Nymphadora Tonks and the Liquor of Jacmel

17. Clearing the Decks

Tuesday August 18^th 1994

Tonks approached the door to Claymore's office with a feeling that she tentatively identified as trepidation.

No, who am I kidding - more like sheer panic.

On the couple of previous occasions she'd been in here - her first day, and when she'd told him about her parents' offer of help with the portrait from Gringotts - he'd actually been quite pleased with her. Well, it looks as if this is going to be third time unlucky.

She took a deep breath, raised her hand to knock on the door, then held it back for a moment, with a nagging feeling she'd forgotten something. Then it dawned on her; when she'd changed back from impersonating Ballantyne's postman, she'd chosen her favourite pink-and-spiky hairstyle without giving it much thought. She wasn't willing to bet a bent Knut that it would go down well with Claymore in a bad mood. She screwed up her face and changed to a sober mousy brown, then raised her hand again, then hesitated. Again.

Oh, come on, what kind of Auror are you, Tonks? she asked herself angrily. A nervous one, was the honest reply. She braced herself and rapped on the door quickly, a little more forcefully than she'd really intended.

"Come!" The voice from within the office was as brusque as ever. She opened it tentatively and walked in.

"Sit," he said, indicating a chair with a wave of his hand. Tonks sat, with slight surprise, mildly relieved that he'd given up the psychological advantage of keeping her standing while he berated her, and wondering why. She got her answer when he stood up, walked round the front of the desk, and stood towering over her instead.

"Well?"

"Sir?" She didn't feel like making the first move.

For an answer, he slammed his fist down on the desk, making her jump slightly. "Don't play games, Miss Tonks. I don't appreciate it. Explain to me exactly why you thought it was a good idea to follow a man who sold Class A Non-Tradeable Substances into a little den of his own choosing when you could have arrested him."

Tonks gulped. "I - er -"

"Spit it out, Miss Tonks! I have limited tolerance for listening to this kind of thing."

She forced herself to speak in a voice that was a calm as she could make it. "I just thought ... we didn't have much information ...if I brought him in straight away he wouldn't talk and we wouldn't get anywhere ... " She trailed off at his expression, which hadn't softened in the slightest. "I, er, thought that maybe if I jollied him along a bit he might say something incriminating, if he was working for anyone else, like, and I could always arrest him any time if he didn't ... I mean I thought I'd be OK with Cassius watching my back ... I didn't think he'd be knocked out ..."

"Wrong," interrupted Claymore, cutting her off and leaving her looking slightly foolish. His words were being fired out with the force of curses. "You didn't think at all, Auror. You spent days preparing for a golden opportunity to catch the piece of filth red-handed, and then you tossed it all away flying by the seat of your robes!"

"I ... well, I thought ... show a bit of initiative ..."

"Don't spout catch-phrases at me, young lady," said Claymore in a dangerous voice. "I like to see initiative in my Aurors at the right time, but this wasn't it. This was just a routine sting-and-arrest that you screwed up by getting cocky. What did you seriously expect to get from him in one little walk in the moonlight? A signed confession on lavender-scented parchment? Once we had him in custody, with the evidence of that bottle in your pocket, we would have had him by his wand and short hairs! The Wizengamot wouldn't even have had to think about a guilty verdict, and if he was just a middleman, we would have had a possible ten-year sentence in Azkaban to use as leverage! And now he's vanished into the shadows again, just because one new Auror still wet behind the ears thought she knew what she was doing!"

Tonks swallowed, trying to think of a reply that wouldn't get her head bitten off. A mere "Sorry" didn't seem likely to be adequate.

"You're right, sir," she said quietly, looking down at her hands. It seemed to be a reasonable start; at least he gave her some space to go on. And when it really comes down to it, he is right - damn him.

She took another deep breath and tried not to let herself lapse into insincerity. She didn't dare to catch his eye. "I ... I ... I stepped out of my depth. When I got a few lucky breaks early on, I thought ... er, I didn't think about the pitfalls." She drew another deep breath and risked raising her head to look at him directly. "Yes, I screwed up, sir. I know that. I ... I don't have a good excuse. Please ... just give me a chance to learn from this and get ... and get it right next time."

