Unofficial Detective

by Kathryn Wells

  Thordric scowled and used the same technique that he had been working with to clean the pots on the paint that he was covered in. He felt an odd sensation of something very hard and thin scraping across his face and leg, and saw the paint being forced off him into a giant floating ball. Trying not to lose his focus this time, he grabbed the paint tin and held it under the ball. He released the ball and it fell neatly into the tin with a wet splat. He then turned to Lizzie, who was still watching him, and made a grabbing motion with his arm, lifting her paintbrush up and floating it back into her hand from where he stood.

  'I told you it was possible,' she said. 'You've just got to be determined.' After that he managed to keep his brush floating in the air, and had painted half the wall when they heard a knocking from downstairs.

  'Who on earth could that be?' Lizzie said. 'I'm not expecting anyone at this hour.' She put down her brush and took off her overalls. 'Wait here,' she said.

  Chapter Six: Unofficial Detective

  Thordric put down the paintbrush and put the lid back on the tins of paint. Quickly checking his uniform for flecks of paint, he headed downstairs to see why Lizzie had called him down. When he reached the front door, he saw a constable standing there speaking to her. The constable looked at him gravely and beckoned to him.

  'The constable here says my brother needs you back at the station,' Lizzie said before the constable could open his mouth.

  'I'd better be going then,' Thordric said. 'I resealed all the paint tins, ma'am, and the wall should be dry soon. Please don't hesitate to ask if you need any more chores doing.' Lizzie raised her eyebrow slightly but said nothing. She knew he was right to be formal in front of the constable; questions would certainly be asked otherwise.

  The constable tipped his helmet to her, and Thordric copied, miming with his bare head. As they turned their backs on her, she closed the door, but he could feel her eyes on them still. He wondered if the constable felt her watching too, but if he did he certainly showed no sign of it. He didn't speak to Thordric for the whole journey back to the station, and Thordric's body tingled with the need to know why he had been called back.

  He knocked on the Inspector's office, entering after the muffled reply from within. His mother was in there waiting, and the Inspector immediately stood up and offered him a Jaffa cake. Thordric felt his jaw drop. He took it as though he had just been offered a nugget of pure gold. The Inspector watched him eat it before clearing his throat.

  'There have been some more developments that I believe you should be made aware of. Maggie, would you care to tell him?'

  Thordric's mother smiled. 'After you left, Thordric, I carried out a full post-mortem on the body. At first, I found nothing out of the ordinary apart from the state of his skin, but then I looked at his stomach contents. It was full of potion.'

  'Which means,' the Inspector carried on. 'That the theory the other wizards have about him not taking it is nonsense.'

  'Yes, Inspector, I remember them speaking about it,' Thordric said. 'But if he was still taking the potion, then what was it that caused his skin to go like that?'

  'That,' the Inspector said, rocking back and forth on his heels. 'Is exactly what you are going to find out.'

  'Me? But how?'

  'Maggie here is convinced that you have honed whatever powers you have so that you can control them.'

  'Um—'

  'Don't worry, Thordric, he's not going to punish you,' his mother said.

  'She's right, Thormble, at this moment I'm not interested in how or why. Frankly, we have never had a case like this, and indeed we don't believe anyone in the world has. We're out of our league, and, though it almost shames me to admit it, we need someone of your type to help us figure out exactly what was done.'

  Thordric blinked several times. They wanted him to help with the investigation? To use his magic? It was unheard of.

  'May I sit down for a moment, Inspector? My legs seem to have gone weak,' he said, collapsing in a chair before the Inspector could reply.

  The Inspector coughed. 'So, er, as I was saying. You are to act as detective, unofficially, of course, we can't risk this getting out to the papers.'

  'I thought we had Macks in the cells?' Thordric said.

  'We do.' The Inspector picked up a Jaffa cake, speaking again with his mouth full. 'But there are plenty of other reporters around here that are almost as ruthless as he is, and they would pounce on it just like a lion on his prey.'

