from causin' violence when I caught them in the shop."
"What did you do with the coles you had?" Tunstall wanted to know. "You didn't report them."
Garnett turned white and looked at the floor.
I tapped my foot on the tiles.
"Cooper," Tunstall said.
It would be in here, somewhere. He'd need it close so he could put the dry coins back in the money box. I went around and yanked open the drawers of the desk. Garnett started to grab me, until he saw Tunstall clean his nails with his dagger. Then Garnett just covered his face with his hands.
I found the jar of silver paint and the brush in his bottom drawer. I put them on top of the desk.
"You painted silver over the bronze cut in the coles. Then you paid out the false coins to someone else as good ones," Tunstall said. "You've committed colemongering yourself, Garnett. What you say from now on decides whether you visit Magistrate's Court or not. Who has tried to pass coles to you that you can name?"
"Mistress Tansy Lofts had two. A journeyman carpenter buyin' for one of the weekly guild suppers had five. That came from the guild's own fund, so they'll do the reportin' of it to the kennel." He sighed again. "I s'pose you're wantin' to speak with the others? I only have the names of six." He looked at Tunstall, who gave him a pleasant smile. Garnett took a scrap of parchment from a pile of them, uncapped the ink bottle, and picked up a quill. He made his letters carefully. I guessed he'd not been writing so long as to be comfortable at it.
Tunstall watched him for a moment, then looked at me and raised his brows. I got the hint and asked, "Have you recorded the extra coppers you made them pay as a penalty? For your Crown tax?"
Garnett's hand jumped. He left a streak from the parchment straight onto his leather blotter.
"Cooper, you startled him," Tunstall said with mock reproach.
Tansy hadn't mentioned Garnett making her pay a fine. She must have been too ashamed of having coles to say he'd charged extra so she might leave without him calling the Dogs. But it was a reasonable guess. He had to get money for his guards somehow . From the way he'd jumped, he'd not set any of it aside for the King's taxes or for the Dogs' Happy Bag. Naughty baker.
Garnett blotted the line of ink. He was sweating beyond what the heat called for. "Of course I kept the record," he muttered. "Why shouldn't I charge a fee, when I've been given false coin? I have to make up all the money I'm out, after takin' in so many coles before!"
"He lies," I said. "He no more kept a record of it than he reported the coles he got."
Garnett wiped his face on his sleeve.
"Tell the truth, now, Master Baker. It will do you good," Tunstall prodded.
"I didn't record it," the baker said.
"There – that's better. How much is your fee?" Tunstall asked.
Garnett sighed. "Five coppers." He didn't have the air of a liar this time.
"Half a silver! You've a granite set," Tunstall said.
Garnett hung his head. "Better half a silver noble to me than several silver to the cage Dogs, and the court Dogs, and maybe a bath in boilin' oil despite all they pay," he said. "I know my neighbors ain't colesmiths, but Dogs is hard, suspicious sorts. They haul you in, and things get expensive and painful fast."
Tunstall picked up the list. "Six names. That's not so bad." He gave the paper to me and stood. Then he leaned on Garnett's little desk so that he towered over the shrinking baker. "Not a word to anyone, Garnett. Or me and Cooper and Goodwin will visit you again. Start recording that fee you charge, for the tax and the Happy Bag. And send what coles you have left to Jane Street. We know it's hard to find you're getting paid in bronze for hard work. But you don't want us chewing at your ass."
Tunstall never raised his voice. He hardly even growled. Garnett would no more warn the folk who'd paid him in coles than he would eat his own hand. Having six-odd feet of sleepy-eyed barbarian looming over them did influence people
"What did you do with the coles you had?" Tunstall wanted to know. "You didn't report them."
Garnett turned white and looked at the floor.
I tapped my foot on the tiles.
"Cooper," Tunstall said.
It would be in here, somewhere. He'd need it close so he could put the dry coins back in the money box. I went around and yanked open the drawers of the desk. Garnett started to grab me, until he saw Tunstall clean his nails with his dagger. Then Garnett just covered his face with his hands.
I found the jar of silver paint and the brush in his bottom drawer. I put them on top of the desk.
"You painted silver over the bronze cut in the coles. Then you paid out the false coins to someone else as good ones," Tunstall said. "You've committed colemongering yourself, Garnett. What you say from now on decides whether you visit Magistrate's Court or not. Who has tried to pass coles to you that you can name?"
"Mistress Tansy Lofts had two. A journeyman carpenter buyin' for one of the weekly guild suppers had five. That came from the guild's own fund, so they'll do the reportin' of it to the kennel." He sighed again. "I s'pose you're wantin' to speak with the others? I only have the names of six." He looked at Tunstall, who gave him a pleasant smile. Garnett took a scrap of parchment from a pile of them, uncapped the ink bottle, and picked up a quill. He made his letters carefully. I guessed he'd not been writing so long as to be comfortable at it.
Tunstall watched him for a moment, then looked at me and raised his brows. I got the hint and asked, "Have you recorded the extra coppers you made them pay as a penalty? For your Crown tax?"
Garnett's hand jumped. He left a streak from the parchment straight onto his leather blotter.
"Cooper, you startled him," Tunstall said with mock reproach.
Tansy hadn't mentioned Garnett making her pay a fine. She must have been too ashamed of having coles to say he'd charged extra so she might leave without him calling the Dogs. But it was a reasonable guess. He had to get money for his guards somehow . From the way he'd jumped, he'd not set any of it aside for the King's taxes or for the Dogs' Happy Bag. Naughty baker.
Garnett blotted the line of ink. He was sweating beyond what the heat called for. "Of course I kept the record," he muttered. "Why shouldn't I charge a fee, when I've been given false coin? I have to make up all the money I'm out, after takin' in so many coles before!"
"He lies," I said. "He no more kept a record of it than he reported the coles he got."
Garnett wiped his face on his sleeve.
"Tell the truth, now, Master Baker. It will do you good," Tunstall prodded.
"I didn't record it," the baker said.
"There – that's better. How much is your fee?" Tunstall asked.
Garnett sighed. "Five coppers." He didn't have the air of a liar this time.
"Half a silver! You've a granite set," Tunstall said.
Garnett hung his head. "Better half a silver noble to me than several silver to the cage Dogs, and the court Dogs, and maybe a bath in boilin' oil despite all they pay," he said. "I know my neighbors ain't colesmiths, but Dogs is hard, suspicious sorts. They haul you in, and things get expensive and painful fast."
Tunstall picked up the list. "Six names. That's not so bad." He gave the paper to me and stood. Then he leaned on Garnett's little desk so that he towered over the shrinking baker. "Not a word to anyone, Garnett. Or me and Cooper and Goodwin will visit you again. Start recording that fee you charge, for the tax and the Happy Bag. And send what coles you have left to Jane Street. We know it's hard to find you're getting paid in bronze for hard work. But you don't want us chewing at your ass."
Tunstall never raised his voice. He hardly even growled. Garnett would no more warn the folk who'd paid him in coles than he would eat his own hand. Having six-odd feet of sleepy-eyed barbarian looming over them did influence people
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