The Case of Parihaan's Poison (The Wolflock Cases Book 4)

by Rhiannon D. Elton

  “Hmmm... Oh! Of course. Silly of me to even think that,” Wolflock recovered quickly. “Do the Captain and Slavidus keep a log of who checks what stores when they come on board?”

  “Yeah, o’course. S’how we keep inventory and make sure all the foods not stale. Why?”

  “Oh, you know. Just curious. After everything with this,” he waved his hand at the empty barrels, still reeking of drinking alcohol, “I just wanted to make sure my father’s sails got logged properly.”

  “Lockie!”

  Mothy smiled wearily and began emptying one of the last three containers.

  “Are you alright?” Wolflock asked seriously, looking into his friend’s eyes, but there was only relief and contentedness.

  “Aye. I’m fine, Lockie. How are you? Sober now?”

  Wolflock glanced around, hoping no one heard him. “It was purely for scientific inquiry. I needed to see what Parihaan felt so I could understand it better.”

  “You’re going to give me headaches with stress in the future...” he sighed.

  “You look tired. I’ll guard your door if you want to sleep.”

  “You won’t be the only one...” Mothy grinned brightly and blushed a little.

  “Ah! Well get to bed soon. I’m going to do a bit of research. I’ll speak to you in the morning, aye?”

  “Mmm... sleep sounds so nice right now. Don’t stay up too late.”

  Wolflock swept passed him and began to formulate the next steps of his plan. He had to find the logs of who had looked at the stores when Parihaan came on board. They would either be in Slavidus’ room or in the Captain’s room, but with Geagle guarding the door directly in front of Slavidus’ room, it was going to be hard to sneak in.

  Wolflock thought it would be easier to see how the Captain’s room was looking for clues. Slipping down the stairs to the crew sleeping quarters and then into the handy shaft leading right into Captain Blutro’s office. As quietly as he could he crawled through and under the draped table. The room was silent, but Wolflock waited just a moment before creeping out and glancing around. He only had a while to get the information he needed and he doubted the Captain would let him look through business or personal papers, regardless of the reason being set by himself. A book on the desk caught his eye though. It was closed, but the fine blue leather was engraved with the words “Captain Blutro Silk”. Wolflock opened it to the most recent entry, but it didn’t mention anything from today as he hadn’t had time to write. Captain Blutro’s handwriting was quite pretty and swirly for a man, but still firm and broad. Wolflock flipped through to the start of this journey from Shellinmerth and scrawled through for any mention of alcohol or Parihaan. Finally in the last month of Summer he found something.

  Captain’s Log, 23rd day of St'lung Luna

  We are not stopping the ship for the drama that has ensued. A passenger, Parihaan Nebralt, has been found drunk and upon locating her supply of alcohol, had to be held in her room while we disposed of the booze. It is days like this that make me want to retire. Luckily they are few and far between. Hopefully it won’t be like when Crete was Captain. Rest father’s soul I will never let that occur again. The alcohol has been rid of, first mate Slavidus informs me. He said that it has been logged in his books. Hopefully that will be the last of it....

  That was it.

  Wolflock frowned. Who was Crete and why was the Captain so affected by the presence of alcohol. He knew he didn’t have much time, but he couldn’t help himself. Along the Captain’s upper most bookshelf were other journals, much like the blue leather one, but older and more worn. He reached up and pulled them out enough to see the name of the Captain engraved on it.

  “Blutro Silk, Blutro Silk, Blutro Silk....” he mumbled as he pulled them out and put them back. Finally he found the eighth one that had several savage gashes in the front where a name had been removed and Blutro’s name had replaced it. The surname remained the same.

  Wolflock hastily opened this book and flicked through it. The handwriting at the start was jagged, printed and shorthanded, so much so in some places it looked like a secret code. Suddenly it changed to the elegant scrawl of Captain Blutro. The distinct change was alarming, but upon seeing the entry before and after, Wolflock realised why. They were two different people. The last few entries of the previous Captain were nearly illegible even though they were printed. He could only glean certain words like “port”, “sails”, “lady”, “crew”, “sick” and “dead”, but none made sense. The very last entry was written in heavy bold letters, ripping through to the next page in part. It was hard to read as the writer’s hand seemed to be shaking terribly, but Wolflock made it out to be: I NEED MORE. CAN’T NÜMB PAIN. GOING TO DIE WITHOUT. MUTINY.