  Thordric thought for a moment. 'But I don't know anything about detecting. Where would I even start?'

  'Nonsense, you started already by finding that mark on High Wizard Kalljard's head. All you have to do is find out what type of magic caused it and whether it had any influence over his death. It should be easy if you truly have talent.' As the Inspector said this, the corners of his mouth lifted into a smirk. He was testing him.

  'What if I need to get back in to look around Kalljard's chambers? They won't let me in if they find out what I am, and there could be tons of clues in there. Magic leaves traces, you know,' Thordric said.

  'If that is the case, then I shall accompany you and say that it is I who is looking for clues. You are my runner, after all, and seeing as you have been there twice now with me, I don't believe they'll turn you away,' the Inspector said.

  'It will be fine, Thordric,' his mother said, getting up. 'Oh, I've put the potion I found in High Wizard Kalljard's stomach in a jar. I'll need you to find the rest of it so we can confirm that it truly is his everlasting youth potion.'

  'I'm sure I can do that…' he said, hoping his uncertainty wouldn't show in his voice.

  The Inspector got up too. 'Well then,' the Inspector said, screwing up his face in deep effort. 'Thordric, you had best be getting some rest. Off you go, and be back here early, ready to work.' The Inspector really was serious about this: he had got his name right.

  As he walked home through the dark streets, lit with bright green fires this time, he felt so light that he could skip, but behaviour like that would hardly get him taken seriously. Neither would his current appearance, come to that.

  That night, standing in front of his mirror, he had an idea. If he could force dents out of a kettle, perhaps he could force some hair to grow on his head. He stood there, gazing at his reflection, noticing how much stubble had grown back on his scalp, and also the fine hairs covering his upper lip. He willed it all to grow.

  Nothing happened at first, but then it started lengthening inch by inch. It got to the length he wanted, just covering the tops of his ears, with a moustache neatly spread across the top of his lip. He pulled back his powers so that it would stop. It didn't.

  He willed and willed to make it stop, but that only made it grow faster. It launched past his shoulders and then his waist, without any sign that it would halt. He panicked.

  Scrambling about, he looked for scissors or a knife to cut it with, but found nothing. The noise made his mother call up the stairs, but when it didn't stop, she appeared in the doorway.

  By this time Thordric was barely visible under the great mass of hair and moustache, and at first she screamed, thinking he was some sort of beast. Then she caught sight of one of his hands. 'Thordric! What an earth have you done?'

  'I can't make it stop,' came the muffled reply.

  'You must be able to,' she said. 'Maybe do whatever you did in the first place but reverse it?'

  'It doesn't work!' Thordric said. His feet and hands were all tangled up in it and he could hardly move. 'Stop, stop, STOP!' He followed it with a long trail of swear words that turned his mother pale. To both their surprise, it worked.

  Thordric let out a sigh and fell to the ground, exhausted. Quickly, his mother found the scissors and cut a hole around his face so he could breathe properly.

  'Before I cut the rest, I believe an explanation is in order,' she said.

  'I just wanted some hair,' he moaned. 'I wanted to look respectful, like a detective should.'

  'Oh,
Thordric! It's not appearances that make you respectful, it's how you act. If you want people to take you seriously, then you have to act seriously.'

  'I know…but I think I should have some hair at least.'

  She thought for a moment. 'Alright, as long as you keep it neat. I won't have you walking around with a mess like you used to have. And no moustache.'

  'But—'

  'No moustache.'

  'Okay, mother…' he said glumly. She took up the scissors again and started cutting off the great lengths of hair, leaving the amount he wanted. She cut the substantial amount of moustache, and then produced a razor so he could shave off the rest himself. He went to the bathroom and came back a few minutes later with cuts all along his lip. His mother had no sympathy.

  'Next time you have a brilliant idea concerning magic, talk it over with Lizzie first. Perhaps then it won't turn into such a mess.'

