“I started with Third Precinct’s morgue,” he answered with a long, drawn out sigh. “It took me most of the day just to get the forms filled out to even look at their files. I did find reports on charm-related deaths, but I only made it through to the D’s, and there were seventeen cases that fit the profile.”
“You are quite likely at the right spot and asking the right questions, not to mention giving us the perfect list to compare to,” Jamie assured him with an encouraging smile. “Keep at it. Penny, do you think you can go and help him with that tomorrow?”
“I certainly can,” she answered forthrightly.
“Excellent. Gibson?” Jamie asked, turning in her chair to face him. “I know you got a late start compared to everyone else, but did you hit any of the morgues?”
“Only the ones on Parsons Road,” he answered, gesturing to the map. “But that was a bit of a hot spot, that. Twenty-nine confirmed cases, and the undertaker actually had two charms that he’d kept aside. Said he tried to turn them in as evidence to the precinct only to have them rebuff him—I’ll be having words over that.”
“They got tired of disposing of them,” Gerring filled in with a grimace. “So many people figured out that the charms were bad, but were scared of doing anything to them, so they turned them into the precinct. The Magical Examiner got stuck with the job of disposal, got tired of it, and told people to just burn the things.”
I flinched at the notion. Eerily in unison, Seaton and I both demanded, “What is his name?”
Wincing at our loud demand, Gerring held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, silently pleading we not shoot the messenger. “Carr.”
“Interesting,” Jamie observed in a tone that indicated her interest did not bode well for the man. “Garner’s ex-wife reported to Third Precinct too. They apparently have very selective hearing.”
“I’ll have stern words with him tomorrow,” Seaton promised us all in a voice filled with doom. “That is incredibly irresponsible and dangerous. I’ll have the man strung up by his toes for this.”
I dearly hoped that he did. Burning unstable charms was just as likely to cause severe illness to the person near the charm as it was destroyed. That tactic could account for half of the illnesses and deaths reported in this case. Really, I’d thought Sanderson bad. At least his behaviors were more often than not self-destructive.
Wishing to move the meeting along, I queried my partner, “Jamie? What did you and Officer McSparrin discover?”
“Quite a few things. Some of it might or might not be relevant,” she answered forthrightly. “Burns-Cross Demolition did, in fact, have a missing stick of dynamite. They were quite alarmed by that, as they should be. They promised a thorough investigation and audit with the hope that a stick just got misplaced somewhere. We’ve heard back from most of the sixteen places that we visited, still waiting on a few others, but so far that’s the only place for sure that is missing dynamite. We have a list of four powder monkeys who have lost a loved one in the past six months. Two of them lost a grandmother, which I’m fairly sure won’t tie in with our case, but I’ll interview the families tomorrow to double check this.”
I noted this information as well, feeling alarmed myself at the idea of a stick of dynamite just missing. One would think that with such a highly volatile material, it would be better contained and kept track of. Although what that said of the two companies that couldn’t even answer the question….
“There’s a great many victims because of these two idiots,” Jamie tacked on with a groan. “Which doesn’t help our investigation any. I’m almost too sympathetic right now to care if we catch the murderers or not. Seems like they did the world a favor by stopping Garner and Timms.”
“Unfortunately, can’t disagree,” Gibson sighed, slumping back in his chair. “RM, what did you and Dr. Davenforth discover?”
“Interesting things,” Seaton answered, steepling his fingers together. “We made some inquiries of our own today after examining the charms. Allow me to paint the picture for you.
“Trevor Garner as a teenager went through charm school at Harper Institute of Magic. He attended for exactly four semesters before dropping out due to poor attendance and low grades. He was, in fact, failing before withdrawing from the school. We’re not sure of his employment history, but a year later he opened a permit for a vendor shop at the docks, selling charms. That lasted eight months. Then three months later, Charms Against Harm opened on the east side. It was open for exactly a year before closing down. Our erstwhile charm makers dodged multiple lawsuits and fines by declaring bankruptcy—which is not supported by the ledgers we examined; the shop was actually making a hefty profit—and then opened their new shop two months later.”
