Unofficial Detective

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Unofficial Detective Page 4

by Kathryn Wells


  'Fine,' the Inspector said. 'But let me do the talking.'

  'I must warn you, Inspector, that this is highly inappropriate,' the wizard who had led them around before said. 'We shall need to hear the grounds on which you base this ill-considered theory of yours!'

  They were in the entrance hall of the Wizard Council. No one would let them go any further without an explanation. At least half of the members were standing around them, and Thordric could almost feel their anger.

  'Calm yourselves,' the Inspector said. 'We simply need to carry out a simple post mortem to find out the true cause of death. I know it is against your usual protocol, but the circumstances were certainly unusual.'

  'Nonsense! There was nothing unusual about his death,' the wizard said. 'He simply felt that he had lived long enough and thought it was time for his eternal rest.'

  At this another wizard stepped forward from the crowd and put a hand on his shoulder, standing a full head higher than his friend. He looked solemnly at the Inspector and sighed. 'It is strange that his reverence would not think to inform us of his decision, though. Even you cannot argue that, Rarn,' he said. 'If the Inspector here believes that that is enough grounds to open an investigation upon, then we must accept it.' He tuned to the Inspector. 'Forgive me, Inspector. I am Wizard Vey, one of the candidates for the position of High Wizard. I'm afraid my brethren are still very set in their ways. Perhaps we can have lunch together and discuss the matter further.'

  'That would be delightful,' Thordric's mother said, stepping forward with a slight curtsey. The Inspector caught the look she gave Wizard Vey, and his moustache began to bristle. He bowed stiffly, motioning to Thordric to do the same. Vey clapped his hands, dispersing the angry crowd of wizards and ignored their rude comments.

  He took them down the corridor and made a sharp left to another corridor, making his shoulder-length dark hair sway to the side. Thordric had deep suspicions that the building changed with the wizard's will, for he certainly hadn't noticed a corridor leading left before.

  The corridor was slightly lighter than the previous one, and the fires hanging by the walls were a pleasant pink. There were no doors to the sides to reveal what went on, just a long steady path that sloped up gently. Just when Thordric's feet began to ache, they came to an ornately carved door depicting a cherry tree in full blossom. Wizard Vey opened it, and Thordric blinked. The very same cherry tree was now in front of them, for real. They were in the Council's garden, and he had to admit that it was even lovelier than the rumours described.

  Although the cherry tree was the main feature, situated in the very centre, other trees surrounded the area, all just as delicate looking. Thordric couldn't help gazing at them as Vey led them to a large, ovular table, carved from rose quartz. He sat down and noticed a tree directly opposite him. It had a blue trunk and bright yellow leaves; the one next to it was purple and didn't have any leaves at all. Instead the branches were covered in soft looking fur. He soon found that the cherry tree was the only normal tree in the whole garden.

  'You will forgive me for the long walk here, won't you?' Wizard Vey said, pouring Thordric's mother and the Inspector a glass of sparkling white juice, made from a fruit that had the power to induce instant giggling in anyone under the age of twenty. Thordric frowned as he was served only water.

  'Why of course,' Thordric's mother said, beaming. The Inspector had to quickly cover his moustache with his hands to stop her from seeing it curl up to his nostrils.

  'We have so few guests, I thought it only right to bring you here,' Vey continued, smiling slightly so that his short beard parted down the middle. 'Still, it does seem a shame that we have to talk over such a macabre subject.'

  With his moustache smoothed down again, the Inspector spoke up. 'Macabre as it may be, it is of the utmost importance. I'm sure your brethren would feel much better knowing the true cause of his death.'

  A young wizard with trembling hands appeared from behind one of the stranger trees, balancing four bowls on his arms. He served them quickly, and to Thordric's delight he found that the starter was one of the special rainbow soups that had recently been developed. Every time he dipped in his spoon, it changed to a different colour, though to his disappointment the flavour remained the same.

