Retribution (Drakenfeld 2)

by Newton, Mark Charan

  She immediately stood and came to greet us. I shambled towards her, with Leana’s support.

  ‘You should be resting but now you want to know who the victim is?’

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind,’ I replied.

  ‘Who told you?’

  I tilted my head towards Nambu.

  Sulma Tan brought over a small stool, and one other chair. ‘Please, Princess, take my seat – it has more cushioning.’

  As if this was as common an occurrence between the two as a greeting, Nambu walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down. Leana took the stool while Sulma Tan insisted I took the chair, and guided me gently to it.

  ‘You haven’t recovered properly,’ she told me.

  ‘You almost sound concerned for me,’ I said, as I eased myself down, cringing under the strain on my torso. The agony soon became a gentle, manageable throb.

  ‘It is of interest to this nation that you are well,’ she said, after some consideration. She stepped around the side of the desk, searching for something on her shelves.

  ‘I’m sure it is,’ I replied.

  She turned to face me, her gaze almost disabling me with its intensity. Her words came softly. ‘Besides, you have a good heart, and there are too few people around with good hearts. It would be a shame to lose another.’

  I didn’t know what to make of this sudden display of kindness, so decided it was best to get straight to business. ‘What can you tell me of the third victim?’

  She glanced across to Nambu, hesitating, processing.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘She’s under our protection, so she’ll do what we do, and hear what we hear. She’s proving to be rather useful.’

  There was a pause, then, though not an awkward one for me. It must have been strange for Sulma Tan to see someone speak so casually of her nation’s princess.

  She eventually continued. ‘The victim, Lydia Marinus, was a lady in her fifties. For generations her family have owned large tracts of land along the coast, as well as salt mines further inland. I wouldn’t say she was a public figure in the same way that Tahn Valin and Grendor were – she was content to live a quiet life. Her body is with us, and is to be inspected later by Carlon.’

  ‘Are the wounds the same as the others?’ I asked.

  ‘She had been tortured, yes,’ Sulma Tan said. ‘There has been no dismemberment, but her body shares the characteristic small wounds as the two men.’

  ‘Where was her body found?’

  ‘It had been dumped in the street near one of the markets. Another busy place.’

  ‘She lived in the city?’

  ‘Not for the most part. She had a dwelling within this prefecture, but a much larger residence nearer the coast. That was where she spent most of her time.’

  ‘We have another body deliberately left for the world to see,’ I said. ‘Has anyone looked into it so far?’

  ‘Not yet. But there’s more. There was a note with the body, addressed to you. We opened it.’

  ‘Addressed to me?’

  Sulma Tan opened up a book in which she’d stored the note to keep it protected. It was a small folded piece of paper, tied with string. She handed it over. ‘As I say, this was attached to the victim.’

  The note was grubby, though not stained with blood, and it was written on the cheapest type of parchment, which one might find anywhere. The handwriting was considered, and in capitals. DRAKENFELD was emblazoned on the top.

  I opened the note, assuming the others had already read the message. It said simply:

  REMEMBR, OFICER DRAKENFELD.

  WE ARE INNOCENT.

  We. Plural. More than one killer. A team of people, perhaps, or just a pair. Deliberate misspellings, maybe, or the results of partial education. Indeed, most people in a city could not write at all, so that indicated a level of sophistication consistent with someone who lived in this prefecture.

  I tried to pick apart the meaning behind it. On the assumption it was written from the viewpoint of the murderers, it implied – with them being innocent – that they were attempting to justify what they had done. But then again, it could have been written on behalf of the victims. That they were innocent people, who had no reason to die. Or that it was an attempt to throw me off the scent entirely.

  A more disturbing realization was not simply that whoever did this knew who I was, for a good deal of the court already knew. But that they knew I’d get to see the next victim – and had transformed it into a public spectacle, with me in the front row of the audience.

  I revealed my thoughts to the others, before adding, ‘And this note was definitely attached to the body of the corpse?’

