The Bookkeeper

The small warehouse smelled of dust, wood, and stale paper. Salty sea air drifted in from the loading docks, the dampness adding a note of well-aged mould. It was the kind of dull but persistent smell that no amount of washing would get out of my clothes for a while.

The warehouse also bustled with activity. People and machines scurried to move boxes from one side to the other — from the waiting trains at the railroad to the docked ships, and then back again. I wrinkled my nose. Damp wasn’t enough, it had to be noisy and crowded as well.

But I ignored the overall unpleasantness and kept pace with the inspection group. Work paused as we passed, people turning to look at the uniformed men at my side. Lieutenant Alexio swept the workers with a glance and suppressed a smile. Work resumed, quiet whispers and hidden stares aimed our way as we marched on to the walled-off office area across.

Antilla was the largest commercial harbour on the east coast. It served as a distribution point for trading guilds, rally point for naval military deployment, and a connection point to the Isles. A network of channels, rivers, and railroads concluded here, bringing in traffic from all over the continent.

It was an open secret that, despite also being the largest military harbour in the Governance, Antilla was the centre for most smuggling operations, and Blau’s arrest had given the army the perfect excuse to crack down on criminal activity and take over a few key legitimate businesses in the process.

Alexio was remarkably young for the position he held. He was also the son of some official or other. His inexperience made him easy to sway toward certain decisions and at the same time expendable enough to blame if anything went wrong. He was probably quite aware of the first part but I had a feeling that he was deluded enough to overlook the second. His youthful ignorance also made him easy to read and prevented him from noticing details that could otherwise help his personal goals. Which worked quite well in my favour.

He scanned the space with a disdainful look once more. “What do you think?” he asked me, unwilling or incapable of erasing that damn smirk off his lips.

I kept my face blank. “Too early to tell.”

A soft frown marred his previous condescending cheerfulness. I had to thread carefully. He’d already tried to prematurely shut down both shipment companies we’d visited this morning. I’d stopped him once, argued the other case, and overriding him a third time was risky. Especially when he had a list of recommendations from his superior to follow and a quota of businesses to take over.

The trading guilds were perhaps the only institution that maintained a degree of independence from the army. The military had been pining for a stronger foothold for decades, and with Blau’s fall it was finally time to take that step.

That’s where I came in.

Some would fall, there was no escaping it, but I had to subtly divert the military’s pick. I needed to steer them toward business that appeared flashy but didn’t hold much importance. They couldn’t be allowed to disturb the illicit routes that maintained supplies to the Nereids whenever the Governance tried to starve them into submission on one decision or another.

And so, the shabby warehouse we were currently inspecting had to remain independent.

Operated by Rita & Co, it was a small shipping business that mainly dealt with transportation of textiles. Despite the ‘Co’ label it was run by a single woman — Rita. She had inherited it a few years ago from a patron who had taken a fancy to her. In the grand scheme of trading guilds she was a small fish, but she had a very important role in the smuggling world — she was a Bookkeeper. She was someone who made sure that when contraband shipments reached their destinations everything looked legitimate to accountants and anyone else who might take an interest. With her own shipping business to back her up, it made it easy to launder goods. She was also rumoured to be stunningly clever although with a nasty temper, which made her dangerous and kept most low criminals away.

We were halfway to the offices when a tall blond woman made to intercept us. She wore the latest fashion — soft turtleneck sweater and trendy suit, flats instead of heels, and silk gloves for no particular reason. For someone who’d never been to the Capital she knew how to carry herself with importance. If I had to guess, that was Rita herself.

In no hurry, she strolled up the long central stretch of the warehouse, shoulders back and gaze locked on our group. Alexio paused, meeting her halfway with a cocky smile. She responded with one of her own as her grey eyes swept over us, lingering on him. She catalogued it all, his shiny new shoes, his uniform — a soft looking wool-cotton blend rather than the usual rough fabric — and his expensive watch. He did the same, sizing her up like a lion would a gazelle. This would not be an easy fight.

The two exchanged pleasantries. Alexio didn’t introduce me to her, and Rita didn’t ask. He ordered his two guards to remain behind with a jerk of his hand, and bid me to follow with another. I didn’t miss the spark of mental activity that passed between him and his men. A telepath giving orders to two trackers in the middle of an operation did not bode well.