  The next morning Thordric found himself back at the morgue with his mother, looking at Kalljard's stomach contents. The potion hadn't been fully digested yet, and so remained the bright pink that would be in the rest of the bottle when he found it. He took a small vial of the potion from his mother and put it in his pocket, grimacing.

  'What do you think about the mark?' she asked him. 'Is it likely that it killed him?'

  Thordric thought for a moment. 'I don't think so. When I made that mark to show you, all I was thinking was to put a dot on something. It's not really any different to putting a dot on someone with a pen or a paintbrush.'

  'So, would you say it's possible it was a target mark?'

  'Well, er, I suppose so. I need to speak to Lizzie to find out if it's possible to kill anyone just by marking them though. I still don't know enough to be sure.'

  'Make sure you find the potion first. If it turns out that it isn't what he usually took, then you might not have to look into the magic at all.'

  He left the morgue and went back to the station to find the Inspector, who was waiting for him at the front desk, twiddling his moustache. His eyes shot to Thordric's new hair and he opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Instead he coughed and said what he had been waiting to say.

  'I have just announced to the station that this investigation is officially taking place, and the Wizard Council has been informed of it too. Now would be an opportune moment to go there and explain about the developments we know of.'

  'Yes, Inspector.'

  'Keep a low profile and don't make it too obvious that you're the one looking for something.' The Inspector picked up his coat, and together they made their way over to the Wizard Council's building.

  The wizard known as Rarn let them in again, although he was much less courteous now he was aware he was under suspicion. He led them back along the corridor, and Thordric noticed that the doors along it were now wide open so they could see that nothing sinister was going on. Clearly the Council didn't like being suspects.

  Instead of leading them up the staircase to the High Wizard's room, he took them to the only door that was shut, on the left. Rarn knocked politely and waited. The door opened after a moment by itself, and Rarn led then inside. Wizard Vey was sitting at a large oak desk piled high with books. 'Hello, Inspector. Thordric,' he said, looking up. 'Rarn, you may leave now. Thank you.'

  Rarn left the room and Vey gestured to them to sit down. 'You are here on official business, I presume?' he said.

  'I am afraid so, Wizard Vey,' the Inspector replied. 'I need to have a look around the High Wizard's room. There may be something still in there that will tell us who his attacker was.'

  'I understand, Inspector. I will ask, though, that you try not to move anything if possible. There are documents in there that have to be kept in strict order.'

  'Of course, we—I mean to say, I— shan't disturb anything unnecessarily.'

  'Very well, then. I'll show you up.' He led them out of the room and up the stairs into Kalljard's room. At once Thordric was hit with an overwhelming feel of powerful magic. He wondered how he hadn't noticed before, but then it was only natural for him to start recognising magic now that he was using it more often.

  'Take as long as you need,' Vey said, before leaving and shutting the door behind him. They heard his footsteps going back down the stairs, and once they were sure he was back in his office, they began to have a look around.

  'Notice anything yet, Thornaby?' the Inspector said, looking around the bed. Thordric sighed. He had known it wouldn't last.

  'Yes, Inspector,' he said, and told him about the magic

  'Huh. Can you tell if it was done before or after he was killed?' the Inspector said, now digging around in one of the drawers.

  Thordric had no idea. 'I'm not sure, Inspector. I'll need to have a talk with my teacher and find out if there's a way to determine it.'

  The Inspector went and sat on the bed, nodding approvingly as he tested the mattress. 'This teacher of yours, is he a- the same as you?'

  'No, she isn't. Her husband was though, which is why she knows so much about it.'

  The Inspector raised his eyebrows. 'My sister was married to a- one of your type. I never got on with him myself, but she thought the world of him despite his, uh, failings. Used to tell her…' He looked at Thordric, and his moustache sprung out like a fur cone. 'She's teaching you, isn't she!'

