The Infiniti Investigates: Hattie Jenkins & the Infiniti Chronicles Books 1 to 5

by Pearl Goodfellow

  “Then, how did you figure out it was me?”

  “It was the little things,” I explained, pulling out the Ogham note he’d left at the Fingernail Moon.

  As I flattened the note out enough for him to see it, I asked, “Recognize this?”

  Avery gave out something between a sigh and a moan at the sight of the paper. “Cressida made that list out for the Soul Snatcher charm a long time ago. Nobody me, her or Nebula knew had any idea how to read Ogham so she probably thought it was safe. She threw it away and I picked it up when she wasn’t looking.”

  “You knew it was for the Soul Snatcher charm?” David asked. “Why didn’t you tell anyone about it?”

  “Because of the lavender on the list,” Avery explained. “I knew about her and Nebula’s allergy to the stuff, so I got to thinking that she wouldn’t go through with it.”

  “Only she did,” I said. “She tried using some cinnamon as a substitute per the scene where she was found, but it never worked. So she upped the dosage on the Ravingsbatch, thinking it was the problem.”

  “Then there was that allergy thing I mentioned at your shop,” Avery put in. “That must have gotten you to thinking about that list.”

  “It didn’t help, Avery, that my kitty cats could smell the lavender all over the scene in the kitchen,” I added. “I know you wanted to be sure that what you were doing would work. But you used way too much of the stuff. It was all over the golem’s clay flesh when you knocked her out.”

  “Any other mistakes I made?” Avery asked with reluctance.

  “Getting your lavender from the same area you used to have trysts with Nebula was a big one,” David mentioned. “Thanks to Rabbi Goldsmith staying in the same place while he was here, Hattie was able to trace the lavender used in Nebula’s murder back to it.”

  “I didn’t get my lavender from there,” Avery countered. “It grows wild up and down the coastline. But, its composition makes it completely useless for your kind of herbal work, Hattie.”

  “Just the same, the fact that there was a clump of it close to where you betrayed Nebula’s trust was particularly damning in the end,” I said.

  Avery winced. “You figured that out from the story I told you, huh?”

  “It wasn’t very hard to connect those dots,” I said gently. “But, now that I think about it, the clincher was when we first talked at the station.”

  “When I told you about my keychain alarm that let me know when to be back in the booth?” he asked.

  “No, that part of things didn’t come into focus until after you told me about your Mirror Gate charm at the shop,” I explained. “It was what you told me close to the end of our initial interview: ‘All the Wraithsgourd in the world can’t buy you another breath.’”

  Avery looked at me quizzically. “I don’t follow.”

  “Most non-herbalists wouldn’t,” I admitted. “There are a lot of anti-aging beauty treatments I can make at the Angel Apothecary besides Wraithsgourd, not as effective but a lot less hazardous. If you’ve got the right sort of build and bone structure, you can even look as good as Nebula did.”

  “Yet, I mention Wraithsgourd out loud and…”

  “And, I remember it for later, especially after I talked with poor, gone-round-the-bend Cressida,” I finished. “It told me two things. First, you knew she was using that as her treatment of choice because you had put the lavender in it. Second, you also knew that the same thing that made her allergic to lavender gave her a full-blown immunity to Wraithsgourd, which we were able to confirm when the constables caught Cressida during her latest escape attempt. We took samples from your victim’s twin. Her biological double.”

  Avery slumped forward in his chair. “Cressida…still my undoing after all these years.”

  “Why did you attempt to take your own life tonight?” David asked. “Did you have some idea that we were onto you?”

  Avery blew a breath out his nose in a long strained sigh. “The honest truth is that I didn’t have the slightest clue that anyone had put it together, Chief Para Inspector,” he admitted. “I just…I couldn’t live with it anymore. But I wanted people to know why I had done what I had done. That’s why I left the letter in the cottage the night before.”

  “Which was found by Rabbi Goldsmith,” I said. “He had just gotten to the police desk here to report it at the same time Millie rang it in from the shop.”

