Unofficial Detective

by Kathryn Wells

  Thordric had gone unnoticed until then, but now the wizard turned to him curiously. 'And who might this be, Inspector? As you know we have strict regulations about who we let inside our walls.'

  'Oh, the boy here?' the Inspector said. 'He's just my errand boy, thought I'd bring him to keep him out of trouble. Deaf and dumb, you know.'

  Thordric struggled to keep his jaws shut.

  'Curious. How is it that you get him to do what you want?' the wizard asked, peering at him as though he was a goldfish in a bowl.

  'I write him notes, and he can lip read to some extent.'

  'Can he be trusted? We carry a lot of secrets in these walls, secrets that we would prefer not to find themselves in those dreadful newspapers.'

  'Of course, of course. But I assure you, the boy could be questioned until his arms drop off before he speaks any secrets. We tested him on such matters just recently, and he passed with ease,' the Inspector said, without any hint of a lie touching his face. Thordric only hoped that his own face gave none of his surprise at the Inspector's words away.

  'Excellent,' the wizard replied, far too enthusiastically to be convincing. 'Please follow me, then.'

  The wizard led them down a long corridor, past rooms where many strange smells and sounds emanated. One door had been left open, Thordric noticed, and inside he saw a bright white room where squares of different sizes and shapes shuffled themselves around on the walls, trying to connect. The Inspector caught him gawking and rapped him sharply around the head with his knuckles. It hurt.

  The corridor seemed to stretch on and on forever, but then the wizard made a sudden gesture with his arm. A staircase appeared in front of them, narrow and twisting and made of hard stone. At the top was a slender gold leafed door, embossed with the Wizard Council's black and silver emblem. The wizard paused before opening it. 'We arranged the body in his chambers for those of importance that wished to pay their respects. I must warn you, however, that in death he does not look as he did in life. Due to the magical extension of his life, his body has deteriorated far quicker that one would expect.'

  The Inspector bowed his head gravely, and the wizard opened the door. Inside, the room was decorated with rich velvet furnishings in deep reds and blues, and bookshelves lined the circular walls. In the middle was a grand four poster bed, and on it lay the body, covered up to the neck in silk sheets.

  Thordric took in a sharp breath as he saw High Wizard Kalljard's face. The skin had become hard and leathery, curling his upper lip into a sneer and revealing several gold teeth. His hair and beard were thin and grey, hardly resembling the thick lustrous condition it had been known for. A strong musty smell came off him, although the other wizards had tried to mask it by covering the bed in flower petals.

  'Great Spells!' the Inspector said. 'Is this really the result of his prolonged youth?'

  'Sadly it is,' the wizard said.

  'How terrible. I don't suppose you have any idea what killed him?'

  The wizard shifted his face, his expression becoming unreadable. 'There has been some speculation. Many, myself included, believe that he simply decided to stop drinking the potion sustaining him, although it would have taken several weeks for it to completely clear his system.'

  'So you're suggesting suicide?' the Inspector said, glancing up.

  'Well, yes, I suppose you would call it that. However,' the wizard said, dropping his voice slightly. 'Others believe that he was pressured into doing so. There have been a surprising number wishing to challenge his thoughts on half-wizards throughout his reign.' He shot a look at Thordric, who almost tripped over the large rug on the floor. He gulped.

  'You think he killed himself because of a few half-wizards? I wouldn't have thought he would lower himself to their level.'

  'Quite, Inspector; quite. But it is not I that think as such. Only some of my brethren.'

  Thordric shifted uneasily and went back to look at Kalljard's sunken face. He noticed that he could see the outline of his bones under the covers, and had to shake himself slightly. He had never been good with dead bodies, even when he had gone to visit his mother working away so peacefully at the morgue. He was about to turn away, when another smell hit his nostrils. It was tangy and metallic, like the smell of rust, but much stronger. He looked around to see where it was coming from, but noticed something odd. Just above Kalljard's right ear and almost concealed by his thin hair, was a brown dot, almost like a mole; it was so perfectly round that he knew it couldn't be one. It reminded him of the paint marks he had been practicing on the tree stump that morning, and the more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that someone had been using Kalljard's head for target practice.

