Moggies, Magic and Murder

by Pearl Goodfellow

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Go on,”

  Cressida’s eyes looked dazzling and alert. “One folder, and inside are emails, phone transcriptions, xerox copies of handwritten letters. From the past to the present, and all damning stuff. It took dear Sparky the best part of a week to parse it all out.” The old witch put her hands on her hips and sighed.

  “Come now,” she said. “Pull yourselves up a chair and get comfy, and I’ll give it to you in one breath.” She flicked her forefinger to the wall behind us, where the visitor chairs were lined up against the wall. David grabbed two, and we sat down for Cressida’s story. Shade and Fraidy took a seat side by side on David’s lap.

  “I’m going to give you the murders in order, starting with my dear departed sister, Nebula. I shall give you the reason each of the victims was murdered, and how each of the killers was in fact set up by Shields. All of them played like silly marionettes to commit murder on the governor’s behalf. Are you interested? Are you ready?” Cressida’s eyes widened with demented glee.

  “Ready,” David and I said at the same time.

  “My Nebula. My darling twin was killed because she knew something about Shields that he didn’t want her to know. I mean, it was all well and good when they were dating in the early years, mind you. Gideon didn’t mind then that Nebula knew of his plans and secrets.” Cressida waved a dismissive hand through the air. “No, it was only after Nebula became famous that Shields started getting jittery. Bless my sister, she was a sweet, sweet woman, but she was apt to share the most private parts of her rich and famous life with the adoring public. I do not doubt that if I were Shields I’d be nervous too!” The old witch tittered. I could only let my mouth fall open at the fact that Nebula had been described as sweet. Nebula Dreddock was a (well) known screaming, tyrannical banshee. Not a tear in the kingdom was shed when the witch actress breathed her last breath.

  “What did she know about the governor that would make him resort to murder?” David asked.

  “Yes, CPI Trew, I’m getting to that. Patience now, please.” Cressida’s voice was high and chimelike. “Of course, in their very early years together, in an attempt to get Nebula’s attention, the governor was known to brag about all his clandestine ventures. You see, he wanted Nebula to know that she was making a good bet by hooking up with him. He was a mighty man, even back then in his twenties.” Cressida brushed some crumbs from the folds of her orange coveralls and looked at us. “Have either of you heard of something called the Red Orb Program?”

  Shade slapped a paw to his forehead. “So the ROP has reared its ugly head again,” he said, looking up at the chief. David stroked Shade’s head. “Let’s not jump the gun yet, buddy.” He turned to the incarcerated woman. “Ms. Dreddock, please continue.”

  She nodded. “Shields’ father made Gideon VP of the ROP as soon as the bright young Warlock had graduated from Blacklight University. And the ROP, although the public remained blissfully unaware, had a lease of new life breathed into it once more.”

  David grunted. “So Shields took on an important role in an uber-wealthy space-tech program, what’s so damning about that? It’s not like anyone’s getting to Mars anytime soon. Even NASA isn’t there yet. We’re light years away from that kind of advancement.” I could see the chief was getting impatient, so he was trying to nudge Cressida to get to the point.

  “Well, my sister’s letters to the tricksy governor would tell us otherwise,” Cressida stated, her face unreadable. “Because, on her twenty-first birthday the governor took my dear sister to the ROP test site where Nebula witnessed a successful launch of a manned flight.” Cressida breathed out a huge sigh. “I mean, this is BIG news, yes? And, yes, you heard me right. The shuttle was manned.” This time Cressida sucked in air through her yellow teeth. “While the rest of the world slept, the Warlock elite were sending their own to Mars. The first step to intergalactic domination.”