  “But, not before Millie told you, Hattie,” Avery deduced. “So you could save my life…such as it is.”

  “Why did you chose the cottage at the dunes as your place of …. ah, termination?” I couldn’t look at the poor man.

  “Simple. That was where Nebula and I spent some of our most treasured moments.” I saw a single tear drop from Flute’s face onto the faux wood veneered table.

  “The law of the Isles can get a little messy,” David said gently. “But it’s very clear on the subject of premeditated murder, Mr. Flute. I’m afraid that I’m going to have charge you with murder in the second degree, based on both your confession and the evidence.”

  “I understand, Inspector,” Avery said with a nod. “It’s funny…”

  “What is?” I asked.

  “Now that I’ve told you everything…or, rather, you’ve told me everything you figured out…it’s a complete relief. I didn’t realize how hard the burden was to bear after a certain point.”

  “If we could get a written statement from you, Mr. Flute, it would be a big help,” David said gently.

  “Of course,” Avery said. “Just let me know when we can do that.”

  “No time like the present,” David said, pushing himself off the wall. “I’ll go get some paper and a pen.”

  “I think my part is done here,” I said, getting up. “Once again, Avery, I’m sorry it was you.”

  “Don’t be,” Avery said. “We all have to stand for what we have done, Hattie Jenkins. Today, it is my turn.”

  I couldn’t look at him anymore. I walked out and did my best to fight off tears of sadness and helplessness. The rabbi was right at my elbow with Fraidy hiding behind his neck.

  “Be of good cheer, child,” he said quietly. “Saved his life you did. And they who save one life save the world entire.”

  “So, why do I feel like I’ve managed anything but justice here?” I asked.

  The rabbi had no answer to that. He stayed by my side as I finally let the tears fall. Sometime in the middle of that, Fraidy crossed from Goldsmith’s neck to my shoulders.

  Half an hour later, the tears were long gone while I nursed a mug of green tea in David’s office. Fraidy was back to his usual cowardly self, hiding in a corner next to a filing cabinet. Glancing at him, I asked: “How is it that a cat brave enough to jump off a flying broomstick and onto a wanted felon is still so freaked out by an empty office?”

  “You DID notice all the stuff outside the office, right?” Fraidy asked.

  “Yeah, cops, desks, phones ringing and the intake of the local criminals.”

  “Exactly!” Fraidy yelped. “Why in the Duat would I feel safe with all that going on?!”

  I sighed. And here I thought that Fraidy was finally taking a step towards courage.

  Before I could say anything else, the door opened. David had a freshly inked and signed paper in his hand; Avery’s confession.

  “I take it our disappearing rabbi has left the premises?” David asked as he sat down at his desk.

  “He’s taking Cressida back to Midnight Hill with a few of your constables,” I explained. “He thought it might be a good time to tell her about what Avery did.”

  David adjusted his glasses nervously. “That’s one conversation I’m glad someone else is having with her besides me.”

  “Get in line,” I said while he filled out some sort of form on his desk. “I feel terrible about how all this played out.”

  David glanced over his glasses before getting back to his writing. “Me too. Hattie…the truth isn’t always a pleasant find in
my experience. But, you get used to it if you do this sort of thing long enough.” He sounded resigned.

  “That’s vaguely like an invitation for me to keep on working with you on ‘this sort of thing’, Chief Trew,” I said.

  David put down his pen and rubbed his face. “Look, Hattie…speaking of unpleasant truths, I’m afraid that I won’t be able to give you any of proper credit for solving this case.”

  “So?” I said with a shrug. “It’s not like I care.”

  “Bast it all, I care,” David growled. “If you hadn’t gone above and beyond your duties as this case’s consultant, we would have pinned it on the wrong man or, Lady Justitia help us, ruled it an accident like Avery had planned.”

  “David, my business is running an apothecary, not imitating Miss. Marple. So, it’s enough for me that I was able to help you solve this case the right way.”

