Valverna

by A Clarkson

  “That’s assuming John would know Jeffrey by sight.”

  “True. But would he let a total stranger into his lab in the middle of the night? Without his security?” Ira shook her head doubtfully. “No, I think John must have known our killer, and just didn’t think he was in danger.”

  “What if Jeffrey is being held captive and convinced John to open the door only for the murderer to sneak in after him?”

  She nodded her head consideringly, “Yes, I suppose that would work too. But how easy is it to sneak a hostage over those walls? That would need to be a pretty motivated captive.” She paused before asking, “Does Jeffrey have any family? Could the murderer be holding someone as leverage?”

  Magnus shook his head slowly, his lips pulled into his mouth. “None that we have found. It’s possible he does somewhere, but they’re well hidden if so. Which makes them an unlikely target for a hostage.”

  Ira nodded and looked around the greenhouse again. “I think we need to find out what he was working on. So far, that’s the only link to the lab.”

  Magnus nodded with a grim expression on his face, and turned to lead the way.

  Chapter 13

  The Idealist

  “What was he like?”

  Magnus and Ira found Gary in the stables untacking the horses. Sophie stood before him now, looking pleased with his attentions as he turned back to continue brushing her.

  “John was a good man. Better than most out here.”

  “Better in what way?” Magnus asked.

  “Don’t get me wrong, he was rich. Really rich. But he knew it wasn’t a fair world, and he did his part to make sure we were taken care of. He paid good wages, two to three times what some others around here pay. And he always made sure we had whatever we needed.”

  “But weren’t you all ultimately bound to this place?” Ira asked. Gary didn’t sound like a disgruntled employee, let alone an indentured servant finally freed from service.

  Gary shook his head. “Not at all. John bought out all of our contracts when he first moved here. We were all free to come and go, and he made sure we knew it. We all just wanted to stay.”

  Gary returned the brush to the wall, grabbing a pick before starting on Sophie’s hooves.

  “When Margie, one of the gardeners,” he clarified, “had some trouble after her daughter was born, John made sure she had the best care. Offered to cover her hospital stay. When Margie said she wanted to stay home, he covered the cost for a nurse to come by and do daily visits. He didn’t need to do that stuff,” Gary looked at Ira, shaking his head as if to stress that he and his staff had not expected this kind of kindness from their employer. “But it was like he felt guilty for being one of the lucky ones.”

  Ira nodded, understanding what he meant. Some people were born lucky, with all the wealth they could ever need. And some weren’t. She considered herself to be one of the few who broke free from the poverty of her youth. And Ira knew she had Bill to thank for that.

  "Did you notice anything different about his behaviour in the last few weeks? Anything out of the ordinary? Did he go anywhere? Have any guests?"

  “Nothing unusual. Chelsea was here on one of her regular visits only a few days before the attack,” Gary said. "But John was always going some place or another. It was why he kept such a large stable. Not that he used the horses for most of his trips. He would usually take one of the cars unless he was just heading into town."

  "He had a car? A working car?" Ira had never seen a working car before. Just the ones in the Valverna History Museum that had been dead for decades.

  Gary looked over at her with a grin, "Oh yes. Three." He chuckled at her slack faced shock. "I can show you them if you'd like".

  Ira was nodding like a fool before she had the chance to school herself back into cool professionalism.

  "Yes please. It will help the investigation."

  Gary snorted at her in amusement as he bent back to Sophie's leg, not believing her excuse for a second.

  A warm chuckle drew her attention to the hazel-eyed man at her side, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

  “And I assume you have seen a working car before?” She asked with a heavy dose of cynicism.

  Magnus leaned toward her, a look of pure smug satisfaction on his face as he whispered, “I have driven one.”

  Ira simply glared at him. The injustice! Gary chuckled again and led Sophie back into her stall and refilled her water bucket.

  Winking at Ira, Magnus brought them back to their discussion as they followed Gary back outside.

  “Do you know what John was working on?”

  Leaning down, Gary turned on a small tap where he rinsed off his hands and face. “John was an expert in plant-based technologies. He was usually working on half a dozen projects at once. The one that had him the most excited lately was some new medical innovation he was working on with Chelsea.“

  Ira handed him the towel hanging on a peg by the door. “Did you know anything about the lab he visited a few months ago in Caldessa?”

  “No. He was gone for a few weeks, which is longer than most of his trips, but nothing remarkable. The only reason I knew much about it at all was that he was so upset following the attack.”

  Gary nodded his thanks as he dried off. “He had known some of the researchers working up there for a long time, and their deaths hit him hard.”

  “Do you think he suspected that he would also be targeted?”

  Gary thought for a moment, before slowly shaking his head, “I don’t know. The explosions just seemed like such a freak accident. If he did know, he didn’t let on to me.”

  Ira was confused. “The explosion? What do you mean?”

  “At first everyone thought the attack was an explosion because the lab had been so thoroughly destroyed. It was only after a closer investigation that we understood that it hadn’t been an accident,” Magnus explained.

  “But he didn’t fill you in on what they were researching?” Ira confirmed.

