“We can’t rule him out yet. I’m not too interested in the sister—it’s not likely she’s involved. Who are our other players? Staff—Benen, I’ll want you to check and see if there’s anyone who switched positions from the Nevgeradel home to the Fergus mansion over the past day. Unlikely, but worth a shot.”
“There’s both Evander Fergus and Alasdair Fergus, Junior,” said Raldina. “Although if we’re thinking this has to do with the blackmail—and that it’s about Evander’s affair with Graden Fallswenne—neither Alasdair nor staff members are very likely culprits.”
“But Graden or his family may be,” said Thea. She tacked up the two names. “I want to interview them, and the asshole in the cell. Easier to start with him, then have him take us to Graden at the docks.”
“You think they’re still screwing each other?” asked Raldina.
“Why not? Wouldn’t you? Trelayne, put the Fergus criminal in the interrogation room.”
Benen got up to do as told, hoping Thea wouldn’t go too hard on Evander, hoping he wouldn’t say too much. He trusted Evander—he must, for the maze to have spat them out—but still he worried.
When he reached the cell, Evander was pacing, three steps one way, three steps back. Benen pulled his cuffs and unlocked the door. Evander looked up, fear in his gaze for a moment until he saw Benen. He noticeably relaxed.
“Turn around,” said Benen. Evander raised an eyebrow.
“Drop my pants?”
“Just,” began Benen, and grabbed his shoulder. Evander let him push him around, didn’t resist when Benen cuffed him, but nor did he make it easy. “You’re going to be questioned. Cooperate.”
“Oh, wonderful, I have so much to say. Were you aware a person cannot actually stretch out completely in there? Your cells are inhumane. How am I supposed to sleep?”
The guard at the entrance to the cells shot Evander a nasty look as they passed. Benen had to march him forward like any other criminal, not as gently as he would have liked. Either Evander was playing along well, or going to cause trouble. Benen gritted his teeth, unlocked the interrogation room. Thea and Raldina were already there, Raldina with paper and pen. Benen slammed Evander down in the wooden chair so hard he made a noise.
“Ow! My tender posterior—”
“Shut up,” said Benen, and turned to go.
“Stay, Trelayne,” said Thea, not looking at him. “I want you here for corroboration. On the maze, at least.”
Benen stayed near the door, watching Evander, whose eyes trailed to him once before finding their way back to the detectives in front of him. He sat in the chair, back straight, like he wasn’t in a filthy, dimly lit station room, but someplace like the sitting room of his family home.
“I’m Lead Detective Thea Lister, this is Assistant Detective Raldina Fiyor. We have a few questions for you regarding the murders of Josen Nevgeradel and Alasdair Fergus.”
Evander froze, unblinking. He glanced at Benen, who wished more than anything he could relax his expression into one of apology and sympathy, but he couldn’t risk Thea or Raldina seeing him show Evander anything but cold hardness. If they knew he’d fucked Evander…not only would he be taken off the murder case, he could be demoted. Screwing around with a potential murderer…Benen would apologize later. If he could. If there was a later.
“I’m asking the questions, not him,” said Thea.
“Eh, he’s just used to having his whims indulged,” said Raldina, leaning back in her chair. “People like him are spoiled. Aren’t you, Fergus? Already spotted your next target? We know you like men.”
“I—what?” asked Evander, looking back and forth between Raldina and Thea, then to Benen again. He was completely caught off guard. Benen felt sorry for him. “My brother?”
“Any reason you’d assume it’s him?” asked Thea.
As Evander stared at Thea, trying to work out what she might be saying, Benen let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Evander had done all right, not rising to Raldina’s bait. It occurred to him Evander must have built up the skills for hiding his relationships—that was why it was the murder that was really unsettling him. Evander swallowed, recovered some. He didn’t look happy.
“Had you ever met him, I’d suspect you’d understand why someone would wish to kill him. He is…morally deficient.”
Thea stared at him until he squirmed, but it was Raldina who spoke, amusement pulling her lips up.