  'Yes, Inspector,' Thordric admitted. 'You shouldn't be angry with her, she's teaching me the magic I'll need to solve this case.' He was looking at Kalljard's desk as he spoke. It was full of loose papers, each specifying the plans for new spells and potions. He read them all briefly, but couldn't see anything suspicious about them other than the fact that they hadn't been signed yet. Opening the drawers, he felt around inside, but there was no sign of any bottles at all. Where would he have hid it?

  He scanned the room, ignoring the Inspector burbling on about his sister. There! His eyes locked on to the bed post, just above the Inspector's head. There was a faint outline on it, as though there was a hidden compartment. The Inspector watched him curiously as he went over to it and put his hand on the wood. Finding the edges, he tried to prise it open with his fingers. It wouldn't budge.

  Chapter Seven: Intensive Training

  Thordric tried to force the compartment, digging his nails into the slots aggressively. Still it didn't open, and he looked around for something more substantial to use as a lever. He tried some of the pens on the desk, and then his house keys, but nothing quite fit. He was about to give up when the Inspector pulled out his moustache comb. It was thin and made of metal, with teeth sturdy enough not to bend. Perfect! Thordric snatched it up, almost jarring the Inspector's finger up his own nose, and prized it into the small gap. He tugged at it, and with a small pop, a cube of wood shot out and landed at his feet.

  In the space where it had been was a glass bottle lined with silver, half full of pink liquid. Thordric pulled out the vial of Kalljard's stomach contents and held it up against the bottle. The colour of the potion was an exact match.

  'So he really had still been taking it,' the Inspector said. He raised an eyebrow. 'Strange that he didn't use magic to hide the bottle, though.'

  'The building is full of magic, Inspector. I'm sure most of the members here could break any magical seal easily, and would probably look for one.'

  'So he did what they would have least expected and just hid it the normal way? A smart man,' the Inspector mused. 'Shame his killer didn't do the same thing. None of this messing about trying to figure out what magic was used and when.'

  Thordric said nothing. He put the bottle and the vial in his pocket, and pushed the wooden cube back into its place, leaving no trace that they'd found anything. He looked around the room again, still feeling the magic that had been used there.

  'I'm sorry, Inspector, but there's nothing else I can do here at the moment. I have to go back and talk with Lizzie. There are still lots of things I need to learn before I can figure this out.'

  The Inspector grunted. 'Very well.
At least we've found something here.' He got up, muttering something under his breath that sounded to Thordric suspiciously like 'Not a complete waste…'

  They left the room, and found that Wizard Rarn was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. He eyed them up, the corners of his mouth dipping, but said nothing. He led them back along the corridor, and Thordric saw some of the wizards that had been working in the rooms come to see them go. He could feel their dislike towards himself and the Inspector for questioning their ways. He felt no sympathy for them.

  As soon as they were out of the building, he felt himself relax. The breeze cooled his face and drew away the intensity of the magic that had stifled him so much. It struck him how ridiculous the Wizard Council truly was. All they did was make spells and potions for people that didn't have any use. None of them used their magic to heal anyone or help rebuild something after a fire or an earthquake. All the magic they sold to normal people was useless.

  He found his mother in the morgue, busy making notes on her latest occupant. He gulped as he peered over her shoulder to read what she'd written, turning several shades greener. He shook himself to recover slightly, and presented her with the bottle and vial full of potion.

  'Ah, wonderful. I'll need to filter them before I can be sure though,' she said, taking them and pouring some of each into test tubes. She labelled them carefully and then went into the store cupboard to bring out the rest of her chemistry apparatus. 'I'm fine with this myself. You can go to the Inspector and find out what he needs you to do next.'

  Thordric left to the sound of her heels clacking on the tiled floor, and headed back to the station. As usual he went into the Inspector's office, planning to ask if he might go to Lizzie's and train with her, but when he opened the door he found her sitting in the chair opposite the Inspector. She looked at him; a deep smile on her face; but the Inspector had no such smile. Thordric turned to him and saw his moustache was curling up to nose again.