Claymore looked at her without a trace of a smile, but when he spoke, his tone of voice was at least very slightly less biting. "You'll get another chance, because you are new and inexperienced, and because your particular skills are a good fit for this investigation, and because, frankly, I don't have so many staff to spare that I can pull them off a case for one mistake. Be warned, Miss Tonks. You have been fortunate, or unfortunate, enough to have been immediately assigned, straight from training, to what turns out to be a serious investigation. An investigation that I am now officially raising the status of, given these latest developments. The best way - no, make that the only way - that you can mollify me is to get results on it. But any more major blunders like this, any more attempts to conduct your own personal private investigations, and you'll be spending your next year on duty guarding the Minister's teacups. Understood?"

Tonks could feel her heart rise into her mouth. "Yes sir," she said as firmly as possible.

"Very well. Now what did chummy have to say for himself?"

"Sir?" said Tonks again, in surprise at the abrupt change of subject.

"Your prisoner, Auror. The one you have got, which is at least something retrieved from the wreckage. What has he said?"

"Oh, ah ... nothing much yet," said Tonks reluctantly. "He claims he was just helping out someone he knew in a fight. Cassius gave him the line about how he could get out of some of the trouble he was in if he cooperated, but he didn't say anything right away. We left him to think it over for a bit."

"Good. Right, back to work with you then. And send your partner in here. I want a word with him too."

"Yes sir." Tonks leapt up with alacrity; she'd expected the grilling to be a lot longer, although she didn't like the sound of Claymore's last comment. She had to restrain herself from actually running across the room back to her desk. From the look on Cassius' face when she passed on what Claymore had told her to say, he didn't like the sound of it either.

"See you later, Tonks," he said in a gloomy voice as he left, nodding at Rhiannon Davies, who was just arriving as he did so. She dropped into the chair he had vacated and looked at Tonks with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

"Been having a cosy chat with old Egbert?" she said.

"Ha ha," said Tonks feebly, still feeling chastened.

"Never mind, love," said Rhiannon. "We've all done something like that. You know - unbelievably stupid." She grinned. "Welcome to the club. When I started around here, they told me there are just three main things that you need to learn - don't leave your partner behind, stay on the right side of the boss, and never play cards for money against Mad-Eye Moody. You seem to have done your best to ignore them."

Tonks chuckled nervously. "Um, two out of three's not bad?"

"Only because Moody's retired."

"Oh." Whoever Mad-Eye Moody is?

Now that Tonks had managed to get past the actual interview, she was beginning to recover a little of her usual cheerfulness. She was also trying very hard to think of ways to get the case back on track again. "Hey, Rhi," she said, as one occurred to her. "Can Gogol access the ticket list for the World Cup, do you think?"

"Yes, he can." Seeing Tonks' look of surprise that she could answer this straight away, she explained: "Donnie asked me to check the position of his seat a couple of days ago. There's actually a complete seating plan. Any of the security staff can access it."

Tonks perked up a bit. "Right. In that case, I'm going to look up the Blackstocks."

She did. It proved to be easy; the WEB Access contained not only an attendance list, but even a map of the campsites and the known bookings. Tonks found the Blackstock reservations after only a short search; they were in prime positions among the really expensive seats and upmarket tents. It looked like O'Gregan had analysed the situation correctly, and Mr Blackstock really was making sure that his family were seen in the places expected of socially ambitious wizards.

As she flicked through the seat listing to see who else might be nearby, to her surprise she caught sight of what looked like a large Scrimgeour family block. Well, well, Cassius, she thought. I didn't know you were that well off, you lucky sod.

Since she was already there, she also looked up the name of Ashford. Mackenzie himself wasn't going, as far as she could see - she couldn't really blame him under the circumstances, as a public event like the World Cup would be an ideal opportunity for someone to take another pot shot at him. But among the cheaper seats, she noticed an early block booking of four, listed as Mickey Ashford and partner, Abby Ashford and Charlotte Perks.