Rita didn’t spare me a second glance as we moved on. Few people did, and that was the goal. Her mood was steady as we made our way to her office, without a hint of concern or stir of mental agitation. She was in her element here. Familiar environment, common situation. She knew how to carry herself around mentalists, but she was not perfect. Every now and then her energy would flare up, betraying her elemental nature. Lucky for her I was the only one to notice, else Alexio would have been calling for a hit squad by now. But if she wanted to keep blending in, she would have to reign in her blazing aura.

Her office was a small, dusty space where the scent of old paper and cold dampness seemed to aggregate. As soon as we entered, Alexio deposited himself on the lone, tattered chair in front of the similarly old, scratched-up desk, and casually started jabbing questions and demands at her. He asked for the worker manifesto, the shipping logs, the accounting records… and at some point I thought he was throwing words he’d overheard just to see which one would stick. Rita nodded to each request with a polite smile plastered on her face, but the increasing bite of her energy betrayed her. The woman hated being bossed around, and it was only her intense focus on suppressing her instinctive reaction that stopped her from calling him out.

It was probably that same strain, which prevented her from realising that most of the documents he asked for he didn’t have the authority to request, and that she could easily dismiss him. Even file a complaint, if only she had bothered bringing in legal witnesses. She did neither. Excelling at illicit dealings didn’t necessarily teach one how to use the real law to one’s advantage. Instead, she calmly walked around her desk, a small storm flashing through her energy, sat down, and began passing him papers.

In reality, all Alexio was entitled to were the shipping logs and the partner list. Yet he asked for every little business note without regards to whether he could actually read it. Not that he took the time to even flip through them. Once he had a thick stack of folders and books in his hands, he held them over his shoulder for me. While it was technically my job to help him sort paperwork, I had to suppress the urge to smack him with the pack. Calmly, I set my bag on top of a dusty file cabinet and the books onto another.

If he’d had any experience in these kinds of investigations he’d know that it would take weeks to research and confirm the legitimacy of all the documents. If he had any experience in the army he would also know she had just handed him a loaded gun by providing the accounting book without a warrant. I couldn’t tell if Rita was a special kind of stupid or an excellent manipulator.

I quickly scanned through the pages of the accounting book, while keeping an eye on the two of them at the same time.

“So,” Alexio began, “you’ve run this business long?” He swept the dusty office with a glance before settling his green gaze on her. Although his voice was kind, the slight upturn of his nose made his disgust obvious. This place was not up to his standards.

Rita sat back, arms crossing. I sucked in a breath. Bad move. She was going on the defence.

“Long enough,” she hummed a reply.

Alexio’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Family business?”

“In a way.”

“Please elaborate.”

I tuned them out and focused on the numbers, because a few things did not sit right. I scanned one recent page over and over, cataloguing discrepancies. It was simple things, calculations not adding up here, locations not matching there. At a first glance it looked like a sloppy cover-up, but knowing her reputation that was unlikely. Her handing it over with so much confidence also didn’t make sense if the document was incriminating. The only conclusion I could draw was that she didn’t know about it and was being set-up.

The office veered into silence. I glanced at Alexio, meeting his eyes. The look he threw me was all smug, like he knew what I would find.

I didn’t like that one bit.

Someone was trying to destroy her business and he knew about it.

“I bet you meet a lot of interesting people,” he turned his attention back to Rita. She wasn’t exactly glowering, but the mismatch between her burning eyes and her cold porcelain smile was as close as she could safely get to that. “Capital, southern provinces, even the west coast. That’s a lot of clients for such a small operation,” he made sure to sweep the office with a glance again, this time letting a note of revulsion creep into his voice. “I don’t know about the west coast,” he continued, “but the southern provinces must be nice. Have you had the chance to travel there?”

Of course she hadn’t. Travel permits weren’t exactly given out like candy. Even to those in the trade and transportation business.

She shook her head, her stormy gaze sharp on him. “Haven’t had the pleasure. Yet.”

“No?” he said in mock disappointment, “most of your suppliers are based there, aren’t they? How do you manage a business without ever meeting them in person?”

“We correspond in writing.”

“You do?” This time he feigned surprise. “You must talk often to coordinate this well.”

A now familiar flare sparked in Rita’s energy, mirrored by the lamplight reflected in her pale eyes. She was going to meet his challenge straight, and I needed to stop this conversation before she said something incriminating.

“There’s an error in your files,” I spoke, snapping the thread of their conversation.

Two faces turned my way, one smug, one curious.