  ‘Tied to the collar of the victim,’ Sulma Tan replied. ‘Does it prompt any thoughts?’

  ‘It prompts thoughts, all right,’ I replied. ‘But are any of them helpful? Probably not. It’s vague enough to give nothing away from their point of view – other than the fact that we’re not dealing with a single murderer. Then again, committing such crimes alone would have been very difficult. No, this note is the worst kind: cryptic, with no hard evidence, confession or lead. It can keep a mind bubbling over for days as a distraction. That might even have been the aim of it.’

  ‘You have had notes like this in other cases, yes?’ Sulma Tan enquired.

  ‘Not all that many, but a couple. None of which were very helpful.’

  A silence lingered, while I still looked at the note, each of us considering our own thoughts.

  Eventually it was Sulma Tan who spoke: ‘Leana gave me an update on what else you’d managed to find out before your attack, and I am impressed. Do you have anything else to add to those matters?’

  As much for my own benefit as Sulma Tan’s, we quickly went over the previous discoveries. I even mentioned the letter that the jeweller had just sent. As I spoke she moved over to examine a ledger on one of her shelves.

  When I finished I asked, ‘What have you got there?’

  ‘I’m examining a list of our major importers and their goods . . .’ She paused as if following a hunch. ‘No, nothing. I had hoped we would have records. However, I do have an address for Naval Exports, which you may find useful.’ Smiling, she made a quick copy of it and handed it over.

  ‘Thank you,’ I replied. ‘Did you ever make a list of places where these people could have been tortured?’

  Sulma Tan regarded me with a tired glance. ‘Yes, yes, of course. However, such a request is ultimately futile – there are hundreds of buildings with workshops attached to them – this city is built upon such crafts as leather-working, tanneries, butchers to handle the meat, and so on. The more I looked, the more I found. That is, of course, if you limit yourself to merely workshops. Any room could be suitable for such grim deeds.’

  ‘What about the list of people who are worth more detailed research?’

  ‘There are seven hundred and forty-six people who are of a class you seek and who are of those trades you suspect interact with the victims.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘My sentiment was similar.’

  ‘Do many individuals stand out as potential suspects?’

  Sulma Tan gave a shake of her head.

  ‘Do you think, from those names, there are some whose business connects with both the military and religion, or religion and trade?’

  ‘I can whittle down the list, if you think it is necessary?’

  ‘I do,’ I said. ‘Is the map coming along OK as well?’

  Sulma Tan nodded. ‘On it I have begun to plot locations of murders and those fitting the class profile within the prefecture.’

  ‘And then we can search these places.’

  ‘I will enlist good soldiers,’ she added, ‘ones I can trust.’

  I resisted the opportunity to make known my opinion of the nation’s soldiers, given my recent beating. ‘But now, we still have much to do.’ I pushed myself up, pressing my eyes shut as pain shot through my body.

  ‘You should t
ake things gently,’ Sulma Tan said. ‘You are no good to anyone if you’re injured, am I correct?’

  ‘If I should do anything,’ I said, smiling, ‘it will be to inspect the body.’

  ‘Can I come?’ Nambu asked.

  ‘You think you can stomach the dead, young lady?’ I replied.

  She nodded, but I wasn’t so sure. There was only one way to find out.

  ‘Lead the way then,’ I said to Sulma Tan.

  As I made to move I stumbled; she dashed to my side and levered my arm around her shoulder. ‘It seems I have little choice but to lead, unless you wish to crawl there.’

  ‘I have no desire for that,’ I replied.

  Lydia Marinus

  Fifty-six years ago Lydia Marinus entered the world in my home city of Tryum, Detrata, born to an extremely wealthy family. When she was ten her father died suddenly and she moved to Koton with her mother. Her mother remarried quickly, linking the family company with the owner of a Kotonese salt mine. Their company grew and, thanks to the growing strength of the Vispasian Royal Union, trade flourished. They were able to make huge amounts of money in both Detrata and Koton, using old and new connections. Her mother died and, with no other siblings, the family business came to Lydia.

