“My, he was a busy man.”
“Yes,” Lornis said, musing. He looked at a list in his hand. “Reggis seemed able to move in all circles, from barmaid to Lady of three-star, even four-star lineages. It doesn’t feel right.”
“I know.” Draius moved around her deck to sit. “I never understood his appeal.”
“No, I didn’t mean that. I mean his murder doesn’t feel related to his womanizing.”
She smiled. “Your instinct is right. This murder doesn’t have the signature of a personal vendetta or sexual jealousy. In those cases, there is often disfigurement of the face or genitals. Remember, this is no crime of passion and that’s why you can’t read the emotion or motives.”
“You’ve said that before. So why do Ponteva and Miina have to grind through all these interviews?”
“Because one thing I learned from Rhaffus was to be thorough. No lead should be left to dangle, because there’s always the chance that the unlikely person may be your culprit. And we might learn something useful from these interviews that helps us close this case.”
“But you’re not bothering to follow these leads yourself.”
“No. I trust Ponteva’s determination to close them out for me, and I can follow the more interesting, unconventional leads.”
“Speaking of which, I reviewed the files regarding the robbery at the Royal Library.” Lornis spoke in a neutral tone. If he questioned her actions yesterday, then he was keeping his doubts to himself. But, if he started gossiping about her treatment of the librarian, and talk of her sidestepping the magistrates to go straight to the King came to the captain’s ears…
Draius suddenly realized how tenuous her position really was. She wondered how savvy Lornis could be; would he take advantage of her mistakes and ruin her? He was different from Jan, not as politic or ambitious. Certainly, he’d not yet showed the ruthlessness she’d seen in her husband. She watched his bright, alert face as he talked, looking for secondary motives.
“Erik took statements from librarians, clerks, and students that had visited the Royal Archives for an eight-day before the robbery was discovered. Unfortunately, no one knows when the materials were stolen, only when the theft was discovered.” He appeared to be totally immersed in this case, and nothing else. How did such a political innocent jump to the rank of lieutenant, and gain the captain’s trust?
“Can you tell why the case was closed? Did Usko say anything?” She kept her voice low.
“There were no suspects. Usko says Erik closed the case as ‘unsolvable’ after two erins, over his objections.”
Something in his face made her ask, “But you don’t believe him?”
He looked uneasy. She stepped to the door and looked into the outer office, which was empty. After she nodded, he said, “I just can’t put my finger on it, but something doesn’t feel right. Granted, Erik ran this office with an iron hand and Usko couldn’t complain to you or anyone else.”
She didn’t know Usko very well, either, since the clerk had been attached to the Office of Investigation after Erik took over. However, she was beginning to trust Lornis’s perception and intuition; perhaps this was his talent, and the reason the captain had assigned him as her deputy.
“Keep an unobtrusive eye on our clerk, when you can,” she said. “And I’ll need your help to go through all the pub’s rooms today.”
Lornis smiled, jumping to his feet with sinuous grace. “It’s close enough, the weather’s nice, so I assume we’ll walk?”
“Yes, it’s a beautiful day for a quiet stroll.”
Lornis took the hint. He was silent as she took the lead, setting a stiff pace with her long legs. Without any unnecessary chatter, they dodged carriages and made their way to the pub in less than half an hour.
They sat in the common room, exactly where they’d been sitting the evening of the murder. About half the other tables had customers who were ordering and consuming the modest mid-day meal offered by the tavern.
Mainos, the manager of the Sea Serpent, hurried over to their table. “Officer Draius, you’re hurting my business. Keeping those rooms closed is costing me in gold every day!” He wrung his hands melodramatically.
“I have a hard time believing you count your daily earnings in tyr.” She looked about. The interior of the pub looked significantly shabbier in the mid-day sunlight.
Mainos offered them a meal at a discount, and while Draius refused both the discount and the meal, Lornis bought a bowl of stew and put it down in record time. He ordered a second bowl while she talked with Mainos, who tried to convince her of the hardships he suffered.