  “He was always secretive with his work, even when he wasn’t researching something confidential. His study was his private space, and all the staff respected that.”

  “So it is unlikely he would have welcomed a guest into his study,” Magnus stated, to which Gary nodded solemnly.

  "Would he have opened the door if he thought a staff member was in danger?" Magnus continued persistently.

  Gary looked reluctant to answer, his eyes flicking between Ira and Magnus as though hoping for some indication they were joking.

  "I suppose," he looked down at his hands clenched before him, and then shook his head in resignation."Of course he would have. John cared for us as we did for him. He certainly would have rushed to help anyone."

  “We also wanted to ask you about a woman John may have known, did you ever hear of Maureen Peirce?” Ira asked.

  “Maureen? Of course! She and John were a thing for a bit,” he said with a wistful smile before noticing Magnus and Ira’s grim expressions.

  “Oh no. Marueen?” Gary looked up at them, a pained and furious expression across his face. "If you discover someone here helped the bastard who did this, I need to know."

  Magnus held his gaze for a few moments before nodding once.

  Ira waited a beat before turning to leave. She understood Gary's hurt and anger, and wanted to give the man the space he needed to grieve.

  “My wife Linda has insisted that you stay and dine with us this evening,” Gary called out, halting Ira's escape.

  “We don’t want to impose," she responded apologetically. "Besides, we have a long journey back to Valverna, and shouldn’t be letting it get too late before we leave.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous," shaking his head, Gary started back toward the main house. "There are many staff to interview, and as you said the journey back to the city is far.”

  “Come”, he turned to look back at them, still standing frozen outside the stables, “You can speak with the staff while we're cooking."
/>
  Giving Ira a sly wink in an effort to feign good humour he added, "Besides, I thought you wanted to see the cars."

  ***

  Magnus and Ira spent the next few hours speaking with the various compound staff. As expected the security from the night of John's death had seen nothing. No visitors entered the compound. Nobody even passed them on the road.

  Likewise the maids from the following morning offered little insight other than to give Ira a few vivid flashbacks to the bloody scene she found at the cottage. It had been bloody and traumatic, and they didn’t notice anything else.

  Ira now sat at a long banquet style table in a small hall. As it turned out, the main house had been established as more of a communal gathering space, with a kitchen, lounge and dining space large enough to comfortably accommodate sixteen people.

  Ira assumed John used this larger building as his private residence, however Gary informed her that John lived in one of the adjacent adobes, just like the remaining twenty compound residents. The only additional luxury the man had taken for himself was the study. This space was used as a shared family home of sorts, even sporting drawings done by some of the compound's younger children on the walls.

  “I still can’t believe he’s gone,” Chelsea said softly as she and Ira watched the residents laughing and playing together as they prepared the evening meal. There was a sense of loss and grief weighing on the group, moments of somber silence that would descend when someone said or did something that brought John’s absence into a sudden sharp relief, but overall the mood was one of happiness. Music was playing in the corner, while children ran about and played, and Ira could sense the love between these people.

  “What will his death mean for everyone here?”

  "Some will leave, others will stay and work for whoever takes over this place."

  “Someone else will buy the compound?”

  Chelsea nodded, “Yes. Usually these properties are passed between family members, but John had no living family to inherit the property, so it’ll likely go on the market.”

  Ira was hit with a renewed sense of grief. These people who found a sanctuary in the desert filled with monsters, would soon have the safety of John’s compound ripped from them. A wave of anger overtook her. How many victims would this murdered claim? How many more lives would he ruin?

  Chelsea bumped her shoulder, “Come on, save the plotting for later. You’re scaring the children with that grimace of yours.”

  Ira glanced over to see she was only partially joking, some of the kids moved a step in the other direction. She seemed to have that effect on kids these days.

  “How did you know him?”

  Chelsea smiled sadly. “We met eight years ago when I first started lobbying for the expansion of the fields. He was a firm believer in the project and sponsored a lot of the early meetings when we were just starting out.”

  Ira had no idea John had been involved in that movement. “Wasn’t he one of the field owners? I thought all of the original investors owned a portion of the fields.”

  “He was,” Chelsea nodded, “but he hated what the system became. He was a firm advocate for the nationalisation of the fields. We used to argue over it all the time.” She added with a sardonic smile. “John was an idealist. He imagined a world where everyone could be equal.”

  Ira didn’t understand, “Isn't that what you were pushing for as well?”

  Chelsea shook her head sadly, “No. I have no delusions about a future of equality. This world runs on money just like it always has, only now, power equals money. If the fields were nationalised the rybrum would be worthless. I wanted the fields opened up for more private investment, to break down the monopoly so that more of Valverna’s citizens would have a chance to benefit from the bounty of the crops. With a free market there would be more competition, which would allow for greater development of technology, and reduce the cost of rybrum for the consumer, but without disrupting the cost for the investors. We came to a compromise with the expansion project, but it wasn’t an ideal solution for either of us.”

  “It didn’t matter in the end anyway, the slugs moved in and everything stopped,” Ira said.