  With a slight sinking feeling he observed that it was a lot smaller and neater than his had been- the work of a true master. Perhaps he could practice again when he went back to Lizzie's on Sunday.

  'When will the burial take place?' the Inspector asked, bringing Thordric's attention back to the conversation.

  'Unfortunately it will take place no sooner than a week's time. As unexpected as this was, we haven't had an opportunity to prepare the tomb.'

  'I see. Well, I humbly offer my condolences and will of course keep the papers away at all costs.'

  'Thank you, Inspector. Let me show you out.'

  Once they were outside, the Inspector hit Thordric sharply over the head again. 'What did you think you were doing, you great oaf?' he said to him.

  'What do you mean, Inspector?' Thordric said, rubbing his stubbly head. He hardly noticed that the crowd had disappeared, leaving the constables to collect all the litter that had been left behind.

  'Floating around the body, as if it was a great spectacle at the circus!' the Inspector said. 'Whenever you are out of the station, you are to conduct yourself with the greatest possible dignity and poise. Regardless of your position, you are still a member of the station, and you represent everything we stand for. Behave like that again and not even your mother will be able to argue for leniency for what I'll do to you.'

  Thordric quailed and tried to mutter an apology.

  'Enough of that nonsense. Run back to the station and pour me a tea in the largest cup you can find, and I want a whole stack of Jaffa cakes to go with it.' Thordric ran.

  The Inspector had calmed down enough after his twelfth cup of tea to ask Thordric to send for his mother. He caught the look of fear on Thordric's face and assured him he only wanted to let her know about the body. Thordric was about to leave, when he suddenly remembered something.

  'Sorry, Inspector, I was supposed to tell you this earlier–'

  'What is it now, Thorndred?' the Inspector said tiredly.

  'It's your sister, Inspector. She's asked me to help her with her chores every Sunday.'

  The Inspector choked on his tea. 'Lizzie asked you to come back? I was hoping,' he coughed awkwardly, forgetting himself. 'I mean to say, I thought she may have chased you back out with a broom, given her less than cheery disposition.'

  'She said it did cross her mind, Inspector,' Thordric lied. 'But she found that I have quite a skill for fixing things.'

  'Hmm. Very well then, if she wants you back I see no reason why I should refuse to let you.'

  'Thank you, sir, I mean, Inspector,' Thordric said, and rushed off to the morgue.

  His mother was completely shocked by the news of Kalljard's death, but was profoundly impressed when Thordric said the Inspector had taken him to see the body. 'He must be starting to trust you, then,' she said cheerily. Thordric didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

  While the Inspector was entertaining his mother with the details of the whole thing, Thordric stood quietly by the wall wishing it was Sunday already. He longed to be able to prove that half-wizards were people of value like everybody else, and he knew Lizzie's training was the key. He couldn't wait to wipe the smug expressions off the full wizards' faces when he revealed his true abilities. He could do it, he knew he could.

  'Was there a
nything untoward about the body? Apart from its mummified state, of course,' his mother asked the Inspector.

  'Maggie! What a thing to ask. This is the High Wizard himself we're talking about, not the usual rough and tumble lot that find their way into your hands,' the Inspector said.

  Thordric's mother laughed. 'I'm sorry Jimmson, I'm afraid I get a little too carried away sometimes.'

  Thordric listened, wondering if he should mention the strange rusty smell and the mark on Kalljard's forehead.

  Chapter Four: Unfolding Suspicions

  Thordric fought with himself all evening, pacing back and forth in his room. He began stepping so loudly that his mother had to shout up the stairs to get him to stop. He almost told her then, but then his inner voice started asking, why should he? It was none of his business after all, and if the Inspector had thought him trustworthy enough to be left alone, he wouldn't have seen anything. But he had.

  Why did he care about it anyway? High Wizard Kalljard had hated half-wizards, and so Thordric had hated him. Why should he be concerned that his death was not as it appeared to be? Because I'm decent, he thought to himself. He was part of the local police after all, even if he was just an errand boy.