“Interesting coming from someone who had no shame fucking his sister’s fiancé. Sounded like more than once, too. Not so much a mistake but a…character flaw, is that how you’d put it?”
Evander’s mouth opened slightly, but he caught it mid-drop and closed it. Still he had better sense than to look at Benen, which was only mildly a relief—Benen’s mind went wild, wanting to know if Evander blamed him, thought he’d spilled this. He had to resist squirming himself. He hated this. He wished Thea could just jump to the point where they confirmed Evander couldn’t have killed his father. But Thea sat there, watching Evander, until he gave in and spoke. It didn’t take long. He was obviously not used to being treated like this.
“We…might have entertained ourselves occasionally. In my defense, it began before he proposed to my sister, and I found out that through my brother, since he didn’t tell me. Alasdair was very smug about it all. He, I believe, was the one to suggest he propose in the first place, and I would not be surprised if he led my father to discovering us together—”
“We know it was Graden Fallswenne,” said Raldina, and Evander winced, swallowed, continued.
“Well. I’m simply stating that Alasdair had a tendency to involve himself in others’ business, if you understand. I think he was irritated our father never let him take too many of the family reigns, so he went off and found his own.”
“This fucking family,” said Raldina.
“Now that you mention it, he did somewhat take after Nevgeradel, didn’t he? Is that why he was murdered? My brother was working with Nevgeradel? Or perhaps he was a budding blackmailer—”
“It’s not your brother,” said Thea, interrupting Evander, who looked over at her, unblinking. “Your father was the one murdered. Bludgeoned like Nevgeradel. Anything you can tell us about it?”
“No,” said Evander. He sank back in his seat a little. He was getting overwhelmed. Raldina scoffed.
“Really? He caught you and Graden together. He threw you out. You have nothing to say about his murder?”
Evander narrowed his eyes, frowned. Benen didn’t like where this was going, but he couldn’t say anything without it being suspicious.
“I understand it is tempting for you to see a bit of a hushed scandal and not look any further, but it should be obvious even to you that I didn’t murder anyone. Do I look like a man who could bludgeon someone to death?”
“You know what I’ve discovered in my years working crimes like this?” asked Thea. She leaned forward and smiled. “Anyone can bludgeon someone to death. You’d be surprised what a little rage, a little bitterness can do to a person. Twists them all up inside. Then you just have to let it out.
“Would you like to know how I see it, Fergus? Your brother may be a little shit, but it’s your father who threw you out and ruined your life, reduced you to a common criminal. You came in here to steal that orb, didn’t you? Lucky for us it went off and Trelayne was here to deal with the situation.”
“But none of this makes me a murderer,” said Evander. Benen could hear a touch of fear in his voice now. “You mentioned it yourself. I was here last night, stuck in the orb’s magic with your officer. He can confirm that. My father couldn’t have been murdered before last night, or you would have certainly known about it. I—”
“Yeah, we were stuck in that spell together,” said Benen, interrupting before Evander’s anxiety spiraled out of control. Raldina glared at him. He was supposed to let Evander talk himself into a wall, but he just couldn’t.
“That’s why I think you an
d Graden are covering for each other,” said Thea. “Aren’t you? Nevgeradel was blackmailing both your families over this. You were both kicked out for a while. You both still had each other, but it wasn’t enough—you went after Nevgeradel, and let yourself be caught here, so you’d have an alibi when Graden went after your father. Then I suspect Graden would find someone to give him an alibi while you went after his family. All very neat, but confusing enough to us trying to work it out that we’d likely clear both of you.”
Evander opened his mouth, shut it. Stared wide-eyed at Benen, who couldn’t look at him without dooming them both, so he didn’t.
“What did Nevgeradel have, Evander?” asked Raldina. Gently. Using his first name. “Love notes? Gifts?”
“I—we didn’t do such things,” said Evander, but his voice was low, tired. He sagged forward. “We weren’t in love. Not in the sense you seem to be implying. We appreciated each other, but neither of us cared to build a life together. Graden would say the same. There were no notes or gifts. I…think of someone else that way.”