  “Yeah,” Chelsea grimaced, “not sure I would agree with that, but it is what it is.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She turned to face Ira, “The expansion didn’t have to stop because of the slugs. There is no reason the other fields need to remain barren. We could have planted the additional rybrum five years ago as planned, and all be wealthier now as a result. But the Merchant Guild did such a great job in making the city terrified of the slugs, that nobody wants to risk more moving in. If we had more fields, we would need more sluggers, that’s all. The amount of slugs the average citizen sees would be exactly the same, no matter how big the fields.”

  “So it was a lie?” She always believed that the expansion had halted to deal with the infestation.

  “Not exactly,” Chelsea shrugged. “It was more just good public relations. They managed to spook the public into no longer supporting the project by blowing the problem of the slugs way out of proportion. We went from having the support of over 80% of Valverna’s residents to only 30% in less than a week. There was no way we were going to be able to come back from that. No matter the facts.”

  The woman playing guitar in the corner switched to a slower tune, and Chelsea rose, “I think that’s my cue,” she said with a nod in Magnus’ direction.

  The General prowled in his cat-like manner toward them and Ira flicked Chelsea an anxious look. “He can be a bit intense.”

  Chelsea laughed, “He likes you. Enjoy that tushy while you can.”

  Ira couldn’t help but laugh. She wasn’t sure Magnus ever had someone comment on his tushy before.

  “I didn’t mean to impose by the way.” She added, “ before, at the barge.”

  Ira shook her head. “You didn’t. There isn’t anything going on between us.”

  Chelsea rolled her eyes, “Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that while I go get myself another drink and leave you to Mr. Dark and Handsome over there.”

  Ira was about to object when Magnus appeared before her and extended his hand. “Dance with me?”

  Ira looked at the offered hand in surprise, and a bit of apprehension, which must have shown on her face because Magnus only laughed and snatched her hand, pulling Ira to her feet before she could refuse.

  Chelsea returned Ira’s look over Magnus’ shoulder with a wink and a thumbs up before disappearing out of the room. Magnus dragged Ira further into the dancefloor that had been filled with bouncing kids only moments before, and looped an arm around her waist, settling his palm gently on the small of her back, his other hand warm and firm in hers.

  “I won’t bite,” he laughed again, more softly this time, a sound Ira found shockingly intimate. “It’s just a dance Ira.”

  She nodded awkwardly but relaxed slightly into his hold, placing her hand on his shoulder in the age old position of dancing partners.

  Magnus' hands were as rough and calloused as a farmer's, and yet he guided her around the room with a poise and grace of someone who danced with royalty - perhaps he had. She knew so little of this man who was both the mercenary soldier and courtier of royals. She could imagine him so easily dressed in the formal attire of the courts, even as he looked at home in his filthy travelling clothes.

  He held Ira in a way that felt both formal and private, her brain unable to convince herself that they were in a room crowded with others, when the intimacy of his touch made her body feel so sure that they were alone.

  Ira felt herself subconsciously lean into him, desperate to feel his heat on more of her skin than just the two places his hands so gently touched. It was this gentleness, this touch that was barely there and yet so overwhelming in its intensity and effect on Ira that had her body yearning for more. Yearning to feel him step beyond the delicate balance of propriety that he continued to tiptoe around.

&nbs
p; Magnus wasn’t what Ira expected. He was calm and relaxed, friendly to the compound’s various residents, and easygoing with his men. She could still see the giant cat lurking beneath his skin in the graceful way he moved, and the predatory glint in his eyes, but his smiles were frequent and easily coaxed, and the playful taunting and jokes made Ira smile.

  Ira realized she had been staring up into his eyes, and fought to hold back her blush at his slight smirk. She refused to drop her gaze or be bashful around him any longer. She had never blushed in her life, and yet this man’s knowing smile regularly seemed to cause her skin to flush.

  They made their way slowly around the room. Magnus’ movements were relaxed and easy, while Ira simply followed along, trying not to limp as she desperately avoided stepping on his toes.

  He leaned forward slightly and whispered with a sly smile, “I’m glad we’re staying the night.”

  Ira gave him a teasing smile in return, “Oh really? And why is that?” Was that a slight flirt in her voice? No. Definitely not. That would be a terrible idea.

  Magnus was only a few inches taller than her, and with them standing this close her senses were overwhelmed by him. He smelled like hot sand and leather, the brown skin on his face speckled lightly with freckles that were impossible to see at a distance.

  “Because now I don’t need to tie you to another bed to keep you off that knee.”

  He chuckled at her scowl, and smoothly swept his arm around her waist until he was standing beside her, before guiding her back to a seat.

  “You’ve been hiding it pretty well, but now I know how terrible your balance is, so we’re going to have another look at it.”

  “It’s fine,” Ira growled. This bloody knee.

  He smiled at her again, “Well then this should only take a second.”

  He kneeled in front of her and started unlacing her boot. Ira instinctively jerked back before grimacing at the stab of pain the movement sparked in her leg.

  “I can do it.”