The last name made her pause for a moment until she remembered that she was Ashford's other niece (clearly his sister's daughter, she realised after a moment's reflection). She shook her head guiltily; she'd left the nephew and nieces to O'Gregan and Cornworthy to deal with, and it hadn't even really registered with her that one niece had a different surname! To be fair, Cassius had concentrated on the Beatrice Easton angle of the case as well - and look how well that's turned out, her inner voice reminded her - but she suspected that he'd probably kept himself fully up to date on the details of the case. She grimaced. She was definitely going to have to buck her ideas up if she didn't want to end up guarding teacups.

She made a note of the seat numbers and tent locations. With a bit of luck, she would be able to kill two pixies with one curse and take a look at what her suspects were doing while she was on guard duty. Come to think of it, if the Ashford offshoots have cheap tickets they're probably on the campsite already. That should at least keep them out of mischief, if they were planning any.

*****

Cassius had returned by the time she'd finished, and was chatting to Rhiannon with a chagrined look. He made a face as Tonks joined them.

"That wasn't one of the more pleasant interviews of my career."

"What did he say?" asked Tonks with some trepidation.

"Quite a lot. Mostly on the subject of watching my back and not letting novices wander off on their own," he explained ruefully. "The worst of it is, he's perfectly right. And I think he makes the point a bit more forcefully with me because he knows I can remember him when he was a novice himself, back in the early 1950s."

Tonks coloured slightly, feeling bad again. "Oops. Sorry. No, I really am, Cassius, look - "

He held up a hand to cut her off. "Never mind that now, Tonks. Water under the bridge and all that - we still have a case to deal with, yes? The most interesting news on that front is that he's stepping the investigation up to a Priority B and combining it with the Ashford case."

Tonks raised her eyebrows. Priority B? He's definitely starting to take it seriously then. As far as she could remember, the only current Priority A case was the hunt for Sirius Black.

"We're supposed to work closely with Donnacha and Arnold" - again he held up a hand - "yes, I know we were doing that already, but now it's official. He's also allocated us some of Rhiannon's time, so we can call on her when she's not needed for her Muggle-killing case." Rhiannon smiled at Tonks' look of surprise.

"Great! How's that going, Rhi?"

She shrugged. "It isn't. Haven't had a new incident for a couple of months. Maybe he's been lying low, or out of the country. Or maybe he's just too caught up in World Cup fever to bother. Of course, if we've any luck he'll have tripped over his robes and broken his neck, but I'm not optimistic. Anyway, I'm at your disposal until we get either another incident or a new lead. Well, at Cassius' disposal - he's coordinating."

"Yeah?" Tonks was intrigued by this. "Claymore couldn't have been too angry, then?"

"A matter of seniority, perhaps," said Cassius. "Or maybe he just thinks the rest of you have more important things to do." He shook himself. "Never mind. Rhiannon, can you ask Donnacha and Arnold to meet us tomorrow morning at 11? I'll book a conference room."

"Sure, Cassius," said Rhiannon. She winked at Tonks and walked away.

"Very well then. As of the weekend, most of us are going to be away from work for what could be anything up to a week, so we should be clearing the decks of as much as possible beforehand," he said briskly. "I think we need to review everything we have and plan out what we're going to do next in detail, that's why I'm calling the meeting. We've had one setback, but we still have a number of avenues open to us."

"Sorry," said Tonks again in a small voice. She didn't seem to be able to stop apologising today.

He looked at her thoughtfully. "Apology accepted, but there's no need to keep making them," he said. "Just learn from the experience, that's all I ask. In a way, you were a bit unlucky to be dropped straight into a significant case without having a chance to cut your teeth on smaller stuff first."

Tonks looked at him curiously. "That's what Claymore said, more or less. Why did he do it then?"

He snorted. "Because we're so short on staff at the moment. The Department is having real trouble getting qualified Auror trainees. If it gets any worse they might have to reduce the entry requirements, or start promoting from the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol again."

"You're kidding!"

"I wish I was. Merlin help us if we ever have a major long-running crisis again. Look at the World Cup planning - they're having to draft in all sorts of people from other departments to help. There were so few new Aurors added to the ranks from your class."

Tonks shook her head. "That was only because they put some foreign trainees in the class. Help out the smaller overseas Ministries ... oh." What she'd just said suddenly dawned on her .

