, he murdered his wife to stop the court case?”

“If they'd still been the insurer, then they'd be paying for a new boat and for each of the twenty victims, they'd have paid each two year's of your salary. Forty years' of a teacher's salary would have hurt them, I'm fairly sure.”

“Enough that they wouldn't be able to afford the court case?”

“Possibly. Like I say, I'd need to investigate more to know more.”

“Why do you need to investigate more?” Lenepoli asked “Can't you hand your evidence to the sheriff down in Enton? It's nothing to do with the hool, surely? You don't need to do everything!”

“I don't need to solve everything, no. But, the sheriff down in Enton can't formally reopen the case without the evidence I've gathered so far and a request to reopen it. Tathig was really careful to get all the family members he found to accept it was the captain's fault, 'for closure' he claimed. But as a resident of Gorp, Enana is in my patch and I'm assuming that she never signed anything from Tathig. She can therefore request the investigation be reopened.”

“And if the case is reopened, what does that do?”

“Apparently, if Endalinth was murdered, the clan can be reborn. I guess I ought to talk to Kand first, and get some advice about whether I tell her that.”

“Good idea.” Lenepoli said. “Tomorrow.”

“Can we at least find out if Enana signed anything?”

“No,” Lenepoli said, patiently, “you can come and approve what Sithini's done to the house, because I promised you would, and then you can eat, and then it'll be time for choir practice, remember?”

“Oh, it's that late already?”

“Yes”