26 March 1686 of the 6th Era, Smith Road, West District

  Charlotte lazily stretched and slowly sat up, woken up by the bright sun shining through the thin curtains. So far, that was probably the only downside of the room she was staying in.

  Perhaps it was for the better. Mr Brook’s trial was fast approaching, and if he was, indeed, innocent, she had to get him off the hook and find the real perpetrator. And if she only proved the authorities right?.. Then at least she would make sure that no innocent man died.

  “Not really a silver lining,” she murmured gloomily, proceeding to the bathroom to finish up the morning routine. Maybe she would have time to look into that conundrum the church was involved in, though for now, she failed to understand why her services were even required. Several local exorcists and the Nightmare Poets were already dealing with it, and those were experienced people who had previously worked together. And it wasn’t just her who did not understand how an outsider could help with the case. She grinned, remembering yesterday’s confusion and raised eyebrows when she walked into St Madeleine’s Cathedral.

  At least she had Bernard’s full cooperation. She carefully arranged her hair in a tight bun, humming a cheerful tune. If that case could be solved without her help, so be it, and she would only be happier for it.

  There was a polite knock on the door, followed by an equally polite, “My lady, you have a visitor waiting for you at the reception.”

  “Did they introduce themselves?”

  “Mr Antony Levy from the Royal Alchemy Society. He said you had a meeting scheduled for today.”

  “We do, indeed,” she stopped briefly. “Ask him to wait, please. I will come downstairs shortly.”

  ******

  26 March 1686 of the 6th Era, Ledavia Prison

  “You know, you don’t really have to agree to any of my requests. Don’t misunderstand, I am eternally grateful, but you mentioning yesterday that these are your first days off in–”

  “It’s perfectly fine,” Antony gave her a most reassuring smile, but she folded her arms on her chest in reply. He cleared his throat and hastily continued, “Really, this might be just another day at work for you, but imagine my routines. Endless meetings, paperwork, more paperwork, trying to explain to three people that Lord Blackwater cannot be in three different places at the same time unless they agree to his illusion or simulacrum attending… I don’t exactly go around visiting jails or talking to suspects. Also, anything to finally get out of the office. The dust is killing me.”

  “I wouldn’t call this,” Charlotte made a vague gesture at the bleak room with barren walls, a single table, three chairs, and a tiny grated window at the very top, “a pleasurable change of surroundings. Definitely not helping with your dust issues, either.”

  “It’s temporary, and it’s not like I’m the culprit. And as I said, I’ve never visited a prison. It’s… fascinating in its own way.”

  She continued to eye him with distrust, unwilling to give up. Antony sighed and whispered something, but too quietly for her to catch the exact phrasing. Only something about a certain Andrew and his habits.

  The two of them were waiting for the warden to bring Mr Brook in for questioning. The guard was taking their time, though that was hardly surprising: Charlotte was but a private investigator, here on behalf of Mr Brook’s fiancèe. If anything, she had to be thankful that her request was granted to begin with.

  “You do have a point,” she finally gave up. “Besides, you’re already here, so it’s not like I can command you to teleport away.”

  “I doubt that would work. And even if it does, I’m pretty certain it will trigger a number of alarms. Otherwise any mage would be able to come and go as they desire. Imagine the amounts of booze, cigars, and other contraband goods one would be able to smuggle in here. And how much money someone would be making. Until they get caught, of course.”

  Charlotte gave him a somewhat disapproving look, but had to admit that the conjured imagery was indeed entertaining. Besides, she wasn’t really annoyed with his meddling. On the contrary.

  “Actually, I want to ask you a favour. Nothing too serious.”

  “That’s a phrase I hear too often, and it almost always means overtime, or something equally unpleasant,” he looked alarmed, but his eyes remained cheerful, and the corners of his lips curled up in a smile.

  “Mr Brook is also a secretary, and from what you told me I understand that the two of you know each other, and possibly better than you let on,” Charlotte pressed the tips of her fingers together, frowning slightly.

  “Right. I did mention meeting his employer on a fair number of occasions,” Antony lowered his head, admitting that this was, indeed, the case. “We have met before, this is true, though I wouldn’t go as far as to call the two of us friends or even good acquaintances. Two professionals working in the same field, if that is a good enough description.”

