The Philosophical Strangler by Eric Flint

” ‘As ‘is treach’rous fingers in ev’ry pie, ‘e does,” added McDoul piously.

” ‘Specially ‘mongst lowlifes like what ‘angs around y’rotten dives sech as th’Trough,” continued Geronimo Jerry, shaking his head sadly, “which, o’ course, is what necess’tates us t’spend so much o’ our days there, knockin’ down one pot ‘o ale after ‘nuther, which we couldna afford ‘cept for th’Cruds is payin’ fer it an’ all, so’s we can ferret out th’treacherous plot of th’Dark Duke.”

And that explained, naturally, why they’d been forced—much though it pained them to raise a hand against the Queen’s finest—to form the Cat’s last guard in the brawl at The Trough. Keep their cover, don’t you know? And it worked like a charm. Not only did they get released, but they even got a raise out of the Cruds.

Chapter 19.

A Plot Is Hatched

Once they finished their tale, Greyboar explained to them what

we wanted. The Trio pondered the problem deeply—three ale pots’ worth apiece.

“Th’information regardin’ th’layout o’ th’Pile, now,” mused Erlic, “aye an’ that’s no th’problem.”

“Get it from Vincent, we will,” explained McDoul. “Aye an’ there’s not a thing th’lad dinna know about th’plan o’ th’Pile.”

“Will he help us?” I asked. “I mean, why should he?”

So the Trio explained that after they’d been pitched back into their old cell, where they waited for the Angel Jimmy Jesus to arrive, who should pop up again but Vincent van Goph? It seemed the artist hadn’t been fully satisfied with some of the detail work on his triptych. While he finished it up, the Trio struck up a conversation with him.

“Disgruntled, ‘e is,” said Geronimo Jerry, “at th’sorry state o’ th’Queen’s art stocks, which o’ course ye’ll be understandin’, is where ‘e obtains ‘is own supplies. Quite th’proper thief ‘e is ins’own right, Vincent.”

Then they began quarreling as to the precise position occupied in the pantheon of thievery by the Underground Artist. But Greyboar brought them back to earth. The gist of what came out of it was that Vincent had offered, if the Trio would provide him with some good quality paints, to sketch their portraits on some appropriate wall in the dungeons. Not really thinking they’d ever follow through on the deal, the Trio had made certain arrangements for leaving a note for Vincent in the event they should obtain his supplies. In a corner of the ale cellar under The Trough, as it happened.

“No wonder Leuwen’s been grumbling about somebody stealing his ale stock!” exclaimed Greyboar. “Must be this Vincent fellow, burrowing into the cellar from below and making off with the odd keg.”

The Trio nodded their heads, their expressions showing great disapproval of the sorry moral state of the thief Vincent van Goph.

“Inexcus’ble conduct on ‘is part, ‘o course,” intoned McDoul piously, “but ye canna ‘ardly blame th’lad. Says th’Trough’s ale is th’best in th’world.”

“That it is,” agreed Greyboar. “So you think if we provide him with good paints he’d find out for us the exact location of the Cat’s cell? Well, let’s try it.”

Then Greyboar told me to go out and buy plenty of good artist’s paints. I was tempted to argue the point—cost us a pretty penny out of the stash I’d been storing up, don’t you know?—but I decided to let it pass. “Never try to reason with a love-struck man,” the wise man says, “when he’s got hands the size of bulldogs.”

Within two days the Trio had made the contact with Vincent, and it took but two days longer for Vincent to return with the needed information. Interesting tidbits he’d picked up, too.

“That scumbag!” roared Greyboar, stomping around the room. “That lecher! That—that priestly vulture!”

The focus of the strangler’s ire was upon Luigi Carnale, Cardinal Fornacaese. For, it now turned out, the Cardinal had apparently had an ulterior motive in demanding the immuration of the Cat in the heretics’ quarter of the Pile. An ulterior motive, let me say, which cast a definite shadow on the Cardinal’s vows of chastity. Admittedly, casting a shadow on Cardinal Fornacaese’s vows of chastity was a bit like casting a shadow on a solar eclipse.