The man’s hair was dark brown and slicked back in a pompadour, aided by lots of gel that I fancied I could smell from where I was standing. He had a thick jaw, a Cro-Magnon countenance and skin so sallow that the fair lights seemed to bounce off it in sickly hues. The woman was in better shape facially, a few laugh lines that make up concealed somewhat, with a Mediterranean complexion framed by lengthy black hair. More striking was their body language. No matter how hard they tried to act the part of the loving couple, it was all wrong, too stiff, too distant. Remind you of anyone, Hattie? I shook the thought away.
“Barnabus and Zinnie Kramp,” David explained. “Barnie’s one of none other than Gideon Shields’ phalanx of lawyers and Zinnie is the sister of our very own Mayor, Sincerity Jones.”
Midnight observed. “Hard to tell what’s more awkward: them being here or them being together.”
David shrugged. “They’ve been married since high school. But I did hear a few whispers about how their marriage is a loveless one. And, old Barnie is apparently no stranger to adultery. There are some things Zinnie Kramp probably doesn't know about. Or doesn't want to know about, at least.”
“Oh, do tell!” Midnight squealed.
I shook my head. I loved Midnight as much as I did the rest of his siblings. But he always regarded personal privacy as more of a suggestion than a basic human right.
“How about we go by the Celestial Cakes stand?” I suggested trying once more to steer our night into cheery realms. “Gabrielle’s frying up some of those delightfully sugary mini-donuts, and I want to try them.”
Gloom coughed up a hairball. We watched in mild disgust as it wriggled and flipped on the ground, as the still live minnow caught in the furry trap gulped its last breaths.
“After that tasteless fish stick, anything’s got to be an improvement for the palate.” Gloom sniped, washing her face clean from her fishy ejection.
I looked at the fish, who had given up the battle now. Something about this creature's dying here in front of me rocked me to the core. It was totally unexpected.
"Okay, that's it, guys. Absolutely no more killing for sport. Look at you all; you're barbaric. You too, David. Not one of you is being respectful of the end of a life here." Bran, I had no idea what got me so upset, I mean it was just a little fish, right? A cold, non-interactive, seemingly uncommunicative fish. And, yet, how is it this critter's fault for being a fish? Did I expect him to have the manners to behave differently? Perhaps in a more cuddly, endearing, playful way? The guy was a fish. Done. There has to be fish in the world. So, this guy was one. He only knew how to be a fish. He did what he knew, and he lived what he knew. And, for fun, he was killed.
I exhaled loudly through the woolen hair of the dangling Ogre doll and looked at all the eyes on me. Sixteen laser-focused pupils and gaping mouths told me all I needed to know: They thought I'd gone insane.
"Donuts!" I exclaimed, changing the mood as quickly as I could. I pushed the plushie's head to one side and offered the gang a smile. And then I dived into the cover of the crowd; my shocked companions close at my heels.
I knew from Millie that the stand was on the other side of the Ferris wheel. So I steered the crew through the crowd toward my baker friend, Gabrielle. The crowd thickened, and it became difficult to dodge the elbows and scurrying feet. I WILL have those donuts! My body pushed forward like a determined battering ram, while my mouth flooded with saliva at the thought of cinnamony and doughy goodness.
“Ack, maybe a quick burst of flames might clear our way?” Carbon asked hopefully, as he dodged boots and clogs alike.
“Don’t even think about it, buddy.” I cautioned my pyromaniac cat.
“I didn’t say I would, By Brigid. I just meant I could do it if you gave me the nod,” Carbon replied, his voice thick with resentment.
I turned away from him as the aroma of frying sweet dough reached my nostrils. The delicious smell gave me the strength I needed to get my daily pastry, and I pushed with more force toward Gabrielle's stall. I had it in my sights when a cacophony broke out behind me. Screams, gasps, and shouts filled the air. I wheeled on one foot
“Carbon!” I shouted so loud at my cat for disrupting my donut mission that he did a vertical leap into the air. I scanned quickly for the fire my pyro cat just started but could see neither smoke nor flames. David grabbed my arm then and, with a grim face, he raised a slow-motion finger to the top of the Ferris Wheel.
