Leximandra Reports, and other tales Read online

  ‘Er. I’m here to see Lady Glostrum.’ Lexi lifted her chin and tried to look confident.

  ‘Is her ladyship expecting you, miss?’ The butler’s voice was faintly rusty, as if he hadn’t used it in some time.

  ‘Er, no,’ Lexi replied, her composure floundering. ‘Not exactly. I mean, I’m here from The Society Week.’ The butler made no reply. ‘It’s a newspaper,’ Lexi explained hopefully. ‘Weekly articles on all the latest society news, with a fashion supplement once a moon.’

  ‘Her ladyship is not at home,’ the butler replied.

  Lexi didn’t believe him. ‘Please. I really need to see her. My job depends on it. I won’t anger her, I promise! I just want to ask her a few questions.’

  She thought she detected a slight softening of the man’s features, but he remained unmoved.

  ‘Her ladyship is not at home.’

  ‘Not even for five minutes?’

  ‘If you would care to leave your card, I will inform her ladyship that you called.’

  Lexi stared at him helplessly. The likes of her didn’t carry calling cards! He knew that, of course. Her hope faded and she stepped back.

  ‘All right,’ she said tiredly. ‘Sorry to have bothered you.’ She trotted back down the steps and into the street.

  When she was sure that the door had closed behind the butler, she stopped walking and took her image-capture device from her shoulder bag. It was a complex piece of machinery, brand new: its manufacturers were calling it The Depictioner, and the name had already become a byword among journalists. It was expensive. If she lost or damaged it, Brysold would have her head.

  She shook off her short cape and sat cross-legged in the street. Balancing the Depictioner on her knee, she used her one arm to wrap it up carefully, binding it with ribbon. Surveying it critically, she had to admit that it did not look that much like a special delivery. But if she did not show it too closely to anyone, it would pass.

  Gathering her resolution, she found her way around to the rear of the building and knocked at the much less imposing servants’ entrance.

  The rear door was answered by an alarming young woman with a red face and a mass of frizzled black hair.

  ‘Yes?’ she snapped. Her eyes roamed over Lexi’s frame, and on seeing her missing arm the woman - undoubtedly a kitchen maid - sucked in a shocked breath.

  Lexi felt herself becoming stubborn. At least the butler had had the decency to pretend he hadn’t noticed.

  ‘I’ve a delivery for her ladyship.’

  ‘Hand it over.’

  Lexi stepped back a little, snatching her parcel out of reach. ‘Boss says I’m to deliver it into her ladyship’s own hands.’

  ‘He does, does he?’ The woman’s eyes narrowed. ‘Which delivery company are you from?’

  ‘Er...’ Lexi thought fast. ‘BPS. Brysold Parcel Service.’

  ‘Haven’t heard of it.’

  ‘That’s because it’s new.’

  The woman shook her head. ‘I ‘aven’t got time for this, all right? Just hand it over and be on your way.’

  Lexi sucked in a breath. She hated to do this, but... desperate measures were called for.

  She adopted her pathetic face.

  ‘Please ma’am,’ she said in a pitiful voice. ‘I’m new on the job and Boss says if I get this one wrong I’m out. If that happens I’m on the street. Boss says to follow his instructions to the letter, or else.’

  She was quite good at looking pathetic, all told. It wasn’t a tall order. She watched as the woman’s eyes travelled to her stump of an arm and back to her face.

  ‘Fine,’ she growled. ‘But make it quick. Stayne will conduct you upstairs.’

  Stayne? Who was Stayne? She hoped it wasn’t the butler who had answered the front door to her, or she was in trouble. She waited nervously as the kitchen maid went out of the room. When the woman returned, she was followed by a different man - younger, though wearing a similar uniform to the butler’s. Probably a footman. Sighing inwardly in relief, she tried to smile as Stayne approached, hoping to reassure him that she wasn’t a threat.

  Except I am, in a way.

  Stayne merely eyed her, then turned and beckoned to her. Lexi followed him through the house and up an imposing staircase, trying to swallow away her nerves.