"Yes, oh. It was the only way they could get enough candidates to make running the course practical. I wondered at one point if they'd insist I took part if I wanted to come back, instead of just sitting at the back from time to time and making notes on what had changed. In fact, I don't think they've actually started a new course since your group finished. They're having to hold it open until they have enough applicants. Didn't you ever wonder why you never see any of your classmates around here?"

"Well, yes, I suppose, but ..." She realised that in the excitement of starting the job, she'd lost touch with most of them, apart from the occasional owl. "So, erm ... where are they then?"

"They had to split you among the offices to make up shortfalls. Usually they start most of you here, but this time a couple went to Rufus' Division up in Edinburgh, I believe Dublin and Birmingham got one each, and I think three went to Cardiff - they were very short-staffed. You're the only new Auror who was posted to Central."

"Why me?" said Tonks curiously. This was another thing she was already not liking the sound of very much.

Cassius shrugged. "Egbert Claymore, I'm afraid. As head of Central Division, working out of the Ministry offices, he has more access to Amelia Bones and more influence with her than any of the Division heads out in the sticks. Which, let me tell you, does not make him popular with my young great-nephew Rufus - well, my not-so-young great-nephew by now, actually - who would have dearly loved his job. Egbert likes to take first pick of the trainees he thinks have the most potential, to see if they live up to it. And as you lived in London already and had some local knowledge ... that was a bonus."

Most potential? Live up to it? Oh. Great. Tonks shook herself; she could almost feel the additional pressure building on her. "But ... it wasn't like I was top of the class in everything!" she said doubtfully. Cassius smiled, as if he'd expected her to react that way.

"No you weren't, but you were in some things," he said patiently. "And you do have that one power none of the rest of us do, remember. I'm sure Egbert would have wanted to see that in action at first hand. It was probably why he was so enthusiastic - for him - when he assigned you to me. And probably why he was so annoyed with you when ... when this happened."

Tonks could feel her face burning. "Oh great," she said with indignation. "That's all he cared about, was it? That I can Metamorphose? Get the freak in here, see what she can do?"

"No, but it helps," said Cassius hastily. "Regardless of your, um, special talent, he wouldn't have brought you here if you hadn't actually been good, young lady."

"Oh. Thanks." Tonks left it at that, but she still wasn't happy about it. Oh well. Just one more complication to add to the list.

*****

Wednesday August 19^th 1994

Fortunately, by the following morning's meeting, everyone concerned seemed to tacitly agree to avoid recriminations and just do the best they could with the leads on hand. Tonks and Cassius were grilled by the others for every last detail they could remember about their visit to the Toad and its aftermath, but they were unable to think of anything that hadn't already gone in the reports.

"How's your prisoner doing, Cassius?" asked O'Gregan. "Any luck with getting the boy to spill his guts, now?"

"Not so far," Cassius told him resignedly. "I thought he seemed to be cracking yesterday when we brought him in, but when I saw him today he hadn't made his mind up one way or the other. He didn't say anything new."

"I'll bet he knows more than he's telling though," said the Irishman. "Even an ignorant bowsie like him must realise his story's got more holes than a gnome colony?"

"Can we try to get a Veritaserum warrant again?" asked Tonks hopefully. O'Gregan snorted, and none of the others looked particularly impressed by the suggestion.

"Unfortunately not, Tonks, " explained Cassius gently. "We only have an assault charge against him, after all." He shifted, unconsciously seeming to move into what she had come to think of as his 'lecture posture'. "The Wizengamot may be willing to stretch a point with sentencing if they suspect there's more to a case, but these days they don't like handing out coercive interrogation warrants unless there's a pressing need. Too many scandals in the first few years after the war, I'm afraid."

"Oh."

"Yes, well, never mind," said Rhiannon. She grinned. "Look, I've only heard the details of these cases second-hand, from pillow talk" - O'Gregan had the grace to look slightly embarrassed at this - "so suppose I ask you where you are and you tell me. OK?" Everyone else nodded.

"Right. Tonks, Cassius: are there any clues at all yet to who the man you met was?"

Tonks shook her head regretfully. "No, not really. He kept his face well hidden, and his voice disguised. And everyone at the pub claims they only knew him by sight. Might even be true. Does that mean he's someone with a respectable face to keep up?"