The entire table groaned in understanding except McSparrin and Gerring. They’d followed to an extent, but I could see the full details of the matter failed to connect in their heads. For their benefit, I further explained, “Garner’s interrupted schooling is very obvious in the charms’ craftsmanship. He used the wrong paper, the wrong ink, included random elements into the charms’ design that we’re not sure would actually function correctly, and used a printing press to do it all with. Those elements combined made the charms dangerously unstable. I couldn’t lay hands on a charm that he’d produced with his previous business, but I believe he repeatedly did this very thing, not having learned from his mistakes. The results bear out with that, at least, and tell us that he truly didn’t understand why the charms failed. From what he learned in his schooling, theoretically it should have. It’s as much a crime of negligence as ignorance.”
“And arrogance,” Jamie grumbled in a rhetorical fashion. “What kind of moron fails school and then thinks he can still make a business out of it?”
“A dead one, now,” Seaton responded scathingly. “Disturbingly, we also found traces of Destroying Angel in the ink.”
Every magician in the room grimaced and Evans swore aloud.
Jamie raised a hand. “Explain for the non-magicians in the room, please.”
“It’s a powerful source, especially if extracted in sprouting form,” I filled in, keeping my explanation concise. “The fungi itself, however, is deadly toxic and isn’t something to be trifled with.”
Pulling a face, Jamie muttered, “Lovely. How deadly is it in ink form?”
“Fortunately not,” Seaton reassured her. “Higher in potency than we care for, but it would make someone sick, not deathly ill. We found an invoice with their records indicating that they had bought a batch of an ink from a reliable retailer. Still, the addition of the Destroying Angel element is oddly out of balance with the rest of the ink, which makes the charms further unstable. Please bear that in mind when handling the charms.”
With the mood of the room, I understood their opinion very well: these two men had neatly dug their own graves. Still, that didn’t excuse vigilantism and I, for one, didn’t like the idea that someone had come up with a creative method of killing Garner, introducing yet another method of murder into the populace. Despite having no sympathy for our victims, I had no desire to let their murderers simply walk free, either. “Do we continue where we left off tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Jamie sighed, pushing her chair back, clearly preparing to stand. “Knowing what and where Garner and Timms came from gives us a clearer picture, but at the moment it doesn’t give us any answers. We still need to know who did the deed. I’m going to return to Burns-Cross Demolition tomorrow. I have to know if that missing stick of dynamite is really missing or not. We might have found the powder monkey’s company if it is.”
If the culprit had stolen from his workplace, then I felt sure he’d fudged the records as well. The manner in which Jamie delivered her intentions suggested to me that she hoped the man hadn’t been able to completely cover all his sins. Detective work, however, more often included eliminating possibilities than discovering clues. This instance represented such an occasion.
; Clearing my throat, I paused the table before they could get their feet under them. “There is one more facet of the case that bothers me. When I went back to retrieve the magical license in Garner’s building, I took a second, closer look at the building. The second story of the building has been entirely blocked off from the first.”
They all looked at each other askance, all but Jamie and McSparrin, who had been with me when we examined the building in the first place.
“You didn’t find a way in?” Jamie inquired sharply.
“I did not. The staircase was removed, there was no exterior staircase or ladder, and every window along the second story has an iron grill placed over it. I’m quite baffled.” Also very, very curious. It might not have anything to do with our case. Then again, perhaps it did. Either way, we needed to find a means of entering the second story and validating that one way or another.
“Henri,” Jamie invited with that sparkly look she got when she contemplated mischief, “why don’t you come with me tomorrow? We’ll stop in and find a way upstairs.”
Knowing very well what she contemplated, I asked dryly, “Are you by any chance contemplating punching your way up through the ceiling?”
She batted her big brown eyes at me. “Maaaybe.”
