Breaking and Entering 101

by Honor Raconteur

  She reluctantly nodded, sighing heavily. “Oh, very well. But don’t keep him long. I want this resolved.”

  “I absolutely promise we’ll solve it as quickly as we can.” I eyed her, evaluating. Regina looked like a woman at the end of her patience. She was sitting between two problems that irritated her, but she didn’t have the ability to solve them herself. I judged she would probably appreciate a problem she could solve, something that would give the satisfaction of helping, even in a sideways fashion. “Actually, Your Majesty, there is a way you can help. With the wards, I mean.”

  Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Do you have time to walk with us, talk to Henri?”

  “I do, as it happens. I’m out for a stroll. It was too stuffy inside the palace.” Her pointed look at Marshall indicated the source of all the stuffiness. Marshall gave her a sheepish grin in return.

  “Excellent.” I indicated the path toward the Royal Mages’ Building not far from us, and she fell into step beside me. “Here’s the gist. Henri’s overworked. Seriously, truly, overworked. Ever since his co-worker was fired, they’ve not been able to find a good replacement. And they were short on Magical Examiners even before Sanderson was fired.”

  Regina listened carefully. “How can I help with that?”

  “The thing is, there’s a particular woman Henri knows who he feels will be perfect for the position. She’s got the same training he does, and he’s very vocal about her intelligence. But she’s not allowed to apply for the position because she’s, well, female.”

  Regina stopped dead in her tracks. I could literally see her rage meter edge toward the red zone. “I made it quite clear two—no, almost three—years ago now that women were not to be barred from any position in the workforce. Any position. On what grounds is this woman being denied?”

  “The police commissioner took that command to mean he had to let women be officers and detectives, but in his words—I’m roughly paraphrasing—forensics is too emotionally difficult for a woman to handle.”

  The rage meter edged a little closer toward boiling point. “This is outrageous! The man can’t interpret my words as he likes. Alright, I understand why you’ve brought this up. I’ll straighten it out personally. Poor Dr. Davenforth, I didn’t realize how much work he was juggling.”

  “It’s part of the reason why I said something.” Internally, I was relieved I was able to sic her on this problem. For everyone’s sake, this was a good solution. “He’s basically worked sixty-hour weeks for the past month. It’s gotten worse since Sherard came to him for help. Not that he’s complaining, but I don’t see how he’s thinking straight when he’s so exhausted.”

  “And it’s all perfectly avoidable,” Regina fumed, stalking forward. “I’ll get the name of this candidate from him and appoint her myself. I won’t put up with this nonsense.”

  Oh dear. I might have put her on the warpath. Sorry, not sorry.

  Clint, perched on my shoulder, chose that moment to give us the appropriate soundtrack. “R-E-S-P-E-C-T ~ find out what it means to me ~ R-E-S-P-E-C-T ~ take care, yeah!”

  Queen Regina was at first startled, then her face lit up in a gamine grin and she held out a hand to him. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Without batting an eye, Clint hi-fived her, looking immensely smug.

  Who needed a radio? I had a Clint.

  We entered the building and went up. The Royal Mages’ Building was not like most standard office buildings. To start with, it looked very much like an ancient wizard tower plopped into the palace courtyard, with aging grey stone walls and elaborate stained glass in each window. It rose three levels, each floor belonging to a different mage. The floors connected via staircases, but since none of the Royal Mages liked each other much, they didn’t interact until absolutely necessary. Sherard, as the youngest and newly appointed of the three, had the top floor. I slung Clint down and into my arms to make it easier to climb the stairs. Otherwise he’d dig his claws into my shoulder. No thank you.

  It was never more obvious that Sherard liked red than when you came into his space. The walls were red, the carpet was red and gold, and generally if there was a surface available, it was red. It kinda looked like a brothel in search of patrons, but the look didn’t gel with the many, many books, scrolls, and the blackboard covered in magical theory. And by that, I mean the blackboard was turned to lay flat, nothing more than a projection surface for a cool, magical-hologram looking outline of numbers, symbols, and other things that went straight over my head. I’d have mistaken it for Dr. Strange’s lab if I hadn’t known better.

