Dangerous Desires (2) (The Underground Kingdom)

by Steve Elliott

  “Okay,” I sighed, “so Fink is in charge. What do you want to do next?”

  “Let’s go to where it happened,” Thorn commanded. “Maybe you can find some clues that we’ve missed.”

  “What’s your role in all of this, anyway?” I wanted to know. “Are you a detective now, or something?”

  Thorn giggled, surprising me. I’d never heard her giggle before. She’d always previously appeared to be so solemn and stern. Was she mellowing? Interesting.

  “Of course not,” she informed me. “But after our previous adventure, the Council of Elders appointed me as a special liaison officer to the humans – specifically, you.” She flushed a little. “It was something I felt only too happy to do.”

  “You were?” I asked, arching an inquisitive eyebrow.

  “Yes, I was,” she said in an undertone, blushing a little more and looking away from me. Then she straightened herself in a determined manner and continued, “But this isn’t getting the job done. Let’s go.”

  “As you wish,” I replied, endeavouring to match her stride. “I can’t wait to see Fink again.”

  Thorn giggled again, and I shook my head in wonder. Goodness me, I thought, what’s gotten into her? She’s turning into another Tracey, although chance would be a fine thing there. I spent the next couple of minutes pleasantly fantasising about being with Tracey which, when you came to think of it, was particularly insensitive and rude to Thorn, even if she didn’t know what I was thinking about.

  * See ‘Crystal Thief (1)’

  Chapter 4

  We arrived at the alleged murder scene, only to find Fink and his cronies roaming all over the place. True to form, Fink scowled when he saw me.

  “So, you’re back,” he proclaimed, indignantly.

  “I’m afraid so,” I replied. “But I only want to help you find out what happened.”

  “You’re too late,” he announced, smugly. “I’ve already solved the case.”

  “You have?” Thorn exclaimed in astonishment. “Tell me! How did you do it?”

  “Well, to be honest,” Fink replied, a little less haughtily, “someone came forward and confessed.”

  “They did?” Thorn questioned. “Who was it?”

  “Someone called Mirnaxillum,” Fink told her.

  “I’ve never heard of him,” Thorn said. “What did he say?”

  Fink shrugged. “He simply came up and said: ‘I killed her. I’m sorry.’ And that was it.”

  “And that’s all?” Thorn enquired.

  “Yep,” Fink answered. “Short and sweet. And that’s how I like it.”

  “Did he say why he did it?” I wanted to know.

  “No,” Fink responded, frowning at me. “What do we care about his motives? He confessed. He’s guilty. It’s over.”

  “Well, thank goodness that’s finished,” Thorn retorted with relief. She shook her head in disbelief. “A One committing murder! He must be insane! That’s the only sensible explanation. Let’s go, Stephen. We’ll leave the mopping up to Fringapellumna.”

  Thorn walked away with a confident stride and I trailed after her, deep in thought. How convenient to have someone confess to the killing. It made life so much easier, didn’t it? Obviously, Fink seemed only too happy to accept the first solution that presented itself, but I remained somewhat more sceptical. And fancy not wanting to know the reason for the killing! No one commits murder without a reason. Even the insane have a motive, twisted though it may be. No, I couldn’t accept Fink’s simple explanation of the case without proving it to myself.

  I became so immersed in my musings that I didn’t see Thorn stopping and I ran into her. She grabbed me and saved me from falling over as I tottered off balance.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “I was worlds away.”

  “I could see that,” smiled Thorn. “And what were you thinking about?” Then she gave me a peculiar little grin. “Or shouldn’t I ask?”

  I looked at her in some amazement. “Was that a joke?” I asked. “Thorn, you’re so different to what I remember. I can’t recall you ever making a comment like that previously.”