  ‘Are you sure you can’t entrust it to me?’ said Stayne, sounding bored.

  Lexi shook her head vehemently. ‘Can’t. Boss’d kill me if he found out.’

  ‘Fine. Make it quick, though. I’m on door duty for the next half hour.’ He led her across the landing and stopped at a door which stood slightly ajar. Lexi could hear the sound of voices talking softly from the room beyond.

  Stayne knocked and waited. No reply came. He was about to knock a second time when the front door bell rang.

  Lexi hoped Stayne would leave immediately, but he didn’t. ‘Hurry up,’ he said coldly.

  The bell rang again, long and loudly.

  ‘Someone’s in a hurry,’ she observed.

  Stayne hovered for a moment, frozen with indecision. When the bell rang a third time, he made up his mind.

  ‘Wait here.’ He disappeared back downstairs, stepping smartly.

  Lexi suffered a moment’s indecision herself. How to proceed? Should she look around the house, try to discover something interesting that way? Or should she appeal to her ladyship’s kindness and ask for an interview?

  In the end she settled for something of both. Hastily unwrapping her “parcel” she extracted the Depictioner and slipped the strap around her neck. Grasping the thing like a shield, she tapped lightly on the door.

  Still no answer came.

  Lexi hovered, tapped again, waited. Nothing.

  Stayne’s smart footsteps reached her ears. He was on the stairs. What should she do? Accept defeat and return another time?

  No: not when her job was at stake. Lexi peeked inside.

  The handsome and expensively-furnished drawing-room was empty, but set into the far wall was another door. She slipped silently across the room, took a breath to raise her courage, and opened this new door.

  A short corridor lay behind, windowless and dark. Lexi stepped in and closed the drawing-room door behind her before Stayne could determine where she had gone. Pausing a moment to adjust to the nearly full darkness in the passageway, she cautiously groped her way through, keeping close to the wall. Night-eyes she might have, but even she needed some measure of light to see; it would never do to stumble here and alert someone to her presence.

  The soft murmur of words spoken in low tones caught her attention and she stopped. To her left was a door she had almost missed. It stood slightly ajar; the voices were certainly coming from beyond it. She pushed lightly against it, hoping fervently that it wouldn’t creak. A few more inches of space was enough: she put her eye to the gap.

  Her immediate instinct was to back away again.

  Idiot, she told herself. This is what you came for!

  She was looking at a sumptuous sitting room, softly lit with flickering glass light-globes hovering in corners and near the ceiling. Lady Glostrum was present, wearing a glorious off-shoulder gown of deep red velvet. Her pure white hair was uncharacteristically loose. Despite this state of partial undress, her ladyship had company.

  Her guest’s picture had been displayed on the city bulletin boards last week; in fact several pictures had flashed past as part of a scrolling display of foreign officials gathering in the capital. Lexi couldn’t remember his name, but she knew his handsome face: he was the ambassador for Ullarn.

  The realm of Ullarn was situated to the east and south. It was notoriously inhospitable territory, and the realm’s government was habitually suspicious. Few were suffered to visit, not even on official business. Instead they sent ambassadors and delegates out, and those ambassadors were - at least by report - prickly, stiff-necked, self-important people. Difficult to deal with.

  Lady Glostrum seemed to be dealing with this one rather well.
The ambassador was sitting on a low divan, his face in profile. Her ladyship was seated in his lap; as Lexi watched, she bent to kiss him.

  Well, this would certainly thrill Brysold.

  Lexi brought the Depictioner up and trained it on my lady and her unorthodox guest. She tensed, knowing that she would have to activate the device and then get out, quickly. The flash of light would instantly give away her presence. Her hands shook and she muffed the first attempt to take the picture.

  Calm down, stupid.

  Curses upon it all. How she hated this kind of work.

  Her ladyship was talking, but she wasn’t speaking the official language of Glour. Lexi guessed that she was speaking Ullarni. The ambassador said something in reply as Lexi stood, trying to pull herself together.

  Her finger tensed on the activation button. Light blazed, and she shut her eyes until it passed. Lexi held the thing still, knowing it required at least ten seconds to create a good image.

