Read Online Ten Little Wizards: A Lord Darcy Novel by Michael Kurland, Randall Garrett - Free Book Online

the ‘prentices back to the ovens with the panniers of bread; and we, the rest of us, go outside the shop to wait for him.”
    “You didn’t touch anything in the shop?”
    “No, no. Certainly not. Not after the body was found.”
    “Very thoughtful, thank you,” Lord Darcy said. “You know we like to have the scene of a crime left as pristine as possible for our investigations.”
    Master Bonpierre shuddered slightly. “It was not forethought, you understand. It was simply lack of desire. We all wished to be outside the shop while that body was inside it.”
    “I understand,” Lord Darcy said. He looked around at the others. “Tell me, did any of you recognize the corpse? Have any of you ever seen him before?”
    There was a murmuring of negatives from the four bakers. None of them had ever seen the corpse in life, to the best of their recollection. And none of them ever wanted to see such a thing again, thank you.
    “Thank you all very much for your assistance,” Lord Darcy told them. “An armsman will be by sometime later to take full statements from each of you. Please do not let this upset you, it is merely our routine.”
    Lord Darcy walked through the kitchen ware shop, nodding politely to Goodwife Brewler, who made a curtsy so deep that she must have thought that he was at least a royal duke in disguise. The back alley was just that, a back alley. It was narrow, paved, and swept clean. There appeared to be no entrance other than the back doors of the shops on both streets and the gate at the far end. A small table was against one wall, with several chairs around it; where, Lord Darcy guessed, some of the shopkeepers shared cups of caffe and a game of cards on a quiet afternoon.
    The back of the baker’s shop was as described. There was a door, which had no keyhole and was bolted from the inside, and a window about seven feet off the ground, which had recently had all the glass broken from its frame. On the ground to the left of the door, under the roof overhang, were a stack of old and well-used straw panniers, which had worn out in the baker’s service. They were not doing too well in the almost-constant rain.
    Lord Darcy contemplated hoisting himself up and peering through the broken window, but decided against it. Whatever there was to see, he could see much better from inside, when Master Sean was ready for him. He returned through the kitchenware shop to the street.
    The tubby little forensic sorcerer emerged from the bakery shop about ten minutes later, his cabalistically-marked carpetbag in hand. Putting it carefully down to the side of the door, he wiped both his hands carefully on a bleached white cotton handkerchief which he pulled from his sleeve. “You can go in now,” he told Coronel Lord Waybusch. “I’m done for the nonce. Mind you, don’t disturb anything. Be especially careful about the covered brass bowl on the tripod, it’s still quite hot.”
    “I have no interest whatever in going in,” Coronel Lord Waybusch said firmly. “I shall leave that to Lord Darcy here. No point in my mucking around when I have the services of two such experts as yourselves.”
    “Ah, Your Lordship,” Master Sean said, turning to face Lord Darcy. “I didn’t see you standing there. Would you like to see what there is to be seen?”
    “I would indeed,” Lord Darcy said. “I have been admirably patient, Master Sean, and kept out of the shop while you were busy. Now let us go in together and I shall look things over while you tell me what happened.”
    “As I’ve told you before, my lord, I am but a magician, not a miracle worker,” Master Sean said. “I may be able to give you a few indications as to what took place, but don’t expect a lot of detail. Forensic sorcery needs facts to work on; and when the facts aren’t there, the greatest magic in the world cannot create them.”
    “All that I ask, my dear Master Sean, are the facts you have assembled and any logical surmises you can make