“Nebula Dreddock wasn’t just any old woman,” David pointed out.
“Si, that she was not,” Venetia admitted, his temper still burning bright. “She was far, far worse, thinking that just because she had managed to avoid looking like the ugly strega she is — or, was — she was somehow better than anyone. We had a fight where she proclaimed that she’d still be young and beautiful while I would be a fat, tired old man with nothing to show for himself.”
“Sounds like that could have stung enough to make you kill her,” David suggested.
Venetia shook his head. “There is no profit margin in murder. Besides, taking that necklace would have hurt her worse. She adored it. Made her feel like Royalty. Antique jewelry artifacts are all the rage among the more discerning A-listers right now. While she stormed up to her room, I slipped it out of its case before leaving. I knew she wanted to wear it for her interview on the “Isles Tonight” show. The interviewer was none other than the mud-roller, Millicent Pond, so Nebula wanted to appear ‘earthy.' Ha! Then I went to the Fingernail Inn to drink.”
“Wait a minute, Millicent Pond was interviewing Nebula? I don’t understand. Why would the Coven Isles most prestigious greeny-do-gooder be interviewing Nebula?” I asked. Millicent Pond was a famous Earth Activist. She came from the mainland, but she was a competent witch, and she made the Coven Isles — Cathedral Isle in particular — her home.
“Nebula donated a handsome sum to the Black Diamond Cathedral Fund.” Venetia uttered blandly. “Ms. Pond is at the forefront of the activism there; she’s been gaining widespread support for trying to stop the mining on Cathedral. The scooping out of the black diamonds is apparently compromising the integrity of The Cathedral.” We both looked at him with blank stares. He rolled his eyes. “The mining of the black diamonds on Cathedral Isle is thinning the mantle on the island. The Black Diamond Cathedral has been shifting and shaking at alarming rates this past year or so because of it. Do you guys watch the news? Hello?”
Oh, yeah, I did read something about that.
David cleared his throat.
“Don’t you have a tab that you need to pay off at The Moon?” David asked.
“Mangler never objects to drinks being paid on the spot,” Venetia sneered. “I took some money too when I grabbed the amulet, not enough to settle the tab but enough to get drunk on right then and there. I was sleeping until noon the next day upstairs in Horace's crash-pad after that particular round of drinks.”
“And that’s the story I’m going to hear from Horace?” David asked, not sounding like he believed it.
Venetia gave a mirthless chuckle. “You may not trust his memory, but you can always trust his accounts. He’ll have noted down my drinks, and it was he who saw me to the upstairs sleep chamber.”
As he said that, Onyx said, “He’s telling the truth, I’m afraid.”
I knew that myself. Another suspect had just gone up in flames.
Chapter 13
The rest of my day was spent making deliveries for the shop. But my mind was somewhere else the entire time. I got so distracted that I nearly took an order to Pandora Isle before realizing that I needed to be heading toward Phlange Isle, which was clear on the other side of Glessie. But, the gears turning in my head wouldn’t stop.
I tried in vain to spend the last couple of hours working on a supply order for our depleted herbs. I didn’t even get to the halfway mark of the first page. All I could think about was the case and what I might have been missing.
“Quit brooding, Hattie,” Millie said as she waltzed into back. “It’ll make you look as bad as you told me Cressida Dreddock looked if you keep that up.”
I shook my head. “Well, most of my hair is still where it should be,” I said playfully as I ran my fingers through my long tresses. “So, I’ve got a ways to go yet.”
“That’s something of a minor miracle,” Millie said, sitting down at the table with me. “Seriously, Hattie, what’s going on with the case that has you so upset?”
I hesitated. Millie was a friend, and I knew I could trust her discretion; she's our sentinel, remember? But, the last thing I needed was for her and/or me to get in trouble with David all because I needed a sounding board.
Millie must have sensed this because she said with a raised hand, “Swear to Bran the Blessed, nothing you say is going to leave this room.”
I exhaled and finally said, “My two most promising leads and suspects just went up in smoke and I’ve got no idea where to go from here.”
“Well, isn’t that’s CPI Trew’s job anyway?” Millie asked, shrugging casually. “I mean, you’re just the consultant, right?”
I pursed my lips a little. “Onyx pointed out that I’m the only reason David is making any headway right now. Makes me want to do more, but I don't see an angle here. I mean, for all I know, Nebula did just die from an accidental overdose; no foul play required.”
“But, what about what you saw in that Scrye spell?” Millie pointed out.
“I don’t know if what I saw was even real,” I said, exasperated that I had bothered to cast it in the first place. “Do you know how many years it’s been since I tried a new spell? For all I know, I was looking at the inside of Nebula’s head just before she bought it. ”
“Hey, simmer down, girlfriend. You know what you saw was real, or else the police Scrye wouldn't have shown the same.” Millie said, reaching a hand to my own.
“True, but maybe it was just some after-life guide that Nebula had in place already. I can see her setting up a guide in preparation for when she croaked” I explained with a half-smile.
