Wolfgang looked puzzled. “Well, of course he was there. Where else would he be? We couldn’t have stolen the Rap Sheet without him. Oh, no—it would have been utterly out of the question! You need serious muscle for this kind of thing, Gwendolyn. Don’t you read any novels?”
Suddenly the lunatic was howling like a lunatic. “But the funniest thing was—was—” He was unable to speak for a few seconds, hooping and whooping and drooling. “The funniest thing was that in the end most of the muscle came from the dwarf! Ho! Ho! Sort of, I mean—actually, what I mean is that most of the muscle came from the snarl who carried the dwarf, so it was really the snarl who did most of the shredding and gobbling and rending and all that. But he couldn’t have done it without the dwarf!”
He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “Even so, we couldn’t have done it without Greyboar. Because Greyboar had to carry the sack, you see? Except for the dwarf, he’s the only one strong enough.”
He beamed down at Gwendolyn. “So that’s how it happened.”
Gwendolyn shook her head. “That’s all gibberish, Wolfgang.”
Wolfgang cackled. “Of course it’s gibberish! What else do you expect from a lunatic?”
Hildegard interrupted. “Nephew, let us leave aside for a moment the ins and outs of the thing. Where is the Rap Sheet itself?”
“Oh! I forgot! I have it—it’s right here.” The giant dug a hand into his tunic. He brought it out, clutching a green book.
“That’s it?” demanded Gwendolyn. “It doesn’t look like much.”
“Of course it doesn’t, dear,” said Hildegard. “Joe was a plain and simple fellow. None of his relics look like much. But don’t be fooled by appearances. That—that horrid thing—is worth the lives of thousands.”
“Oh, at least!” exclaimed Wolfgang. “It’s such a clever gadget! Let me show you!” He opened the book and began thumbing through the pages.
“Look, Gwendolyn—here you are!” He handed her the book. “The life and times of Gwendolyn Greyboar!”
Gwendolyn scanned the page the book was open to. Then she began turning more pages. More pages. More pages. After a minute or so, she closed the book. Her face was pale.
“This—relic—knows more about me than I do. I’d forgotten half the things in it.”
Shaking her head, she started to hand the book to Wolfgang. Suddenly she drew it back, and reopened it again. She scanned a few pages, closed it. The expression on her face was strange—relief, tinged with sadness.
“What’s wrong, dear?” asked Hildegard.
“Nothing’s wrong, Hildegard. I just—needed to know something.”
She gave the book to Wolfgang and walked over to a window. She stood there silently for a time, staring, thinking. Then she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and turned away from the window. She looked at me.
“You’re not mentioned anywhere in the Rap Sheet, Benvenuti. Not once. That means none of the authorities have any idea of what you’ve been up to since you came to Grotum.”
The news should have pleased me, but it didn’t. I had a sudden premonition, which Gwendolyn immediately confirmed.
“So you should go. Now, while you still can.”
I opened my mouth to speak, found no words. I tried again, and found no words.
At that moment, General Kutumoff came into the room, followed by his wife. I was relieved to see them, although I knew the respite was only momentary.
“General! And Madame!” cried Wolfgang. “So good to see you! How are the children? And the dogs?”
“Everyone is fine, Wolfgang,” replied Madame Kutumoff.
“I must apologize for this interruption,” said the General, “but there is pressing business which we need to discuss.”
Wolfgang rolled his eyes. “Business, always business.”
The General smiled. “I’m afraid so, Wolfgang. What are you going to do with the Rap Sheet?”
“I’m supposed to give it to The Mysterious Q. Magrit decided it wasn’t safe to keep it herself. Ozarae is bound to retaliate, you know, and it’ll strike at Prygg first. The poor witch! It just broke her heart—all those enemies she’ll have to pass up. Of course, the list she did compile will keep her busy for several years. But you know Magrit! Once a horrid harridan, always a horrid harridan!”