“He betrayed us for a disappointingly small sum of money,” continued Sult, his lip curling with distaste. “I daresay Kault would have given him ten times as much, if he had only had the wit to ask. The younger generation really have no ambition. They think they are a great deal cleverer than they are.” He studied Glokta with his cool blue eyes.
“Your secretary has been disciplined?”
The Arch Lector placed his glass carefully down on the table top, the base barely making a sound on the wood. “Oh yes. Most severely. It really isn’t necessary to spare him any further thought.”
“He seemed the only possibility,” muttered Glokta, but immediately regretted it.
“Seemed?” The Arch Lector clicked his tongue in profound disapproval. “No, no, no, Inquisitor. Seemed is not good enough for us. In future, we’ll have just the facts, if you please. But don’t feel too badly about it—I allowed you to follow your instincts and, as things have turned out, your blunder has left our position much the stronger. Kalyne has been removed from office,”
“The two of you are not the greatest of friends, eh, Glokta?”
“He is a jailer, not an investigator. He is not interested in guilt or innocence. He is not interested in truth. He tortures for the thrill of it.”
“Oh, come now, Glokta. Are you telling me you feel no thrill when your prisoners spill their secrets? When they name the names? When they sign the confession?”
“I take no pleasure in it.”
“And yet you do it so very well. In any case, Goyle is coming, and whatever you may think of him, he is one of us. A most capable and trustworthy man, dedicated to the service of crown and state. He was once a pupil of mine, you know.”
“Really?”
“Yes. He had your job… so there is some future in it after all!” The Arch Lector giggled at his own joke. Glokta gave a thin smile of his own. “All in all, things have worked out very nicely, and you are to be congratulated on your part in it. A job well done.”
Glokta cleared his throat. “Magister Kault mentioned something interesting before his unfortunate demise.”
“Go on.”
“The Mercers had a partner in their schemes. A senior partner, perhaps. A bank.”
“Huh. Turn a merchant over and there’s always a banker underneath. What of it?”
“I believe these bankers knew about it all. The smuggling, the fraud, the murders even. I believe they encouraged it, maybe ordered it, so that they could get a good return on their loans. May I begin an investigation, your Eminence?”
“Which bank?”
“Valint and Balk.”
The Arch Lector seemed to consider a moment, staring at Glokta through his hard, blue eyes.
“No,” snapped Sult. “Those particular bankers are well connected. They are owed too many favours, and without Kault it will be difficult to prove anything. We got what we needed from the Mercers, and I have a more pressing task for you.”
Glokta looked up.
“No.” The Arch Lector swatted Glokta’s words away with his gloved hand. “That business could drag on for months. I will have Goyle handle it.” He frowned. “Unless you object?”