  A table sat squarely in the middle of the space—it was new, I’d not seen it before—with a whirlwind of papers scattered about the two extra chairs, carpet, and table surface. If this space was anything to judge by, the research for the project had definitely gotten out of hand.

  In fact, Sherard and Henri both looked rough. Red-rimmed eyes from lack of sleep, shirt sleeves rolled up, shirt hems untucked at the back, their black hair mussed and standing in all directions. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were on some binger of illegal narcotics, that’s how out of it they looked.

  Both men seated at the table looked up at our entrance, then scrambled to their feet to greet their monarch.

  Regina returned their bows with an acknowledging nod, then focused on Henri. “Dr. Davenforth. I understand a policy in place among my policemen prevents females from applying or holding certain positions in the forensic division.”

  That was obviously not a question. Henri blinked, mentally switching tracks before answering, “You’re correct, Your Majesty.”

  “Jamie’s read me into the situation.” Regina inclined her head toward me. “I’m quite miffed. I thought such restrictions lifted years ago, upon Our royal command.”

  Henri’s expression turned slightly evil as he heard that royal ‘our.’ “Indeed, Your Majesty, I’m equally irritated by the attitude. My female colleagues have proven quite capable in every area. I’m blessed to work with them. That I’m denied future working relationships because of a person’s gender vexes me sorely.”

  “Well said, sir. Well said indeed. Now that I’m aware of the problem, I will fix it immediately. I understand you are shorthanded at the precinct and are overworking yourself in order to heed Our call of distress. I wish to thank you for doing so without complaint. I will speak personally with your Police Commissioner—”

  Oh, to be a fly on the wall for THAT conversation.

  “—and deal with him appropriately.” There might have been chains and hooks and lye in the queen’s tone with that promise. “But I wish to aid you personally. I understand there is a woman you wish to put forth as a candidate for the open position of Magical Examiner?”

  “There is,” Henri agreed hopefully. “She’ll be stunning at it, I have no doubt.”

  “Give me her name,” the queen commanded regally. “I’ll appoint her myself.”

  That was far, far exceeding her authority into everyday matters, but would we tell her that? Not on your life.

  “Colette Harper.” Henri practically bounced with happiness, the widest smile on his face. “I believe she’s currently freelancing with the Kingston University as a laboratory assistant.”

  “And this woman has the same education as you?” Regina’s expression turned wrathful. “Shameful to waste that intellect. I’ll attend to this immediately. Gentlemen, Jamie, I will solve this problem. You solve mine.”

  “We’ll do our best,” I promised firmly.

  I watched the queen stalk out, a woman on a mission, and wondered at it. Just what had Jamie said? I had no doubt she’d couched the information to get a rise out of Queen Regina. She must have, to get that severe a reaction.

  Seaton seemed to have the same thought. He stared at Jamie suspiciously. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t actually have to say much.” Jamie grinned back at us, the naughty child who had succe
ssfully raided the cookie jar. “I told her how overworked Henri is. Why he’s overworked. That he’s probably not thinking straight because he’s so tired. Then I dropped in the fact that women aren’t allowed to hold positions in her police force, still. She’s already irritated because of the heightened security measures. She was happy to have something to direct her temper at, something she could immediately solve. It settles the feeling of frustration a little.”

  Seaton rounded the table and hugged her. “You devious woman. I love your mind. I am sorry I’ll miss the show, however.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Jamie assured him, still sporting that evil smile. “I did a quick test for you guys, and the wards rebuffed me immediately. I couldn’t climb over the wall.”

  I grimaced. “I expected that outcome. Thank you for trying.”

  “You’re welcome, but I didn’t come for just that. Henri, we’ve got a case.”

  “The gold theft off the train?” I hazarded. In fact, I’d heard something about it. The Kingsmen seemed to talk of nothing else but that and the dicey security the wards currently offered.

