by H J Peterson
“What do you mean, dangerous?” Brooks asked. “I thought you cleared out the bomb.”
“No bomb,” the officer said. “It looks innocent enough, but… well, knowing the Archangel, you never really know.”
Just as the head officer said that, a third officer came up from the staircase leading to the orchestra pit. “The Alchemist says they’re clean, sir. You can take a look at them whenever you’re ready.”
Them?
“Well, come on, then,” the head officer said. “Maybe the two of you can make sense of what the hell this is.”
Hiro and Brooks looked over at each other, then followed him down the stairs to the orchestra pit.
The pit was dark at that point, the lights dim. The room was pretty cramped, with a few of the larger instruments already down there, namely drums and weird instruments with wooden bars and pipes beneath it. Along with it was a single barrel shoved in the corner, one that a man with the red epaulets of the Alchemist unit and a regular officer were standing by. Both of them looked rather confused; it seemed that they didn’t know what was going on, either.
“What’s in that barrel?” Brooks asked as they walked towards them.
“It’s just a bunch of… letters,” the officer said.
“They aren’t laced with anything dangerous, either,” the Alchemist said as they approached. Sure enough, the barrel was filled with hundreds of envelopes, haphazardly stacked. Each one had a name on it, names that she recognized: Mayor Daniel del Rio, Commissioner Emil Bouchard, Chief Eliezer Berkowitz; Hiro guessed that there was an envelope with the name of every person involved in the government in there. “Whatever their purpose is of it, it isn’t to kill us all when they open.”
The police officer handed Hiro what looked to be a note written in very neat handwriting. “This was on the top of the barrel, Inspector Ikeda.”
She took it and began to read it:
To whom it may concern:
If you are reading this letter, you have discovered my little rouse. Don’t worry: I’ve decided to give the city a moment to breathe before my grand finale. This barrel is my gift to you: my plans if this establishment–which has been a symbol of corruption and oppression since its conception–is not closed before opening night of its next opera. The information inside of these envelopes will be released to the press. Feel free to open them at your leisure; they are not laced with anything.
Regards,
The Archangel
Hiro handed it back and gave it back to the officer. “Have any of the letters been opened, yet?”
The officer shook his head. “No, ma’am. We thought that it would be best to wait until the two of you got here.”
“That was a good decision,” Brooks said. He held his hand out. “Let’s see what sort of information the Archangel has.”
The officer pulled two envelopes out from the inside pocket of his coat. The names on those envelopes were Inspector Brooks and Inspector Ikeda; it seemed that the Archangel had the two of them on his list, too.
“I figured that the two of you would want to see what sort of things he had on you before anything came out,” the officer said as the two of them took their individual envelopes.
Brooks said something else to the officer, but Hiro didn’t hear it: she was too focused on what was in that envelope. She opened it, gently breaking the seal, and looked inside.
The first thing she saw was a photograph, one that Hiro hadn’t seen in years. It was a photograph of herself, Ichirou, and Aki on her first day at the police academy. All three of them were all smiles as they stood in Hiro’s messy apartment, honoring the very special occasion. The second thing in there looked to be a newspaper clipping from one of those stupid gossip papers. The headline wasn’t something she wanted to see: LORD FRIEDRICH ELTZ: WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT HIS MYSTERY WOMAN. A quick scan of it told her that it was an article written awhile ago, long enough that it didn’t mention the police academy, at all. The third thing was a picture that she didn’t even know existed: it was a picture of her and Friedrich, having dinner at LeBlanc’s, one of the most expensive restaurants in Königstadt. She was wearing that green dress, he was in a suit that must have been picked out by Viktoria, judging by the fact that it seemed to fit; it was a night she remembered pretty well, seeing as it was the first night she began to realize that something was wrong. Seeing it–mainly how happy the two of them were–made her heart hurt a little.
“So, that’s what he’s doing, now,” Brooks said, looking at one of the things in his envelope. “He’s gone from bombs to good old-fashioned blackmail.”
Hiro put everything back into the envelope and looked up before she could look at the last thing in the envelope, refocused. This wasn’t good; the reputations of everyone he’d targeted could be ruined if they couldn’t stop him.
“What are we going to do?” Hiro asked. “We can’t let all this get out.”
“We’re going to get down to the Vorbereicher House and talk to the noblemen’s council before they make their decision,” Brooks said as he reached into his coat pocket. He looked panicked for a second, but then he relaxed.
“As soon as we get a cab.”
XXXVI. FRIEDRICH
Friedrich scribbled notes onto a piece of paper furiously, frantically trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say before he had to present. An emergency meeting of the King’s Council, which Lord Eltz was also apart of, had been called at the same time as the Noblemen’s Council, and due to the fact that Friedrich was now old enough to participate fully in the council, he was to sit in his stead. And as the temporary head of the noblemen’s council, Friedrich now had a responsibility to address the council at the beginning of the session, as well as run it.
And sweet heaven, did the very thought of that terrify him.
“You’re looking a little worried there, Lord Eltz,” Anton Coeman, one of the few noble friends Friedrich had, joked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you work this hard, before.”
