Garofar led Drusher up to the fifth floor.

‘Old place,’ Drusher remarked.

‘Yes.’

‘Unoccupied?’

‘Before us, yeah, for years.’

‘Nice views,’ said Drusher, pausing to look out of one of the window slits.

‘I suppose.’

‘I bet you get a lot of hill-browns up here. Pine finch. Crosshammers. Goldhawks. And lots of charhoops in autumn.’

‘I couldn’t say,’ said Garofar.

Drusher shrugged and continued climbing the stairs after him.

‘What happened to Voriet’s face?’ Garofar asked.

‘I attacked him with an eagle,’ said Drusher.

Garofar stopped.

‘Really?’ he asked.

‘Not really,’ Drusher replied, ‘but that appears to have become the narrative, despite my attempts to correct it, so I’m just going along with it.’

The flaking stone steps led up to a landing where the floor was boarded with wood. It had once been polished, a fine surface, but water damage from the leaking roof had stained it, making it patchy and rough. Buckets and other open vessels had been set at strategic points to catch drips. Some were so full, puddles were spreading around them.

‘Along here,’ said the deputy. ‘Mind your step.’

‘They haven’t told me much,’ said Drusher.

‘About what?’

‘About anything. This matter. This case. This investigation.’

Garofar looked at him.

‘I get the feeling a lot of it’s classified, sir,’ he said.

‘You don’t know?’ asked Drusher.

‘I’m just local law, sir,’ he said. ‘Staffing, support, you know.’

‘So it’s classified by the ordos, then?’ asked Drusher, more to himself.

Deputy Garofar’s manner suddenly became keen. He looked Drusher in the eye.

‘So they are from the ordos?’ he asked. ‘Inquisition?’

Drusher nodded.

‘Yes. I saw a badge. Voriet identified himself. Didn’t you know?’

‘No,’ replied Garofar. ‘They don’t say much about anything. The marshal was already investigating this case when they sort of turned up and took over. She’s cooperating. It’s not like her to just roll over. It feels like they have something on her.’

‘Not Macks,’ said Drusher.

‘You know her?’

‘From way back.’

‘Well, I suppose if they are from the ordos, that would explain her compliance,’ said Garofar, ‘her eagerness to assist. I mean, that’s how it works, doesn’t it? The Inquisition has authority everywhere.’

‘As I understand it. What was the case?’

‘Sir?’

‘The case Marshal Macks was investigating?’ asked Drusher.

Garofar hesitated.

‘Oh, come on, Deputy… Garofar,’ said Drusher, pausing slightly to squint and read the officer’s name badge. ‘I let slip they were from the ordos. It’s your turn. Like you said, they’re playing it close. Even my old friend Macks.’

Garofar shrugged.

‘There was a death. Last winter. A farmer found the body. Open and closed, really, or should have been. Ursid kill.’

‘Ursa minora gershomi?’ said Drusher. ‘Or majora, I suppose? Or even a cave ursid, though those are rare these days?’

‘Sir?’

‘A banded ursid, or a big grey?’