  The next entry was Blutros, a few pages over to avoid the thick seeping ink stains and tears.

  Captain’s Log, 1st of Nibit’ling Ickst

  I have replaced Crete as Captain. Father would have preferred this. Crete may be the eldest and this may be my first official log as Captain, but I hope to do a good job by the crew and father’s memory. Aujin is my only comfort at this time. The stress is making me lose my hair. Perhaps I shall start to wear Aujin if it all falls out!

  Crete has been going mad for months now. He is obsessed with the drinking alcohol now. He gives it to the men as encouragement, but it just makes them violent. I had to leave one man in the hands of the Corl Guard for molesting a lady on his shore leave. Crete just laughed. This is not like him normally. He used to be fair and strict but now he lies, cheats and steals. I had to compensate every passenger on the last trip because they all had missing items. Crete is being held in the fourteenth passenger room until we dock near Plugh, then I shall leave him in the Guard’s hands. It breaks my heart to do so as I love my brother dearly, but this can go on no longer. Even as I write this I have a blackened ey...

  The last word trailed off with a splot of ink, only to be followed by the next paragraph.

  Crete is dead.

  The man guarding him fell asleep... He had a secret stash of booze hidden in the ship and a new boy, Grogen, raised the alarm. I stayed with him after he finished swinging his fists and passed out. Crete died very suddenly. He cried to me about how much of a failure he was as he vomited into a bucket. Then he passed out again. I couldn’t bare to see him like this so I left to make sure the men he attacked were alright. I returned to find his face was blue and he was dead. The doctor, Leadinson of Delenstore, said he had died choking on his own vomit. I may not write a log tomorrow due to grief. We shall have to see how these things go...

  Wolflock felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. He understood now. He couldn’t pity Captain Blutro as he held a level of respect for him, but he felt a deep and uncomfortable sorrow for the pain his Captain had felt. Gently putting the journal back where it came from, Wolflock knew he had one more piece of information before he wrapped the case up, but it would be tricky to obtain. The night was drawing on and nearly everyone was asleep and he hoped that because the Captain was steering the ship, that Slavidus was asleep.

  When he looked back into the passenger hallway he was happy to see that Geagle was cooing softly into a crack of Parihaan’s door. She was loudly rebutting him, but it was all Wolflock needed to step quietly on the floorboards that didn’t creak (as Mothy had expertly shown him), and slide open the unlocked door. The forms of Slavidus and Yifi soundly sleeping in the sizeable bed were only outlined by the light of the settling fairy dust lantern on the bedside. The room smelt quite clean and homely, but a thick layer of dust laid over everything Slavidus didn’t use, like the various books on his shelves, but surprisingly his fishing equipment in a hatstand by the door was completely clean. The open, neatly lined ledger on Slavidus desk was clearly the ships inventory, so Wolflock began with that

  Wolflock knew he was looking for the ship’s storage log from between the end of the third month of Summer and the middle of fourth. As quietly as he could he flipped the corners of the pa
ges to see the dates. Finally he found what he was after only a few days after the Lammas festival.

  ...One half barrel of fish as payment – Granger, Werek. Shellinden

  Promise of continued attempts to catch fish daily for crew and passengers for duration of sailing

  One crate fishing poles and assorted equipment to transport – Granger, Werek, Shellinden

  Three sacks of mangoes as payment – Ethrig, Dlumi. Shellinden

  Promise of storytelling for entertainment during times of relaxation once a week for duration of sailing

  Three crates of homely goods, clothes and trinkets for transport – Ethrig, Dlumi. Shellinden

  Four barrels of blessed water for transport - Nebralt, Parihaan. Syrili

  Promise of sexual favours to crew members as passenger sees fit, otherwise assistance with ship duties for duration of sailing. (Note: only one night per crew member for duration of sailing is required. Otherwise crew member may transfer duties)

  One crate of various homely goods for transfer – Nebralt, Parihaan, Syrili...