  David shook his head in what looked like worn out amazement, as his hand found the pen once more. “You are a truly remarkable woman, Hattie Jenkins. Anyone else would have been fighting me tooth and nail for at least a mention.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I’m … well, me then, yes ?” I said with a playful smile.

  “Just the same, right now I’m wishing it was you who was being sent by Talisman from Nanker Isle to be my new assistant.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked with a laugh. “Those penny-pinchers barely give you the resources to solve the local garden variety crimes. When did you merit an assistant?”

  “Somehow…and I’d really like to know how,” David said, the growl back in his voice. “Word got back to Talisman on how I had a female associate helping me out with the Nebula Dreddock case.”

  “Well, wouldn’t that have been covered by the whole consultant angle?” I asked with a shrug.

  “A consultant who is present at every major break in the case, keeps the victim’s golem at my behest and is frequently in contact with me at odd hours…do you see where this is going?”

  “Not really,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean, why not just ask me for the job if they want—“

  “You’re not a copper,” David interrupted, finishing up his paperwork and rising from his desk. “Near as I can tell, that’s the one reason why that someone else who should be showing up any minute got the job.”

  A knock on the door, followed by the door opening. The woman on the other side of it was…the politest word I could use would be ‘ridiculous’. She was a bouncy, cherub-cheeked woman with serious curves and a big grin that was so fake that I found myself looking for a “Made in Taiwan” label on her teeth. She was dressed in regulation clothes for her job but they were stretched a little too tight for them to be professional. Add in the box of cookies that had the distinctive label of Glass Inlet Goodies on them (wouldn’t catch me eating in that shop) and I found her irritating immediately.

  “CPI Trew?” she asked, all smiles and light.

  Before David could get out a response, she stepped through the door and plopped the cookies down on his desk. “I’m Amber Crystal, your new assistant,” she said without preamble. “I just wanted to—“

  That’s when the annoying little twerp FINALLY noticed me sitting behind her.

  “Oh,” she said, making an exaggerated O with her lips as she brought a dainty hand up to her lips. “I didn’t realize that you were filling out a complaint with one of the local teachers.”

  David must have recognized the flare of temper in my eyes because he quickly said, “Actually, Ms. Crystal, this is Hattie Jenkins; a local apothecarian who has been consulting with us on the Nebula Dreddock case.”

  She glowered at me a little. “Her? This is the woman who was mentioned in those case reports I saw?”

  “If you’ve got a problem with me,” I said, rising from my seat while Fraidy tiptoed to the still-open door. “Now’s the time to say it to my face.”

  “Oh, I don’t have a problem with you, honey,” Amber said rather too cheerfully for my liking. “I just wasn’t expecting someone so … very ordinary looking.”

  Bitch

  “Still, I’m eager to get started, Chief Trew,” Amber said, immediately ignoring me as she turned back around to face David. “What do you say we get started by you showing me the ropes?”

  “Well, there is the small matter of getting the rest of this paperwork on the Dreddock case done,” David said nervously, his eyes darting between her and me. “I’m certain that Ms. Jenkins—“

  “Oh, I think I’ve gotten all my meaningful contributions out of the way, Chief Trew,” I said, noting that Fraidy had just slipped out the door. “So, if you don’t mind, I’ll let you both get to it.”

  David looked at me with pleading eyes, which I acknowledged with a barely perceptible shake of my head. As Amber turned around, I gave her the fake friendly smile I reserve for bad customers at the Angel. “It was lovely meeting you,” I said. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again sometime.”

  “Oh, I’m sure of it,” Amber said with a little wave of her hand.

  I took that opportunity to leave as straight backed as possible.

  “Someone so ordinary looking,” I grumbled to myself as I passed by the constables at their desks. “Who does this bimbette think she is?”

  Fraidy had the good sense to say nothing as we walked out. But that was probably due to the fact that talking would have given away his position.