  Gibson gave me a nod of confirmation. “The very one. Sorry, I know you’re in up to your neck with work, but we could use another set of eyes on this one. We’re quite puzzled and without any leads. I thought Jamie would be a good one to pull in, and of course she refuses to go without you.”

  That pleased me enormously, not that I’d ever likely admit to such aloud. I loved working with my partner. It made my heart happy she felt the same way about me.

  Still, the situation wasn’t ideal for me to leave. Seaton and I were no closer to a solution to this problem than we’d been the first day I’d been brought on board. I bit the interior of my cheek and turned to look at him. “What do you think, Seaton?”

  “Go,” he encouraged me with a heavy sigh. “I think you could use the mental break. And maybe being out and thinking of something else will give some fresh perspective on your return.”

  I didn’t see how sitting in this room going round and round in circles would be of any benefit whatsoever. I had to agree with his assessment. “Very well. I’ll come back as soon as I am able. Gibson, I’m familiar with the gist of the case, but all I’ve heard are rumors.”

  “Grab your suitcoat,” Gibson encouraged. “I’ll brief you on the way to the station.”

  Jamie dropped a hand into the voluminous bag she preferred to cart about, brought a comb out, and took my head in hand without a by-your-leave. I grimaced in understanding as she dragged the comb through my rambunctious locks. “I look disheveled, don’t I?”

  “I think Queen Regina took your appearance as confirmation of the state of things,” she soothed me with a wink. “It’s alright. I just know if anyone else saw you like this, you’d be embarrassed to death. The back of your shirt’s untucked, by the way.”

  “Bless you, yes.” I hastily rectified this, and only then did I realize Clint balanced on Jamie’s shoulder. Oh dear, I really was out of sorts if I’d missed his presence. “Clint, you’ll accompany us?”

  He nodded seriously. Clint adored working on cases, and truly, it was in his nature to want to work. He was made to be a magician’s familiar, after all. This role wasn’t what his creator intended for him, but no one could cast disparagements upon his contributions. Clint was often able to access places we could not, and his viewpoint helped us ask the right questions.

  Truly, acquiring him for Jamie was one of the smarter decisions I’d ever made.

  I settled my clothing back to rights so I looked respectable instead of something Clint had dragged in. We bid Seaton good luck and exited the building. Truthfully, I felt the better for it. Just breathing in fresh air helped clear the cobwebs from my mind. I hadn’t realized how stale my thinking had become until I exited the room.

  Gibson escorted us off palace grounds and into one of the stand-at-ready vehicles issued for Kingsmen use. We climbed in with Gibson (thankfully) driving. The car had a closed top to it which muted the street traffic from the other vehicles around us, allowing for easier conversation. I settled into the back, as the front could more easily accommodate Jamie’s longer legs.

  As we puttered along, Gibson inquired, “Davenforth, you’ve heard something of the case?”

  “Yes, the Kingsmen talk of little else. That and the wards, I should say. I don’t have any particulars, however, just that a great deal of gold has been stolen, and there’s no trace of how it was accomplished, or by whom.”

  Jamie turned in the front seat so she sat sideways, making it easier to converse with all of us. “It was three hundred thousand crowns in gold stolen.”

  I whistled low. That was quite the sum. “Ingots or coins?”

  “Mix of both,” Gibson informed me. “Six ingots and three boxes of gold coins. You can see the logistical challenge.”

  “I can indeed. That’s a great deal of weight to shift.”

  “And they did it somewhere between the Kingston and Bristol stations,” Gibson threw in sourly.

  I took in the news with a blink. As I rarely traveled outside the city, I wasn’t sure how much that complicated matters. “How long of a ride was it between stations?”

  “Start from the beginning,” Jamie requested of Gibson before explaining to me, “He’s not actually told me everything. We thought to wait on you to join us first.”

  Sensible. It saved the man from having to repeat himself. It was one of my pet peeves, so I did endeavor to save others from it.

