A Children's Tale Page 13

  "Inspector Kincade." Hunter said pleasantly.

  "Good evening to you, Captain Hunter. It seems your information was indeed correct." The police inspector said with a smile. "Given your accusations, it was a hard story to believe. But it seems to be quite true given what we've overheard so far."

  With great interest, Hunter was watching the fight between RiBeld and the police that had just now finished, with RiBeld the loser. "Quite, indeed. I'm only glad you were willing to humor me in this."

  "Well, a charge of murder and attempted murder alone is enough to merit attention, despite the other fantastic claims you made. We're in your debt on this." He offered his hand to the captain.

  Hunter accepted it and shook it briefly. "The thanks are appreciated, Inspector, but they may be somewhat premature."

  "How do you mean?"

  Hunter pointed at the bloody, growling visage of RiBeld. "That isn't Archibald RiBeld."

  "What?" Von Patterson screeched, confusion and panic evident in his eyes. "I've been set up!"

  "Quiet you." Growled the constable.

  Von Patterson looked about, eyes wild. "They cannot get me. What they will do will be horror. I cannot be found."

  The constable pulled Von Patterson a short distance away with another order for the man to control himself.

  The inspector looked incredulous at Hunter's statement. "Preposterous! I've seen the man myself. I've met him through state functions many times, and he is here as you said he'd be."

  "Be that as it may, and I daresay I don't know how he pulled it off to look so near perfect, that man there is only disguised as RiBeld. Let me offer you proof." Hunter walked forward towards RiBeld, who glared daggers at Hunter.

  The captain pointed at RiBeld's right hand. "When he and I last met, I broke his right wrist in the fight with my left hand." Hunter tugged the glove off his left hand to reveal the intricate brass and leather artificial clockwork hand underneath. The gears turned methodically with a dull whir and click. "We watched that man lift a glass and grab Von Patterson with that very same right hand. If broken, he shouldn't be able to do that, and if healed by some strange arcane means, there would at least be a scar or a faint residue from the process. He must likewise be wearing a disguise."

  Kincade considered this a moment. "Loosen the man's wrappings. Just enough to see this."

  The nearest constable nodded and reached for RiBeld's bandaged right hand. The man's eyes went wide with fury and panic. In a surge of strength, he shoved the constables aside and lunged for Hunter. "I'll kill you!"

  Hunter backed away, but not quick enough. RiBeld slammed into the captain and the pair smashed into a table, spilling drinks across the pub. Immediately behind them two constables lunged to recover RiBeld. Inspector Kincade likewise grabbed for the man.

  In the fight, the bandages had come loose. Instead of revealing a scar, broken skin or bruise, his wrist was completely undamaged. The inspector frowned. "Well, this is most unusual. Not a hint of a scar or any sign of a break. However, if you do have the likeness of RiBeld, so you'll be coming to the Yard with us for quite a long chat anyway. We'll have a specialist come around to check you for any arcane healing you might have gotten, 'Archibald RiBeld' or whatever your name really is."

  "Inspector," one of the constables who held the fake RiBeld said. "Best take a look here."

  The constable tightened his grip and forced RiBeld's head to one side. There, just barely visible under some well-applied stage makeup, was what appeared to be a seam sewn into the man's skin. Hunter stepped back in shock, eyes wide while Inspector Kincade gasped.

  "Just what are you?" Kincade asked astounded.

  "Nothing any of you will comprehend!" The fake RiBeld snarled, an insane rage boiling behind his eyes. "They'll come for you, all of you!"

  Slowly, the constables led out the whimpering Von Patterson from the pub. Behind them, the fake RiBeld was bodily hauled away, all the while hurling insults and curses at both Hunter and Kincade.

  "So the villain remains at large, eh? Unfortunate, that." Inspector Kincade said solemnly with a sigh to regain his composure. "All of this only tightens the noose on his neck. We'll see what we can glean from the impostor, including what he actually might even be. If we're fortunate, we'll have the real RiBeld in hand soon enough. It seems he's much to answer for here. As much as Von Patterson."

  "Equally so, Inspector, equally so." Hunter commented.

  Kincade nodded, then stuck out his hand again. "Quite. Be that as it may, thank you again for the assist. We may have some questions for you as well, since you and your crew were witnesses as much as victims of this."

  "We've only put into port here. We'll be available for many days yet. Just send word and we'll be at your disposal." Hunter said while he shook the inspector's hand again.

  "Good man. Well, good evening to you then." Kincade said before he vanished through the door.

  Hunter followed along silently. Outside, he paused beneath the sole street lamp of Smithy's pub. The muted click of clockwork mechanics and gears echoed in the air. A dull, yellow light shone around, muted by the fog and soot of the close. He withdrew a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. It had been shoved there when he struggled with the fake RiBeld. He had not felt when it happened, only that it was suddenly there after the scuffle had finished. He replaced the glove over his clockwork hand and slowly opened the note.

  "Oh captain, my captain,

  The true game is about to begin.

  We are not nearly done with our 'dance'.

  A. RiBeld,

  Blackheart League"

  Hunter frowned and closed a fist around the note. The chill from a sudden updraft of wind blew off the waterfront with its smell of stale fish.

  "Then let the game begin."

  About the Author

  C. B. Ash holds degrees as a Physical Scientist and Computer Scientist. Since college, he has run his own networking business, worked as laboratory technician, taught martial arts, and traveled for several years as a software engineering consultant.

  During that time he has written several fantasy and science fiction short stories, a fantasy/murder mystery novel and several poems. One of which garnered him the Emily Dickinson Award in Poetry. His first novel, Kinloch, was published in May, 2004. Tales of the Brass Griffin: A Children's Tale is in the Tales of the Brass Griffin series. To find out more, visit: http://BrassGriffin.com.