  “I do not doubt your integrity or think you withheld crucial information from me. Well, maybe a little,” Charlotte peacefully replied. “I’m still uncertain if your presence here will aid my cause or be detrimental, but… What’s done is done.”

  “I can leave if–”

  “No. Please stay. Listen to what he has to say and pay attention. I’m certain that there are things you will be aware of that I won’t know. Perhaps you’ll notice discrepancies in his account of events, or realise he’s omitting something. Or maybe you’ll be able to come up with a question that would help me better understand the situation.”

  “Have I been promoted to assistant?”

  “You are sharp enough to realise how I came to the conclusion that the two of you know each other,” she looked away, her eyes unfocusing for a moment, and her face making a silly grimace. “A lot of people I’ve met would recoil at such an assumption and accuse me of spying on them. Too bad you have to go back to work tomorrow.”

  “I am beginning to regret not asking for a week off, or even a month,” it was a heavy sigh.

  The door opened, and the guard, a burly tabby catfolk, led in a haggard looking dusk elf with dark grey skin, tired-looking yellowish eyes, and messy long black hair, around the same age as Charlotte or perhaps a bit younger. The man walked over to the empty chair and sat down, his hands in heavy chains and anti-magic sigils trembling slightly as he propped them on the table.

  “Call me when you’re done, but don’t take too long,” the guard walked out and slammed the door shut, standing watch in the corridor.

  “Laureen told me that she asked someone to look into my case, but… Why are you here?” Mr Brook looked at Antony, puzzled.

  “He’s accompanying me today,” Charlotte placed a small card on the table. A very simple one, with the titles neatly omitted.

  “It’s a long story, but if you want the short version of it,” Antony leaned forward slightly, “She’s a friend of a very old and good friend of mine. Some time ago, she wrote a letter asking me if I could show her around Ledavia as she had received a request to conduct some sort of investigation. Yesterday I found out that said investigation was… well, your case. I just couldn’t keep my nose out of it.”

  Mr Brook coughed, trying to hide a wide grin, “I’m not one to refuse help. As long as you’re here to help, of course.”

  “We’re here to make sure no innocent man dies,” Charlotte took out her notepad and a pencil, then quickly glanced at the door and continued. “I’m afraid we don’t have much time, both now and generally speaking, so forgive me if I skip some pleasantries and go over to questions.”

  “I’m not one for smalltalk, either. I doubt discussing the weather or how I’m feeling will help you get me out of here,” he indicated that he was ready to listen.

  “Glad we’re of one mind on the matter. Then let’s begin. Mr Brook, can you tell us what exactly happened on that fateful night? It was all the way back in February, if Laureen provided me with the right date?”

  “Yes, fifth of February,” he briefly closed his eyes, clasping his hands as he did so. “There’s not much to tell, really. It was just me and Lord Welz in the house, so I am afraid no one can confirm or deny what I am about to say.”

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  “Why did he send everyone away?”

  “Queen’s coronation anniversary,” Mr Brook looked at Antony, who curtly nodded. “It’s a national holiday. Didn’t happen often that he gave everyone a day off, but it did happen. I’ve worked for him for thirty five years, pretty much since the day he became head of the family. He would usually be attending the main festivities in Stolberg, but his health hadn’t been the best as of late, so he stayed home.”

  “And his children?”

  “Dancing the night away at Lady Greenforest’s ball. With the exception of young Lord Reginald Welz,” Mr Brook paused. “He was at ‘Kindred’s’.”

  “A gentlemen’s club,” Antony helpfully added. “Sadly of the less reputable kind.”

  “Indeed,” Mr Brook let out a quiet sigh. “As I said, it was just the two of us. I finished some of the letters Lord Welz wanted sent out the next day, read out his schedule for him, which included a meeting with Lord Blackwater. Then I bade him goodnight and went to my room, which is situated on the opposite side of the building. I am sorry to say, but I slept through the entire thing.”

  “Was it typical for Lord Welz to turn in late? If I am not mistaken, he was found in his study,” Charlotte diligently wrote everything down.

  “Yes. He would often stay up until 2:00 AM, or not go to bed at all. Insomnia,” Mr Brook offered. “However, here’s what is strange. When Mr Fincke, the butler, found him, Lord Welz was wearing his morning coat. Uhm, I don’t know how to explain it properly, it’s just that it was way too formal to just sit around in the study.”

