The Mutilated Merchant (The Edrin Loft Mysteries Book 1)

by Jon Evans

  "Of course, Councillor Mohran," Loft said, making a show of flipping through some papers on his clipboard. "Ahh yes, I have it right here," he said out loud as if he had just become privy to new information. Loft sat down in one of the chairs across the table from the bound Councillor, and Gurnt sat down beside him.

  "Yes, it's all quite simple it seems. Sergeant Gurnt came to bring you in for questioning, and you responded with the most ungentlemanly conduct by laying hands on her," he paused and looked down, tutting and shaking his head.

  "Well, I don't think I ought say quite where you touched her but I'm sure the magistrates would be just as shocked as I am that the esteemed Councillor Mohran, a representative of our city would do such a thing and to a young lady at that. Really Councillor, did that seem to you like the sort of thing a right honourable gentleman would do, hmm?" he asked.

  "Damned woman came to my office, looked like a vagabond and laid hands on me first! I was simply defending myself," Mohran said indignantly.

  "Sergeant?" Loft said.

  "I advised the Councillor that we needed him to come to the Watch House to answer questions about the murder of one Anar Perl, formerly a spice merchant. The Councillor refused to come in for questioning so I advised him that it wasn't a request and he must come or be arrested. I put my hand on his shoulder to ensure he understood my intent and then he shouted obscenities at me and assaulted me. Of course, I defended myself and made it clear that it is not acceptable for a citizen to lay hands on an officer of the Watch, Sir," Gurnt said.

  "Sounds cut and dried to me, Councillor. You do know that assaulting a Watch officer is a serious offence, I assume?" Loft asked.

  "How dare you! Do you know who I am?" Mohran demanded.

  "Yes, I do. We checked into your accomplishments. You're Councillor Mohran, you've held that title for eight years, and you're a well-known figure in local politics. Does that answer your question?" Loft said.

  "And are you seriously suggesting that you're going to try and prosecute me, of all people, for protecting myself from this lunatic?" Mohran roared defiantly.

  "Oh, no, Councillor. No, no, no. I'm not suggesting anything of the kind. The idea of it, charge you with assaulting Sergeant Gurnt? You don't want to insist on pressing charges, do you, Sergeant?" Loft asked.

  "No, Sir. Hardly seems any point, I can't imagine he's going to be assaulting any more officers, and I think I made my point on why it's a bad idea, in any case, Sir," she said pleasantly.

  "Then what in the bloody abyss am I doing here, Captain? If you're not charging me with anything, why am I strapped to this confounded chair?" Mohran fumed.

  "I don't believe I said that at all, Councillor. Did I say we weren't charging him, Sergeant?" Loft said.

  "No, Sir. I'm certain you said we didn't want to charge him with assault," she replied.

  "Yes, I thought I'd made it clear. What was the charge we were looking at again?" Loft asked.

  "Murder, wasn't it, Sir?"

  "Yes, that's the one. Wouldn't be much point charging a murderer with a mere assault, it's not as if his punishment is going to get any more severe, is it?" Loft scoffed.

  "I don't suppose so, Sir. Can't see the magistrates handing out more than the chopping block after they've put the black caps on. What would be the point, two years hard time followed by the block? It's not worth it, is it?" she said with a shrug.

  Mohran mouth was hanging open. His face had gone from the bright purple of rage to a pallor that was hard to distinguish from the recently deceased. He began to stammer his protest, "But, I'm… I'm innocent! I haven't killed anyone. You have the wrong man!¬You can't charge me with murder!"

  Loft looked at his sergeant, and she grinned back, he turned back to the Councillor with a puzzled expression, "Are you quite sure, sir? I'm somewhat perplexed I admit. I'm pretty sure we can charge you with anything we want and put you before the magistrates. They'll decide your case on the evidence we give them, and it seems clear cut to me. You're the best suspect we have, no-one else seems to have had a dispute with the man, and you were most unpleasant to him it seems."

  "I didn't murder anyone, Captain. Who are you even accusing me of killing? I don't know who you're talking about!" Mohran whined.

  "Anar Perl, the spice merchant, latterly of Westgate. You placed an order for a rare spice with him, and when it didn't arrive as quickly as you'd hoped, you refused to pay for it and argued with him quite vociferously. His records show the debt is outstanding," Loft explained.

  "Him? That buffoon couldn't get what he'd said he would. I'm not going to pay someone who can't even get the goods I ordered when I need them, the whole thing was ridiculous. The jumped up little shit insisted I'd agreed to buy the spice and I had to pay for it. What good is spice for a cake if you don't get it until after your sister's birthday, I ask you?" Mohran protested.

  "I'm sure it's not nearly so useful, but it's clear to me that you had a contract with the merchant and there was nothing about a timescale in it. A reasonable man would have asked how long it would take to get the goods which you presumably didn't. That doesn't matter now, what matters is that your dispute with him made you so angry that you decided to kill him. I put it to you, Councillor, that you punished him in the most gruesome manner, inflicting suffering the like of which I've never seen," Loft said.