My partner enjoyed inherent destruction far too much.
“So that’s Dr. Henri Davenforth.” Gibson sat on the bench with both elbows on his knees, a towel in one hand, a glass of water in the other. He looked well warmed up and mussed, as he should, considering we’d already had three rounds of sparring this evening.
I so enjoyed cutting loose with the boys. I could never do this with Henri, he was not the athletic sort. He’d be appalled if I even suggested it. But that was fine. I’d let my easy-going partner curl up with his chocolates and books instead of beating him up in the ring. We all had our quirks. And Gibson was marvelously fun to spar with. He was one of the few men I knew who had strength almost on par with mine, and that made him less breakable.
We’d taken one of the training rooms at the police precinct, as the Kingsmen’s training area was still under quarantine, and it was getting late. I’d definitely worked off the company dinner at this point. It had been the first time in a few days that I’d really felt like eating. PTSD was hard on the appetite. I’d learned a way to cope by cooking for Henri, because anyone would regain their appetite while watching that man eat. I swear, Henri spoke of food the way most men would a sexy woman.
I still breathed a touch too hard, considering, which meant I needed to spar with Gibson more often to keep in better shape. Eyeing him sideways, I gulped down some water before asking, “You sound approving of Henri?”
“Got a good impression of him,” Gibson admitted frankly, returning my sideways look. “He’s intelligent, he’s got good manners, and he doesn’t treat his female colleagues like they’re inferior. Seaton says he’s pulled off a few minor miracles in order to keep you safe and on your feet, which makes me like him even more. He’s just a little…”
“Quirky?” I filled in dryly. “In the best sense, yes, he is. Very staid in some ways, thinks exercise is a dirty word, and has little patience with stupidity. But still, a staunch friend if you need someone at your back. Did you know that he’s actually smarter than Sherard?”
Gibson blinked at me in frank astonishment. “He is not!”
“He totally is. It’s a sore point with Sherard. That magical examination you take to get out of school? Henri’s score is higher. In fact, no one’s scored higher to date.” I felt a little smug about that. Sue me, I could be proud of my partner.
An inarticulate noise of disbelief escaped Gibson’s mouth. He was having some trouble getting his jaw to stay in place. “But if he’s that smart, why isn’t he a Royal Mage himself?”
“Doesn’t have the magical power to back it up, sadly. But that’s part of why he’s such an amazing Magical Examiner. He doesn’t need much power to do the job, just intelligence and a good knowledge base, which he has.” I shrugged, splaying a hand. “And that’s why Sherard consults with him. Those two, when they put their heads together, start talking in a completely different language. I understand one word in twelve.”
“I can see that.” He took another pull, emptying the rest of the glass before setting it aside. “Jams, I’ll be honest. Before you partnered with him, I’d hoped that you’d come back to us. Be a Kingsman.”
I wasn’t completely surprised by this. Many of the men who had helped me find my footing in this world after escaping Belladonna had become like brothers to me. They hadn’t taken my refusal to join the Kingsmen ranks well. Only a few had agreed that I had a good point—I needed seasoning in this world, in this culture, before I could really do the job right. Gibson was one of the more vocal ones about it not being necessary, that he’d show me the ropes. “And now that you’ve met him?”
“It’ll make convincing you harder now that you have him as a partner,” Gibson responded wryly. He lifted a shoulder up in a shrug. “He works well with you, he likes you, and he’s got the magical know-how to keep you safe on cases.”
Not all of the Kingsmen were magical themselves. Some of them had mediocre talents when it came to magic, but amazing detective or combat skills. Gibson did have magical talent, a mid-level magician at best, but was extraordinary in other ways that made up for it. I knew what he meant, but I didn’t want him to feel inadequate. “Come on, Gibs, you know I’d partner with you any day.”
“That I do. I’m just willing to admit he might be a better match for you.”
I slung an arm around his shoulders and hugged him tightly, because that? That was big of him to admit. “Just keep being my sparring buddy and big brother, okay? ’Cause only you can do that.”