  In that instant he found that he had already made his choice, and feeling a lot less guilty he marched downstairs to find his mother.

  'Oh, Thordric,' she said, looking up from her desk. 'What were you doing up there? I thought the mountains had taken it upon themselves to crash down around us.'

  'I was only thinking.'

  'Thinking about what?' she said.

  'About Kalljard's body,' he replied, his voice quavering a little. He coughed, forcing it to behave.

  'High Wizard Kalljard, Thordric. Yes, I must say I've been thinking about it too. The way the Inspector described it made it sound fascinating, I would love to have a look myself, from a professional point of view.'

  'I think you might be able to yet,' Thordric said, shifting his weight from side to side.

  'What do you mean? The official burial will be closed casket, and it's unlikely that I'll make it with all the work I've got to do.'

  'That's not exactly what I meant. I-I saw something on it, while I was there with the Inspector. And there was a strange smell too,' he mumbled.

  'Bodies do tend to smell, Thordric, even if it was only an hour or so after he passed away.'

  'This was different, mother. I think it was the smell of magic, strong magic,' he said earnestly.

  She raised her eyebrows. She hated him mentioning magic. 'Well, he was a wizard, Thordric. If anyone were to smell of magic, I would suspect it would be him.'

  'No, mother, listen to what I'm trying to tell you. There was a brown dot just above his ear, and that was what the smell was coming from. The rest of him just smelt old and musty. The dot looked like it had been marked there by magic.'

  She drew herself up at this, and Thordric knew he had said the wrong thing. 'How do you know it was put there by magic?' she said, her voice cold.

  Thordric didn't answer.

  'Thordric?' she said, her voice an octave higher. Still he said nothing. He didn't need to, for she had already guessed. 'Thordric Manfred Smallchance! You have been trying to do magic, haven't you? Tell me why, this instant.'

  He gave in and told her. 'But you could have injured yourself… or worse!' she screeched.

  'I wasn't in any danger; she wouldn't have let me do it if I was.'

  'She? She? Who is this she?'

  'The Inspector's sister,' he said, and told her all about the Inspector sending him over there to help with chores.

  'Lizzie? Why…she…I…' she said, flustered. 'But she's such a grand lady, I can't imagine her even considering marrying a half-wizard, let alone teaching my own son such, such…' her voice trailed off, struggling to find the words. Suddenly she got up and dashed to pick up her coat from the rack. 'I'll show her what she can teach you,' she snarled, grabbing him by his collar and marching him out of the door.

  It was dark by now, and purple fires hung in the air, giving them light. Thordric, despite his mother's clamping grip, stopped to look at them. They had been yellow like normal fire the last time he had been out this late; that new rainbow magic was really catching on.

  His mother didn't let him dawdle for long, increasing her grip as though she thought he might run off.

  With this pace, they arrived at Lizzie's house just before midnight. Despite the lateness, she answered the door still fully dressed, and without any hint of surprise. Thordric sighed as he saw that she'd put her hair back in a tight bun again; back into schoolteacher mode.

  'Why, Maggie,' she said to his mother. 'It's been such a long time, please come in.' She stepped aside so they could go through, greeting his mother's glare as if it was one of the warmest smiles in the world. 'Hello, boy; I didn't expect to see you so soon, considering all the to-do at the Council.'

  Thordric mumbled a greeting back, glancing at his mother to see if she was going to start shouting again, but she was too taken back by Lizzie's welcome to say anything. Lizzie led them into the kitchen, where the kettle was already boiling on the stove. 'I assume you still have milk and one sugar, Maggie?' she asked.

  'I do—' Thordric's mother began, but Lizzie was already talking again.

  'I know why you're here, Maggie. You've come to tell me how wicked I am for teaching Thordric how to control and use his magic.'

  'Yes,' his mother said quietly, having lost her steam.

  Lizzie handed them both tea, and pulled out the remains of the cake she had made earlier. 'Have you considered, Maggie, that all this nonsense about half-wizards that the Council spreads is exactly that— nonsense?' She paused, taking a sip of tea. 'Half-wizards are only half due to their parents, Maggie. It doesn't necessarily mean that their magic is any weaker than a full wizard's. Your boy here probably has powers equal to those on the lower levels of the Council.'

