Three Charms for Murder (The Case Files of Henri Davenforth Book 5)

by Honor Raconteur

  “First, you said there was no sign of forced entry. Was the ward around the estate intact?”

  “Perfectly so. The real estate agent had access and the ability to bring in guests, hence why she was able to enter, but the ward is still up.”

  Interesting. I filed that away. “Second, you said they were held up with magical restraints? What type?”

  Irvine shook his head miserably. “I don’t know. No one was allowed to get a good look aside from the police. And they won’t divulge any details.”

  Jamie resumed tapping her pencil. “But magic was still used. Henri, it might be enough.”

  I agreed. I put a hand on Irvine’s shoulder and assured him, “I will do all I can. If possible, Jamie and I will take this case ourselves. Right now, give me a few minutes to speak to our captain. He can put in the proper paperwork to get us transferred onto the case and speed matters along. Right now, time is not on our side.”

  Irvine nodded jerkily.

  My heart hurt for my friend. I didn’t want to leave him out here, sitting alone, and I cast Jamie a questioning look. Even as I did so, I knew I would have to break this news to my parents, who would take it very hard. They adored the Atwoods. I was not looking forward to the conversation.

  Jamie had already stood, ready to make the case with me, but at my look she handed Clint to Irvine. “Irvine, this is Clint. He’s a magical familiar and field cat who works with us. Clint, you tell him how you’d investigate the estate and determine if someone else was there, okay? That way he knows what we’ll do when we get there.”

  Clint gave his owner a serious nod before turning and looking up at Irvine. Irvine didn’t seem to know what to do with this purple, furry beast suddenly in his arms, but that was precisely the distraction my friend needed right now.

  We beelined straight for Gregson’s door. I gave the wood a quick knock before sticking my head inside. “Captain, we need a moment.”

  Gregson looked up. He’d taken off his suit coat at some point and rolled up his sleeves, hair standing on end in a lopsided manner. Frankly, he looked two minutes from raiding the alcohol stashed in his drawer. One of those days, eh?

  “When the two of you barge in together like this,” he greeted, voice rougher than usual, “it only spells headaches for me. Alright. What’s blown up this time?”

  Jamie stepped around me, waiting until I had closed the door to answer the question. “Not blown up. A murder. Two, to be precise.”

  “Luther and Mariel Atwood were found dead in their country estate yesterday,” I relayed concisely. “Foul play was certainly involved. Both of them were found tied to chairs with magical restraints.”

  Gregson studied me carefully. “It’s certainly terrible news, but when you say country estate, where do you mean?”

  “The estate is in Deems, I believe.”

  “Then why aren’t the Deems Police handling this?”

  “Oh, they handled it,” Jamie assured him dryly. “Poorly. Irvine Atwood came to see Henri, they botched it so badly. They’re telling the family they’ve ruled this a murder-suicide, case closed. Before an autopsy could be performed, mind you.”

  Gregson winced, shoulders hunching under the force of the emotion. “Deities above. Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “I wish I were.” I ran a hand over my face. “Gregson, do I need to spell this out for you?”

  He shook his head immediately. “No. Two people in elite society, murdered in their own home, and the police on case are sweeping this under the rug instead of properly investigating? It’s a political nightmare given form. We’re not even involved, and I can already feel the backlash heading my direction. Deities, moments like this I wish I could drink on duty.”

  “I sympathize.” I did, but I also had an agenda. “Let’s head this off, Gregson. Magic is involved—that means I can go. Jamie can go. If we take Weber with us, we’ll have a good coroner to review the bodies.”

  Gregson rubbed his hands through his salt and peppered hair, clearly thinking hard. “I can certainly make a case that this needs outside investigation, as they’ve bungled procedure. Several procedures. And with it being the two of you, I can also say we’re superseding authority by special request and having Kingsmen Consultants sent in. That should dot a lot of i’s and cross a few t’s. Frankly, the Atwoods can afford a team of private investigators. Why you, Davenforth?”

  “I know the family.” I spread my hands in a shrug. “Irvine Atwood and I were childhood playmates. Our parents are close friends.”