“I rent those rooms out hourly—not for what you think,” he added hastily, seeing her expression. “I rent them for private card games and meetings. For instance, Andreas and his Society for the Restoration of Sorcery were supposed to meet here this afternoon, but now I’ll lose that rent.”
“Do they meet here often? How many people?” Draius was intrigued.
“These are only the top members, usually five or six of them.” Mainos leaned forward and added in a low voice, “Andreas says it’s business for the society, but I think all they really do is play cards.”
“Well, we only need to examine the last two rooms, so I’ll let you open the others if we can use one of those rooms for our interviews.”
“Anything to help the Guard.” Mainos brightened at the prospect of having at least a few rooms to let.
Two rooms were opened and Draius used one to take a second statement from Mainos. Although it was much too late to get accurate information, she hoped something new might present itself. He recounted everything he remembered from the night of the murder, but his memory was already blurring. She heard nothing remarkable in his account of Fairday night, so she moved on to the subject of Tellina, hoping to find some connection between the murders.
“Yes, I met Tellina on the day Reggis was murdered,” Mainos said. “He came in for a meal.”
“Do you remember where Tellina was when the body was discovered?” Lornis asked, eagerly jumping into the interview.
“Oh, he was long gone by then. Tellina left right after taking the mid-day meal.”
“Did you rent the third room again that day, before the councilman took it?” Draius asked.
“Twice.” Mainos provided the names of the clients.
She continued her questions while Lornis made notes. Had Mainos ever seen Reggis and Tellina together? No. Did he know if they had a business, or personal, relationship? No. Had he seen Tellina after Councilman Reggis was murdered? No. Draius sighed. So far there was no connection between the victims, aside from their patronage of the Sea Serpent.
“Can you send the barmaid up to speak with us?” she asked.
“Certainly, Raivata’s just come on shift.”
“Have her bring me some tea,” called Draius as Mainos left the room. Thinking over her small collection of clues, Draius got up and went to the window. She stared down at the alley between the buildings.
“My, my. What pretty hair.” The voice was sultry. Draius unconsciously touched her long braids as she turned, then realized the compliment wasn’t meant for her.
Raivata stood in the doorway, holding a cup of tea. She bore little resemblance to the weeping, screeching ball of misery that Draius threw toward Lornis on the night of the murder. She seemed taller, more statuesque. Right now, she ogled Lornis with frank appreciation.
Lornis looked up from his seat at the table and smiled back. He sat sideways to the door, and his hair divided across his shoulder in shining cascades. Raivata threw back her shoulders, causing her breasts to mound higher, and sashayed smoothly across the room to flounce into the chair facing Lornis. She didn’t spill a drop of tea, which she set down in front of him.
Draius cleared her throat. “The tea is for me,” she said, getting barely a glance from the barmaid.
“You look like ‘The Hunter Chieftain,’” Raivata said. She leaned close to Lornis and her breasts thr
eatened to fall out of her bodice.
Draius’s eyebrows rose so high she felt her eyelids stretch. Looking at Lornis in a new light, she suddenly saw his resemblance to the mosaic the barmaid referred to. It ran across one wall of the Palace of Stars, and its source was older than the building itself. When the Palace had been built, an artist created the mosaic from an ancient tapestry woven by one of the original Tyrran tribes. The faded and frayed tapestry pre-dated the arrival of the Phrenii and the Meran blood introduced into their ancestry.
On the wall, the artist used chips of stone to form a hunter galloping on his horse over the Tyrran plains, carrying a spear. The hunter had brown hair streaming behind him, his angular face narrowed to a sharp chin, and his eyes were a warm brown. If Lornis put a silver circlet on his brow, he would have been the exact image of the Hunter Chieftain.
Lornis’s smile broadened. The barmaid’s hand moved to cover his, but he smoothly transferred his right hand to the teacup and slid it toward Draius, his gaze never leaving Raivata. “About the murder…?”
The barmaid looked blank.
