Chương 22: Chapter 21: Spoiled Rotten

Jack perched atop a rooftop overlooking the warehouse district. Far enough away to avoid notice, yet close enough to track the steady flow of traffic moving into, out of, and around the building below. Greyhaven carried a constant din no matter the hour. Wagon wheels grinding against stone. Dockworkers shouting across crowded streets. The distant groan of ships shifting against their moorings. Jack cataloged it all. Each movement. Each delay. Each irregularity. Another point along the pattern of deceit.

It had taken the better part of a week for the crew to narrow the problem down to two warehouses. Albriecht had been cooperative once convinced his losses were more than simple bad luck. Kael and Aldric had both received their assignments without issue. Kael played the role of hired laborer naturally. He was well-liked among the crews, often finding men he had worked beside before. He kept his head down, worked harder than expected, and listened carefully.

Twice he sent the team chasing conspiracies that turned out to be nothing. The first came after he overheard two workers speaking in hushed voices behind a stack of crates. Jack investigated one man personally while Seraphine cornered the other in a tavern later that evening. After enough smiles and carefully directed attention, the married dockworker eventually confessed his "criminal enterprise" amounted to running private betting pools on warehouse shifts and boxing matches.

Unfortunately, his partner's involvement was even less useful. The man owed enough gambling debt that he had been trying desperately to hide it from his wife. Scandalous. Not relevant. The second lead proved equally worthless. In the end, it was Aldric who found the break in the case. While reviewing shipping manifests after hours alongside Seraphine and Kael, he identified a pattern within the reported losses. The missing inventory centered almost entirely around food goods. Specifically, spoilage.

Jack confirmed the connection with Albriecht the following morning. The majority of the competitor's undercutting focused on the same goods. Food moved quickly. Spoilage justified losses. And unlike luxury items, no one questioned damaged grain or ruined rice with much urgency. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Which brought Jack here.

Jack was just about ready to abandon the rooftop and meet Kael for an early morning meal and debrief when movement below caught his attention. A caravan rolled toward the warehouse entrance before slowing near the loading doors. After a brief exchange with the foreman outside, the driver frowned, nodded once, and redirected the wagons elsewhere. Jack narrowed his eyes. It's not that there was anything inherently wrong with it, it was just different.

Following instinct more than evidence, Jack tucked the small ledger into his coat and moved. He crossed the rooftops quickly, boots barely making a sound as he jumped between narrow alleys and slanted tile. Below him, the caravan turned sharply through the streets toward a less traveled section of the district. Then the rooftops ended. Jack caught sight of a hanging balcony below, judged the distance, and leapt.

His boots hit the railing hard enough to rattle the structure before he swung himself downward into the alley beneath. By the time he reached the street, the caravan had vanished around another corner. Jack resisted the urge to sprint. Running blindly through Greyhaven at night drew attention and attention created memory. Instead, he slowed down. A blind man could have followed the scatt and drag marks left behind by the wagons and draft animals as it passed through the streets.

Several blocks later, his patience paid off. The caravan emerged again, disappearing through the open gates of another warehouse farther inland. Jack slowed immediately. This warehouse was not listed among Albriecht's holdings. Interesting.

"Kael! Get over here and help with this delivery!" Foreman Farral stood near the loading doors waving him over as another shipment rolled into the warehouse yard.

"Right," Kael answered, wiping sweat from his brow before heading over. He had been ready to leave for the night already. His back ached from a full day of hauling crates, and his hands felt raw despite the gloves. Still, he rolled his sleeves higher and joined him without complaint. Foreman Farral was good people, at least in Kael's opinion. The man worked hard alongside his crews instead of barking orders from afar avoiding the work they deemed beneath them. That mattered to people. It mattered to Kael.

The unloading continued in relative silence. Boots scraped against worn planks while crates thudded against the warehouse floor one after another. Eventually Farral grunted beside him.

"Thank the gods Albriecht hired you," the foreman muttered.

"Half my crew disappears before their shift is over. More often than not leaving me to complete the late offloads myself. The lazy sods, I should fire the lot of 'em" Kael shifted a heavy crate onto his shoulder.

"They can't be afraid of work, sir." Farral snorted.

"Oh? Why's that?" Kael adjusted the crate slightly.

"They'll stand right beside it." For a moment the foreman simply stared. Then he barked out a laugh loud enough to echo through the warehouse. Unfortunately, the oversized ceramic jar in his hands slipped free in the process. It shattered across the floor. Rice spilled everywhere.

"Damn it," Farral groaned through lingering laughter. Kael crouched automatically to help clean the mess before stopping. Something moved within the scattered grain. Maggots were weaving through clumps of moldy rice. Kael frowned immediately.

"Sir… is that normal?" Farral sighed heavily.

"No," he admitted.

"Though it happens more than it should." He crouched beside the ruined grain.

"Sometimes containers aren't sealed properly, or they crack open during transport," he explained.

"Moisture gets in and the food spoils before anyone notices." Kael looked toward the remaining shipment.

"Shouldn't we check the rest?" The foreman chuckled tiredly.

"Good instinct. Seriously, I wish I had ten more workers like you." He grabbed a broom and began sweeping ruined grain aside.

"But that can be done by the next crew. I'll speak with the oncoming foreman. Seriously Kael, go home, Get some rest." Kael hesitated a moment longer before nodding slowly. Something about the spoiled rice bothered him more than it should have.