  “So he thought of you first. Thank deities for that. Always better than getting private investigators involved. Less of a black eye for us.” Gregson stood and unrolled his sleeves, preparing to put his suit coat back on. “I’ll speak with Irvine Atwood myself. Get more particulars before I go make our case to the police commissioner about assigning the two of you. I think once he hears all this, he’ll jump at the chance to avoid trouble and send you in.”

  I fully expected that to be the case. “We’ll wrap up the last of the paperwork then go home early and pack. Deems is a good six-hour trip by train out of Kingston. I don’t expect we’ll be traveling back and forth.”

  Gregson nodded understanding even as he slipped his coat back on. “Don’t even try to commute. Get over there and figure this out. Go give Weber a heads-up while I speak with Atwood.”

  I was glad to do so. It was never nice to spring surprises on a colleague. And if we were drawing Weber away from his work here, he would need as much time as possible to prepare.

  Jamie cleared her throat to draw his attention. “I want to take Gerring, too.”

  Gregson paused to give her a look. He seemed to see something in her expression I did not, as he simply nodded. “Gerring. And McSparrin.”

  She smiled at him, briefly lighting up. “You’re the best boss ever.”

  “I do like my detectives to be competent, you know.” With that deadpan delivery, he left the office in a quick stride.

  I had the distinct impression I had come in on Act II of some play. “What was that about?”

  In a low tone, she said, “Gerring’s made a case for being promoted, but he doesn’t know enough to make detective. I’ve officially requested the right to mentor him, and Gregson just granted it.”

  “Ahh. And McSparrin?”

  “Penny’s having a different sort of trouble. Because she’s a new female detective, not everyone takes her seriously. But if she works a high-profile case like this, she’ll make more of a name for herself.”

  “And her reputation will precede her.” It made sense. And I was frankly glad to have both of them accompany us. Penny McSparrin had proven both intelligent and amiable and was a pleasure to work with. Gerring was much the same. All this did beg a question, though. “What about the kitten?”

  Jamie made a face. “I just thought the same thing. You read minds now?”

  “Only yours.” I laughed softly when she stuck her tongue out at me. “It might be a bit cumbersome to bring a kitten along, but it’s not the same as bringing a pet.”

  “No, the Felix is more intelligent than an average cat, to start with. And Clint can keep an eye on the baby.” Jamie pursed her lips, clearly thinking this through. “And frankly, there’s always a case going on. So, waiting for a calm spell is like waiting for an eclipse. Possible, but not likely to happen anytime soon. I suppose I’ll update Jules on the situation and say I’ll try to swing by earlier to get the new Felix.”

  “Likely the best plan.” I had to agree with her logic on this one. And I’d be on hand to help with it as well.

  I separated from her and entered the morgue but didn’t see anyone actively performing an autopsy. Hoping Weber wasn’t out on a case, I tried the man’s office further down the hall. Thankfully, he was there, typing out a report on a noisy typewriter at his desk. “There you are, Weber.”

  He looked up, blinking at me from behind his glasses. With his suit coat off and his sleeves rolled up, I
assumed he’d just finished an autopsy and was typing up the report while it was all fresh in his head. A slight sheen of sweat dotted his mahogany skin at the temples, indicating he’d been wrapped up in a protective suit. Those suits could get beastly hot.

  “Davenforth,” he greeted cordially enough, although suspicion lingered in his eyes and his hands froze above the keys. “Emergency?”

  “Trouble,” I corrected him with a sigh, leaning my weight against the doorframe. “A friend of mine’s parents were found deceased in a very odd fashion. The police on scene bungled the investigation so badly that he’s come to me for help.”

  “Oh, deities preserve us,” Weber groaned, flopping back in his chair, causing it to squeak in protest. “Where?”

  “Deems. Sorry, old chap, do you mind terribly? We don’t have jurisdiction just yet, but I have faith we will. I can’t think of anyone I trust more to come and do the autopsy.”