"Could do, but not necessarily. He's in a potentially dangerous trade, after all. OK, then, this Ballantyne bloke. Any known associates?"

"No-one specific," said Cassius. "A few of our people, and the Patrol chaps, remember him vaguely in connection with cases they'd worked on, but that's all. He's either insignificant, or quite canny, or has some useful friends, or even all of the above. As far as we can tell, he does a certain amount of dealing in items of questionable provenance, and acts as a sort of errand runner for hire by people with shady business. We're not sure if he's closely associated with anyone in particular. He doesn't seem ever to have been important enough to really attract our attention."

"Ah. One of those. The Ashford case, then. Do we have any more information on his enemies, or potential enemies?"

"The local Patrol are keeping an eye on this Arkwright fellow, but he hasn't done anything much since they started," said O'Gregan. "I did find out today Ashford's name is up for a big licence to import dragon's eggs and stuff - they only hand out a limited number of them, so they do, because of the danger, and it's come down to him and a fellow called Peregrine Witherspoon. No suggestion either of them would use foul play, though - well, not that foul, anyway. I don't suppose they'd be above spreading a rumour or two hinting that the other poor spalpeen wasn't up to it."

"What are his relatives up to?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, I'm afraid. Mickey's been very quiet recently, hasn't been hitting the town like he used to. The girls have mostly stayed at home. I don't think our Mackenzie wants them calling round until he knows what's happening, and I can't say I blame the poor fellow."

"They're going to the Final," Tonks chipped in. "Can we keep an eye out for them while we're on patrol, Rhi?"

She nodded. "If we get the chance. Right, the enchanted instrument nickers - I can tell you about that, actually. I had a word with Ellie, but there's no news on that front. She's coming round to the idea it was probably a foreign buyer, in which case we've no chance of finding them unless we catch the people who took it. Unless it was your Blackstock man? Is he at the Final as well, Tonks?"

"Yeah. They're in the posh seats - near you, Cassius, actually."

He looked surprised. "Really? I'll have to see if I can talk to him. You never know what people will let slip if you just chat to them. Have you found out anything more about his daughter?"

"Not much," said Cornworthy glumly. "We have her social calendar, and she could have been at the Toad that night. She was supposed to be at home - cried off some sort of party to stay in - but there's only a house-elf as witness to that, and you can't trust a word they say about their masters."

"House-elf?" said Rhiannon in surprise. "How did they get one of those?"

Cornworthy shrugged. "The Relocation Office fixed them up. I suppose it's one of those things you just have to have if you want to break into high society, like Gladrags' best robes and the latest model broomstick. I wouldn't know. You don't get many of them available, do you?" He looked around hopefully for an answer.

"Not usually," said Cassius. "Actually, there was one little fellow who came round last year looking for work, but he wanted to be paid, and I don't suppose that would go down well with the people Blackstock would want to impress. I couldn't do anything for him, there's not nearly enough for a house-elf to do in my home. He must have been desperate even to ask."

"Very well," said Rhiannon. "I'll skip over the poor witch who the stuff may have been used on, because she's on the other side of the world now, and I don't think she wants to come back. The Gringotts case, then; do we know of anyone who's spending like a sailor when they shouldn't be?"

"I've got a few names," said Cornworthy. "Dodgy types who seem to have come into a bit of money recently. No-one who's actually been flinging sacks of Galleons around, though. If we had fair warning the next time it happens, that might help."

Rhiannon's smile was fading rapidly. "It's looking pretty much like we don't have anything very definite, then?" she said. "Would that be a fair summary?"

Tonks hesitated briefly, wondering whether she should tell them about her arrangement with her parents. She decided with reluctance that the rest of the team really did need to know about it, although they didn't need to know the details. "Actually, we do have a contact who'll tip us off if anything happens at Gringotts," she said carefully. "One of my ... Knockturn Alley acquaintances promised to inform me." She crossed her fingers below the table. That had been the agreed cover story, but it did sound rather thin when she said it out loud.

"They did?" asked O'Gregan with annoyed surprise. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I had a word with Claymore," she explained hastily. She really didn't want to get anyone else's back up at this point. "He said - insisted - that I keep it as quiet as possible until it paid off, if it ever does. But I thought you should know?"