  “Was he wearing it when you were leaving the room?”

  “No. It was hanging from the back of his chair as far as I remember.”

  Charlotte thoughtfully tapped her pencil against the yellowish paper, then proposed, “Could he have put it back on for convenience? Let’s say he finally decided to retire, and–”

  “It was buttoned up,” Mr Brook added hastily. “At first I thought the same, but the more I considered it, the more bizarre it got.”

  “So either he put it on because,” Charlotte slightly tilted her head at the thought, “because he was expecting someone, or it was done post mortem. And if it was the latter, why?

  “Was there anything else out of the ordinary? Something amiss, or, on the contrary, an item that shouldn’t have been there?”

  “Can’t say I remember anything like that,” Mr Brook stared at the empty space in front of him. “Obviously, the room was in turmoil. Papers everywhere, the safe open and empty, all of the drawers from his desk emptied, and their contents scattered across the floor… I am sorry for being unable to provide a better description. All I remember is his body in a huge puddle of blood.”

  “It’s fine,” Charlotte reassured him. “Obviously, the missing money was found in your flat… Come to think of it, did you usually stay at Lord Welz’s house or was this a one-time occurrence?”

  “A good question,” he scratched his chin. “Can’t say there was any rhyme or reason. Sometimes I went home, sometimes I stayed. It depended on how late it was, how tired I was, and what the weather was like, as well as if there were any meetings or other errands scheduled for early morning. That night Ledavia was hit by a snowstorm. Northern winds, barely any visibility even during the day, streets barely traversable. Honestly, I was surprised that none of the festivities got cancelled or at least postponed, but people will be people I guess. Perfect weather for someone who wanted to commit a crime without having to worry about witnesses.”

  Charlotte could only agree with that sentiment, but there was no time to start a discussion about the whims of nature, so she continued the questioning, “The money wasn’t the only thing that went missing, is that correct?”

  “Yes. The Northern Star also disappeared.”

  “The Northern Star?”

  “It’s a necklace,” Mr Brook rubbed his forehead, trying to recall the necessary details. “An heirloom of the family, possibly presented to Lord Welz’s ancestor by the previous king of Enua, Tamir, for outstanding service to the Crown. Or at least this is how the story goes. It did look dignified enough to pass for something from the Royal Treasury, I must admit. A large ruby with diamonds adorning it, white gold I think? I’m sorry, I’m not really good with these things.”

  “Did Lord Welz mention anything about its worth?”

  “Priceless,” Mr Brook smirked. “Whatever it cost, I’m certain it would amount to at least a hundred years of my salaries combined, if not more.”

  “That’s… Either you’re not being paid fairly, or that’s a bit too much for a piece of jewellery,” Antony frowned.

  “This might sound a bit overly dramatic, but I’ve seen some things cost an entire country’s yearly income and then some. Nothing to do with the actual value of the precious stones, either,” Charlotte contradicted him. “More often than not it has to do with history, or someone who wore it once a couple hundred years ago, or an interesting irregularity with the centrepiece that suddenly makes the thing unique. Or simply the owner’s greed.”

  “Now that you mention it,” Mr Brook looked up, “there was something like that. The ruby… I believe there was something special about it. When light shone on it in a specific way, you could see a star shape inside. Or was there something special about the type of light, too? Either way, that’s how it got its name.”

  Charlotte wrote the information down, her face not betraying what she thought of it, “Let us suppose for a minute that the theft was but a means to hide the true motive of the crime. Why would someone wish Lord Welz ill?”

  “A few reasons,” Mr Brook was, without a doubt, waiting for the question. “His children have been trying to get their hands on his money for a while now. Young Lord Reginald has a gambling problem. Lady Ariadne has repeatedly gotten into debt due to the desire to own every dress in existence and then some, I am afraid. Lord Marcus… He is probably the only one who hasn’t displayed much hatred towards his father. Openly, that is. He’s also not exactly on the best of terms with his siblings, so I don’t see him often enough to know of his financial situation. And Lord Simon, Lord Welz’s eldest son, was expressing irritation that his father wouldn’t step down. He turned forty last year, so I cannot blame him for being impatient, given that his father was made head of the family at a much younger age.