  'Tell me,' Vey said. 'What exactly is it that has caused you such concern? Rarn told me yesterday that you hardly looked at the body, other than to pay your respects. He did mention that your errand boy here seemed very curious though.' He looked at Thordric with interest, and Thordric opened his mouth to speak, but remembered the Inspector had said he was deaf and dumb. However, the movement hadn't been lost on Vey.

  'What is it you saw, boy? Don't be afraid to speak,' he said. He seemed so much more trusting than the other wizards that Thordric had met that he didn't hesitate.

  'A small dot above his ear, you say?' Vey said, pausing. 'Yes, I admit magic does sometimes leave a mark like that. Although what someone was doing practicing magic on High Wizard Kalljard is anyone's guess.'

  The Inspector broke in. 'We strongly believe it had something to do with his death. It does sound a lot like a target mark,' he said.

  Vey's eyes widened. 'Surely you're not suggesting…'

  'I'm afraid so,' the Inspector said. 'The Pathologist and I strongly believe that High Wizard Kalljard was murdered.'

  Chapter Five: Odour of Magic

  Wizard Vey sat there blinking. His soup lay cold in the bowl, untouched, as he tried to absorb what the Inspector had just told him. Thordric hadn't thought about how much of a shock it would cause everyone to say that Kalljard had been murdered. Who would be brave enough to do it, and why? High Wizard Kalljard had been the most powerful wizard in history.

  'What…what needs to be done?' Vey said after a moment.

  'Well, as we mentioned earlier to…er…Rarn, I believe you said? Yes, well as we mentioned to him, you'll need to sign the body over to our pathologist here so she can make an official report,' the Inspector said.

  Vey sighed, 'Very well. It will take a few hours though, as I need approval from all the Council before I can do it.'

  'Do you think you can get them all to understand?' the Inspector asked, raising an eyebrow.

  'I have no doubt. I'm sure that as soon as I explain the situation, they'll be only too anxious to discover who the killer is,' Vey said with conviction.

  'You do understand, of course, that if he truly was killed by magic, then it puts the whole Council under suspicion,' said the Inspector.

  'Yes, Inspector, the thought had crossed my mind.' Vey sighed. 'This will be a blow to everyone if it's true, our whole way of life will change if people start to doubt us.'

  The Inspector got up, extending a hand to help Thordric's mother, while subtly kicking Thordric in the shin to stand up. 'We will be discreet, Wizard Vey. If it is someone on the Council, then the papers shall never find out.'

  'Thank you, Inspector. And thank you, young man for speaking up. Had you not have, we would all have been deceived.' Vey held out his hand to Thordric, who shook it respectfully.

  Thordric felt a sharp pang run through him as their hands touched, but decided not to say anything. It was probably just his magic clashing with Vey's. Or so he hoped.

  Back at the station the Inspector sent out two constables to find Macks, the reporter who he had clashed with the day before. Having had no grounds to keep him in, he had been forced to let him go, but with all the new developments, the Inspector wanted Macks where he could keep an eye on him.

  Thordric was set to his normal duties again, and was just making the Inspector a fresh batch of tea when the constables came back with Macks struggling in their arms. 'I'm telling you, you have no right to do this! What is it you think you can charge me with, eh?' Thordric heard him say. The Inspector must have heard him too, for he emerged from his office with a grin so large it obscured his moustache.

  'Ah, Macks, so good to see you,' he said, bouncing on his heels. 'I'm afraid that you
r cold-hearted display for the High Wizard's death has earned you some more time in the cells.'

  'What a load of nonsense! You can't keep me here based on that! That's why you had to release me yesterday,' Macks said, still struggling.

  'I beg to differ; I've had word that you've been snooping around trying to get a glimpse of the body so you can write about it in that foul paper of yours. Such disrespect for the head of the Wizard Council leaves me no choice but to lock you up until the official burial. After all, there are laws dealing with public menace,' the Inspector smirked.

  Macks made a rude gesture at the Inspector, which earned him a hard kick in the back of the knee, sending him crashing to the floor. The Inspector chuckled and gestured to the constables to drag Macks down into the cells. Thordric watched them go, forgetting the tea he had been brewing. The Inspector saw him.

  'Thornby, stop gawping,' he said.