Two women in the uppermost carriage of the big wheel. One standing, alarmingly, on the now rocking seat. The other trying desperately to hold onto the pant leg of the standing figure. I saw the glint of the oxygen tank then. And the feeble hand that tried to hold her sister in the safety of the carriage. Infirma. And Morag. And, it looked like Morag was about to …
Morag jumped.
What happened next didn’t seem to involve any conscious effort or thought on my part. I dropped the plushy ogre, pulled out the apple wand in my pocket and started reciting the words of a spell. It happened in an uncannily swift and smooth motion. As reluctant as I’ve always been about casting magic, this time it felt different. And, by that, I mean I didn’t actually feel like I was the one doing anything! I had a flooding sense that Granny Chimera was really close to me. I felt that her presence was almost swirling, blending with mine. When I recited those foreign words, I intuited Chimera Opal chanting right alongside me. The aroma of lavender and rosemary, Grandma’s favorite herbs, came dancing to my nose. All I can say about what happened is that I was really present, you know? But, also not present if that makes any sense? I won’t deny it; it was spectacularly peculiar. Morag’s rapid descent slowed dramatically at around the ten-foot drop mark. I kept chanting quietly, and Morag’s body fluttered weightlessly toward the ground in a gentle swaying motion. She came to a stop then, approximately six feet from the ground. I knitted my eyebrows. What were those lights? Are those lights from the other rides? I watched as delicate bubbles of golden light popped and fizzed around Morag. I blinked my eyes trying to ignore the crowd’s gasping and to bring my focus back to Morag. “Hattie? What are you doing? Are you doing that? What’s going on?” David’s questions came at me like a machine gun. My focus broke, and Morag plummeted the remaining six feet or so to the ground. Luckily there was a fair amount of padding over the earth, what with all the drifting sand from the dunes. I assumed the shark lawyer would be mainly fine. Wrong!
David ran over to Morag, already pulling out his badge and urging people to stand back. The cats moved silently behind the chief, and I was about to run over myself when Onyx caught my eye. He gave me a strange, penetrating look.
“Now’s not the time, Onyx,” I grumbled as I walked quickly over to the fallen woman. My sage kitty cast me a stare that told me this was something we’d discuss later.
David flashed his badge again and shouted to the crowd, “Whoever has a cell phone, I want you to call emergency services. Now!”
I bent down next to him, Onyx nudging his head between my knees. I placed my hand on his chest; I didn’t want him getting too close, just in case. I looked at Morag then. She was too still. Too inanimate. Morag Devin was most definitely dead.
I stood up, trying to catch a breath. It felt as if I had a cold, lead hand squeezing my heart. David grabbed me by the arm.
“Hat? You good? Wanna sit down over there?” He pointed to a bench close to the platform of the big wheel. I shook my head and gulped in a breath.
“Did I kill her?” I managed.
“Kill her? What? What? No. No, Hattie, you didn’t kill her. She’s dead, yes. But, no you didn’t kill her. Just breathe, okay? We need to get her covered up and taken away.” His head whipped around to see if help was on its way.
I stood to the side, and I couldn’t stop shaking. My mouth was so dry, and the lump in my throat felt like a clod of dry earth. The cats didn’t take long to pick up on how I was feeling, and before I knew it I had seven warm, furry bodies leaned up against my legs, all of them tryin
g to balance their butts on my feet.
How could she be dead? She only fell six feet, for Goddess’ sakes. Bast! I shouldn’t have used that magic. What possessed me in the first place? Fraidy stood on his hind quarters, lifting his front paws to rest on my thighs. He looked up at me.
“The chief is right, Hattie. You didn’t kill Morag. There’s something at work here. Your levitation charm didn’t do no harm, don’t you worry.” Fraidy flashed his teeth in a sympathetic smile. I scratched his head, but inside the lead weight got heavier.
