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There had been an almost palpable sense of relief in the room when I agreed to remove the briefcase. Clathy and her grandmother were afraid of something, something they had not told me, perhaps even something they could not even articulate, but I would bet my bottom dollar that it had something to do with the death of Merton Vale. It was a Clue, a Clue so big and obvious it could mean one of a million things. The kind of Clue that attracts attention, advertises itself, warps people and events around it. A dangerous Clue. No wonder the ladies wanted shot of it. The briefcase felt unnaturally light in my hand, almost as if it was empty. I tried swinging it around and shaking it - gently, naturally enough, I didn't want the glamour to think it was under attack - but there was no evidence of movement of the contents. Perhaps there really was nothing in there, but then why bother with the elaborate protection? Even though I had agreed to take the damn case off their hands, I was not yet sure what to do with it. I could return it to the widow Vale but I reasoned that, if Merton had really wanted his wife to have the case, he would simply have left it at home. Besides, her liaison with Hosh was worrying, especially if the briefcase did turn out to contain papers relating to Hosh's accounts - the very material that the mysterious blackmailer was trying to extract. Difficult questions would definitely be asked, probably by some of Hosh's less friendly associates and possibly with the aid of sharp instruments. Alternatively, I could take the case to someone associated with Vale's firm. The obvious candidate was Old Man Madderfy himself, but the links to Mrs Vale (nee Alva Madderfy) and the younger Madderfy in the office also worried me. It might be nothing, it might be something. And I might be able to find out more, without getting myself killed in the process. I strode back in the direction of the transit tubes trying to look assured, even nonchalant, as I marched along swinging the expensive-looking case in my hand. I couldn't decide on the course of action. I needed to think it over and, in the meantime, I need to keep the thing safe. My office was still out of bounds, probably for a week or more given the lazy nature of Homicide cops. They might spend an age there, investigating every little detail, prying into my files and sneering at my cheap furniture and cheaper booze. More likely, they would have given the place a cursory once-over, but would not be bothered to tell me they had done until I badgered them a time or two. I never kept anything important at the office anyway and I certainly didn't want to turn up there clutching the case, on the off-chance that Luncardy or one of her cronies were still hanging around. Indeed, the cops would doubtless take a less than rosy view of my omission of the briefcase from my statement. They would want to retain it as material evidence, no doubt, but I was was pretty certain that if the cops got their sticky fingers on it, it would never see the gloom of day again. I could take it back to Clunie, which is where Vale had left it, in her supposed safe-keeping. She was probably still able to handle the briefcase, although I was not so sure that it would be particularly safe there. Perhaps that's what I should do anyway, but it might not get me any closer to discovering who killed Vale, and who had been blackmailing him. The only real option was either to take the case home with me, which seemed too obvious, or to ditch it in one of those hideaways both secret and secure that I use to retain certain personal items in long-term storage. I decided on the latter, at least for a few hours. I had the acquaintance of one or two people who might help me find out more, perhaps even open the thing, one or two experts in that high art that humans insist on calling magic. Of course, anyone who might even consider dealing with me would have to be just a trifle shady, to have just a little skeleton in some corner of their closet. In fact, a few moments thought revealed to me, I knew just the one to help me out.
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Part 22