  “As for those outside of the family… Lord Welz was the head of the city council for fifteen years and was a member of the Royal Alchemy Society council. He made plenty of people happy during his term in the office, but for every person walking away with a contract or a ruling in their favour, there are at least two who are left with nothing. I am certain you can agree with that assessment,” he looked at Antony.

  “I would say five or even a dozen,” he nodded.

  “I can’t really think of anyone who would really go as far as to murder him, however,” Mr Brook finally said. “He did have an argument with Mr Dahlin where the latter promised to feed him to the fish, but that’s neither here nor there. No, really, I don’t know. You might want to talk to his children or his business partner, Lord Crona. Maybe he would know more.

  “Oh. I don’t know if it’s important, but there was someone who wanted to buy the Northern Star. Lord Welz obviously refused.”

  “I take it you don’t know who it was?”

  “No. I only heard him joke about it during a social gathering. By the sound of it, however, they got utterly humiliated for so much as suggesting something like that.”

  “This is definitely worth looking into,” Charlotte agreed and paused for a moment. “Did anything else noteworthy happen just before Lord Welz’s demise?”

  Mr Brook frowned, slightly rocking back and forth in his chair, then slowly shook his head, “Can’t think of anything.”

  “Are you certain? Perhaps he quarreled with someone, or did something out of the ordinary?”

  “Nothing comes to mind,” Mr Brook shook his head, looking at her earnestly. “No, really. There wasn’t anything. Unless you count him having an argument with some hapless fool who begged for money in front of his house as something out of the ordinary, of course. Lord Welz wasn’t exactly known for being charitable and, quite frankly, avoided associating with the lower classes unless absolutely necessary.”

  “Alright,” either there really was nothing, or Mr Brook was a very convincing actor, and she had no means to ascertain which it was, at least for now. She needed to ask one more question, but she knew that it wasn’t a pleasant one, and would probably put an end to their discussion. Was this the right time to do so? She glanced at her notes and decided that it was. “Now… Mr Brook, why were you trying to run away?”

  “I wasn’t…”

  “Please,” her voice remained gentle, but her gaze became sharp and almost unbearable. “I am not here to judge you. I’m not planning to tell on you, either, unless, of course, you have committed an equally horrendous crime and were trying to make a run for it before the authorities could tie you with that case.

  “You’re a smart man. You knew very well that you would become a suspect sooner rather than later, and that it was in your best interests to stay put.”

  “Oh, you think that, but do you know how hard it is for a Nakaran to find work in Enua without being judged? Do you realise how much I had to go through to land a position of a secretary? I am a trained alchemist, Miss Dawntreader, with hundreds of years of experience. The RAS didn’t even consider me, but Laureen landed the job within minutes, because she so happens to not be from Nakara,” he stood up, leaning forward over the table, his face suddenly full of anger. “You’re right. I would have become a suspect. I was the suspect from the very first second. Because who else could have done it? Didn’t matter that I served the man for decades. Decades!” His voice became shrill as he continued. “Why, tell me, would I suddenly want to murder him, steal any of those valuables, why? I was planning my wedding, planning to move to Lundhaven. In the middle of negotiations for a position that had just opened at the Lindau University. Pray tell me why I would suddenly go to such lengths to kill the man when I was the only one in the house? Why stage a robbery, and then feign innocence?” He fell back onto the chair and covered his face with his hands, sobbing. “If I regret anything, it’s that I didn’t run immediately. Being a fugitive is better than this.”

  “Why did you run, Mr Brook?” Charlotte quietly repeated the question after prolonged silence.

  “I might have delivered some documents to someone I cannot name,” his voice was hollow. “I didn’t know they were working for Nakara’s Intelligence. If this comes out, I’m doomed.”

  “Then I’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t,” she stood up and curtsied. Antony got up as well, eyeing her with some level of concern, but said nothing. “I hope next time we will meet under more auspicious circumstances.”

  Once they were outside, Charlotte paused for a moment, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “Is something the matter? You look unwell.”

  “It’s nothing. The smell in that room made me a bit queasy.”

  “Smell?” Antony was genuinely confused.

  “You didn’t feel anything?”

  “Don’t think so, no. Maybe something you happen to be exceptionally sensitive to?”

  She frowned, but didn’t say anything else.