  I snapped my mouth shut so I could speak. “What? Impossible. We’d have heard about this. Someone would have heard about this. You’re saying that --”

  Cressida struck a finger in the air. “Hold that thought,” she said and pulled a stack of papers from her modest nightstand. She shuffled through the stack, discarding what she didn’t need to both sides of the room. “Ah, here it is. It’s awfully grainy, but given that this was nearly sixty years ago now, it’s a small wonder that there’s an image at all.” With a shaky hand, Cressida pressed a color photograph to the glass for David and me to see. Although the image was stuffed with noise, the barren red background, with its ghostly strewn boulders was unmistakable. In the foreground of the image, stood a pewter colored rocket; tall, erect. Just in front of the shuttle, a Warlock astrophysicist was planting a flag. I squinted at the banner, feeling immediately creeped out by the somehow eerie crest. Two white fists, crossed at the wrists, against a black background dusted with distant stars. I tapped the image. “Whose emblem is this?”

  “Shields’,” Cressida said, deadpan.

  “Wow,” David said, dragging a hand through his freaky hair.

  “Nutso,” Shade muttered.

  “Let’s split,” Fraidy said.

  Eclipse just stared. “Interesting,” he said.

  I threw my hands in the air. “I can hardly believe this. Has Mars been visited? This is insane!” I looked back at the photograph, and for the second time, I felt an eerie chill at the sight of the insignia. I didn’t like how strong those thick, white fists looked. I didn’t like that they were tightly crossed at the wrists, giving the impression of an impenetrable force and strength. It was a formidable family crest for a formidable family’s history.

  “Presumably these Mars ‘visits’ have continued throughout the years too?” I questioned Cressida.

  “That I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “But I believe it would make sense that there have been subsequent journeys, yes. Sparky found a file in one of Shields’ external drives entitled ‘payloads.’ I have to wonder if this might be related to the Mars missions. Do you think the governor could be sending stuff into space? To ready himself for colonization?”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” David said. “Questions like this are philosophical at this point. Let’s start with the concrete. Did Sparky manage to open the ‘payloads’ file?”

  Cressida guffawed. “Pah! My little tech-trooper gets so distracted with each new shiny information-highway, I’m afraid. And I’ve told him to concentrate on the Bank of Alchemy transactions for now. I figured it might be best to deal with earthly affairs first. But rest assured, Sparky has his eyes on that payload drive, so if you need the data from that disc, I’ve no doubt my little guy can get it for you.

  “Good,” David said. “Okay, let’s assume Shields has won the Mars race for now. I mean, it certainly looks that way, anyway. So Nebula knows about it, she gets famous, Shields starts getting nervous that Nebula’s flapping might include stories of the governor’s planetary affairs, and wants her gone. But, for the love of Brigid, how on earth did Gideon get Avery Flute --who, by the way, had a real life motive for killing Nebula -- to do his dirty work?”

  Cressida shook her head, offering the chief a strange smile. “Well, our governor, as it turns out is not only immensely resourceful, he’s also damned near genius,” she said. “You’ve all heard of Samael Gryphonhook, yes?”

  David and I nodded. “The eminent behaviorist? The one who died back in the seventies?” I said.

  “The very one,” said Cressida, nodding. “Shields’ grandfather on the governor’s mother’s side, in case you didn’t know that little tidbit.” We both shook our heads this time. “Well, Samael’s main body of work was on the exploration of a sentient being’s dark side. The psychologist knew full well that every humanoid has a dark underbelly, some secret sore spot that they likely wished could be healed. And he found, through his research, that the most commonly wished for ‘self-healing method,’ if you like, was vengeance. So, Shields, furthering his grandfather�
�s work, applied the same methods to not just humans, but all sentient beings, including witches, warlocks, and what have you. From there, he simply weaved a few hexes, and prodded the tender spots of all the murderers, and had them act out the rest until the bitter end. As I said, it was a genius move on Gideon’s part. It all played out very naturally. And, hence the Chief Warlock escaped suspicion in most of these cases.”

  I put my hand over my mouth to stifle my gasp. “He used them all? He found out each of their bones of contention and pitted those contentions against the people Shields wanted dead?”

  “I see you’re getting it now,” Cressida said. “Let me continue. You can apply the same Warlock sourced killing strategies to each of them.”

  David pulled on his bottom lip and nodded. “Please, go on.”