David was doing his best to keep the crowd back when a figure in a black robe made his way into the crime scene. Even without his ceremonial holly staff, the newcomer needed no introduction. Everyone on Glessie knew, loved and respected Reverend Thaddeus Peacefield, Gless Inlet’s vicar of St. Pendragon’s Church. The vicar’s ruddy face was almost cherubic, both in its rosy overtones and chubbiness. His name suited him; Thaddeus exuded peace and calm. Simply put, Glessie’s reverend was an astonishingly nice person. His gentle features crumpled when he peered down at Morag. “Oh, dear, oh, dear,” Peacefield lamented, bending down to his knees beside the fallen woman’s head.
Looking at David, he asked, “Do we have any idea why Ms. Devlin jumped, Inspector?”
David cast a meaningful glance up to the still-stranded Infirma. “I truly wish I did, Reverend.”
Peacefield turned his head back to the body. “Poor child. What a travesty that such an altruistic being should perish so prematurely.” He closed his eyes in silent prayer, while David and I cast a confused glance at one another. Morag? Altruistic? I couldn’t imagine the hard-nosed lawyer being a kind or generous sort. But, perhaps I had her all wrong? I mean, she did devote all her time and money to her frail sister.
After making the sign of the crossroads, Rev. Peacefield began intoning the 'Cant of the Departing,' an ancient Celtic prayer for the newly deceased. My Gaelic has never been the greatest, but the gist of it was it asked that the Goddess grant forgiveness and a peaceful passage to the one who has left so suddenly.
The crowd closed their eyes in faithful respect to the impromptu ceremony before them. But David continued to scan every head in the crowd looking for anything out of the ordinary. He reminded me of an eagle; I'd never seen him so alert. I saw his eyes narrow on a target. His stare turned flinty and cold, and I couldn't resist but follow his gaze. Straight to Portia Fearwyn. And she was just turning on her heel, walking quickly away from the scene. I sighed inwardly. I knew what this meant. Portia would now be on the suspect list, and David would make it his mission to throw questions at the pinch-faced witch.
Reverend Peacefield had finished his subtle cant, closed Morag’s eyes, made the sign of the crossroads once more and stood. His face remained downcast. Behind us, the Ferris wheel began to move again, David’s men were waiting at the bottom to receive the badly shaken Infirma Devlin.
Sidling up to Peacefield’s side, David said: “Reverend, I need to ask about that last remark before your cant there.” The chief cleared his throat, “You said that Morag was altruistic? Can you explain that? Because when I hear people speak of Morag, I've never once heard anyone say she's kind. And, I say that in the most gentle way I can," David said, kicking a stone with his boot.
“Of course, my son,” Peacefield said with a sad smile. “Ms. Devlin donated something my parish has been in dire need of. Morag purchased Saint Pendragon a new bell. She even had the installation covered.”
“Didn’t the old one crack during those strange occurrences a month ago?” I asked, joining the two men. I was referring to the magical imbalances created by the balefire beacon that David had extinguished along with Verdantia Eyebright’s help.
“Oh, it did far more than crack, dear. The whole thing split in two while we were ringing in the morning service. It took down a big chunk of wall in the belltower too. Even thinking about the cost of a replacement filled me with dread. But, as I’m sure you’re both aware, the Goddess always provides in our hour of need,” the vicar shook his head at the recent memory. “And that divine provision came in the form of Ms. Devlin’s gift. She was to be the one yielding the scissors at tomorrow’s ribbon-cutting ceremony.”
He took another look at the corpse. “And now the poor soul shall never again hear the chimes of Saint Pendragon. Chimes that she made possible. The Goddess moves with such mystery,” Peacefield finished, shaking his head again.
Just forty-five minutes later, the whole area around the Ferris wheel was cordoned off as an official crime scene.
Over noisy protests, I dropped my cats with Millie who was waiting for me over at Gabrielle’s stand. Gabrielle had put the sign to ‘Closed’ in respect for what had just happened. People were already shuffling away from the carnival grounds toward the questioning tents that David’s men had expertly put up. The crowd’s chatter came in hushed and excited whispers. It was going to be a financial bust for the Moban Fair tonight. What did I say about no dead bodies showing up here?
"Ok guys, be good for Millie, okay?" I said as I laid the two Ogre Dolls on the ground in front of Gabrielle's donut stand. They each found a spot on the plushies, and I left them kneading, purring and being generally well behaved. I joined the chief at the crime scene.
