The Gadget: The Rondon Chronicles Book One V. Timlin (mobi reader .txt) 📖

she wanted to do so even less here. She would have floated if only she were able. How desperate would one have to be to resort to Arnar’s services? Then she remembered the children on the street and Stalo—fugitives and the very poor would always exist.

Dr Arnar regarded them with a mixture of suspicion and wariness in his light-blue eyes. Anouk estimated him to be in his sixties, pasty-faced with thin grey hair combed over his skull in an attempt to cover his bald spot. A manicured moustache shadowed his flat upper lip. He wore what might once have been a white doctor’s coat, but was now greyish and dotted with dark splatters. Blood?

“You wanted information,” Dr Arnar said and glanced at Anouk. “Medical, I assume.”

“Of course.” Nat kept his tone as light and pleasant as before. “Have you treated a gunshot wound of one particular dangerous criminal within the last few hours?”

All colour vanished from Dr Arnar’s face, making him look even paler than he already was.

“So you have, I gather,” Nat purred.

“I don’t blabber about my patients. We doctors have secrecy obligations.” Dr Arnar’s tone was gruff, but his eyes flickered… terror?

“You don’t have a licence to operate as a doctor. I could easily turn you in to the enforcers, and you would be treating fellow convicts as your next patients.” Nat flashed a charming smile.

Dr Arnar sank deeper in his chair.

“Have you treated Stalo De Meriweth?” All previous sweetness in Nat’s tone had vanished and he leaned closer to Arnar, resting his hand on his revolver.

The doctor’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re not…” He snapped his mouth shut and cleared his throat. “I mean, you’re bounty hunters?”

“Yes.”

Relief passed over Dr Arnar’s face. Anouk frowned. What had he thought they were? Relatives of a patient he’d killed?

He shifted in his chair, a glint of greed in his eyes. “That information doesn’t come for free. I want money.”

So much for the doctor’s ethics…

Nat tossed a small wad of banknotes at him—Arnar caught it mid-air and lowered them to his lap to count. He grunted and pocketed the notes.

“Is he still here?” Nat asked.

“No. He left as soon as I got the bullet out of his shoulder. I have a couple of beds for patients too sick. Extra income is always welcome, but I’m glad he left.”

Nat’s expression hardened. “You only removed the bullet?”

“Yes.”

“Not the Beacon?”

“No. He asked me though, but I don’t own a Sniffer to locate it.”

“Alright. Was he badly wounded?”

“Well, he had lost quite a lot of blood.”

“Anything else you care to share with us?”

Dr Arnar opened his mouth, but then closed it.

Nat leaned forward, tapping the grip of his revolver.

“There is one thing.” Dr Arnar wrung his hands. “You didn’t hear this from me, but he asked me to join him.”

“Join him?” Nat’s eyes narrowed. “Did he tell you why?”

Dr Arnar shook his head. “No. I said I’d think about it. He’s not the kind of man you dare to say ‘no’ to his face.”

“Aye.” Nat rubbed his chin. “How much time did he give you?”

“He didn’t say. At first I thought he had sent you, so that’s why I didn’t open the door. Either way, I’m not going to wait for him. I’m going away and won’t return until you or some other bounty hunter has captured him.”

Nat regarded the doctor for a few moments, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well, thank you for your cooperation, Dr Arnar. Good day.” He turned, signalling with his hand for Anouk to follow. Anouk bobbed her head to the older gentleman and hurried after Nat.

They stepped out onto the street.

“Ugh, that was unpleasant.”

“Yes, but we now know that Stalo still has the Locator in place,” Nat replied, scanning the street. “Also, he’s unlikely to use the Gadget as long as he’s wounded. As you know, travelling through the door is not the smoothest.”

“Yep, and that is good news.” Anouk flicked her eyes at the door of the clinic. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Stalo got an infection and died. The conditions in there were gross. I wonder what the death rate of that place is?”

Nat gave her a wry smile. “Well, the problem would be resolved, but I wouldn’t get the reward.”

“Quite.” Anouk glanced up to the sky. The smoke hovering above the roofs made it hard to judge the time, so she asked Nat if he had any idea.

Nat took a pocket watch from his vest and popped the lid open with his thumb. “It’s five in the afternoon.” He slipped it back and returned to observing the street as if seeking inspiration.

“Thanks.” Anouk propped her hands on her hips. “What do we do now? Although he’s seriously wounded, he could be anywhere in the city.”

“Aye.”

“Any ideas why Stalo asked Arnar to join him?”

Nat failed to respond, and his expression was closed as if deep in thoughts. Maybe he didn’t have one yet. Or maybe it wasn’t relevant. Whatever Stalo’s plan might be, it didn’t change their mission. They had to capture him dead or alive, just as it had read in the newspaper.

Anouk chewed her lower lip while letting her gaze wander over the narrow lane— women carrying baskets, a group of men leaning against the wall talking, two women bending over their tubs and washboards scrubbing laundry, children running between people, and wagons that thundered down the street.

“Someone here must have seen him.”

“Very likely, but whether they will share the information, that’s another matter. Few here want to get involved with something that might get them in trouble later. They are cautious, and here it’s wisdom.”

Anouk spotted two girls playing with rubbish next to the wall a few yards away. They looked small, but well fed compared to the children she had seen earlier. Both wore brown skirts, but no shoes, and their light-brown hair was tied in two shoulder length plaits. Five-and six-year-olds, she estimated. She got a thought.

“Wait here.”

She approached the children. They stopped playing, their smudged faces wary, but didn’t