“We’d like to talk about the murder of the councilman,” said Lornis.
Raivata pouted. Her knees touched his. “I’d really like to forget about that. I must’ve told the watch the story three times already.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me what happened, one more time.” Lornis patted her knee, which seemed to mollify her. She launched into her story, playing up the drama.
Draius reached for her tea and sipped it. Lornis was handling Raivata well, deftly sidestepping her advances and bringing her back to her story, trying to find new details, checking consistency. I guess I get to be the aggressive interrogator. Guard training covered the passive-aggressive roles that they played when questioning witnesses or suspects, and Lornis seemed to have a natural talent for interviewing.
Raivata finished her story, providing no new information. After she finished, she reached forward and carefully selected a lock of long shiny hair resting on Lornis’s chest. She started winding it about her finger, but there was still an arms-length between them. Lornis seemed entirely unconcerned with her gradually shortening that distance. Draius knew his attitude would only encourage the barmaid, but did he know?
Lornis looked up from his notes and smiled at Raivata. Of course he knows his effect on women. The lock of hair was starting to tighten.
“Why did you go to the fourth room Fairday evening?” he asked pleasantly.
The barmaid blinked and stopped twisting the lock.
“Weren’t you supposed to meet the councilman in the third room that night?” Lornis asked. His voice was still affable, but there was an unyielding quality in it. Raivata dropped the lock of hair. The pout came back on her face.
Draius felt it was time for her to take up the aggressive role and distract the barmaid. “The King’s Law requires that you be truthful with us. If we find you’ve lied to us, we can charge you with obstructing our duty.”
Raivata finally acknowledged Draius by shooting her a sharp look, but quickly regained her composure. She took some time to smooth her long curls about her face before saying, “Yes, we were to meet in the third room, but he was in the fourth room. What does that matter?”
“So Mainos doesn’t know you have a master key.” Lornis gave her a conspiratorial smile.
A quick, guarded look flashed across Raivata’s face. “You won’t be telling him, will you?”
“If you tell us why Reggis was in the fourth room that night, I won’t be telling Mainos anything.”
Raivata’s answer wasn’t very illuminating. Apparently Reggis was in the habit of renting both the third and fourth rooms at the same time. Raivata had checked the third room first, but when he wasn’t there, she tried the fourth room to find it locked. She had quietly pulled out her master key and opened the door.
“So the councilman never told you why he would rent two rooms. Didn’t he confide in you?” Lornis asked.
“Of course.” The maid sounded a bit miffed. “He needed my advice. He said I provided him with pers—perspective. He said I had sharp insight.”
Draius looked down quickly at her tea and concentrated on not smiling, coughing, snorting, or making any other sound that might be construed as derogatory.
Lornis ignored the insinuation that Raivata provided the King’s Councilman with vital information. “Anything particular on his mind this past two eight-days?”
“Oh, yes,” Raivata replied. “There was the vote for raising taxes on imports from Groyga, how to handle the Groygan ambassador, and some trade he was involved in—I guess it wasn’t going well.”
“Can you remember the specifics of that? Was this some sort of commerce? Shipping, perhaps?” Lornis jumped on this point that might connect Tellina and Reggis. Also, it was unusual for a King’s Council member, an established politician, to be involved in trade. Managing business was normally the work of women.
Raivata frowned while she thought, and Draius hoped she wouldn’t overtax herself.
“I think it had to do with shipping foodstuffs. Reggis thought it was too soon to ship them because the goods would spoil.” The maid’s face cleared, directing a smile to Lornis. Apparently she wasn’t familiar with how foodstuffs spoiled.
Draius looked down at her tea again.
“Of course.” Lornis smiled.
Raivata didn’t know much about the councilman’s trysts outside of her time spent with him, and couldn’t provide information about his other relationships. Lornis thanked her for her cooperation
“Anything to help, Lieutenant. You can interview me any time.” Raivata leaned over as she got up, nearly catching Lornis’s nose in her cleavage. As she walked around his chair she trailed her fingers along his sleeve. “I hope to speak with you again.”