  ...Geagle confirmed all new passengers stored goods are as stated and no illegal or stolen products are present....

  So Geagle was responsible for Parihaan’s drinking alcohol being allowed onboard, but who had allowed it to stay? Wolflock looked around for anything that may note recent use. Surely Slavidus would have taken this evening’s ongoing down somewhere. Everything was very dusty and in disuse... except for the draw handles!

  Wolflock got too excited and wrenched open a draw to his left, making a loud scraping noise. He froze on the spot like a cornered animal, but the couple remained sweetly cuddling, Yifi’s head on Slavidus’ slowly rising and falling chest.

  He tried more cautiously now, finding the first draw only full of writing materials. The draw below it was crammed with odd bits and pieces. Scraps of metal, stones, shells, the odd bit of tarnished jewellery. The third draw was blank paper. To his right the top draw yielded results!

  A lovely greyish brown journal with S.O. scribbled on the top right hand corner was what Wolflock instantly assumed was his journal. He flicked open the little metal clasp and forgot his surroundings as he fanned through the pages.

  It didn’t take him long to see the page Slavidus has recently been working on. It appeared he wanted to hastily jot down notes, as he didn’t let the ink dry and it blotted on the opposite page. The only words he used to describe the situation that occurred today were, “Parihaan confined to cabin for duration of sailing. Contraband alcohol. Last has been dumped by Hognut, Mothy Enitnelav, Wolflock Felen and myself.”

  Wolflock frowned thinking... The Captain’s log had said that the twenty third day of the month St'lung Luna was when the alcohol had been discovered the first time, so he turned to there and the account seemed to be far more detailed.

  23rd day of St’lung Luna

  Hectic. Contraband Alcohol discovered by investigating intoxicated passenger, Parihaan Nebralt. Crew members complained of level of satisfaction from services from afore mentioned passenger. I’m contemplating getting her to work but she has up until this point been highly intoxicated and is unable to perform even rudimentary tasks. I had Geagle keep her in her cabin while the others disposed of her drinking alcohol, but found there had been a breakdown in communication and Geagle was left to dispose of the substance under Parihaan’s “instruction”. She apparently told him which barrels were hers. It was confirmed that this was accurate but my gut says something is wrong. I double checked the barrels that went overboard and this was all accurate, though. I hope Geagle has not become too infatuated with this woman...

  Wolflock sighed. Poor Geagle... He couldn’t go to the Captain with just this information. He had to speak to the man himself. The Captain sounded so stern and cold when he said what punishment would be given to the crew member responsible

  He suddenly felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle and he looked to his right. Right into Yifi’s big brown open eyes.

  His gut dropped and he slowly put the book down in the draw and shut it sheepishly.

  “What are you doing?” She barely whispered.

  Wolflock swallowed. He’d promised the Captain not to tell anyone what he was investigating. He had to lie.

  “I... I had to check to make sure the logs matched up with the amount of barrels were downstairs. You know... for the Captain? To make sure there was no more alcohol.” He knew his voice wasn’t convincing as he whispered, but on the fly he was a bit stuck.

  “What are you really doing?” Yifi frowned and stared at him with penetrating eyes.

  “Alright...” he sighed and put his hands up, “I tried some of Parihaan’s alcohol and it made me feel really ill. Mothy got really quite upset. I wanted to make sure none of it was left at all so we could both be at ease. I had to make sure on all accounts. I’m sorry to sneak in like this. I just wanted to be certain and I couldn’t sleep.”

  Yifi’s gaze softened and she smiled and they both looked up at the sound of light thunder.

  “You’re lucky he sleeps like the dead. I like you, Mr Felen, but please don’t trespass in other people’s rooms. It’s not polite.”

  She nestled back down on Slavidus’ chest as Wolflock backed out of the room, “thank you, Miss Voof. I promise I won’t again.”