"Well, that's something, at least," said Rhiannon brightly. "They can get the word to you quickly without being found out, I take it? What happens if you're not available?"

"Er, yes, they said they'd contact me via the mirror phone," said Tonks. At the looks of disbelief on the faces of her colleagues, she added hastily, "It's got that Muggle system link thing. They only need to know the, um, number, and they can contact me without it seeming suspicious."

"Good," said Cassius crisply. He glanced at Tonks as if unconvinced that she wasn't hiding something, but let it go. "Pass on the numbers for me and the central contact as well, for emergency use only. We don't want to lose our chance at this."

"Will do," said Tonks. She realised that she'd made it sound as if a shady contact would be Apparating to somewhere with a Muggle phone available, and decided to leave it at that. She was quite sure that her mother wouldn't want the entire Department pestering her.

Rhiannon Davies looked more cheerful at this news, possibly because it meant at least she was moving to work on a case with one more lead than her own. "Cassius, I'll assume you'll keep working on Ballantyne. When do you have to charge him by?"

"Friday," he replied. "We'll probably have to let him go then if he can bail his way out, but I think that might not be a bad thing on the whole. At least we can keep an unobtrusive watch on him and see who he talks to."

"Fine. Oh, this bookshop. Your suspect met the Easton woman there? Is anyone going back to ask her about it?"

Tonks and Cassius looked at each other. "We'll see to it," he said.

"This lady friend of Cassius's" - he grimaced as Rhiannon said this - "the one who let the Kneazle out of the bag to Beatrice Easton's husband. Is someone going to tell her she's been a naughty girl? Cassius? Are you going to do that job yourself?" She grinned again.

"I already did," he said with dignity, ignoring their looks of surprise. "I called round last weekend, while you two were indulging yourselves in debauched drinking sessions from Land's End to John O'Groats. We had a long talk, and she was quite contrite and promised not to talk to him again - well, not about Auror business, anyway." Tonks looked at him with interest, but he avoided her eye determinedly.

Rhiannon clapped her hands. "Great. Is there anything you want us to do before the World Cup then, Cassius?"

"Nothing specific, I don't think," said Cassius. "Keep up the pressure on Ballantyne, of course, and if we have to let him go arrange to keep an eye on him. Erm, Arnold, can you take charge of that, because, um, ..."

"... I'm not going to the World Cup?" he finished with a touch of irony. "Never mind. I'm not that big a Quidditch fan anyway. I'll organise some Enforcement Patrol help. Enjoy yourselves."

"Oh we will," said Rhiannon with a grin. "Just think, if this Irish git here had had any sense, he'd have got in for free like me and Tonks. Always helps to have a word with the Head of the Sports Department. It's not what you know, it's who you know, you see."

O'Gregan snorted again. "Ah, I'll remember that when I sit back in my comfortable seat and, out of the corner of my eye, see you two standing there on your feet again, far below, as the game goes into the fourth day. I have been saving up my Knuts for this for a long time. I told you to keep some holiday back and have faith that we would make it to the Final, did I not?" He added as an afterthought, "And if you think I am going to spend any effort at all being jealous of Mr Bagman, well you have tried that before, my girl, and a very feeble attempt it was indeed." He turned to Cassius. "Where are you seated, then, old lad?"

Tonks chortled. "Oh, they've got a whole Scrimgeour block by the look of it," she said. "His family must be richer than Croesus!" Even O'Gregan looked slightly disgruntled by this. Cassius smiled.

"We're comfortably off, yes, but my great-nephew Brutus actually got us the tickets. He's also a good friend of Ludo Bagman."

The name buzzed at the edge of Tonks' memory for a moment until she got it. "Wait a minute. This great-nephew is Brutus Scrimgeour?"

"Yes."

"Brutus 'The Beater's Bible' Scrimgeour?"

"The very same. Ludo Bagman looks on him as something of a mentor in the art of hitting large lumps of enchanted iron at people, so naturally he was very happy to arrange seats for us all." He winked at them as he went out of the door. "It's not what you know, it's who you know, you see."