  “I’ve become a little less …… uptight,” she confessed, self-consciously. “When I looked back to the person I was before, I saw myself to be so uncompromising and austere. I could barely remember even laughing. Everything was so black and white for me back then. Mostly black, really. No wonder my sister and I were constantly fighting. She’s the exact opposite of what I used to be.” She sighed regretfully. “I became so unyielding. About everything!” She looked at me, her eyes softening. “ I’m sure none of this would have happened if not for you. I think you’ve corrupted me, Stephen. Somehow, a tiny bit of you has rubbed off onto me. I hope it’s a good thing.”

  This was a side of Thorn I’d never seen before. Her softer side. She had been so reluctant to reveal her inner self before, but look at her now! I wondered what had really caused this transformation. I’d like to take the credit but I wasn’t that vain. Okay, I may have been instrumental – the first few pebbles of the avalanche, as it were – but I’m sure the rest was from Thorn herself. Remarkable. She had formless depths I’d never realised.

  “That’s always a difficult question to answer,” I confided. “Trying to predict whether changes will be good or bad is like blindly putting a hand into a dark hole. You never know what you’ll find. But at this stage, Thorn, I have to come down on the side of ‘good’. You seem a lot calmer and more open. Surely that can’t be wrong?”

  “We’ll wait and see about that,” she remarked. “In the meantime, what were you thinking about? You almost ran me down.”

  “I was thinking that Fink’s solution to the murder is somewhat simplistic,” I disclosed. “I’d like to talk to this so-called murderer and see what he has to say. I want to know why he did it or, more correctly, why he confessed to doing it.”

  “Are you saying that he said he killed that poor girl when he actually didn’t?” Thorn questioned, aghast. “Why would he do such a thing? It doesn’t make any sense at all!”

  “I know,” I agreed. “And that’s exactly why I need to talk to him. Maybe he murdered her and maybe he didn’t. I just want to set my mind at rest. I don’t want Fink jailing an innocent person.”

  “But he confessed!” Thorn wailed. “He must have killed her.”

  “So, the One don’t tell lies?” I asked, a trifle sardonically.

  “Of course we don’t,” Thorn replied, stiffly. “We say what we mean.” Then her tone became a little uncertain. “Or at least, I used to believe that. Before I met you, that is. Now I’m not so sure. Since that Power Crystal fiasco, you’ve convinced me that the One can be greedy, vain and untrustworthy. Thanks for that, by the way,” she added, sarcastically.

  “Surely you must know I never meant to hurt you, Thorn,” I consoled.

  “I realise that,” she sighed. “But it was a hard lesson from me to learn, all the same. Are all of your lessons going to be so difficult?”

  “I wasn’t even aware that I was teaching you anything,” I informed her. “Thorn, you have your own inner light. You’re a remarkable person and you don’t need anyone as a teacher.”

  “That’s a lovely thing to say,” she whispered, looking deeply into my eyes. “Do you really mean it?”

  “As sure as night follows day,” I said, confidently.

  Her eyes flickered over my face, searching for something, but I didn’t quite know what. Suddenly, she took a step forwards and kissed me.

  Now that was something I hadn’t expected. And it wasn’t a mere peck on the cheek, either. It was a full-blown, classical, lip to lip confrontation of the highest order. I was stunned. More than stunned. What’s the next level up from that? ‘Stunned-er’? ‘Stunned-est’? Anyway, whatever it happens to be, I experienced it. Thorn, of all people! I couldn’t believe it! That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy it. I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t. The feel of her lips on mine and the exciting nearness of her body came as
a revelation. A very pleasant revelation, I might add. I retained enough presence of mind to put my arms gently around her and to return her kiss. After the initial frozen seconds, that is.

  Chapter 5

  How long all of this lasted, I couldn’t tell you, simply because I lost track of time. I would have been quite content to prolong our embrace for as long as I could stay upright, but Thorn finally decided the issue by pulling away from my arms. She stood there, drowning in an embarrassed silence, her eyes glued to the ground.

  “Thorn, that was ……. amazing,” I stammered. “But why?”

  “I’m not sure myself,” she murmured, huskily. “I’m not used to this emotion displaying process yet. I’m sorry if you found it inappropriate.”

