Free Rogue's Home by Hilari Bell Page B

about…” Judith frowned, and my suspicion stirred.
    â€œYou think she was that vague deliberately? Why?”
    â€œI’m not sure. She might have reverted to old habits under stress. Or…”
    â€œOr?”
    â€œShe may have thought you wouldn’t be willing to come just to help Max.”
    I snorted. “Just to help Max I wouldn’t, but my family’s fate is pretty well tied to his. What happened?”
    Judith’s eyes were distant. “It really started with the fire….”
    It took the rest of the afternoon to get the whole story. It seemed old Max, along with most of the merchants in the city, was heavily invested in a convoy ofships that was setting off to trade in Tallowsport. The ships hadn’t even left the dock when a fire started in one of the shipyards, burning a shed full of pitch kegs, which then exploded.
    â€œThe fire went everywhere, Fisk. Dozens of people were burned and three men died!”
    Eight ships had burned to the waterline, among them the ships Maxwell had invested in.
    â€œSo we lost a lot of money, but Max hadn’t borrowed—it was just his savings.” We’d finished the silver by this time and were spreading the heavy linen tablecloth. It, too, Judith said, was to be sold after tonight. “I don’t suppose you’ve acquired a fortune over the last five years?”
    â€œNo, but at least I didn’t lose one. Go on.”
    The real disaster occurred almost a month after the fire. Maxwell had judged a murder, an ugly case where two drunken tanners had raped and killed a traveling player who’d beaten them at a shell game. It was horrible, but it seemed clear-cut. There were two witnesses; one of them, a woman too ill to rise and go for help, actually saw the crime committed. The other had seen the two men enter the alley where the girl was killed. Both of them identified the tanners, whom Maxwell, quite properly, ordered hanged.
    Then, over a month after the trial, the invalid killedherself, leaving a note that she could no longer bear the guilt of lying two men to their death, and that she’d been bribed to identify them…by Judicar Maxwell. The Judicary Guild ordered an immediate investigation. They had complete confidence in Max’s honesty—though that wavered a bit when they discovered that the other witness had left town a month before the woman’s death. The guild audited Maxwell’s books and bank account and found nothing suspicious until some bright young clerk had the notion to search Max’s study. In a hidden compartment beneath a window seat they found another set of ledgers, for a bank account in Fallon. They were in Maxwell’s handwriting and showed he’d received a large sum of money not long before the hearing, and paid out several smaller sums of money, one of which exactly matched the amount the woman’s suicide note claimed she’d been paid.
    When Judith told me the sum that was left, I whistled. “It sounds like old Max recouped his losses.”
    Judith’s eyes flashed. “If you’d been here, you wouldn’t joke about it.”
    I wasn’t joking. At least, not entirely. But Judith went on, “He lost everything he cares about except his family. Not just money, but the respect of the community, his position. His…place. He was framed, Fisk.And they did a cursed good job, too.” Her expression was grim.
    â€œJudith, are you sure of that? Anyone can be—”
    â€œNot Max. I’ve lived in his house for five years. I’m certain. He was framed.”
    If Anna had said that, I wouldn’t have paid much attention, but Judith had sat through the same lessons I had—a scholar was trained to evaluate the facts. And Judith was Judith. Putting compassion above truth wasn’t one of her virtues, but if Max had been framed…
    â€œBy who then? And why?”
    â€œThat, dear brother, is the