  Lady Glostrum and the ambassador were instantly alert, both staring directly at Lexi with the Depictioner in her hand. Stored on that device was a picture that would scandalise the realm of Glour when it came out. Lexi backed away, trying to secure her device one-armed so she could run without dropping it.

  The Ullarni ambassador was trying to rise, but her ladyship maintained her seat in his lap, holding him down, speaking rapidly. Lexi wished she could understand the words, but she didn’t wait to see more. When the Depictioner was safely stored under her good arm, she turned and fled.

  Lexi was halfway across the drawing-room when Lady Glostrum’s slightly deep, cultured voice spoke a single word. ‘Stop.’

  She had no particular intention of stopping, but the authority in her ladyship’s tone was hard to resist. Lexi’s pace slowed before she knew what she was doing; the delay was enough; a hand gripped her shoulder and forced her to turn. Trembling with fear - would she be arrested, thrown into prison? - Lexi made herself look up into Lady Glostrum’s face.

  Her ladyship surveyed Lexi silently, taking in the device clutched under one arm and the absence of the opposite limb. Her face - as beautiful in person as people said - was impassive. Lexi couldn’t even tell if she was angry or not.

  Stupid notion. Of course she was angry.

  At last her ladyship spoke. ‘Who do you work for?’

  ‘Brysold’s Society Week,’ Lexi stammered. ‘Um, that is, your ladyship.’

  ‘And did Mr Brysold tell you to break into my house and spy upon me?’

  Lexi gulped. ‘In a way but not - not exactly. Um, the paper isn’t doing well and he thinks I’ve failed as a reporter. He told me to get something new on you or - or he’d fire me. I’m so sorry but I was desperate. Nobody else would give me a chance with - with this -’ She shrugged the shoulder that didn’t end in an arm.

  Lady Glostrum digested this for a few moments, her eyes impossible to read. ‘I can understand that,’ she said at last. ‘However, what you have happened to discover... you will be aware how delicate relations with Ullarn can be. It is the custom to treat Ullarni officials with great care.’

  Lexi dipped her head in assent. ‘Y-yes, I know.’

  ‘You might guess, then, that the picture you have taken would not be viewed favourably by my colleagues in government. It is likely that the Ullarni government will not be impressed either. That image may do considerable damage, if it is printed.’

  Lexi swallowed. That the likes of her held the power to affect the lives of nobles and officials was hard to grasp.

  ‘I am prepared to purchase the picture from you,’ continued her ladyship. ‘The sum will be generous, I assure you.’

  Lexi considered for barely half a second before she shook her head. ‘It isn’t money I need, your ladyship. Not exactly. What would I do when it ran out? I need to keep my job.’

  Lady Glostrum nodded. Lexi was startled to see a hint of something like apprehension - even fear - in her ladyship’s eyes.

  ‘Why would you do it?’ The question was blurted out before she could stop herself. She blushed mightily as her ladyship raised her perfect brows.

  ‘Why would I do what?’

  ‘Um - I meant - if it puts your reputation at risk, then why..?’

  Lexi couldn’t form any more words under that imperious gaze, but apparently she’d said enough to make herself understood. Lady Glostrum sighed, and glanced briefly behind her. The room remained empty: the ambassador had not followed.

  ‘You may believe it or not as you wish, but even nobles and government ministers may have personal lives.’

  Lexi ducked her head. ‘Of course, my lady.’

  ‘That’s not the whole reason, however.’ Her ladyship smiled slightly. ‘Prickly they may be, but the Ullarni are as human as the rest of us. It’s quite possible to forge close relations, if one is willing to hazard the attempt. But all that is officially required - or accepted - is a species of surface goodwill that means very little. The connections I am forging may one day be of use to our realm, but in the meantime... some of my methods would not, I think, be entirely understood.’

  Lexi nodded hastily. ‘I didn’t mean to question you.’

