We fell in with an almighty splash. That wasn’t a problem for me, because I’ve spent half my life at sea. Mrs. Kefford, on the other hand, seemed to have no idea where to begin. While I shucked out of my skirt so it wouldn’t tangle my legs, she flailed around and made glugging noises, interspersed with cries for help. So I swam over to her, blocked her panicked attempt to grab hold of me (which would have dragged us both under), and got her turned around so her back was to me; then I slid my arms under hers and grasped her shoulders. I took a skull to my nose for my pains, because I forgot to keep my head to one side—I’m lucky it didn’t break again!—but then I was able to drag her over to the supporting beams for the dock above and persuade her to cling to those.
After that I scrambled back up onto the dock, trusting that Mrs. Kefford wouldn’t be going anywhere. Kudshayn was standing with one foot on Dorak’s back, pinning him to the ground, and panting more than a little; he also had one hand pressed to the opposite arm. “You’re hurt!” I said, leaping for him.
“His shot grazed me,” Kudshayn said. More than a graze, I saw, once he lifted his hand to let me see, but it wasn’t bleeding too badly as long as Kudshayn kept pressure on. I wanted to tear some cloth from my skirt to bandage it, but I’d left my skirt in the water (and the Twisel being what it is, I wouldn’t want that fabric touching an open wound anyway). I looked around for something to use, and that’s when I realized that Aaron Mornett was still tied to the chair, and I was in my soaking-wet knickers.
He had his eyes closed, I think out of manners. I went over to see if he had a handkerchief or anything else useful, when a sudden commotion at the Fibula Street door heralded the arrival of Constable Corran and several others for reinforcement. I dodged behind Aaron’s chair, using him as my fig leaf, and that’s why we made such an odd tableau when the cavalry came charging in.
I realize, much too late, that this is not exactly the cool and factual account I was probably supposed to write when they asked me for my witness statement, but it is true to the best of my knowledge and belief and I made this statement knowing that, if it is tendered in evidence, I will be liable to prosecution if I wilfully stated in it anything I know to be false or do not believe to be true.
Audrey Camherst
5 Acinis, 5662
DISSENTING SPEAKER REMOVED
Kefford’s Party Disavows Leader
Tablet Scandal Grows
Charges “Preposterous,” Kefford Insists
In a move many have been predicting for days, the Mairney Party have removed Mr. Henry Kefford from his position as Dissenting Speaker in Her Majesty’s government. This follows in the wake of the Tablet Scandal, which connected Mr. Kefford’s wife with the notorious antiquities smuggler Joseph Dorak, the bombing on Hemminge Street, the murder of Hadamist leader Zachary Hallman, and the forgery of a Draconean text meant to discredit that people in advance of the Falchester Congress, which will begin in two months.
At present the police deny any intention of charging Mr. Kefford with criminal offense, but he has been brought in for questioning in connection to his wife’s activities.
His final speech from the podium denied all wrongdoing on his part or his wife’s, dismissing the allegations as “preposterous” and “politically motivated.” Following Mr. Kefford’s removal and the ratification of Mr. Rupert Storrs as his successor, Mr. Edward Deering read out a communication received from the Akhian government, condemning the deceptions practiced by Marcus Fitzarthur, Lord Gleinleigh, who is rumoured to have faked his recent discovery in the Qajr. Mr. Deering then brought a motion to censure Lord Gleinleigh, which passed with a fifty-five percent majority.
Mrs. Kefford remains unavailable for comment. She is believed to have retired to her family’s estate in Rill, following her release on bail.
FROM THE DIARY OF AUDREY CAMHERST
12 Acinis
I have been avoiding this for days. But that is cowardice, so today I went to the prison to see Aaron Mornett.
In my defense, I have pages of diary entries to prove that I have been very busy since the nonsense at the warehouse. Back and forth from the police station to the Tomphries to Carrigdon and Rudge, making sure the broken tablets are properly cared for instead of vanishing into an evidence room, halting the translation, giving more testimony about everything under the sun, arranging for Cora to stay indefinitely at Clarton Square, and oh yes, dealing with an avalanche of family very determined to confirm that I have not broken the Camherst tradition of inexplicably surviving my own bad decisions.
And today I had particular reasons for being busy, since Mrs. Kefford has finally broken down and confessed. It’s almost a formality, really, since Dorak wasted no time in turning on her and pouring out the whole sordid mess, but we learned a few things we didn’t know before—like the fact that she didn’t actually send Hallman to bomb the annex. To destroy the tablets, yes; but he’s the one who decided a bomb was a good way to do that, using the information Gleinleigh had passed along. He might still be alive if he hadn’t, because he wouldn’t have pushed her into such a panic that she sent him to Fibula Street with instructions for Dorak to “take care of him.” She claims that she meant for Dorak to get him out of the country (which is what Hallman seems to have expected), but I don’t think anybody believes her except for Mrs. Kefford herself. She couldn’t quite bring herself to say “kill him” at the time, so now she’s persuaded herself that isn’t what she meant.
Gleinleigh appears to have been very much Mrs. Kefford’s tool. She only recruited him after it became apparent that the tablets she bought from Dorak could be turned to her own ends; she judged, quite correctly, that he would be a more trustworthy face for the whole enterprise than she could be. Had she tried to hire me or Kudshayn herself, she never would have gotten anywhere. I can take some vindictive satisfaction in Gleinleigh being at least part of her undoing: as I noted months ago, he is the sort of person who can’t resist “improving” on everyone else’s plans, and at several turns (the extra tablets in the cache, the airfield confrontation) his elaborations left openings for us to figure out the truth.
I don’t know yet what will happen to all of them. Dorak’s warehouse proved to be full of illegal antiquities—not just Draconean, but from many parts of the world—so between that and all of them energetically pointing fingers at each other, there’s no question whether they will be found guilty of at least some of their crimes. Mr. Kefford’s party has removed him from his position, so the scandal has already done some good in undermining their credibility, regardless of the legal outcome.
But I was going to write down what happened when I went to see Aaron Mornett.
(I keep vacillating as to how I should write his name. Looking back at the things I’ve written lately, I see that I’ve been wildly inconsistent—because after everything that’s happened, it’s hard to feel distant from him. But at the same time, I don’t exactly feel friendly, either. I called him Aaron to his face; that will have to do.)
He is being held in prison until trial, because he doesn’t have the money for bail and nobody cares to help him with that. But since he isn’t suspected of being involved in Hallman’s murder, they allowed me into his cell . . . leaving me unsure which was more awkward, conversing with him through the bars, or being forced by geometry to stand only a few feet away.