  “The gold shipment left Kingston six days ago, at six o’clock in the evening, and arrived in Bristol station at 6:40. It was then discovered the gold was missing.”

  I fetched a small notebook from my pocket and jotted down notes as he spoke. I was so overworked these days, I couldn’t trust my mind to retain the details. And I had the feeling this case especially would revolve around the details.

  “No other stops?” Jamie asked, also bent over a notebook and scribbling away.

  “None.” He shifted lanes to avoid a bumper collision ahead of us on the road. “Still, it’s quite the question of how it was even pulled off. There’s no sign of forced entry on any of the multiple locks. The security is quite complex too. There’re two wall vaults surrounded by a padlocked gate. Each vault has three separate, lockable compartments inside, with each compartment able to hold multiple portable safes. In this case, the safes contained iron-banded wooden boxes with wax seals on the bands, to verify the contents are undisturbed. So, five layers of protection.

  “When we arrived on scene, the safes containing the boxes of gold had actually been removed from the vaults and taken to the station office in preparation for handing them over to their owners. No one suspected anything was wrong until the iron bands were removed and the boxes opened to verify their contents for final delivery.”

  I whistled low. That was indeed impressive. “What was in the boxes? There must have been something, or the weight would have tipped off the handlers.”

  Gibson gave me an approving nod. “You’re correct. They’d filled the boxes with lead shot. Now, to further add to the complexity of this, the weight was a perfect match for the gold.”

  “How do you know that?” Jamie interrupted.

  “It’s one of the security measures. Any gold shipped is put into the box, sealed, then weighed. The weight’s recorded and sent with the inventory checklist. On arrival, before the box is opened, it’s weighed again. Only if the weight matches do they take it to the claim area.”

  “So, whoever did this not only knew of a way to get around all the many locks,” I said, mostly thinking aloud, “but knew precisely the weight of the boxes. Enough to bring the correct amount of lead shot to substitute out with. How would they know that?”

  Jamie made an inquiring noise in the back of her throat. “Doesn’t that mean this has to be an inside job? How else would you know all that, otherwise?”

  Gibson shrugged as he added, “That was my first thought too. Exc
ept they didn’t take all the gold.”

  I blinked, staring at the back of the man’s head. “Excuse me? How much was left?”

  “Two ingots, which equates to roughly sixty-three thousand crowns. I would think if this truly was an inside job, they would have been better prepared to take the lot of it.”

  True, thieves were not inclined to leave loot behind. And sixty-three thousand crowns was a great deal of money. Although it begged the question: Why leave those two ingots behind? Surely two ingots didn’t present that much of a logistical challenge?

  Jamie uttered a noise that meant she didn’t wholly agree, a doubtful frown pulling her brows together. “I don’t think we should be so quick to leap to conclusions on this. Think about it. You and Henri were both impressed they were able to shift three hundred thousand crowns worth of gold in a short period of time. You’re not sure how they managed even that. What if that was the upper range of what they could feasibly move? What if three hundred and sixty-three was just too much? They could have sensibly chosen to take what they could and not been stupid and greedy.”

  Gibson shrugged again. “Possibly. Thought’s crossed my mind. Practically every possibility’s crossed my mind at this point.”

  “I personally prefer stupid, greedy thieves,” I threw in sourly. “They’re easier to catch that way.”

  Jamie held out a fist, knuckles toward me. “Totally agree.”

  I bumped knuckles with her. I still found this an odd mannerism, but I enjoyed the way she grinned at me every time I played along. It was as if we were sharing a secret, just the two of us. My inner child approved.

  Gibson turned as the train yard came into sight. The station itself was a long, rectangular building off to the side with some parking along the front so passengers could be dropped off. It was busy, of course, with people entering or departing the city. Behind it sprawled the three warehouses that housed the train cars, along with the repair and maintenance service stations. I’d only been on a case in there once, an accidental death of a train worker that had looked suspicious. One of the best adjustments in recent law was to make the working conditions on the train yards safer. Casualties had dropped by forty-eight percent since the measures were put into place.