“Yeah; you’re breaking a bit of a sweat over there,” Dries Joosten, his other friend, said. He pulled out his flask and took a swig. “If you aren’t careful, you might–heaven forbid–get some meat on those bones.”
“And if you aren’t careful, your liver’s going to explode,” Anton retorted. He looked over at Friedrich. “Seriously, though; do you need some help? You look like you’re on the verge of a heart attack.”
“I’ll be fine,” Friedrich said quickly as he continued to write. Heaven; he couldn’t even read his own damned handwriting at that point! “I-I just need to get this all written down before I get up there-“
Dries didn’t even let him finish his sentence. He ripped the paper out from under his pen and crumpled it up.
Friedrich froze and his eyes got really wide. “Dries, what the hell did you just do?”
“You don’t need a damned plan for this: plans are for idiots,” he said.
“Well, then, I guess I’m an idiot,” Friedrich said as he reached for the paper in Dries hands. He kept it away from him.
“Will you calm the hell down? It really isn’t that big of a deal,” Anton said. “All you have to do is get up there, thank everyone for showing up, say what’s on the agenda, and make sure that the conversation stays on topic. They could train a monkey to do this job.”
Friedrich took a deep breath and sighed, adjusting the front of his suit. “You’re right; I can do this. I-I just need to keep things simple; it’s not like people will remember this for the rest of my natural life.”
“Now, that’s the spirit!” Dries smacked him on the back, hard. “Now get up there and run this damned meeting like the Eltz you are.”
Friedrich nodded and stood up, adjusting his suit and smoothing out the front yet again. “How do I look? Does everything look alright?”
“Like your mother dressed you,” Anton said. “Now, hurry up; the meeting was supposed to start two minutes ago.”
Taking another deep b
reath, he hobbled up to the center of the audience chamber, then looked up at everyone in the room.
He froze. Everyone was looking at him, expectantly waiting for him to lead them. Or they were waiting for him to slip up, just like they usually did. Anton and Dries made motions with their hands, trying to be encouraging.
He took another deep breath, trying to get himself to relax a little before he spoke. Heaven help me!
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Friedrich said. “I ask you to please excuse the absence of Lord Dieter Eltz; as the King’s Council is also convening in order to discuss the same issues as us, he is off performing that duty. In his absence, I will be conducting the meeting.”
Friedrich paused, looking up at everyone. They were all watching him. Staring. Waiting for him to royally screw up so they could torture him about it for the rest of his life. And so the oh-so-wonderful Dieter Eltz would have another “reason” to be ashamed of him.
He forced himself to stand up a little taller, trying to lean a little less on his cane. He couldn’t let himself fail. Not this time. He was going to show his father that he could do this without being a pompous jerk like him.
Friedrich cleared his throat. “As we all know, gentlemen, this council has been called to an emergency meeting due to recent threats from the Archangel regarding the Überhaus. The emperor wants us–in tandem with the King’s Council–to decide whether or not the Überhaus will stay open for the upcoming show, Vincent of Martello.”
He motioned to the floor of the chamber. “The floor is yours, gentlemen. You have until noon to make your arguments. At that time, we will take a final vote, whether or not everybody has said what’s on their mind.”
With that, Friedrich took his seat at the front of the room, where the head of the council usually sat. It felt weird, sitting in that leather chair, watching as one of the council members stood up to address the council. He’d never thought he’d be sitting in this chair so soon; he thought he would at least be married with a kid or two by the time this happened.
Then again, he’d also never imagined that he’d be sitting in that chair until after Dieter Eltz had died.
The first person to stand was, of course, Friedrich’s grandfather: Lord Erwin Totefels. It didn’t surprise Friedrich in the least: Lord Totefels was the most opinionated man he’d ever known, and he seemed to die a little inside when people didn’t listen to those opinions.
“I think the choice is obvious, gentlemen,” he said. “We need to keep the Überhaus open. It‘s about time that we show a unified front against this threat, show those people out there that we aren’t about to bow to the whims of that mad man that calls himself the Archangel.”
“Of course, that’s what Lord Totefels believes,” Lord Dankopf snorted. So far, this meeting was going along like clockwork: Friedrich didn’t think there were two people that butted heads more than Lord Totefels and Lord Dankopf. If it weren’t for the fact that House Eltz had alliances with the two of them, they probably would’ve gone ahead and tried to kill each other. “Doesn’t House Totefels have quite the stake in the Überhaus? Last I checked, the man gets thirty percent of all the earnings from every showing. He’s just looking after his pocketbook, not after all of our safety.”
“And you’re different, somehow?” That was the son of the late Lord Saaltz and the new head of House Saaltz, Jakob Saaltz. Friedrich had heard rumors that the young man was much more vocal than his father, and they appeared to be accurate. “You doing the same thing you’ve always done: try and ruin other houses so your own house can rise. Seeing as your stocks are all in mining, that’s probably the only way you actually have of being more than a Viscount.”
Dankopf stood from his seat and looked over at Jakob Saaltz, murder in his eyes. “Watch your mouth, boy; just because you’re the head of your house doesn’t make you an equal.”