  “An autopsy likely to be bungled as well?” Weber asked in a knowing manner. “Yes, that does sound like quite the headache. You’ll definitely owe me a favor for this—”

  I nodded agreement, as I’d expected such.

  “—but it’s fine. I’ll come.”

  “Thank you ever so much. I’ll give you the address once we’re officially set to go. But be prepared to leave out in the morning.”

  “I will,” he promised.

  Bless my colleagues. I gave him a thankful smile and took myself out again. McSparrin was in the newer building, near the morgue, so it was no wonder Jamie and I crossed paths as we reentered the main building.

  “Weber?” Jamie inquired as she fell into step with me.

  “Willing to go. McSparrin?”

  “Excited to go.”

  “Excellent.” At least someone had enthusiasm for this case. I was too heart-sore for it.

  We found Irvine much livelier than we had left him. At least, he no longer moved as if he had glass in his shoes. He turned to greet us as we approached, a semblance of a smile on his face. “I understand you’ll both go?”

  “We and three colleagues of ours,” I corrected him. Belatedly, I realized Irvine didn’t live in Kingston and had likely made a special trip here. It also meant he would be stuck in a hotel for the night, which seemed cruel under the circumstances. I made a snap decision. “Captain, I’d like to take Irvine to my parents’ house to await news. He’ll rest easier there.”

  “Yes, of course,” Gregson encouraged. “I’ll report to you there. Excuse me, I’m going to hunt down the police commissioner and get an override processed.”

  As Gregson departed, Irvine gave me a grateful nod. “Thank you. I’d not made any plans regarding that.”

  “Think nothing of it. Let me gather a few things so I can finish work while waiting for you.” And notify my mother. She’d hopefully have the pad nearby and would hear my message. Otherwise, I’d default to trying to ring her up.

  I heard Irvine ask Jamie a few questions regarding Clint as I departed for my own lab. I wrote a quick message to my mother telling her Irvine Atwood would be her guest for the night, and that we were coming in a few minutes with grave news. I didn’t know what else to say without divulging it all, and breaking such terrible news in this way felt wrong somehow.

  Catching up on my paperwork, I took a moment and stuck my head inside Colette’s lab next door. She was bent over a knife, wand at the ready, but looked up as I stepped around her door.

  “Henri, something wrong?”

  “Yes, unfortunately. I don’t have time to give the particulars, but it looks as if Jamie and I will be going out to Deems on a case. Cover for me?”

  “Yes, of course.” She put the wand down, her dark eyes narrowed in concern. “Is this serious?”

  “The word doesn’t do it justice.” Shaking my head, I told her, “We’ll talk later. Thanks.”

  As I speed-walked the halls, I came across Gerring and hailed him. “Gerring!”

  The Svartálfar turned at his name, going still. He was on some errand of his own, files tucked in one arm. Gerring was one of the few dark elves to join the police. Frankly, it was a shame, as his heightened senses and stamina made for an excellent policeman. That, coupled with his intelligence, made for good detective quality and one of the reasons why Jamie was so keen to see him make the rank.

  “Sir,” he greeted, brows lifted in curiosity. “Problem?”

  “Very much so. We don’t have a lot of time, so let me give you the gist for now. You know of Atwood, Ltd?”

  “Yes, sir, I think everyone in the country does. Why?”

  “The head of the company and his wife were found murdered yesterday afternoon.” I gave him a grim nod as he hissed in a breath. “And, worse, the Deems Precinct has botched the investigation so badly that their son, a friend of mine, came to me to beg for my help. Gregson is on his way to the police commissioner to transfer jurisdiction of the case to us.”

  Gerring shook his head in disbelief. “You’d think considering the victims, they’d be very careful in how they investigated.”

  “Unfortunately, quite the opposite. But it means Jamie and I are likely going. We’ve received permission to take you and McSparrin as well.”

  Gerring lit up. “You mean it, sir?”

  “I do indeed. But it means going home, packing a bag, and being ready to leave early in the morning.”

  “That I can do, sir.” Gerring practically vibrated with the need to do precisely that.