  Thordric looked down, and noticed that the tea was now almost three times as strong as the Inspector liked it. He groaned and poured it away to start again. When it was finally ready, he took it into the Inspector's office with a generous plate of Jaffa cakes and laid it all on the desk. The Inspector gave it a single look of acknowledgement and waved Thordric away to the far wall, where he always stood when he had no tasks.

  He watched the Inspector dip one of the Jaffa cakes into his tea, cursing as someone knocked on the door and it sank to the bottom of his cup.

  'Come,' the Inspector said, fishing into the cup with his fingers. A constable entered and waited patiently while the Inspector retrieved the soggy Jaffa cake and ate it.

  'What is it, constable?' the Inspector said.

  'We've just had word from Wizard Vey, Inspector. He has managed to attain the approval of all the Council members and is signing the release form as we speak.

  'Excellent! Thorsted, go and tell your mother that she should be receiving the body shortly.

  Thordric didn't hesitate. He left the office, hurrying past the constables' desks, and went out into the bright afternoon sun. He shivered. Despite the brightness, the cool thrust of winter had begun to set in.

  He ran to the morgue, arriving with a curious mix of sweat and numb limbs. His mother was sitting in her office, busy writing a report.

  'Hello, Thordric,' she said, looking up and setting down her pen. 'I can only assume that you've come to tell me I'll be receiving the body soon.' Thordric nodded, and they heard a tap at the main door. 'Very soon, apparently,' she said. 'Let them in while I set up my equipment.'

  He opened the door to find four members of the Wizard Council personally delivering the body. They had wrapped it in a deep purple velvet sheet, covering it completely, and had placed it on a rolled glass stretcher. He wondered how no-one had seen them bring it here. 'Please, try not to damage his body too much,' one of them said, casting a suspicious eye at Thordric.

  'Don't worry, gentlemen,' his mother said, gliding across the room towards them. 'I will be as gentle as I can.'

  They put the body down onto the work slab and huddled out of the building. Thordric shut the door after them and turned to see his mother delicately removing the velvet sheet. It came free easily, and she gasped as the face was revealed. They had clothed the body in a simple white robe, which she removed too. 'I didn't expect him to look like this!' she said, still staring.

  Thordric thought he heard a slight catch to her voice, but when she spoke again there was no trace of it. 'Is this what he looked like when you saw him yesterday?'

  Thordric, who had been floating by the door, went to have a closer look. 'Yes,' he said, somewhat surprised that it hadn't deteriorated further.

  'If the Council come out with any anti-ageing potions, remind me not to take them,' she murmured. She placed a hand on the body, nodding to herself. 'As I suspected, his skin has hardened.' She made a note of it on her clipboard. 'Where did you say that mark was?'

  Thordric showed her, and she made another note. He could still smell the strong metallic smell of before. It must have been a very powerful spell.

  'Are you certain that it was made by magic? It looks just like an ordinary mole to me,' she said.

  'I'm certain. The smell is still there too.'

  'Smell? Are you sure?' she asked.

  'Yes,' he said, adamantly.

  'Okay, I'll make a note of it. I wish I could compare the mark to something, just to be sure.'

  Thordric caught her hint, and still slightly nervous that she would disapprove, focused his powers and landed a red mark on one of the anatomical figures dotted around the room. He fetched it over, and his mother held it next to the mark on the body.

  'Well, aside from the colour difference, it does look awfully close. But yours is slightly rougher than that one,' she said.

  'It doesn't smell as much, either,' he said, frowning.

  She ignored him and made to rub his mark off. It wouldn't go. 'Now that's interesting. If I can't remove his one either, then I could be certain of it for sure.'

  She tried it, at first just using water, but when that failed, she used some of the chemicals she had, including some acids. Nothing worked. The mark remained untouched.

  'I think you're right, Thordric. It really was put there by magic.' She thought for a moment. 'Go back to the Inspector and tell him what we've discovered so far. I'll carry on with the post mortem and see what else I can find.'