  Tragedy struck again: when she was thirty Lydia’s husband was killed in a riding accident. She did not remarry and with no children was more interested in her work. She set about building the biggest corporate empire in Koton, and one of the largest in the Vispasian Royal Union. Unlike most people with such status, however, she was not one for social gatherings and tended to lock herself away in her country property. She paid her taxes to the state of Koton regularly, always early, and always more than was expected. ‘When someone makes as much money as I do,’ she was said to have once announced, ‘it all becomes rather abstract.’

  And now her life had ended, Sulma Tan concluded, in the most brutal fashion. If there had been a family curse, it had been thorough.

  Sulma Tan explained that Lydia’s will would have to be examined to see who would benefit from her business empire. It was not likely to be someone desperate for an inheritance. As she had been generous with her money while she was alive, it was probable that she wouldn’t have left anyone in the family in financial trouble.

  Lydia Marinus’ body was laid out in the same chamber where we inspected the other two corpses. She had been prepared: her skin cleaned, her clothing removed, and left with only a thin sheet covering her body. The hundreds of lacerations were painfully obvious. A thick red wound curved across her neck where the knife had ended her life. She was tall, slender, with youthful looks for her age, and brown hair that showed only a few strands of grey.

  Her arm slipped off the side of the slab as if of its own accord and hung down to one side at a shallow angle.

  Sulma Tan gasped. Even my heart skipped a beat, but I walked over and placed her arm firmly back in position, noting the stiffness of death had long since set in.

  ‘Nothing out of the ordinary,’ I reassured her.

  Sulma Tan did not reply. Clearly convinced the body possessed strange properties in the same way as the bishop, she could not even make eye contact with me.

  ‘Where was her body found?’ I asked.

  ‘A street that leads away from the marketplace.’ Sulma Tan sighed and shook herself from dark thoughts. ‘As it happens very near Grendor’s house. It was in full view for everyone to see. Again without anyone actually seeing the body being brought there, which must have happened in the early hours of the morning.’

  ‘You interviewed neighbours?’

  ‘We disturbed every one of them from their slumber.’

  ‘Good,’ I replied. ‘Was there anything with the body?’

  ‘Only her clothes, and when we peeled them back we could see . . . well, the same cruel acts had been carried out.’

  Carlon hadn’t arrived yet, but Sulma Tan reminded me that the biggest difference between her death and Grendor’s was the fact that her throat was cut. With the bishop’s head being severed, it could not be said if that had been the act that killed him. She had suffered the same numerous cuts to her body as the others – hundreds of tiny wounds, including her eyes being stabbed. Her tongue had also been removed.

  ‘Again, it is all very ritualistic.’

  ‘Yes. The number of bruises present,’ Sulma Tan concluded, ‘suggest that she put up a fight.’

  She looked at me for the first time with something resembling fear. Who could blame her? Three high-profile individuals had been killed in similar ways.

  ‘What did Carlon have to say about it?’ I asked.

  ‘He concludes the obvious really – we’re looking for the same killer, someone who has been tracking down individuals with one simple plan: to make them suffer immensely before killing them. Interestingly, he also theorizes that her mood was calm and relaxed – sanguine at the point of death. This is comfort, of a kind.’

  ‘I know little of medicine but I suspect that comfort suggests she might have known her killers?’

  ‘He has many theories,’ Sulma Tan said. ‘I don’t know how much we can invest in this one.’ There was a tiredness in her eyes now, raw compassion and humanity showing through her countenance.

  Processing the sight before us, I could only agree with Carlon – it was even more likely we were dealing with the same murderer, though I never liked to commit to a conclusion.

  ‘Such incidents are rare across Vispasia,’ I ventured. ‘Those who strike more than once are usually paid killers, and like to make their kills cleanly and efficiently so as not to be caught. This is something different. The death is so inefficient, if you follow. The murderer had time.’