  'But everyone knows that half-wizard magic ends in failure in the end. It's documented in history,' his mother said.

  'Yes, the failures are indeed well documented. What is left out is how many half-wizards have actually managed to use their powers successfully.'

  'What do you mean, how many? Half-wizards are rare; the ones documented were the only ones around at the time.'

  'Oh don't be so naive, Maggie! Half-wizards are everywhere, but they're too afraid to try out their magic, since everyone tells them from the moment they're born that they're doomed to failure. Thordric here has tremendous potential, but if he wants to avoid making a mess of things, he has to be trained.'

  Thordric's ears perked up. 'You-you think I have potential?' he said.

  'Of course I do, boy. I wouldn't be bothering with you otherwise. You had so much pent up magic that it would only have been a matter of time before you accidently caused a disaster with it.'

  'But that just proves the Wizard Council's theory!' his mother burst out. 'Half-wizard magic is dangerous.'

  Lizzie banged down her teacup, splashing tea and cake crumbs everywhere. 'Margaret Smallchance,' she blared. 'Stop believing what the Council says and use your own brain. All magic can be dangerous without the proper training. My poor husband spent most of his life trying to hone his powers and use them without causing harm. Full wizards don't have to do that. Their training starts when they are merely toddlers and they never have to suffer such risks as he did. Do you understand now? Half-wizard magic only fails because they don't get the chance to train it as full wizards do.'

  She sank back in the chair, bringing out the handkerchief again to dab her eyes. Thordric's mother sat there gaping. After a moment she managed to clear her throat. 'I, um…I'd never thought of it like that. Do you really believe that Thordric can be as great as a full wizard?' she said.

  'Oh Maggie, wake up,' Lizzie said, sitting back up. 'Thordric doesn't need to be as great as a full wizard. He can be great as a half-wizard.'

  At this, two great tears appeared in his mother's e
yes, and she began weeping too. 'I'm so sorry, Thordric,' she said. 'Please have my approval of your magic lessons.'

  Thordric fell off his chair. 'Y-you approve? Really?' He got up and rubbed his side. His mother inclined her head, and a huge grin spread across his face. He hugged her tightly, and Lizzie too, before dancing around the kitchen again. Somehow the copper kettle had resumed its role as his dancing partner. Then, in a moment of clarity and complete horror, he let go of the kettle, ignoring the pain as it hit his foot. He had to tell them about Kalljard!

  Stuttering with excitement, he retold his story of going to see the body, and of the strange smell coming from the mark. 'The mark was just like the ones you asked me to put on the tree, Lizzie, only a different colour,' he said.

  'You're certain?' she asked.

  'Yes, but it was more refined than mine.'

  'Well, well, well,' she said, tapping her cheek with her fork. 'Maggie, I think you'd better get the Inspector to release the body over to you. It seems there has been some foul play after all.' She suddenly let out a girlish squeal. 'How exciting!'

  The next morning Thordric appeared in the Inspector's office with his mother at his side. Ignoring the Inspector's curling moustache, they explained what Thordric had seen on Kalljard's body.

  'I have to examine it, Inspector. Just to be sure,' Thordric's mother said.

  'I don't know about this, Maggie. How can he be sure what he saw?' he replied.

  'He wouldn't lie, Inspector.' She paused. 'Please, Jimmson, do this for me. We have to be sure, after all.' She fluttered her delicate eyelashes at him, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Thordric tried not to snigger.

  'I-I'll see what I can do,' the Inspector replied at last. 'No promises though, Maggie. They won't like releasing the body to us.' He got up and put on his jacket and coat, smoothing down his moustache again. 'I'd best be off over there then,' he said.

  'Oh, we're coming with you, Inspector,' Thordric's mother said. The Inspector's moustache stuck out again at her words. 'I am the official pathologist after all; it would look highly suspicious if I wasn't present. And Thordric was there last time, so you may as well take him this time too.'