  The Inspector almost purred when he heard the news, and was so pleased that he gave Thordric the rest of the day off. Thordric, of course, hurried straight off to Lizzie's so she could continue teaching him.

  He found her waiting for him on the doorstep. 'I had a feeling you'd be coming,' she said, smiling.

  She led him into the kitchen again, where she promptly found him some more things to mend. When he tried to use his magic on the first one; an old pot so black inside that it looked like she'd used it to store coal in; he found he just couldn't concentrate.

  Lizzie watched him struggle. He got more and more flustered by the minute, and finally gave up and threw his hands in the air. With a yelp, he found that he had propelled himself to the ceiling, and was now floating up there, hitting his head as he bobbed up and down.

  'It seems like you've had an exciting day,' she said, almost laughing. 'I'll fetch out some cake and you can tell me all about it.' She disappeared into the pantry, leaving him still bouncing into the ceiling. He tried to push against it in the hopes that it would send him sailing towards the floor, but it just made him bob about more violently.

  She appeared again and set the cake down on the table, and brought out a rope from under her arm. She threw it up to him and told him to tie it around his foot. He did so, bending over so that he could reach, and found that he was now upside down. He got dizzy as the blood rushed to his head. Lizzie tugged on the rope, arm over arm, and he flipped back up again and was slowly lowered to the floor. When he was down, she tied the rope tightly to the table in case he floated off again.

  'There,' she said, sitting down. 'That wasn't so difficult, was it?'

  After he had eaten a rather large amount of cake, Thordric told her everything that had happened since he and his mother had left her house last night. Her eyes widened when he told her about being taken to the Wizard Council's private garden for lunch, and a smile touched her lips as he revealed what his mother had discovered so far. 'Well, that is quite the story,' she said when he had finished. 'So, you were able to make a mark without any hesitation? That's good. It shows your training is starting to sink in.' She untied the rope from his foot, and to his amazement he found he was still able to stay seated in the chair.

  'I'm not floating,' he said.

  'You've calmed down now, that's why. My husband learnt that magic is always harder to control when you let your emotions get in the way.' She placed the blackened pot back in front of him. 'Try again.'

  He did. It worked straight away; the pot was gleaming as though he'd been scrubbing it for hours.

  'Good,' Li
zzie said. 'Carry on with the rest; I have some work to do. Find me when you've finished.' She got up and left the room, leaving him there.

  He gritted his teeth as he looked at the huge pile, and went about fixing them all one by one. It began to get easier with each one he fixed, and within half an hour he had finished. Standing up with a huge grin on his face, he went off to find Lizzie.

  She was in one of the rooms upstairs, and had covered her dress with a large white overall. Tins of bright paint lay around her feet, and she had a paintbrush in one hand. Half of one wall had been painted a bright green.

  'You've finished already?' she asked.

  'Every last one,' he said, pleased with himself.

  'You're learning fast then.' She looked around the room, and a smile touched her lips. 'Think you'll be any good at painting?'

  'I did help mother redecorate a few years ago,' he replied.

  'Good.' She picked up another paintbrush and gave it to him. 'I need you to paint the back wall in this orange,' she said, undoing one of the paint tins. He dipped his paintbrush in, about to brush it along the wall.

  'Oh no,' she said. 'You have to direct the brush with your powers, not your arm.'

  'I-I can do that?'

  'Of course you can,' she said. 'Just think of your mind as an extra hand, and feel the weight of the brush in it.'

  He tried, and the brush flopped about and fell on the floor, marking the floorboards with a large orange splotch. 'Are you sure this is possible?' he asked.

  'Yes, yes. My husband used to do it all the time. Try not to paint the floor too much, because you'll be the one clearing it up.' She turned away, continuing to paint her wall green.

  He looked at his brush, still weakly flopping about on the floor, and groaned inwardly. With a mighty push, he willed it to float up to shoulder height. He watched it hover there, trying to direct it over to the wall. Instead it came towards him and hit him in the face with such force that he staggered back and put his foot in the paint tin. Lizzie turned around to see his face and half of his leg covered in orange paint, and started to laugh so hard that her hand went weak and she dropped her own brush.

 

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