  ‘And knowledge of the movements of the wealthy,’ Sulma Tan added.

  ‘Our killer’s profile remains consistent at least,’ I suggested. ‘Access to higher circles. The luxury of time to commit atrocious acts. The care never to be seen by anyone nearby, which implies a rigorous plan in place . . .’

  ‘A darker power at work, am I correct?’

  I could only shrug.

  REMEMBR, OFICER DRAKENFELD, the note had said. WE ARE INNOCENT.

  Nambu stepped in beside Sulma Tan, looking over the body, her face catching the light of the nearby lanterns.

  ‘And what does the Princess Nambu Sorghatan have to say for herself?’ I asked, limping as I stepped alongside her.

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’ Nambu’s gaze drifted across the corpse. The expression on her face reminded me of when I was very young, looking at my mother’s body laid out in a temple. My father then had encouraged me to touch her beautiful, dead face. And I did. I most recall the surprise at how cold her skin had become. Now I had grown used to such things, but that initial sensation brought home the fragility of life.

  ‘Touch her skin,’ I said to Nambu, and the princess did.

  She snatched her hand away. ‘It’s so cold. She doesn’t look real.’

  ‘It’s how we’ll all end up,’ I said. ‘Well, hopefully not quite in this state.’

  ‘How can you all talk about her so casually?’ Nambu asked. ‘She was a real person not so long ago.’

  She had a point, though I didn’t believe we were being disrespectful. ‘In our business, one becomes familiar with the dead.’

  ‘I’ve never really thought about dying,’ Nambu muttered.

  ‘You don’t at such a young age, do you? The whole world extends before you – the options seem endless. Dying isn’t really much of a concern.’

  ‘I hope it comes quickly,’ she said.

  ‘You hope what does?’

  ‘Death,’ she replied. ‘I hope mine comes quickly. I would not want too long to think about it.’ Nambu stepped away – not out of fear, or upset, but because she had seen enough – and stood beside Leana, who remained as indifferent to the subject as always, in a way that I envied.

  In the lingering silence, Sulma Tan took my arm and steered me into a corner of the room
. ‘People are now truly worried, Officer Drakenfeld,’ she whispered.

  ‘Lucan.’

  She nodded. ‘They’ve got a name for whoever did this. They’re calling him the Koton Cutter.’

  ‘They shouldn’t attach a name to this individual. It creates a myth around them. Whoever did this could well be fuelled by their own success. We’re dealing with a strange mind here, which doesn’t need any more encouragement.’

  ‘Well, you try persuading the masses then. They are uncontrollable.’

  And I had few doubts that they had tried to do so . . . ‘I appreciate that wouldn’t exactly be easy. Crowds behave differently in such situations. They have a mind of their own.’

  ‘That is why the prefecture has now been locked down,’ she said. ‘The gates are sealed and there are regular – and I mean almost all the time – military patrols.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What else can the queen do?’ she continued. ‘She must be seen to act. This is about stilling the populace. Calming them.’

  A pause, and she looked directly at me. ‘Do you think there will be more victims, despite these measures?’

  I eyed the corpse again. ‘Without a doubt. To know such wealthy people, to then remove them from their premises or place of work, I’d say the killer’s well and truly inside the prefecture.’

  ‘Then we had better go to my offices,’ Sulma Tan replied. ‘I have procured for you the map you required and now we have another body to plot on it.’

  A Cartography of Murder

  It was an impressive piece of work, far beyond what I had asked for. Made from different rolls of parchment and affixed to the wall, the map was several feet wide. I could walk up and down the city in four steps. Sulma Tan explained that she had it commissioned as soon as I had asked for it, and that the city’s foremost cartographers had come together, to scale up existing maps as accurately as possible. She was proud of her work and smiled at me as I marvelled at the detail.

  ‘Naval Exports, Grendor’s business premises, are here.’ She leaned over the corner at the far end of the map, where the prefecture changed its rigid lines to meet the informality of the natural river.