The Alloy of Law (Mistborn #4)(59)

He turned and moved along the walkway. It hung like a balcony on the north side of the large chamber. Tarson and Clamps stayed behind; they knew he liked to be alone when he faced Mister Suit.

Miles pulled open the door at the end of the walk, and entered Mister Suit’s office. Why he needed an office here, Miles didn’t know; perhaps he’d be keeping a closer eye on operations at this new base. Mister Suit had wanted them here from the beginning. It annoyed Miles that he’d finally had to accept the offer—it put him more closely under his backer’s thumb.

Enough good robberies, and we won’t need him any longer, Miles told himself. Then we can move somewhere else.

Mister Suit was a round-faced man with a full gray-streaked beard. He sat at his desk sipping a cup of tea and wearing an extremely stylish and expensive suit of black silk with a turquoise vest. As Miles entered, he was studying a broadsheet.

“You know I don’t like the smell of those,” Mister Suit said without looking up.

Miles puffed his cigar anyway.

Mister Suit smiled. “Did I hear that your old friend has already located your previous base of operations?”

“Men were captured,” Miles said simply. “It was only a matter of time.”

“They aren’t very loyal to your cause.”

Miles had no response to that. They both knew that most of his men worked for the money, and not for any greater purpose.

“Do you know why I like you, Miles?” Mister Suit asked.

I don’t particularly care if you do or not, Miles thought, but held his tongue.

“You’re careful,” Mister Suit continued. “You have a goal, you believe in it, but you don’t let it cloud your vision. In fact, your cause is not so different from that of my associates and me. I think it is a worthy goal, and you a worthy leader.” Mister Suit turned over his broadsheet. “The shootings at the last robbery threaten to undermine my confidence in that assessment.”

“I…”

“You lost your temper,” Mister Suit said, voice growing cold, “and you therefore lost control of your men. That is why this disaster occurred. There was no other reason.”

“Yes there was. Waxillium Ladrian.”

“You should have been ready for him.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there.”

Mister Suit sipped his tea. “Come now, Miles. You wore a mask on your face. You knew there was a chance he’d come.”

“I wore a mask,” Miles said, keeping his temper with some effort, “because I am a man of some renown. Wax wasn’t the only one who could have recognized me.”

“A valid point, I suppose. But then, with how dramatic you insist on being—cargo that vanishes, rather than just being stolen, it makes me wonder why you avoid being recognized.”

“The drama serves a purpose,” Miles snapped. “I’ve told you. So long as the police are baffled by how we’re getting the cargo, it will keep them making mistakes.”

“And the drama?” Suit said idly, turning over a newspaper on his desk. “The ‘Vanishers,’ Miles?”

He said nothing. He’d explained his reasons before, the ones he let Suit know of. There was more to it, of course. He needed to be dramatic, needed to capture the public’s attention. Miles was out to change the world. You couldn’t do that if people thought of you as common thieves. Mystery, power, a pinch of magic … that could work wonders for his cause.

“No comment,” Suit said. “Well, your reasoning has proven valid in the past. Except when it comes to Waxillium. I’ll admit, Miles, that part of me wonders. Is there some ancient grudge between the two of you I should be aware of? Something that, perhaps, would have caused you to act recklessly?” Mister Suit’s eyes were as cold as iron. “Something that would have made you try to goad him into attacking during that party? So you could fight him?”

Miles held that gaze, then leaned down, hands on the table, fingers gripping his cigar. “I have no grudge against Waxillium Ladrian. He is one of the finest men this world has known. A finer man than you or I, or practically anyone else in this city.”

“And this is supposed to comfort me? You all but say that you won’t fight him.”

“Oh, I’ll fight him. Kill him, if I have to. Wax chose the wrong side. Men like him, men like me, we have a choice. Serve the people or serve the wealthy. He abandoned his right to protection the moment he returned to this city and started mingling with them.”

“Curious,” Suit said. “I’m also one of them, you know.”

“I work with what I have. And besides, you have … other things recommending you. Especially since you did renounce your claim to privilege.”

“Not to privilege,” Suit said. “Merely to title. And I still think you intended to provoke Waxillium. That’s why you shot Peterus.”

“I shot Peterus because he was an impostor,” Miles snapped. “He pretended to seek justice, and everyone praised him for it, but all the while he was pandering to the elite and the corrupt. In the end, they let him come play at their parties, like a favored dog. I put him down.”

Mister Suit nodded slowly. “Very well.”

“I will clean this city up, Suit. Even if I have to rip out its blackened heart with my fingernails, I’ll do it. But you’re going to need to get me more aluminum.”