“Yesss,” Millie said, drawing out her pronunciation of the word for emphasis. “But, again, we both know that the Scrye spell wouldn't show up a Death Navigator, Hattie. It can only show entities from the physical realm.” Death Navigator. The afterlife guides hadn't been called that particular name in years. It was seen as too grisly, so 'Afterlife Guides' was the preferred expression these days. I wondered where Millie picked up on all the Awakened knowledge she so often imparted.
That’s when Millie noticed what I had in my free hand. “What you got there?”
“Hm? Oh,” I said, just realizing that it had been in my hand for an hour or so now. “It was a slip of paper that Horace at the Moon gave me. I don't know what it says yet. It was found on the bar at the Moon the other night. It’s probably nothing, but, right now I don’t have anything better. Horace found it yesterday, but we checked off all the patrons of the Moon for that whole 24 hour period, and none were any of our suspects. So, the note could have been there for days, who knows?”
“Hey, that’s Ogham,” Millie said, getting a closer look at the paper. “Haven’t seen this kind of writing in years.”
“Did Grandma teach you that?” I asked, handing it over to her.
“Learned it on my own,” Millie said. “Though, yeah, your grandma did give me a few books to help out. Why, didn’t she teach you?”
“Sure,” I admitted. “It’s just…after my folks…died…”
Millie winced at where this conversation was going.
Deciding it was time to change the subject, I asked, “So who’s minding the front of the store right now?”
“Who do you think?” Millie asked. “The golem’s still up front, and she’ll tell us—“
“Hattie,” the golem said, walking into the room. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation.”
“Nothing that important,” I said, waving it off. “What is it?”
“There is a customer who specifically requested the owner for help,” the golem said. “His sources say that you come highly recommended.”
“What sources?” I asked with a slight frown.
“He did not say anything more,” the golem admitted.
I blew out a breath but secretly I was glad for the distraction from how I was spinning my wheels on this case. “I’ll see him.”
It was hard to tell who was more surprised by seeing the other: me
or Avery Flute. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of me behind the counter.
“Officer?” he asked. “This…this is your other job?”
“Yeah, umm, about that,” I said awkwardly. “I AM actually working with the police on Nebula’s case, but just as a consultant. I…”
Okay, okay, just be gracious, Hattie. Just play it as humbly as you can.
“I thought you’d talk to me more if you thought I was actual police,” I continued. “Please don’t turn me in for impersonating a police officer.”
To my surprise, Avery’s eyes relaxed, and he held back an amused chuckle. “Well…you didn’t actually say that you were a cop, right? I just assumed, and you went with it. It’d be a pretty shaky case if I tried to turn you in.”
Then he frowned again. I braced myself for the worst.
“Still…I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection between your name and the name of the owner of this shop,” he said, shaking his head.
A streak of black darted across the counter just then. No sooner had my eyes tracked the streak, it was running like lightning across the shop floor. I saw some catnip leaves flutter up in the air from the furry beasts slipstream.
“Dammit, Jet,” I muttered, grabbing the spare water bottle under the counter. “Would you give me a second, Avery?”
“Sure,” Avery said, stepping aside while I did my best to get a bead on my hyperactive, catnip fueled cat. As soon as he leaped to the top of a stack of shelves on my immediate right, I aimed and fired.
“Oh, come on!” Jet protested as he got zapped with the water. “Lady Clayface has been here all day, and I need to stretch my legs!”
“You know the rules, Jet,” I quipped in response. “And, you keep breaking them. So you get the requisite misting.”
Jet didn’t say anything else, just jumped down and ran up the stairs. Then ran back down the stairs. Then streaked back to the top again. And, on it went, while his catnip fix raged in his system.
“Cats never do seem to mind their manners, do they?” Avery asked with a bemused expression.
“That one especially is a bit of a problem child,” I admitted, putting the water bottle back under the counter. “Now, then…how I can help you today?”
Avery licked his lips in discomfort at my question. “I’ve…ever since Nebula died, I’ve been having a heavy case of insomnia. It’s a lifelong problem, you understand, but it’s gotten worse. Now I can’t sleep, and when I DO sleep, I have nightmares.”
“Sounds like Nebula never really did get out of your head,” I opined, while I favored him with a sympathetic look.
“Yeah, after everything,” Avery said with another mirthless chuckle. “I mean, I did break her heart first with Cressida, so you could say that I started all this.”
“Uh, uh,” I said with a firm tone. “Much as I take Grandma’s admonition to not speak ill of the dead to heart, I’ve got to say that how Nebula treated you was terrible. And, so ... publicly. Well, I think it's a classic case of the punishment exceeding the crime.”
Avery favored me with a weird frown for a second. Then he shook his head and said, “Just the same…I was hoping you had something that could help me get a good night’s rest.”
“Grandma did have a nice Sleepytime Tea that we could use,” I suggested, glancing at the clock. The day was once again very close to being over. Why did I feel like I had wasted every minute of it up until now?
“What kind of ingredients does it have?” Avery asked.
“Just standard stuff,” I said with a shrug. “Cinnamon, nutmeg—“
“Nutmeg’s going to be a problem,” Avery said, holding up a hand. “I’m allergic.”