  "I deny it, I never so much as struck the man. I'm not a violent man, I swear," Mohran protested.

  "No? We have a witness to your anger, and you also assaulted my Sergeant, in front of witnesses. I don't think that argument will get you very far," Loft said.

  "That's completely different. Surely you can see that? I didn't even order the spice, my housekeeper did. He kept telling her it was coming and he would deliver it when it arrived. Eventually, she told him it was too late and that I no longer needed the shipment. That's when he wrote to my office insisting I pay. The cheek of the man, I had my secretary send back a letter refusing," Mohran said.

  "I see and then what happened? How did you end up at his shop arguing with him, Councillor?" Loft prompted.

  "He sent me back a letter from a damned lawyer. An actual lawyer over some spice! Can you credit it?" Mohran said.

  "I saw the value of the spice and it came all the way from the City States and beyond it seems so yes, Councillor, I can credit it. Do go on," Loft said.

  "Well that was far enough I thought. I had my carriage take me to the shop, and I told him to his face I wouldn't pay his damned bill. We argued, and I made it plain I wasn't scared of his blood sucking lawyers. I know we were loud but you can ask my coachman, he'll swear that the man was alive and unharmed when we left. I don't need to attack a man who's being unreasonable. I'd resolved to let my lawyers handle it. I have the best lawyers, the best," Mohran said.

  Loft slowly nodded as if he was coming around to Mohran's point of view. Then he slowly withdrew a packet from his jerkin and emptied on the table between them. The golden link they'd found slid out of the packet with a heavy clink.

  Mohran's brow furrowed noticeably. "Where the hell did you find that?" he asked.

  "You recognise it then, Councillor?" Loft asked.

  "I lost a link just like it a while ago, some idiot tripped and fell into me. He grabbed the chain as he fell and it snapped, one of the links couldn't be found. Damned nuisance, I had to pay for the repairs too, for a chain I don't even want to wear, would you believe it?" Mohran complained.

  "That's an interesting story, Councillor. I'm afraid it doesn't explain how we found the link in the victim's bedroom, by the body though," Loft replied.

  "Well I didn't leave it there, I assure you. I don't know how it ended up there, but perhaps you should try and find the man how bumped into me, instead of accusing me of murder. It happened in the entrance hallway of the council chambers, there were plenty of people who saw the whole thing, and you can ask my staff about it. They have the receipt for the replacement. Now, are you going to release me or do I have to send for my l
awyer?" Mohran asked with a none too subtle hint of venom in his voice.

  "We will have to look into the story before we can release you. As for a lawyer, I'm surprised that you don't know you're not entitled to one, Councillor. You only get a lawyer when you're bound over to the magistrates for trial," Loft explained as he stood up and walked to the door.

  "Sergeant, please have Councillor Mohran taken back to his nice comfortable cell and make sure he gets something to eat, won't you? He looks quite pale from hunger," he said as they left the room, with Mohran still bound to his chair.

  Loft turned to face Gurnt when the door was closed, glanced back at it and began to walk back to his office.

  "It's not an ideal situation, Sergeant. You understand that Northridge Court is likely to bring you up before a magistrate for a disciplinary review for this? It's looking less and less probable that we can prove the Councillor is guilty which won't help. At least if he were a murderer they might not worry about your conduct," Loft said softly.

  "Oh yes, Sir. I shouldn't worry about it; it's not the first time," she said cheerfully.

  "He'd bound to be connected. You could get into serious trouble for this, Gurnt. Get the wrong magistrate, and you could be stripped of your rank and sent to a penal mine," he said, trying to impress upon his Sergeant the severity of the issue.

  "Penal mine? Not bloody likely," she turned to face him, "I appreciate the concern, Sir but don't worry about me. I'll be fine, I always have been before."

  "Sergeant," he began and then gave up with a sigh, perhaps he could get through to her later. "Just, be careful about this is all I'm saying for now. I can't afford to lose my second in command over something like this. Moving swiftly on, please let the lads know that I don't want that antiquated restraint chair used for the next interrogation unless either you or I order it. We're not barbarians, so unless we have an uncontrollable lunatic let's not act like it, eh?"

  "Right you are, Sir. No restraints for the next interrogation, just a plain chair," Gurnt confirmed.

  "Well, you can use handcuffs if you think it's necessary I just don't want to find some petty thief strapped to that chair like I'm about to pull his teeth out with pliers, clear?"

  "Crystal, Sir. What's next?" Gurnt asked.

  Loft absent-mindedly ran his hand through his hair, as he considered their options. Someone would need to go and speak to the staff in the Council offices. If Mohran was telling the truth, they didn't want to leave him stewing all day.

  The assault on Sergeant Gurnt notwithstanding, they couldn't charge him with anything if the story about how his official chain got broken was true. Not unless they found a witness or some other proof he was there.

  He'd briefly stuck his head around the doorway into Dr Gardener's workspace earlier and instantly regretted it, so Loft knew the doctor wasn't ready to speak to them yet.

  The only thing he could think of at this point was to try and find the family and the second house. That wouldn't be easy. They'd found nothing in the shop that indicated where they might live. The baker had mentioned that Perl used a local glass blower's services, so that seemed like the best place to start looking.