  “So Nebula knew of Shields’ ROP program, Shields knew of Avery Flute’s pain from being jilted by Nebula after the two shared a brief interlude. Nebula got famous and decided that having a dead-end disk jockey boyfriend didn’t really showcase her glamorous life to its best effect. Avery never got over it, and when Nebula came back to Gless Inlet for her stage performance, Shields simply pushed Avery’s buttons ... and the rest? Well, it played out as it is wont to do in any sentient being’s emotional affairs.”

  “Okay, so we’re on to Spithilda Roach now, right? She was the second in line to be killed. What was her story?” David asked.

  Cressida cackled and shook her head. “Poor ol’ Roachie. Nobody cried when she popped it,” she said. “Everyone thought she was just a mean, poverty-ridden, bitter old crone, and it’s true … Spithilda was all of these things except she was also positively loaded. She just chose to live the life of a beggar, as she did in that dirty old vardo out in the Humps.”

  Fraidy put his paws up on the glass. “But, Shields couldn’t have wanted Spithilda dead for her money though, right? I mean, the guy’s stinking rich. Why would he need more cash?”

  “Well, actually, dear kitty-cat, the governor did want Spithilda for her money. You see, even though Gideon’s personal wealth is considerable, he couldn’t very well use his own money for his business ventures. Too trackable, if you know what I mean? Talisman was already gearing up to audit the Warlock Chief as it was. Shields had to keep his money away from his nefarious business pursuits.”

  “But what about Black Diamond money?” Eclipse said.

  Shade nodded. “Yeah, that’s not the governor’s personal money. Why didn’t he use that? Isn’t he making mega-bank with those gems?”

  Cressida bobbed her head enthusiastically. “He is indeed, handsome cat, but you have to remember that Shields hadn’t yet worked out a way to get the diamonds out of Cathedral and onto the Blackhand exchange so he could cash them in. He knew full well, that after his family, Spithilda Roach was the wealthiest woman in all of the Coven Isles.” Cressida laughed at our surprised expressions. “I know! You’d never believe it, right? Living out there in that filthy caravan, as she did. And with that mangy old dog, Remulus, no less. No, Spithilda didn’t look like a wealthy woman at all.”

  “But how did Shields work on Amber Crystal to kill Spithilda? I mean, it was Amber’s mother, Hyraceum, who had the real beef with Spithilda.” I felt a sort of tension form in my stomach as I recalled the memory of Amber Crystal and the Spithilda Roach case. Amber had come to Glessie from Nanker Isle to work alongside the chief at GIPPD. The young witch had cast a love spell on David, and I had only just narrowly stopped the deranged young woman from killing him. Spithilda Roach had been Amber Crystal’s aunt; sister to Hyraceum Crystal, Amber’s mother. It had been Hyraceum who had drafted her own daughter, Amber to kill Spithilda Roach. Spithilda and Hyraceum had been sworn enemies since their teenage years; the latter squandering her inheritance, while the former only grew her finances exponentially. Hyraceum was a bitterly jealous woman, and she wanted her sister’s wealth. And, at the time, so did Shields. So what did he do? He courted Hyraceum; wooed her to the brink of madness, as it happened. Hyraceum had lost her senses so completely that she sent her daughter to Glessie to do her dirty work, while Amber’s mother followed Shields around the isles like a lovesick puppy. It’s really quite sad when you think about it. Amber’s rotting in a cell in Steeltrap when it really should be her mother doing the time.”

  “Or Shields,” I said.

  “Well, yes, of course. Quite.”

  “So if all had gone according to plan … once Hyraceum had her hands on all of Spithilda’s money, I mean … the governor would have conned her out of it to use for his own … deeds?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Wow, the dude’s breaking hearts and laying waste lives all over the place,” Shade said, his ears twitching.

  Fraidy pulled back his own ears.“Shields is the devil. C’mon, let’s split.”

