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I suddenly found myself paying a lot more attention to what my dear sister had to say. I sat up straight and leaned forward over the desk, looking closely at Trinity to detect any signs of duplicity or deceit. But she seemed to be entirely earnest in what she said, completely truthful. "It was supposed to be a licensed company, entirely legit and above board," she insisted, "Garrick even showed me the documents, and I checked them most carefully." I should explain at this point that the authenticity of most documents, legal and the like, is enforced by the use of a specialised glamour, a magic that means that document forgery in the Lower Realms is an extremely rare phenomena. The glamour usually used is one of these sensitive psychic types that give any reader of a document an uncanny sense of the true intent of the parties involved in the contract. There is no point is trying to lie or dissemble under these circumstances since the magic will inevitably point out the deceitful purposes. This expectation, borne out by a long and ancient history, gives most Goblins an almost reverential view of contractual documents, although the more cautious will still invoke the glamour that confirms the legitimacy. "You saw the official permits?" I asked in a level tone. Trinity nodded wordlessly. "I've been in business a long time," she asserted, "I've set up partnerships before. I know the form, and I always check that the documents are genuine." "Careful with you choice of business partners, aren't you," I responded ironically, "But it didn't stop you having a concealed exit, though, did it?" Trinity snorted. "I'm not that trusting," she said, "And I'm pretty certain that Garrick didn't know about that particular rat-hole. Besides, it was on the surface; you'd want a hidden way out, wouldn't you?" I had to agree with her. Folks like me can't be too careful up there. There are too many rumours, too many dark tales, both folklore and legend from long ago and urban myths from more recent times. I would bet that the particular exit we used wasn't the only one that provided a swift retreat from the warehouse. But, since it used mostly human-constructed tunnels, it might have been the only one constructed without the aid of magic, and therefore not susceptible to detection from an adept like Garrick. There was no doubt that Professor Urquhart Garrick was indeed an adept; one skilled in the ways of magic. Certainly, he might be one skilled enough to falsify the credentials on an official permit. That would be typical of Professor Garrick's style, and his warped but still considerable genius. But, why bother - unless it was part of some deeper play, some long-term plan. "Well," I admitted, "You think Garrick forged the documents and set you up?" Trinity nodded again. It could be a coincidence but, on balance, I was inclined to agree with her suspicions. I sat back in the chair, the tired springs squeaking like a mouse in a trap. "I take it you still want me to track down Professor Urquhart Garrick, then?" I said, affecting a degree of boredom with the whole proceedings. "Yes, I do," Trinity snorted, clearly spotting my pose for what it was, "He owes me, big time. But you don't seem to be making much progress at the moment." "Well, he's a wily old bird," I said, "But I do have a lead, and a plan. So why don't you just leave me alone to get on with it?"
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Part 49