  "Right, I'm going to go to my office and make some notes to try and get all this straight in my head. You get someone to take him back to the cell, then organise a few bodies to go to the Council offices and talk to the staff. I want to know if Mohran's story is true or not. If it is, we need a description of the man who broke the chain. What do you think the odds are that he's involved with the killer and they got the chain link just to make it look like he was guilty?" Loft said.

  "I won't take that bet, Sir. I don't think that obnoxious little weasel has it in him to kill anyone or watch it done, and that story is too easy for us to check if he was lying. I'd like it to have been him, but I'm sure he's guilty of something else we can get him for eventually. Maybe not murder but I'd be willing to bet we'll catch him doing something nefarious if we wait long enough," Gurnt said.

  "Let's do that then, just don't make a big thing of keeping an eye on him. If you hear anything we can get our teeth into, let me know, and we'll investigate it," Loft said.

  "Anything else?" Gurnt asked.

  "Yes, make sure the lads take notes when they talk to the Councillors staff, I want to know everything they say, I want times, dates and descriptions. I want to make sure that we can put this thing together and we don't miss anything. Make sure they get the receipt for the replacement link as well. Oh and make sure they find out what the Councillor actually does and what his responsibilities are. If this is an attempt to discredit him, there'll be a reason. If they just wanted someone to take the long drop for the murder, they'd make it look like a competitor or someone who couldn't afford a defence in court. The more we know about Mohran, the better our chances of resolving this. Once that's all organised, come and get me from the office and we'll go out for our next tour around our fair city," Loft said.

  "Where are we going next, Sir?" Gurnt asked with interest.

  "We're going to find Perl's family if we can. They must know something that can help. We'll start with the glass blower the baker told me about, but I've no idea what to do if that doesn't get us anywhere so let me know if you have any ideas," Loft said.

  Sergeant Gurnt nodded at him and then walked off toward the kitchen bellowing for Corporal Skorta. Loft winced and wiggled his finger in his ear to clear the ringing as he climbed the stairs to his office.

  Chapter Nine

  "So Mr Verre, what can you tell me about Anar Perl?" Loft asked.

  "He was a good customer Captain Loft. I'd known him for years. Lovely family. His boy's a bit of a daydreamer but bright as a button and polite," Verre replied.

  "What did he buy from you? Anything unusual?"

  "Just large jars for the most part. Sometimes he'd buy small bottles, a few bits and pieces for his house and gifts for his wife. Nothing I'd call unusual, Captain," Verre shrugged

  "No special orders?" Loft pressed.

  "No why do you ask?" said Verre, looking a little puzzled.

  "We're trying to determine why someone would want to kill him Mr Verre. We don't have many people to look into that knew him in more than passing terms. We've even less reason to think anyone held a grudge against him. If anything he seems to have been very amiable. Anything you know could help," Loft said.

  "I understand. Unfortunately, I never made anything particularly special for him. He only ever bought the same sorts of things, so I didn't need to make orders just for him unless he needed more than I had. I don't suppose jars are what you're interested in though?" Verre said.

  "Not really, no. What about the gifts for his wife?" Loft asked.

  Verre gestured toward a display on the wall behind Loft, "He'd buy ornaments for his wife but nothing special. It's mostly training pieces that my apprentices make. She isn't a demanding woman, he always said. Never one to be impressed by baubles, so he wasn't buying anything extravagant for her. Just to show he was a caring husband. Some of my customers place orders for custom works, chandeliers, animals sculpted in glass, that sort of thing but he wasn't one of them."

  Loft nodded, "Do you know where they live?"

  "Yes, I have the address for deliveries," Verry said, flicking through a box full of cards he brought out from under his counter. He fished one of them out and presented it to Loft, "There you go, Captain."

  Loft thanked the glass blower and asked, "What did he use the bottles for do you know? I only saw the large jars of spice on display."

  Verre walked over to a shelf and picked up two bottles handing the to Loft, "He'd buy these. Half of them the large green ones and half the smaller blue ones."

  "What are they used for?" Loft said.

  "I don't know, Captain. Most of my customers that buy them are apothecaries and chemists, so they're usually used for medicine. But he never said what he was putting in them. These have tight stoppers for liquid, see?" Verre said, demonstrating the mechanism,
"It's quite water tight."

  "He did buy some glassware a few times, the sort of stuff you'd use for chemistry, boiling liquids and so on. I always imagined he was making some kind of liquid flavouring or spice extract. I assume it was a liquid because of the stopper, but he could have put any fine powder in them I suppose. These bottles are more expensive than most because of the colour and craftsmanship. It must have been valuable stuff, whatever it was," Verre shrugged.

  "Did he make medicines of any kind?" Loft asked.

  "Not that I'm aware of, Captain. He was probably distilling spices for food though. You might be better off asking a chef what it might have been. I just make the glass I'm afraid," Verre said.

  "Yes, I suppose so. Well, thank you very much for your time, Mr Verre," Loft said setting the bottles back down on the counter as he left.