“I’m certain you will.” Lornis replied brightly, but he turned back to his notes and did not watch the barmaid’s swaying hips as she left the room.
There was no sound in the room except for the scratching of Lornis’s pen. Draius finished her tea and set it down on the saucer with a clink. Lornis looked up.
“Well, you managed her well. I had no idea of your skills with women.”
Lornis put down his pen and gave her a hard, direct look. “I know how to play the game. But it’s just a game.”
“As long as you’re not likely to be distracted by a pretty face.” Now why did I say that?
“Not likely; it takes more than a fine face and figure to catch my eye. I know what sort of woman interests me, and I won’t find her serving in a pub.” Lornis went back to his notes.
Draius was uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation even though she had initiated it, so she changed the subject. “We still can’t establish a connection between Tellina and Reggis.”
“What about the ‘goods’ Reggis was shipping?”
“The councilman’s name didn’t appear on any of Tellina’s invoices and there are many shipping companies in this port. Still, it’s a possibility.” She motioned at the door. “Let’s go over that third room, the one where he was supposed to meet the girl.”
The third room was multi-functional like the one they just left, with a small table, four chairs, a sideboard, a wardrobe, and a lounge that could double as a bed. The room was crowded with furniture as it attempted to be both proper parlor and clandestine bedchamber. It had a window, while the fourth room, where the body was found, did not.
“Supposedly no one has been in this room since the morning after the murder,” she said. “But it was open for an entire night, so anything could have been removed during that time.”
“This was where I interviewed Raivata, the night of the murder.” Lornis shuffled through his notes.
Draius looked around. There was a rumpled sheet on top of the lounge chair. On the sideboard were a flask and two glasses, with what looked like a dried puddle of wine. There were muddy footprints and dirt on the wooden floor near the door,
probably from the overflow of the crowd that night. Beside the door was a chamber pot. The entire room reeked of sweat, urine, mud, and vomit. She wrinkled her nose and sighed.
“Anything you noticed that evening, that might seem out of the ordinary?” she asked Lornis.
He looked carefully around the room. “Unfortunately, I don’t have your eye for detail nor your memory. Raivata threw up into the chamber pot—twice,” he added helpfully, then his eyes moved to the sideboard. He paused. “I considered ordering spirits to steady her, but there was just too much chaos that evening. I looked over at the sideboard for something to give her, and I’m sure that spill of wine was fresh.”
“Norsis suspects a very fast-acting poison. The poison could have been administered in the wine.”
“If he was poisoned in here, how did he get to the next room? Someone would have noticed the incapacitated councilman being hauled around on the open gallery,” Lornis said.
She stared at the wardrobe. “Do you realize the wardrobe in the next room is placed against the wall directly in line with this one?”
Their eyes met, and they both went to the wardrobe. Lornis pushed against its tall side, but it appeared to be attached to the wall. She opened the double doors. The back of the wardrobe looked solid.
Lornis knocked and felt around the edges. “Ah.” There was a click, and he pushed on the back wall of the cabinet. It pivoted to reveal another wardrobe interior. He reached and pushed outward on the other set of doors, then stepped through the opening and down into the fourth room.
“Get Mainos,” Draius said. “He knows about this door.”
chapter Thirteen
First Millday, Erin Three, T.Y. 1471
Even though I don’t yet understand how Nherissa created the lodestone, I can piece together the philosophy and craft behind the making of small charms. I have recorded the practicum:
Use Pekon’s instructions to make aqua regis from vitriol, sal armoniac, sal niter, sal gemmai, and alumen crudum. Take, with proper reverence, a button of noble silver recently made from cupellation. Dissolve the silver into as small an amount of liquid as possible, taking care to not breathe the fumes. Seal the flask, and put it aside.
A Charm for Draius: A Novel of the Broken Kaskea (The Broken Kaskea Series Book 1) Page 11