  He knew it was a blatant lie, but he felt like he’d do anything to not get caught now when he was so close. Closing the door quietly he sighed with relief and turned to see a rather rattled looking Haatji coming out from the crew quarters.

  “Haatji?” Wolflock said kindly, “I wanted to thank you.”

  “Oh! Oh, Mr Felen you startled me. Thank me?” She had actually jumped, but quickly composed herself.

  “Yes. I am in your debt for keeping Mothy and I safe with your story. I had done nothing to deserve such treatment and I just wanted to give you my sincere thanks.”

  Haatji waved her hand to brush aside his appreciation.

  “It was nothing, my boy. You and Mothy are delightful and entertaining, and Parihaan was not worth the torment she inflicted on you both.”

  “What did she mean earlier when she mentioned stations with you?” He asked curiously, leaning his head to the right slightly.

  “Oh? Oh that. Nothing important. When I was in the East it was important to have particular stations amongst folk. It let you know who was best to marry. Wealth and good breeding came into it. I was in the highest station and my husband married me partly to step above his. Parihaan was in a middle station, but her actions have actually sullied her name and now no Nebralts’ are favourable to associate with. It’s a long history lesson for another day. I must rest now though. It’s been a tiring day.”

  Wolflock nodded thoughtfully and bid her goodnight.

  He turned, expecting to see Geagle, but he wasn’t there. Parihaan’s door was still closed though. He went to listen at the door, but Geagle came quickly trumping down the stairs, looking rather satisfied.

  “Oh! Mr Felen. Thanks for manning the post for me! Just went upstairs for a wizz.”

  “How long have you been gone?” Wolflock asked suspiciously.

  “Only a few moments. Why? Something amiss?”

  “Not that I know of... But Geagle... I have to ask you something.”

  “Shoot away, mi’lad!” he chortled and leaned on the door.

  Geagle did look very young under his blonde beard. He had wavy dark blonde hair and was built like a brick house, and was rather handsome, but his bright blue innocent eyes shouted of his naivety.

  “It’s about Parihaan.”

  Geagle’s boyish smile disappeared.

  “When she came aboard... you checked her luggage, aye?”

  “Aye...” he said slowly.

  “Have you ever had drinking alcohol before?”

  “Nay. Ne’er a drop. I prefer those dark beans from the South that make you go fast! I could drink that bitter drink all day.”

  Wolflock nodded, feeling a bit happie
r. If he had never touched drinking alcohol before then of course he would believe that any strange water looking liquid was “blessed water”.

  “And when did you realise the liquid Parihaan brought onboard was alcohol?”

  “Only when Slavidus pulled Pari up for drunkenness. She ain’t pretty when she’s like that. Poor dear. I’ll get her clean though. When we threw all the barrels overboard I got a thorough showin’ of what it looks like and smells like.”

  “And when you threw the barrels overboard... Parihaan distracted you didn’t she?”

  Geagle blushed.

  “Well... she said I was ‘er favourite and that she loved me for doing such a good job and being loyal to the Cap’in. She said she wished she had a man who loved ‘er that much and I said I’d be that man for ‘er.”

  “So there is a chance she stopped you from throwing out all the barrels?”

  Geagle looked ashamed and wouldn’t meet Wolflock’s eye.

  “Well... she did distract me. But she promised that if I left ‘er just a few barrels to sell up North to get ‘er life back on track then she’d buy a house for me to retire to when I’m sick o’ sailin’. I know you’re a smart lad and you woulda figured it out eventually, so please don’ tell Cap’in. I love sailing and ‘e’s the best Cap’in anyone can sail with!”

  Wolflock knew that Mothy’s heart would have melted for this, but his stayed icy cold.

  “I can’t make any promises Geagle, but if the Captain asks directly, then I will do my best to spare you any harshness.”

  Geagle sighed.

  “Did she have any more left?” He finally asked severely.

  Geagle looked to his left and bit his lip.

  “Nope. That’s it. All gone.”

  Wolflock groaned.

  “Where is it?”

  Geagle pursed his lips as if he may cry and slid open the door.