Chapter 11: The Insurance Man

The constable at the doorway had been there long enough that Severin was starting to wonder whether the hospital owned him too.

Severin had spent most of the morning watching the constable pretend he wasn’t keeping an eye on him. Every few minutes the man shifted in the chair or looked down the corridor when a trolley passed. Otherwise he stayed put.

It made planning an escape difficult. Severin could barely stand anyway. The nurse had let him try standing after breakfast. Both feet reached the floor before his left knee began shaking and the stitches in his belly pulled hard enough to turn the room gray. She had put him back in bed and threatened to find straps if he tried again alone.

After the nurse left, he tested the leg again from the bed. The knee bent, but putting weight through it brought the shaking back almost at once. Turning too quickly tugged at the stitches beneath the bandage. The door stood only a dozen paces away. For now, escape was a stupid idea.

His right hand was improving, but the last two fingers still followed the others a fraction late when he closed them.

The constable noticed. "Giving you trouble?"

"Only when I need it."

Footsteps approached along the corridor. Severin expected the nurse, but a man in a dark gray coat stopped beside the constable instead. He carried a narrow leather case and wore round spectacles with smoke-darkened lenses. Blond hair was tied neatly at the nape, away from a face Severin remembered from the warehouse. The lenses hid his eyes, but Severin knew him anyway.

He glanced into the room. "Severin Hale?"

His Aethermerian sounded more careful now, and the thick Imperial accent Severin remembered was almost gone.

The constable stood. "Who are you?"

He produced a folded paper. "Blackhaven General Accident Assurance. I’ve been asked to examine him in connection with the railway claim."

While the constable read, Severin looked him over. No hood or visible sword. One hand wore a brown leather glove, and the coat was clean enough that nobody would guess what had been burned off the last one. Same fucking bastard.

The change was annoyingly convincing. He looked like the sort of man who spent his days carrying forms between offices. Even the spectacles helped. Severin had watched policemen drag men out of boarding houses over less than a missing rent payment, yet a clean coat and a folded sheet of paper had bought this stranger a place beside his bed.

The constable handed back the paper. "He’s in police custody."

"That’s not a problem, sir. I’m only here to examine him."

"Very well. The door stays open."

The stranger nodded. "Of course."

He entered, set the case on the bedside table and opened it. Folded cloths, a small hammer, bandages, forceps and two bottles filled the compartments. Enough medical rubbish to make the lie respectable.

Severin waited until the constable sat again. "You’ve got some fucking nerve."

"Good morning to you too." The Imperial accent returned when the stranger lowered his voice.

"You left me in that warehouse and ran."

"I also stopped you bleeding to death. You might have tried listening when I told you to leave."

"Maybe you should’ve minded your own business and stayed out of the warehouse."

"Keep your voice down."

He pressed beside Severin’s kneecap. Pain shot up his thigh, making him catch the sheet with his left hand. The stranger shifted his thumb lower and pressed again, slower this time. The second pressure left a dull ache behind it. He bent the leg a little, stopped when Severin’s breathing changed, then let it settle back onto the mattress. Whatever else the bastard was pretending to be, he seemed to know what he was looking for.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Still tender," the man said, loud enough for the corridor.

"Of course it is. You did that too."

"You were trying to stab me."

"I thought you were a thief."

The stranger exhaled through his nose. "Give me your right hand."

"Thanks to you, I’m under arrest and four of my mates are being questioned."

"I warned you there would be trouble." He paused. "But you also shouldn’t be taking all the blame."

Severin held out his hand. The man used his uncovered one to test the grip, then pushed against each finger while Severin tried to keep them closed. His little finger gave first. Severin forced it back into line and watched it slip loose again. The failure irritated him more than the pain. Across from him, the brown glove stayed motionless against the edge of the case.

"Again."

Severin repeated the motion. This time the ring finger followed the little one a fraction later. The man watched both without touching the gloved hand to anything.

"Still numb?"

"Some." He glanced at the brown glove. "How’s the hand you’re hiding?"

No answer.

"What? Worried I’ll tell the police about your lightning again?"

"You already did."

Severin pulled his hand back. "How do you know?"

"Because the Blackhaven police are looking for me now."

"They didn’t believe me."

"That was the hope."

Footsteps approached. The stranger closed the case halfway as a nurse appeared with fresh dressings and a thermometer.

"Insurance examiner," the constable told her.

The nurse looked unimpressed. "I need to change his dressings."

"My apologies. I’m nearly finished."

She checked the chart at the foot of the bed. "Ten minutes. Then you’re out."

She left the tray on the table and headed back into the corridor.

Once her footsteps faded, Severin looked at the stranger. "Why are you here anyway?"

"To see whether you survived."

"How thoughtful. Doesn’t help much if I’m going to prison."

The Imperial glanced toward the open door and kept his voice low. "Listen, I can’t walk into a police station and tell them what happened. The men who paid for those crates to be delivered have already bought most of the sergeants and the Commissioner. We’d both end up arrested."

"Then you’re no use to me."

Severin rubbed a hand over his face. "Can I at least know your name?"

"Hans Schultz."

"Is that your real name?"

"Yes."

"Good. I’m Severin Hale."

"I know. You’ve made yourself quite popular lately." Hans latched the medical case. "You said your friends were questioned."

"Yeah."

"Did you tell them what happened?"

"Of course. They think I’m either mad or lying."

Hans gave him a long look. "You are remarkably good at spreading this story."

"Didn’t have much choice."

"Let’s say you get out of here. Do you have a home or family to return to?"

The answer came easily enough. Saying it in a hospital bed, wearing a shirt that belonged to the infirmary while a constable guarded the door, made it sound worse than it usually did. He had nowhere waiting for him and nobody likely to come asking where he had gone. If they opened the door and told him to leave, he would first have to decide where.

Severin kept his eyes down. "No."

"I see." Hans picked up the leather case. "One more question. Why did you help me when that man attacked?"

Severin frowned. "I figured out you weren’t the thief, and he would’ve killed us both."

The bandage pulled when he shifted against the pillows. "And I wasn’t going to stand there and watch him carve you apart. Happy?"

Hans looked down at the closed case. His uncovered hand rested on the handle while the gloved one stayed at his side. For a second Severin expected another smart answer. None came. Hans checked one of the brass clasps even though it was already shut, then gave a quiet laugh and turned toward the door.

"That’s it?" Severin pushed himself higher until the stitches pulled. "You came all this way to see if I was alive?"

Hans stopped. "Depends."

"On what?"

He looked back at Severin’s wrapped knee. "How fast can you walk?"

"Not too bloody quick. I can barely stand."

"That may be enough."

Hans’s attention had already moved past the bed. He looked toward the open doorway and along the corridor beyond the constable’s chair, then checked where the nurse had left her tray. He no longer looked much like a man thinking about an injured knee.

The constable turned toward the room. Hans met his eyes and lifted the case.

"We’re finished here, sir. I’ll send the company my assessment."

A moment later, Hans stepped into the corridor before Severin could ask another question. The constable rose to check the paper again while Hans answered in the same bored professional tone he had used on arrival.

Severin watched them, then looked past the constable toward the corridor and started measuring the distance.