He leaned in and kissed my temple. “Like you can get rid of me. But Jams, if you and he don’t work out for whatever reason, you come back to us. We’ll take you in a heartbeat.”
It felt good, having another place to go. In this world where I had no relatives, I still had family. It made it less lonely, and I harbored the hope that the day would come when I wouldn’t always have the fact that I wasn’t from this world at all in the forefront of my mind. “Okay. I’ll remember. Honestly, it…helps. Knowing that you guys will take me in a heartbeat. I feel randomly homesick sometimes and out of joint with this world. Being around you guys is like having a pack of brothers. It’s hard to feel homesick around you.”
“Glad to hear it.” He got that cautious look on his face that people wore just when they were about to ask the question I was sick of hearing. “You’re alright, otherwise? I mean with the anniversary coming up.”
“People need to stop asking me that question,” I responded before I could check the words. Then I thought, no, why not be frank about it? “I’m alright. It’s not like the nightmares have disappeared, and some days I don’t feel like eating, but I’m doing okay. But if one more person asks me that question, I swear to you, I will deck them.”
Lifting both hands in surrender he gave me a grin. “Just asking. One more round?”
I now felt ready to beat him up and immediately stood. “One more round.”
“No, you may not just punch your way through the ceiling,” I informed my partner flatly.
Jamie gave me a pretty pout, fluttering her eyelashes at me like some innocent damsel at a picnic. “But Henri—”
“Sometimes,” I cut her off ruthlessly, still standing on the step of Garner’s charm business, “I do believe that you say outrageous things just to get my dander up. You know very well that doing such a silly thing would be dangerous. We have no idea what’s on the second story, what area of the floor is clear, or anything else.”
She reinforced the pout, which looked patently ridiculous. “But that’s half the fun.”
“You’re deliberately tweaking my nose,” I accused, shaking a finger at her. “Do stop. Go through a window like a normal person.”
“Yo
u take all the fun out of things.” Huffing, she stripped off the light jacket she wore, tossing it into the front seat of the car. Limbering up, she stretched both arms over her head, twisted her waist a little from side to side, then gave me a nod. “Ready.”
I helped her pull the rope ladder from the boot, then magically lifted it in place with a carefully placed wand movement so that it rested just below the windowsill to the right of the door. There, that should be attached quite firmly. It would hold her weight, at least.
“You know,” Jamie mused, and this time she didn’t have a teasing note in her voice, “I bet I could actually parkour this.”
A trifle alarmed, I snapped about to stare at her. “I beg your pardon?”
She flapped a hand at me, still staring at the building with that thoughtful expression. “Like, carve out handholds against the door trip, catch on to the iron grill over the window, stuff like that. I’m seeing enough handholds to make it doable.”
I stared at her steadily, silently daring her to ignore my very nicely placed ladder.
Grinning, she soothed, “I’ll use the ladder. Stop twitching.”
“You’re in quite the mood,” I observed, not entirely pleased about it. She was more reckless than usual, and Jamie took more risks than my heart considered healthy to begin with. My eyes sharpened on her, studying her in a more careful way from head to toe, not sure if this was a symptom or not. I didn’t think her sleep deprived, but she seemed antsier than usual.
“Had four cups of coffee this morning,” she admitted cheerfully as she scaled the ladder as nimbly as any monkey. “I might be a little wired.”
“Heaven preserve us,” I grumbled. That explained her overenthusiasm quite adequately. I hoped the caffeine rush would die down soon—before I was forced to do something drastic like make her run laps around the city.
Jamie paused with her head just below the window sill. In a casual show of strength, she grabbed the iron grate and tore it off, the screws rending in an awful screech of tortured metal. I leaned up as she passed the grilling down to me and grunted at the weight of it, as it was by no means light. Setting it carefully aside, I turned my face and attention back up towards her. “What do you see?”
Charms and Death and Explosions (oh my!) Page 11