  “Good. Find McSparrin too, if you can. I need to settle matters from the last case and see Irvine to my parents’ home. You can find me there if you have any questions.”

  Gerring didn’t quite salute, but his body language gave that impression. “I’ll look for her first, sir.”

  “Good man.” I moved past him. Hopefully Gregson was correct in his assumption we’d all go. If not, I was perfectly willing to go over the police commissioner’s head. Though I didn’t use them often, I did have connections. If he refused to see reason, he’d soon find out just what a Davenforth was capable of.

  Have you ever seen a cat vibrate out of their own skin? Neither have I, but I figured if I gave Clint another five to ten seconds, that’s exactly what would happen. My feline familiar was so happy about kittens he almost keeled over from joy before we even properly got into Jules’ house.

  We’d been ushered into Jules’ very well-appointed sitting room with its white-toned furniture and overstuffed cushions. He’d separated the kittens in this room so we could see them without the interference of the other Felixes in the house.

  Now Clint sat in the middle of the floor with both kittens curiously touching noses with him, purring loud enough to be mistaken for a car motor, practically luminous with joy. Until this moment, I had no idea how much it meant to him to have the company of his own kind. I should have. Considering how alone I sometimes felt—the only Earthling on this planet—it should have been obvious to me. But it wasn’t. Had I assumed Clint was fine because he wasn’t the only one of his kind?

  A silly assumption on my part, if that’s what it was. Other Felixes might exist, but until Jules and I became friends, it wasn’t like Clint saw them. And the other Felixes didn’t seem very attached to Clint, either.

  But the kittens were clearly entranced, just as excited as Clint to meet.

  I sat on the couch next to Jules and watched this play out with amusement. “I see that you went for more earth tones this time.”

  “Yes, so I did. I thought it best to start with solid colors. The mixed ones you spoke of were a bit too challenging, considering all the other modifications I made.” He gestured to the smaller of the two. “She’s pure black aside from her toe pads, which are pink. Her brother, as you can see, I used a bit of variation with.”

  I did indeed. The male was mostly black but with white on his chest and the tips of his front paws. The very tip of his chin was white as well. “You mimicked the tuxedo pattern perfectly.”

  “Did I?” Jules tu
rned and regarded the kitten in a new light. “I certainly tried. The name was too charming, and of course the look of a tuxedo in their fur tickled my fancy.”

  “I’ve always liked the look. They’re both beautiful, Jules.”

  “How is the length of their tails?” he asked anxiously.

  “Little hard for me to judge with them sitting like that, but they look right.” I left the couch and carefully approached. I wasn’t sure how much intelligence the kittens had right now, if they would be able to converse with me. They hadn’t spoken a word, entirely focused on Clint and not much else. Jules said he’d used the same creation procedure with them as he had Clint, and Clint had come out with all the information he’d need to know. But they were kittens, too. I wasn’t sure where they were in that intellectual developmental process.

  As I approached, the female turned her head to study me. I sank to one knee next to her and offered a hand so she could get my scent. “Hello, beautiful one.”

  Unfurling a little from her crouched position, she sniffed me curiously, golden eyes intent. Even in kitten form, her fur was incredibly sleek. “Hello.”

  There was that voice. High and childish, which was no surprise. “Do you mind if I pet you?”

  “What is pet?”

  “Pets are lovely,” Clint assured her, moving closer to me. “Pets feel good.”

  I stroked his back in illustration, then gave him a scratch behind the ear. He leaned into the touch, eyes closing as he purred happily. “Like that. Those are pets.”

  She thought about it, then stood and bumped her head into my hand. I stroked her soft fur with gentle fingers. On the third pass, she purred, a subtle sound that vibrated my hand more than I heard it.

  With her standing like this, I could judge her tail better and saw that it just touched the floor and seemed more or less the right length. I gave Jules a reassuring nod and he relaxed with a huff of relief.

  Proving that she was paying attention, she asked me, “Tail is right?”

  “Tail is perfect.” And you’re going to be dangerous as an adult, I thought to myself. So very observant of the world around you.