  The story of the true circumstances of Nebula’s death broke a couple of days before her funeral. As David had told me, my contributions to the case were either credited to the department as a whole or a vague “outside consultant” reference for the more technical aspects of Nebula’s fatal poisoning. Avery himself granted an exclusive interview to the Glessie Examiner where he repeated details of his life with Nebula, minus a few choice details such as Cressida’s involvement. After entering a guilty plea at his trial, he was sentenced to life imprisonment for his crime. His confession turned into a Biography of the secret life of Nebula Dreddock, and no doubt made him a rich man; even if he was confined to a cell for most of his waking hours.

  David sent me a note the night after Avery’s confession to once again apologize for not being able to give me my due. He also added that should he ever need my help on a particularly vexing case like this one again, he would not hesitate to call me. I guess the “I’m not Ms. Marple” line hadn’t exactly sunk into his brain. Millie gave me no end of teasing about it, saying that this was the start of his super-secret campaign to become my new boyfriend.

  Speaking of Millie, she did some volunteer work to help Gabrielle get her new bakery into shape over the next month. Gabrielle, citing my own example, attempted to pay Millie for her time and trouble but my dear little assistant negotiated the clay-human to a standing discount on any goods baked. As of this writing, Celestial Cakes is becoming the most well known bakery on Glessie Isle. Gabrielle is serving a wide variety of baked goods from exotic breads to tasty pastries. Having poured over that cookbook her creator gave her, I suspect that she made some modifications to the instructions that account for her goods’ unique and excellent taste. The golem had talent, that’s for sure.

  Rabbi Goldsmith stayed around Glessie to act as Avery’s spiritual advisor during his court proceedings. He insisted on staying at the cottage even after Gabrielle acquired her bakery and he was a frequent visitor to the Angel. Once Avery’s sentence was handed down, the Rabbi went back to the Mainland with a promise to visit when he could.

  As for me, I’m still running my shop, dealing with my cats and questioning the wisdom of the bribe I gave Jet after all the destruction his zippy little ass wrought during the week of playtime and catnip I gave him. It’s a good life, certainly the life I chose and still love. Yet…when I think about the case I stumbled into, I’m wondering something. Maybe I was meant to be more than just a herbalist. Maybe magic does have a place in my life. Maybe sleuthing does too. I couldn’t help but feel these conflicting energies course through my veins; openi
ng me up to experiences and possibilities a lot bigger than me. Gloom thinks I’m wasting my time. But, what the Bast does she know?

  The End

  The Violet Countercharm

  They would pay for what they had done.

  The thought clanged loudly around in my head as clearly as if it were my own.

  I caught a glimpse of my face in the round, silvered mirror. It contorted into a bitter twist of deep wrinkles. The dour expression matched the sour odor permeating the old vardo. The dilapidated gypsy caravan was chockablock with moldering spell books, crumbling crystals, and dusty jars crammed with dried herbs, the odd animal part or two, and a collection of unidentifiable items best left to the imagination.

  I shuffled past the arching walls papered in astrological charts and color correspondence tables to the small, wooden fireplace. A pot-bellied cast iron stove sat, staunchly snug, inside.

  The chimney hooked up and to the left, eventually venting through the roof into the chill night air. Chimneys in the old Romani wagons always breached the roof on the left to keep the cap clear of any overhanging trees on that side of the road on which the wagon traveled. Not that the wagon had traveled anywhere in quite some time.

  The acrid stench wafted up from the simmering contents of the black cauldron squatting on the stove. I dropped a few extra, dark berries into the open pot, using the flat of the spoon to mash them down. I peered into the mixture.

  "Hm. Too thick. More vinegar." The thin, raspy voice coming out of my mouth surprised me. Normally, I had a pleasant mezzo. At least that’s what the choirmaster at the First United Coven Church, our local non-denominational sanctuary, was always telling me. But, then my voice was no less surprising than the face I saw earlier in the mirror. What the heck was happening?

  I snagged a stoppered bottle from the overhead shelf and yanked out the cork with parched, deeply cracked lips. I spat it to the side and poured a generous dram of the clear liquid into the concoction. After a revolution or two of the spoon, I decided it was ready.