“The Watermen were worried that the poor cove we found in the nets might have been knifed by a spider boat working the quays, so they put out a description of the dead man to see if anyone recognized it and could put a name to him. The river water made this hard, since by the time they pulled him out he was tending to the blue and bilious, if you see my meaning, sir. But he had a little kink in his wrist, just here.” The constable pulled back his cuff, and rubbed at the knob of his wrist bone. “A most particular kind of a kink, and one of the porters on the jetty remembered seeing a barge captain with just such a kink.”

Clent wore a patient and polite expression, as if the high matters of his poem were calling to him and he was trying not to hear them.

“So we went down to Dragmen’s Arches,” continued the constable, “and we found out that barge skipper had not been seen for about a week, and we heard his first mate was bowsing at the Wide-eyed Kipper. So we searched the mate out at the Kipper, and one of my men laid a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. And quick as you can blink, the fellow looked up, saw us in the Duke’s colors, and threw his stew at my head. He was a right dog for a fight, and it was only when we had three men sitting on his chest that we got any sense out of him.

“He had it in his head we’d come to arrest him for smuggling, and swore his own soul black as a kettle, laying curses on the pair he thought had cackled on him. A pair of passengers the barge had taken up at Kempe Teetering, was how he put it. I think his exact words were ‘a bloated viper with a lawyer’s pretty manners, and a ferrety-looking girl with unconvincing eyebrows.’”

Clent shifted uncomfortably at this unflattering description, and for an instant his eyes did have a furtive, viperish expression.

“He also mentioned a goose.” The constable looked meaningfully at the floor, which was strewn with tiny white feathers from Saracen’s grooming and the pale blots of his droppings.

“Invaluable birds.” Clent smiled brightly. “Far better for guarding one’s domicile than a mastiff.”

“Mr. Clent.” The constable leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. “I hope you can understand my position. I have no wish to harass a gentleman in the pay of the Lady Tamarind, or to risk a scandal which might besmirch her name, but I cannot be in any doubt that you know this man Partridge, and know a good amount about his dealings. This whole business has become too serious to ignore.