Friedrich quickly stood up, ignoring the sharp pain in his back. “Gentlemen, let’s get back on topic.”
Everyone looked at him like he had something crawling out of his ear. He supposed that they all had a reason for it: normally, Lord Eltz let them fight out some grudges, before they actually started talking about the issues at hand. However, Friedrich wasn’t his father: they had a job to do, and they were going to do it, grudges be damned.
“My lords, this quarrelling is exactly why the commoners hate us so much,” Friedrich continued. “They depend on us to make decisions that will severely affect their lives, and all they see is us bickering and arguing like children. It would be best not only for us, but the rest of the country, if we were to set aside our differences for awhile and come to a decision about this. If the commoners see us truly unified, we might be able to sway their opinion of us in the right direction.”
Nobody said anything for a few seconds. Once again, they all just looked at him funny, as if trying to decide whether or not he was serious. Finally, though, Lord Pasternak stood and looked around at the rest of the lords.
“He has a point, gentlemen,” he said. “If the commoners don’t think we can handle this, they’re going to side with the Archangel. Let’s pull ourselves together and show that we can make big decisions like this with a united front.”
Well, that was a bit of a surprise, to say the least. House Eltz and House Pasternak weren’t exactly friends; the only sort of relation they had was through House Saaltz, and even that small relation could get a little strained at times. Friedrich never thought he would see the day where Lord Pasternak actually agreed with something someone from House Eltz said.
A few other lords nodded their agreement.
Friedrich stood a little taller. He couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself: Eltz had never been able to get the nobles to agree with something like this.
Before anything could be said about it, the door to the chamber opened and two people Friedrich hadn’t expected to see walked through the door: Brooks and Ikeda.
Friedrich found himself staring at the two of them made their way to the center of the room. Especially Hiro. She had to walk with the assistance of a cane, which he could only assume was the result of what had happened between herself and the Archangel.
“Inspectors, this interruption is a little… unusual,” Friedrich said as they came in. “Is there a reason why the two of you haven’t gone through the usual channels?”
“I’m sorry, Lord Eltz,” Brooks said. “I’m afraid that this is a bit of an emergency: we couldn’t wait for approval.”
An emergency? Normally, Friedrich might have just dismissed it (according to his father’s grumblings, people were quick to call things emergencies to get things done faster,) but… well, he decided the second he saw the look on Hiro’s face–that urgent, fight-or-flight look–he knew that this was very serious. She wasn’t one to get panicked easily.
“What sort of emergency?” Friedrich asked. “What happened?”
“What I’m about to say does not leave this room under any circumstance,” Brooks said. He held up what looked to be an… envelope. One that was addressed to himself. “The Archangel has given us a new ultimatum: if the Überhaus isn’t closed by their next opening night, private information on any men in high standing–including every man in this room–will be released to the press.”
Friedrich’s hands clenched into fists. He didn’t really like the sound of that, especially with his… history with Hiro. Only heaven knew what this sort of thing could do to House Eltz, especially if what Brooks said was true and they had something on every major nobleman in the city; with the way Lord Eltz was, he could only imagine what sort of information they had on him. House Eltz could be ruined, depending on what it was.
Brooks handed him a letter, one that was, horrifyingly enough, addressed to him.
“We have been authorized to give you the information the Archangel has on each of you,” Hiro said as another officer came into the room, holding a sack that looked to be filled with even more letters. He began walking t
hrough the ranks of the lords, handing them out. “Our superiors think that knowing what sort of things the public might get to know about all of you should his plan succeed might help you in your decision.”
Friedrich couldn’t wait any longer. He finally opened the envelope and looked at what was inside, nervous about what he was going to find.
Of course, the first thing he saw was something about his relationship with Hiro. It was a photograph of them eating at an exclusive restaurant, talking and laughing with one another. The next was a newspaper clipping, one with the headline all in bold: LORD FRIEDRICH ELTZ: WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT HIS MYSTERY WOMAN. It was definitely from one of those stupid gossip columns, but the fact that it existed wasn’t good for his image: it could destroy what credibility he had, and it could ruin Hiro’s career. He didn’t want to risk either of those things happening.
Friedrich put the clipping back into the envelope and looked back up at the nobleman’s council. Those that had opened their envelopes looked mortified. It seemed that whatever they had in theirs were much, much worse than Friedrich’s little fling with Hiro.
One of the men stood up, putting his envelope into the inside pocket of his suit. Friedrich was pretty sure that it was Lord Holst, but he wasn’t very sure: every male member of that house looked the same to him.
“Gentlemen, I think the course of action we need to follow is very clear,” he said. “We need to shut down the Überhaus, or have all of our reputations ruined. We’ll be finished if all this gets out, and only heaven knows what sort of things they have on others in our government.”
A few nodded their agreement, except for one person: Lord Totefels.
“Absolutely not,” he said. “We can’t just grovel at the feet of this lunatic, no matter what sort of dirt he has on us; we stay together, show the masses that we won’t let people like this terrorist push us around.”
He shoved the letter into his own coat. “You know what? I’m going to tell you about what they have on me, because unlike some of us, I’m not afraid of tarnishing my good name.”