David instructed a couple of his constables to take Infirma down to the station. Reverend Peacefield insisted on staying with Morag’s body until the coroners showed up. I was so lost in everything that had just happened that I didn’t even realize I still had the applewood wand in my hand. David walked over to me, nodding at the wooden tool.
“Want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. “I’d rather talk about why you think Portia Fearwyn had something to do with Morag’s death.”
My best friend stiffened. “I’ll admit that this one mainly comes down to motive. Morag was defending the man who killed Portia’s fellow Custodian, remember?”
I nodded thoughtfully. Morag defending Aurel Nugget, Portia’s fellow custodian, certainly did seem like reason enough to get Portia incredibly angry. It’s true; lady Fearwyn didn’t take kindly to having her operations disrupted or her close associates harmed.
I shook my head again, “Portia is many things, but even she has lines she refuses to cross. Killing Morag in front of her own sister? And in public, where other people could get hurt? Not her style, David. No way.”
Hector Muerte, the assistant coroner, shambled over and, with remarkable care, lifted Morag onto the stretcher and into an open body bag. Maude Dulgrey was the coroner on this Isle. Hector was Maude’s zombie assistant. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be advisable to employ a flesh eating zombie, but Hector was different. He was a vegetarian. He ate only two vegetables: Broccoli and Cauliflower. Likely because of their ‘brainy’ resemblance, who knows? Hector was pulling the zip up on the body bag when Reverend Peacefield clasped the zombie’s forearm. “Hector, wait,” he instructed grimly.
David and I looked at each other and then hurried over to where the vicar was standing. He was just about to pull back a lock of Morag’s hair when Hector grunted in angry protest.
“Oh, forgive me, Hector,” Peacefield responded. “Gloves, please,” he nodded and smiled at the undead assistant coroner and Hector obliged by handing the vicar the latex hand-wear. David and I gave each other another of our looks. It was an evening for silent exchanges it seemed.
“I think, Miss Jenkins, that any worries you may have had for harming Morag may be let go now. You've nothing to worry about,” Thaddeus stated as he gently lifted the hair around Morag’s temple. “No, I’d say that whatever this is is what killed Morag Devlin.” David and I leaned in closer. A vivid black network of spidery veins was creeping slowly outward from Morag’s temple. The vicar turned his face to us. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I believe we have found the real cause of Lady Devlin’s death.”
What did David and I do? We gave each other one of our looks.
Chapter 3
I’ve seen a lot of char
acters in GIPPD’s interrogation rooms and holding cells since I’d started working with David. Some of those sights were plain vile and corrupt. To a bewildered innocent, the jail cells and questioning rooms of this building, and in particular, their current occupants, could be enough to give them nightmares for weeks to come. To see Infirma’s fragile frame in this space usually occupied by tattooed thugs, and Strands junkies was a pitiful sight. I closed the door. The place was hopping tonight; I just had time to see David’s new jail warden, Eve, escorting a bedraggled, dark haired man to a chair in the corridor. No room for him at the inn. I thought, as I placed a cup of tea in front of Infirma. The bereft woman just stared at it, eyes red-rimmed, silent tears free-falling down her hollow cheeks. Although her oxygen tank was right next to her, I couldn’t hear her draw in any air. Nor was her body moving. She was as still as a mannequin, and her eyes were like hard, dead pebbles. I laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, fighting the urge to shake her vigorously. Just to check that she was still alive, you know?
“Ms. Devlin, I can’t express how sorry I am for what happened. It’s … well, I’m terribly sorry for your loss. If there’s anyone we can call, or if there’s anything you need, you just let us know, okay?” I squeezed her shoulder to let her know I was serious. “That’s chamomile tea you’ve got there.” I smiled at her. “Should help you feel a little less frazzled, so sip it if you can.” I pulled out the chair in the corner; my customary seat when David was interrogating or questioning. “Infirma, the chief is going to ask you some questions now, “ I said gently. “We need to find out what happened up there on the Ferris wheel. So everyone can reconcile the event. So everyone can make sense of it. Do you understand?”
Moggies, Magic and Murder Page 21