  “Hardly that,” I strongly protested. “It was delightful. Feel free to do it anytime you like.” She awarded me with a small grin, then her features metamorphosed into official lines once again.

  “Time to get going,” she announced. “We have a murder suspect to interview.”

  “At your command,” I said, still floating a little after our recent exhibition of closeness.

  Thorn led me to a nondescript building on the outskirts of town. “Is this the local jail?” I asked, looking at the dour outside of the building.

  “No,” she explained. “It’s simply a warehouse they’ve turned into something temporary. We don’t have a permanent jail as such because we’ve never needed one before. There’s no stealing or killing.” Her expression changed into a grimace. “Until now, that is.”

  She made her way inside, overriding the frowns of the two guarding Ones who were probably Fink’s offsiders. She went over to where a figure was hunched miserably against a wall. At her approach, the One, presumably the prisoner Mirnaxillum, glanced up. I’d never seen such a look of despair and hopeless misery.

  “Mirnaxillum?” Thorn enquired.

  “Who wants to know?” came the despondent reply.

  Thorn knelt beside the woebegone figure. “Someone who wants to ask you some questions about what happened,” she replied, gently. Mirnaxillum shrugged. In my mind, I shortened his name to ‘Max’, just for my own convenience.

  “What’s to know?” Max said, gloomily. “She was there. I killed her. End of story.”

  I sat on the other side of Max and looked at him closely. His fingers were in constant motion, weaving around each other and tapping on his leg. He was certainly agitated, in complete disparity with the sunken rejection of his manner.

  “But why?” I asked. “Why did you do it?”

  Max shrugged again. “Why not?” he announced. “I just did.”

  “But you must have had a reason,” I insisted.

  “Well, I didn’t!” he said, angrily. “Why don’t you leave me alone? Just go away, why don’t you? I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” I glanced at Thorn and nodded my head. We stood up and walked across the room, under the undisguised glares of Max’s captors.

  Thorn and I were silent until we were well away from the ‘jail’. Thorn spoke first. “Well,” she began, “what did you make of that? To me, it seemed fairly straightforward, but I know enough about you to think that perhaps you saw it differently.”

  “Maybe,” I answered, thoughtfully. “Did you notice that Max wouldn’t give us a reason?”

  “Max?” Thorn asked.

  “The prisoner,” I informed her, offhandedly. “Your names are too much for me. My tongue twists itself in knots trying to get the pronunciation right. Anyway, it was as if he didn’t even know the reason.”

  “What does it matter?” Thorn demanded. “He admitted he killed her. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Not by a long way,” I announced. “If he had a reason, surely he would have told us. Most rational beings want to justify themselves by explaining why they did it.”

  “Maybe Mirnaxillum isn’t rational,” Thorn said.

  “I think he was,” I disagreed. “He wasn’t raving or out of control. He seemed perfectly logical. He just didn’t want to talk to us about it. And I think that’s because he knew he didn’t have a reason to give us.”

  “But where is all this leading to?” Thorn exclaimed, exasperated.

  “I’m not too sure yet,” I replied, dubiously. “If Max can’t tell us the reason for killing that girl, then maybe it’s because he didn’t kill her at all.”

  “I really can’t follow your logic on this,” Thorn admitted. “Maybe it’s because of who I am. To me, if a One says something, then it’s a fact.”

  “I know,” I said, smiling understandingly. “The One are honorable and without deceit. You can’t lie to save yourselves. So unlike humans.” A sudden thought struck me. “Therefore, if Max is telling a lie, then there must be some overwhelming reason forcing him to go against his social imprinting. It’d have to be something sufficiently powerful to overcome his scruples.” I turned eagerly to Thorn. “What do the Ones value the most?”

  “We value the Ones,” Thorn replied, confused. “Family too, I suppose.”

  “Family, eh?” I mused. “Has Max any brothers or sisters?”

  “I have no idea,” Thorn replied, still lost. “We can easily find out, if that’s what you want. What are you thinking?”