  ‘Nonsense. Of course you did. But you weren’t wrong to ask.’ All trace of a smile vanished from her face. ‘I will not threaten you. If I cannot secure the picture by financial means, I must resort to simpler methods. You have asked something of me: now I am asking something in return. Mr Brysold must not receive that picture.’

  Lexi hesitated, torn. She could grasp all too well the impact of publishing this picture, and she had no desire to damage this mysterious and mesmerising woman. But still, what could she do? She would not receive another chance to satisfy Brysold’s demand for news. She opened her mouth to reply, but the dry tones of the butler cut across the silence in her stead.

  ‘I must apologise for the young person, my lady. I had thought she had left the premises.’

  Lady Glostrum smiled over Lexi’s head. ‘That’s quite all right, Beane. The young lady will be leaving now.’

  The butler bowed frigidly to Lexi, his disapproving eye settling on the Depictioner. She allowed herself to be led away, casting a single glance back at Lady Glostrum. Her ladyship stood watching, her face once again a smooth mask. No hint of apprehension or entreaty could Lexi detect, but guilt gnawed at her anyway.

  Lexi walked slowly back to her tiny home, her thoughts busy. Her decision was a hard one, but she knew she had no real choice. She struggled with herself for a time, then at last accepted the inevitable.

  She developed the picture with painstaking care. It was a perfect, clear image. Brysold would be delighted with her.

  With only one small, regretful sigh, Lexi lit a candle and held the beautiful picture over the flame. The fire ate it rapidly, destroying beyond retrieval the compromising image of Lady Glostrum and the ambassador from Ullarn.

  ***

  ‘What do you mean, nothing?!’

  Brysold was, predictably, livid. He paced the cheap wooden boards that covered the floor of his office, setting them creaking under the force of his considerable weight. He was wearing his particularly dark frown, the one that promised dire consequences for somebody.

  Lexi stood quietly before him, her chin held high, waiting in trembling anticipation as his fury washed over her. She had no doubt that she would be fired. She recognised that some of her boss’s anger came from desperation and anxiety over the paper’s future.

  He would naturally have to stop humouring her. She was an inept reporter: they both knew it.

  ‘Get out of my sight,’ he said at last, having exhausted most of his rage.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she said sadly. ‘Am I to return next week, sir?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet.’

  Lexi managed to nod. Her jaw was clenched so tightly against the tears that it hurt. She left Brysold’s office without disgracing herself further, and stumbled blindly home.

  Five days had passed since her encounter with
Lady Glostrum. She had not had the courage to return to her ladyship’s house and ask again for an interview: after her break-in and capture, she was far too ashamed. So she had taken to tailing some of Glour City’s other celebrated figures. Many pictures crowded her image device, but she had recorded nothing significant; nothing that every other paper in the city hadn’t already reported on.

  Now she didn’t know what else to do. She had pursued every avenue that she could bear to explore, and nothing had borne fruit. She was simply too shy, too self-effacing, and - to be entirely honest about her profession - too morally upstanding to excel at this line of work. But where could she expect to find another job?

  Lexi arrived home feeling so low in spirits she scarcely knew what to do with herself. She was ready to crawl into bed, pull the blankets over her head, and sleep for a week. Maybe for eternity.

  But lying on the doormat was a letter. Picking it up, she was astonished to find a deep red waxen seal holding the folded paper secure. Only the highest echelons of society used seals in their correspondence. Who could Lexi expect it to be from, save Lady Glostrum?

  For an instant she was frozen with fear. Perhaps her ladyship had changed her mind and set the Investigative Office on Lexi, and this letter was notification of it. Only, why would she then send a warning? Her heart beating hard, Lexi clumsily ripped the letter open.

  For the attention of Leximandra Greyne,

  I observe that a certain image has not been published in any paper or periodical in the last few days. This can only mean that you have kept it to yourself; otherwise I feel sure your employer would have wasted no time in using it.

  Thank you.

  By way of recompense I would like to give your paper the advantage of announcing my engagement to the world, but this must necessarily be left for the city’s central bulletin boards. Instead, I invite you to attend my house again this evening at the nineteenth hour of the day. Come prepared to record an interview.