Benen’s heart picked up speed and he silently swore. Of course. Evander did probably have someone he loved, and Benen should get used to the idea. Their time in the maze meant they trusted each other—nothing more. The moment he realized there’d be no chance to finish what they’d started, Benen felt irritated, but he stifled the emotion. Had he wanted Evander so badly, he should have accepted the offer while he had the chance. He had no one to blame but himself.
“Well,” said Thea, and sat back. “I think you ought to introduce us to Graden now. Don’t look so confused. We know you both live down by the docks.”
“He does?” asked Evander. Thea gestured to Benen and Raldina rolled her eyes.
“Please,” she said.
Benen hauled Evander off the chair, never wishing so much he could speak than he did now. But anything he wanted to say to Evander would have to wait.
* * * *
Evander took them to his room, a dimly lit thing that turned out to be an attic. He lived above a fisherman’s family, who lived above a tailor’s family, who lived above the tailoring shop. The stairs up to his room were steep and narrow, and Benen was instructed to let Evander stumble forward first, still cuffed, then follow behind, his Turtledove drawn.
“Hoping I’ll be bludgeoned?” asked Evander, bitterness in his voice.
“I’m covering you,” said Benen, conscious of the fact Raldina was behind him. “Stop whining. If what you say is true, Graden doesn’t know you’re here either.”
“That doesn’t necessarily follow,” said Evander, then tripped, shins hitting the stairs hard. He yelped. Benen yanked him to his feet by the shoulder. “He could know about me, even as I didn’t about him…”
Evander fell silent at the top of the stairs and pressed himself to the wall to allow Benen access to the door.
“Key?”
“My front pocket,” said Evander, and when Benen looked over at him he smirked.
“I’ll cover you,” said Raldina from behind them. “If you try anything, Fergus, I’ll shoot you.”
“What am I going to do? My hands are restrained,” said Evander, then jutted his hips out as Benen slid a hand into his pocket. “Nice touch, sir.”
Benen felt his face heat. He remembered what they’d done, just a few hours ago, and touching Evander like this brought the memory back in full. Benen could see Evander growing hard in his tight clothes and swallowed. Of course the asshole would try to embarrass him. He felt around for the key, drew it out, swallowed again. Evander grinned broadly.
Although Benen was fairly certain there was no one in the room, he shoved Evander through first as Thea had told him. Evander staggered, caught himself. The space was small, the roof sloping, and Benen cleared it fast, replaced his Turtledove II. He caught Evander’s shoulder and steadied the man, giving the shoulder a quick squeeze he didn’t think anyone would notice.
Raldina entered and started tearing the place apart, yanking the blankets off the bed, going through the piles of clothes and shelves of items—razors, mirrors, books, the occasional trinket Evander must have lifted. Evander tsked at her, then started as Thea came up behind them.
“Stop making nice with the asshole, Trelayne,” she said, then to Evander, “I’m supposed to expect you don’t know where Graden Fallswenne is?”
“Why should I?”
“I count four different lubricants,” said Raldina over her shoulder, sifting through Evander’s toiletries. “Make that five.”
“That does not mean he and I—”
“Just how many people do you fuck?” asked Benen before he could stop himself. Evander shut up fast.
“That’s not what I care about him lying about right now,” said Thea, motioning to Raldina to pass her a towel from a stack.
“It’s the occasional,” said Evander in a mumble. His gaze was apologetic and Benen couldn’t meet it. They were practically a glance from giving away how close they’d been, and Benen didn’t want to lose his job over something like this. “Really. I have a collection because I’m particular—”
“Why should I care?” asked Benen in a growl. “Fuck whoever you want. I do.”
Evander opened his mouth to reply, but both his and Benen’s eyes were drawn to what Thea was pulling from underneath the bed. It was long, and thin, and topped with a hunk of metal that would have looked much more impressive without the blood and hair encrusting it.
“Would you look at that,” said Raldina. “A fancy cane. With two different kinds of hair stuck to it with—is that blood?”
Her tone was mocking, but Benen watched the blood drain from Evander’s face and knew the man hadn’t seen that before, certainly had no idea it was under his bed. He swayed on his feet slightly and Benen caught him by the arm.