  “What would compel a One to tell a lie?” I mused. “And not just an ordinary lie either. What lever would be needed to force an unbelievable, humongous, unthinkable untruth of the first order? It would have to be something absolutely horrendous, wouldn’t it?”

  “I suppose so,” Thorn agreed. “Stephen, for heaven’s sake, where are you going with all of this? I don’t understand.”

  I took a deep breath. “Let me lay out a possible theory for you, Thorn,” I said. “It may not be true. In fact, I hope it isn’t, but it’s something to consider. Okay, here it is. A One is killed. The murderer, naturally enough, doesn’t wish to be caught. So, what does he do? He kidnaps a brother or sister, or some other family member, of someone he knows, and threatens to kill said family member if the One doesn’t confess to the murder. Would the chosen One lie to protect his sibling or parent? Even to the point of confessing to a killing he didn’t commit?”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Thorn exclaimed in horror. “Who would do such a thing? It defies all logic.”

  “This person has already committed a murder, remember,” I informed Thorn. “Bear in mind that whoever it is has no moral character whatsoever and is capable of anything. The whole theory hinges on whether Max has family, and whether any of them are missing or not.”

  “I think you’re crazy,” Thorn objected, half angrily, “but if that’s what you want, then we’d better check it out. We’ll go to the library. They have records of all births and addresses. We can find out where Mirnaxillum was living from there. It’ll tell us about his family as well.”

  “Let’s go, then,” I suggested. “I hope I’m wrong about this, but I’ve got a nasty feeling that this killing is just the tip of the iceberg.”

  Chapter 6

  Thorn led me to the library and from there to the Book of Records where we found Max’s address. We also found out that both his parents were deceased, and that indeed, Max had a sister, Cathlionum. Armed with this information, we set out for Max’s house. We arrived at the appointed address and Thorn politely knocked at the door, to no avail. As if in answer to our knocking, a next-door neighbour popped her head over the fence and informed us that no one was home.

  “Did you hear about Mirnaxillum?” she asked breathlessly, proving that gossip was alive and well, even here. “They say he’s been arrested!” she carried on in a scandalised whisper. “Myself, I don’t believe it for a second. He’s always been such a nice boy. Friendly to everyone and not an enemy in the world. It has to be some sort of a horrible mistake. Mirnaxillum wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “That’s what we’re looking into right now,” I advised her. “Do you know where his sister is? We want to talk to her.”

  The next-door neighbour scratched her h
ead. “Well, that’s the thing,” she informed us, perplexed. “I haven’t seen her for a couple of days. It’s strange, because we usually have morning tea and a chat every day. I can’t imagine where she’s gone.”

  “Thanks for that,” I told her. “We’ll see if we can find her. Does she have anywhere special she normally goes to when she’s not here?”

  “She talks a lot about the Rocky Cavern,” I was informed. “I think a group of her friends used to meet there all the time.” This statement was punctuated with a disapproving sniff. “These young things today! Who knows what they get up to when there’s no adults around.”

  “Thank you again,” I said. “We’ll let you know if we find anything.”

  “Do that,” she said. “I’m starting to worry about her.”

  “Where’s this Rocky Cavern?” I asked Thorn as we walked away.

  “It’s a cave,” she said. “It’s quite popular with the younger set as a ‘getaway-from-your-parents’ meeting spot. I used to go there myself a bit in my younger days.”

  “As opposed to now,” I gently kidded, “when you’re old and creaky.”

  For a brief instant, Thorn’s face displayed an insulted demeanor, but then a smile broke through and she punched me lightly on the arm.

  “I know you’re making a joke,” she grinned. “It’s taken awhile, but I think I’m finally getting to understand your sense of humor, weird as it is.”

  “Thank heavens for that,” I sighed gratefully. “When we first met, you would have run me through before I’d even blinked.”

  Thorn coughed apologetically. “Yes,” she agreed. “I was somewhat, um …….. impulsive in those days. Hopefully, I’ve learned better since then.”