  “Druida Stone was next,” I said, remembering the cantankerous old librarian, and former -- unbeknownst to me at the time, mind you -- Custodian. Incredibly I almost became a suspect in Druida’s murder; I had had a suitably public blazing row with the smart witch, and it turned out, Druida had been found dead the next day. Druida Stone had been installed on Glessie in a witness protection program, no less. Some twenty odd years previous, Druida had been a toiling ‘suit’ of Talisman. She had worked in the defense department as a clerk but actually ended up solving the identity of a well-known drug baron, and Strand peddler, Milosh Besnick. Being that Besnick had more than a few highly appointed connections, Druida had been taken from her gray, nine-to-five life on Talisman and installed as a librarian in Gless Inlet. During this time, Portia Fearwyn and Stone had become professional acquaintances. Druida’s cataloging and research skills had been exemplary, and the Witch Fearwyn took the librarian on for research purposes for the Custodians. While Milosh Besnick was languishing in Steeltrap, however, his mother was mopping the floor of the Keziah Mason Memorial library where Druida worked. When Fifnik Besnick found out that it had been Druida who had been responsible for putting her son behind bars, Milosh’s mother did what a fair few mothers might do. She killed the woman who took her boy from her. But, of course, Shields knew this.

  “Gideon played Fifnik Besnick like a fiddle,” Cressida said.

  “But why did Shields want Druida dead? What did she know about the governor?” David asked.

  “Of course,” Cressida said. “Well, we all know Milosh Besnick was responsible for flooding the Coven Isles with the Strands of Araby. But Milosh actually never had much interest in peddling his wares across the isles. His focus was on the mainland, across the Russian Steppes and into Mongolia where trade was reliable and good. It was Shields who opened up Crow Isle for Milosh so that the Strands kingpin could ship his drugs into the Coven Isles. And hence that was the start of the Strands epidemic. Of course, Shields wasn’t interested in drugs or the money obtained from the proceeds. No, Gideon merely wanted to create chaos across our islands. A Strands epidemic is a great distraction, wouldn’t you agree? Supremely effective for making everyone run around like headless chickens trying to get the drug use under control, while the nefarious governor goes about his villainous deeds. Druida found out that Shields had opened Crow Isle for the Strands shipments. Of course, the governor couldn’t have this kind of intel leaking. Not when he was publicly seen championing a cure for the epidemic.”

  “A devil with two faces then” Fraidy said. “Can we go home now, please?”

  I stroked my timid cats head. “This is incredible,” I whispered. “Who’s next?”

  “Millicent Ponds,” David reminded me. Cressida punched the air. “Bingo, CPI Trew! Millicent was merely a nuisance to the governor initially; fighting for fair working conditions for the rock grumlins definitely slowed Shields’ Black Diamond mining operations. But it was Millicent’s finding out what Gideon was doing with the gems that got her killed.”

  “Millicent knew the governor was shipping the diamonds into Mag Mell?” I asked.

  “Not only that,” Cressida said. “Our fa
vorite eco-warrior also found out that he was feeding the profits into tachyon tech. Millicent knew the governor was up to no good … although, admittedly she didn’t know exactly what. But, I guess that’s by the by, because Gideon simply had his closest advisor, Mari Falk, kill her.”

  “Terrible man!” Fraidy shrieked, impersonating his beloved cousin, Hinrika. “He doesn’t even care that he’s ruined the people closest to him! That scary-Mari worshiped the ground Shields walked on. She’d have done anything for him.”

  “Uh, yeah, bro, she murdered for the governor, we got that,” Shade said, patting Fraidy’s head with a gentle paw.

  “Mari Falk had been given another target, though,” Cressida said. She looked at me. “Only you foiled those plans, Hattie ... by charging Mari for Millicent’s murder, and therefore putting Shields’ trained killer behind bars before she could eliminate her next target.

  “Which was who?” David asked. Cressida didn’t take her eyes from my face. “Cressida? The chief tried again. “Who was Shields’ missed target?” Cressida kept staring at me until her left eye watered. The chief turned his head slowly toward me. “Hattie? He wanted Hattie dead?” David’s face drained of color. He flicked his eyes at me and looked away quickly.