Something about that last sentence touched a nerve in me. But, I couldn’t put my finger on why right then. Shaking my own head and shrugging, I said, “It’s hardly the only thing I have that could help with your lack of sleep…”
We spent the next few minutes going over alternatives, settling on an all-natural version of the Mainland’s Sleepytime blend of tea: Valerian root, chamomile, and lavender flowers. That out of the way, it occurred to me that now might be the time to press Avery for some more answers regarding Nebula's death. “Are you still on the clock yourself?” I asked with an innocence that belied my true intention.
“From now until midnight,” Avery confirmed. “I’ve got another hour-long song marathon going, which gave me the time I needed to come by.”
“But, the station is a pretty good walk from here,” I pointed out. “I doubt you could make it here and back again in an hour?” I added dubiously.
“Well, when you have one of these ..."
He pulled out a necklace that had a small oval silver and gold pendant hanging from the chain. The surface was silver and mirrored and the frame was an ornate gold leaf.
“That’s a Mirror Gate charm. And, a genuine one at that” I said, pointing at the little reflector. “Those are extremely hard to come by.” I didn't add that I also knew they were very illegal right now. Some, knock-off versions from the Mainland had been circulating the Coven Isles. It was found that, in a few models, the charm stopped working at some point between entry and exit portals. There were at least four lost souls trapped in some featureless plane between "here" and "there." As of this writing, they had still not figured out a way to rescue these wandering wretches, and, so they walked the Inbetwixt world still. Avery clearly didn't mean to showcase his gizmo; he seemed flustered and pocketed the hexed piece of jewelry almost immediately. I couldn't blame him. He'd be facing a minimum of three years hard labor in Steeltrap Penitentiary on Talisman if he was caught with the device.
“And, very, very handy to have when you do come by them,” he added, while not alluding to just how he did come by it.
"How does it work?" I pressed.
“As long as you have a reflective surface to wherever you are going and said reflective surface is still there when you need to get back, this thing acts better than a Mainland subway.” He continued.
“But, wouldn’t you need a mirror of some kind to start in the first place?” I asked, recalling his sound booth, that to my recollection, displayed no reflective surfaces.
“Sure,” Avery admitted. “That’s why I use the station’s bathroom. Add in the fact that Little Quasi—you know, my gargoyle charm that I mentioned to you last time—can let me know when it’s time to get back to the booth, and I can always run errands between songs.”
“So, you practice magic too?” I didn't yet tell him I already knew about him being pulled in for the naked chalice ritual.
Avery laughed ruefully at the idea. “Naw, I have this charm, and the gargoyle alarm I told you about, but that’s all. There's no spell maintenance to be done on these guys. They just keep going. I guess, whoever charmed them in the first place, did so with some superior magic. And, I've been trying to do magic for most of my life, but never can seem to get it right. Practice may make perfect but only if there’s something to perfect in the first place.”
“Yet, according to what I’ve heard, you keep trying,” I suggested.
Avery winced. “You’re not talking about that indecent exposure arrest, are you?”
Smooth, Hattie, I thought to myself. “All I’ve heard are vague rumors; nothing specific.” I tried again, hoping that I wouldn't make him defensive.
Taking a breath, I said, “Anyway, if you’re willing to wait a couple of days, I should have that insomnia treatment ready. Okay if I bring it by the station?”
“Sure,” Avery said, the relief showing through his tired smile. “I’m usually there. But, if I’m not, just leave it in the booth with your name on it. I’ll know what it is.”
After finishing up the sale and writing up the delivery order (one copy for me, another for him), we said our goodbyes and the golem unobtrusively locked the door behind him. This made me glance at the clock again…closing time.
“Right on the tick,” I said with admiration.
The golem
shrugged. “You have things that need to be taken care of. Closing on time will allow you to get to them faster.”
“True,” I admitted, grabbing the shop broom to sweep.
“I can take care of that, Hattie,” the golem said, stretching out a hand.
“How about you grab the spare broom under the counter and we both do it?” I suggested. “That way, we can finish this job up quick and get to our relaxation time.”
The golem nodded at my logic and went to grab the broom without another word.
Something I didn’t tell my temporary help was that I needed to do the sweeping so I could think. It was Avery's mention of being allergic to nutmeg that was stirring something in my head. But, since I couldn’t make that connection, no matter how hard I concentrated, I decided a little sweeping would help clear the mental cobwebs.
The connection — or, lack thereof —remained tantalizingly out of reach by the time we both finished. I could feel it, but it just refused to break the surface.
“Hattie,” the golem said, breaking into my thoughts. “As there is only one mop, would you like to do that as well or shall I?”
I was halfway tempted to tell her that I’d do it but I sensed that I wasn’t going to get any closer to what was on my mind by doing so. “No, you finish up here. I’ll check with Millie to see if she needs any help.” I gave the golem's shoulder a brief squeeze by way of thanks.
Millie was working away on my previously unfinished supply list when I came through to the back of the shop.
“Before you ask, I’ve got everything accounted for on the resupply,” she said, looking up at me from the chair. “If you want, I’ll send off for the depleted herbs when we—“
Murder, Magic, and Moggies Page 12