“Steady,” he mumbled.
“Steady? Steady? Someone wants me to die!” Evander gulped a breath and did as Benen said, regained control of his voice. “That is not mine, detectives.”
“Never seen it before, right?” asked Raldina. “Figures.”
“What do I do?” asked Evander, and he sounded so distraught, Benen kept hold of his arm and squeezed.
“If you’re innocent, we’ll clear you,” he said.
“If,” said Raldina. “And it doesn’t look good for you, does it?”
“I want to speak with Graden,” said Thea, frowning at the cane. “Where would he be?”
“I really do not know.” Evander tried to slump against Benen but Benen pushed him away. Evander would have to stand on his own feet a little while longer, although Benen had to work hard to stifle the urge to wrap Evander in a hug, give him a little comfort. It did look bad. Very bad. Estranged son, scandal, murder, the weapon—and it did not seem to Benen from meeting Alasdair that the man would care to interfere on his brother’s behalf.
“We’ll have to ask around,” said Raldina.
Benen released Evander and moved to take off his shirt. Raldina blinked at him, Evander gaped; Thea had moved to the one window and was looking down at the street.
“I’ll do it,” said Benen. “There oughta be some clothes that’ll fit well enough in that pile.”
“They’re all dirty,” said Raldina.
“That’s fine. I’ll be back as soon as I can, but if you want to find out where Graden is, you need someone who can blend in to ask. That’s me.”
“You’ll take me with,” said Thea. She checked to make sure her Turtledove II was well out of sight. “He owes me money. You’re my guide.”
“You could get yourselves killed,” said Evander, and Raldina arched an eyebrow his way. “Everyone here could figure me out at a glance. Police are less liked than even people like me. We spend money.”
“No one can tell I’m police,” said Benen, somewhat offended. He switched his knife over but left the Turtledove with Raldina, then rolled up his sleeves to show his scars. That along with the bruise on his face should be enough for anyone to thi
nk twice about messing with him, and Benen knew it’d be easy to fall back in with the old gait and mannerisms. Some things just came back to you, regardless how long you avoided them. Things like blending in, scrapping.
He glanced at Evander. Things like trust.
* * * *
They found Graden in an alley behind a stack of dirty and ripped boxes. His clothes were filthy and torn and he was sleeping under sacks like the girl who’d tipped them off had said he’d be. Apart from a scruffy cat with a judgmental gaze, Graden was the only occupant of the alley. Benen approached him, wary. There were a few packets of sugardream magic crystals strewn about—empty, he hoped, but still it made Graden a target, and therefore them as well.
“Hit the crystals hard, didn’t he?” Thea nudged a brown paper packet with her shoe. “Pricey, from what I hear.”
“About a week’s worth of food,” said Benen. They both knew those who wanted it got it, though. And it explained why Graden was living on the street. “We should make this quick. This packet’s only half empty. Surprised no one’s pinched it yet.”
Benen pulled the burlap sack off Graden’s face and his snoring broke off. The man looked sickly and undernourished, and had a red nose. Benen grabbed him by his shoulders and yanked him up. Graden yelped and blinked, moving to scoop his packets close to himself. His eyes darted about, glistening. Benen held back a sigh. This asshole didn’t kill anyone. He looked like he could barely stagger down the street and order a bowl of soup.
Part of him had been hoping that, unlike Evander, Graden had hardened. Become a fighter. Was the murderer, so clearly, maybe even would confess to it. They could release Evander on the spot, arrest Graden in his place, and maybe, just maybe Evander would let Benen drop by later to apologize. But the man leaning up against the wall now, eyes wide and watering, clearly couldn’t have killed anyone.
“Graden Fallswenne,” said Thea, leaning close. Graden blinked hard. “I have some questions.”
“Whatever it is you want, it’s nothing to do with me,” said Graden. He rubbed at his nose with pasty, bony fingers. Benen doubted he’d eaten anything in days, the way his skin hung on him. He motioned with his shoulder.
The Officer and the Thief Page 7