“Error?” Rita’s voice cracked just a little.

“Yes.” I crossed the small room and set the shipping records book in front of her. “This shipment was mislabelled.” I pointed to one recent entry marked as coming from Blau. It was a common tactic smugglers used — swapping less legitimate suppliers for well-known ones. Yet she didn’t know that Blau was no longer in business.

She looked at the page, then at me, brow creasing in confusion. Alexio’s smugness somehow managed to go up a notch.

Blau’s operation had been shut down a few months prior and anyone still claiming to receive goods from him would face serious investigation. While the military had kept it on the down-low, I was surprised the news hadn’t reached her. These kinds of networks had a way of spreading information. Her not hearing about it meant somebody had gone out of their way to blindside her before the investigation.

“I’m fairly sure—”

The look I gave her should have been all the warning she needed. “Because I checked in with customs and I’m fairly sure it’s mislabelled.” I set another paper in front of her. It bore the seal of a customs agent and listed a ‘corrected’ shipment. Instead of Blau’s it was another legitimate business I knew to still be operational. How fortunate for her that I always came prepared with proper blanks I could fill when no one was looking.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction. “Who are you again?”

“Where’s your assistant?” I pressed on. “You should clear it up with whoever filed this.”

There was no assistant, and she did her own filing work. But she was smart enough to use a different name when signing the ledgers, giving me a chance to spin this and give her plausible deniability.

Her face lit up with realisation, then shadowed with suspicion.

“She’s on vacation.”

“Clearly.”

Her lips formed a line, her mood spiking. She wasn’t as good at acting as she thought. Her anger was mounting quickly and reacting badly would only make her situation worse.

I tapped the paper. “You should correct this,” I said before she could speak. “And there will be a fee, of course… For misfiling.” I held her gaze, hoping my warning would get to her this time.

Rita smiled tightly. By the feel of it, she wanted nothing more than to punch someone.

Disengaging eye contact, I turned to Alexio. He nodded at my statement, but the smirk was gone from his face because it wasn’t going as he had planned. The brief exchange gave Rita a chance to read the paper I had given her.

“My, my,” she said, her earlier anger dissipating, “perhaps I should hire you as my record keeper.”

“You can’t afford me.” The words just slipped. Exactly the wrong words. Her gaze sharpened. Now she was interested. “Do you screen your workers before hiring them?” I shifted topics.

“I—”

I gave her another pointed look.

“My overseer does it.”

“Do you hire elementals?”

“Only registered.”

I hummed. Not true. And if she thought her workers were as subtle as her, she was in for a nasty surprise. Else Alexio wouldn’t have left his trackers behind to screen them.

“We’ll need the employee files.”

“I’m afraid that’s confidential,” she replied without missing a beat.

Good answer.

I glanced at Alexio and he shook his head to confirm we couldn’t press this. His mood had darkened before, but it was now a gathering storm.

“I’ve seen everything I need,” I announced to him, keeping my eyes on Rita. “I’ll need copies of these.” I pointed to the shipment logs. “We will come back for the employee files later,” I couldn’t stress that word enough. It was a good thing that anyone listening could chalk up the emphasis to a Capital accent.

Rita rose to her full height, took the shipment log from me to copy, and retreated out of her office without another word. If she were as smart as people claimed she would know to order her less legal workers as far away as possible for the near future.

“What about accounting?” Alexio asked when she left.

The accounting records were perhaps the most incriminating thing in her documentation. The rest I could cover for if confronted, but the blatant errors in taxation… not exactly.

I gave him my best dumbfound face. “What about it?”

Not believing me, he reached for the old worn book Rita had foolishly left behind. He cracked it open and quickly flipped through the pages, which confirmed to me that he knew exactly where to look and what to expect. His forehead creased with a frown when the book didn’t tell him what he wanted. But it told me something very important — this would be a battle, and they weren’t afraid to play dirty.

Alexio shoved away the records, the confusion badly concealed on his face. The book was truly old and worn, with loose pages and no distinguishing characteristics. It wasn’t accidental. In less legitimate circles ledgers were supposed to be easy to switch. Had he taken the time to read it before throwing it at me, he would have known if I’d swapped something out — be it a single page or the entire thing. His inexperience could indeed be useful. I just had to make sure he didn’t get himself dismissed based on incompetence.

When we walked out a moment later, I could swear that the small warehouse was a little less crowded.