[Note: 'Ronir-Varros' translates as 'Smith-Wesson', and 'Rhellmanos' translates as 'Ironhand'. 'Marmasta' translates as 'Storm-star'.] * * * * * Deputy Minister Ronir-Varros and Chief Investigator Rhellmanos quickly left the Ministry of Special Projects offices in South Docks and boarded a waiting carriage for the trip to Riverside. Although officially, the Ministry of Special Projects was headquartered on Palace Mount in the Imperial Palace, the majority of the Ministry's business was conducted out of a complex of converted warehouses in the South Docks District. On paper, only one of the buildings, a set of small offices, belonged to the Ministry while the rest were registered as the property of a trading company called Universal Exports. As the carriage rattled out of South Docks and into the Manufactory Quarter, Ion Ronir-Varros finished reading the list of Erik von Kashaar's contacts, and asked Chief Rhellmanos, "How did you gather the names on this list?" "Well, we got lucky there," replied the Chief Investigator, "After the landlady identified von Kashaar's body, we searched it and found his day-book. Not much in it, no pages missing, but he kept a list of names and addresses in it. He had the names of his partners in the steel-mill syndicate there, as well as the names of the Tirrothi mill owners who were suing him. There were also the names of other members of his merchant house. Nothing that looked like it might be the name or address of a lover, though." "Hm, we should ask his landlady if he ever brought anyone home of nights," mused Ronir-Varros. After ten minutes or so, the coach entered Riverside. For a long time, the Riverside District had been one of the most run-down and dangerous parts of Thalsedon, with the parts of the District away from the main roads in the tight control of criminal gangs. Three years ago, however, a fire had destroyed much of Riverside (along with portions of Little Taltheran and the Vizinian Quarter), and the area had been rebuilt and the gangs driven out. Now the Riverside District was starting to thrive again, and many Kaeiran merchant houses and their employees had settled there. Soon, the coach stopped in front of a two-story house with a high mansard roof, a building which had obviously, by the style of its construction, survived the fire. Ronir-Varros and Chief Rhellmanos dismounted from the coach, Ronir-Varros carrying the dispatch box, and went inside in search of the landlady. "Which flat was von Kashaar in?" asked Ion. "2A, upstairs," said Rhellmanos. "There's two flats on the ground floor, two flats on the second floor, and an attic garret. Landlady lives in 1A, but," he said as he peeked in the open door, "she doesn't seem to be in at the moment." Ronir-Varros smiled. "Did you seal the flat?" "Yes, and put a guard in place." "Then, knowing how most landladies think, she'll be upstairs, trying to badger the watchman into letting her in so she can go through von Kashaar's property for her back rent." The two men went upstairs, where they discovered a tall young watchman being held at bay by a short, elderly lady. "Now see here, young man," she was saying, "it's sorry I am that poor Mr. von Kashaar was murdered, but I can't have this apartment going empty! How's a poor widow to survive, and me without a pension?" "Widow Marmasta?" interrupted Chief Rhellmanos. "Could we have a word?" The old woman turned and glared at him. "You again?" she snapped. "Who's your friend?" "This is Mr. Ronir," said the Chief. "He's lending his talents to our investigation. Now, I know one of my men spoke to you already, but we do have some more questions for you, so why don't we go down to your flat, mm? Once we're done there, Mr. Ronir and I will take a look at Mr. von Kashaar's flat, and then when that's done, we'll turn it back over to you, all right?" Mrs. Marmasta sniffed contemptuously as she bustled past Rhellmanos and Ronir-Varros. "A fine thing it is, the City Watch. Bah! Where were you when Riverside burned, eh?" She led the men downstairs and in to her apartment. Flat 1A was decorated in Sedonloc style: dark, heavy wooden furniture with ornate, not to say busy, carving on everything. Mrs. Marmasta gestured to the sofa (hideous in vomit-green upholstery), and said, "Make yourselves comfortable," before sitting herself in a rocking chair. The two men sat down. "How long had Erik von Kashaar been lodging with you, Mrs. Marmasta?" asked Ronir-Varros. "He came just after the fire," she replied, "So . . . not quite three years." "Was he a good lodger? Did he pay his rent on time?" "Well, his rent was always paid on time," said Mrs. Marmasta, "but he wasn't the best of tenants, not like that nice Casovian, Mr. McIlquaham, in 1B--such a well-spoken gentleman, helps me with the marketing." "How was Mr. von Kashaar not a good tenant?" asked Chief Rhellmanos. "Well, the tenants are supposed to be inside by an hour before midnight, when I bolt the door. On more than one occasion, Mr. von Kashaar was late, and I had to get up and let him in. He did always pay me extra the next time rent was due, though, for my trouble," the landlady replied. "A few times, he was late because he was working--I think he said something about year-end audits--but usually, when he was late, he was drunk." "Anything else?" asked the Chief. "Tenants aren't supposed to have guests stay overnight, but I'm certain that at least once Mr. von Kashaar smuggled a girl into his rooms somehow--I could smell cheap perfume." "Did he ever mention anything about his work to you? Or his family?" asked Ronir-Varros. "Not really," said Mrs. Marmasta, "He didn't talk much about his family, and I got the impression he was rather estranged from them. He did say that most of them lived in Kashaartown or Port Kaeir. He also didn't talk much about his work, although I do know he was feeling a lot of pressure there, and that he did his personal banking at the Temple of Sedon in Grand Market. When he first came, I asked for three months' rent in advance, and he gave me a draft on his account with the Temple." Ronir-Varros opened the dispatch box, took out the Hand of Garr amulet, and showed it to Mrs. Marmasta. "Did you ever see Mr. von Kashaar with one of these?" he asked. The old lady peered at the amulet. "N-no," she said, "no, I never saw him with anything like that. Mr. von Kashaar never wore jewellery besides his signet ring." Ronir-Varros put the amulet away. "Was he religious? You said he banked at the Temple of Sedon." "Well, he banked there, yes, but I don't think he worshipped there," said Mrs. Marmasta. "He didn't talk much about religion--he didn't talk much about himself at all, really." "Who are your other lodgers?" asked Ronir-Varros. "Well, I'm in 1A," she replied, "and then there's Mr. McIlquaham in 1B, whom I mentioned already--he teaches at the district grammar school. Poor Mr. von Kashaar was in 2A, then there's Miss Metterlin in 2B, who also teaches at the district school. And I rent the attic to three students from the university: Hugh Viridaren, Tomas Arelacus, and Ion Scaltsedon. They're all in their second year, I think. They're all out at work or at school at the moment." "Did Mr. von Kashaar talk to any of them?" "Not really. He mostly ignored the university students and Mr. McIlquaham. He did make a pass at Miss Metterlin, but she turned him down flat--she and Mr. McIlquaham are planning to marry. Mr von Kashaar took her rejection graciously," replied Mrs. Marmasta "When was the last time you saw Mr. von Kashaar alive?" asked Chief Rhellmanos. "Let me think . . . ten, maybe eleven days ago, in the evening. I was doing the dusting in the front hallway when he came in with a friend. Mr. von Kashaar was in a temper, and his clothes were mussed up. I asked him what was wrong, and he said that he'd been accosted by a beggar in the streets, but Mr. von Kiviri, his friend, had rescued him. Mr. von Kiviri asked Mr. von Kashaar if he was sure he was all right, and Mr. von Kashaar said that he was fine, that all he needed was a bit of a lie-down, so Mr. von Kiviri said good night and left, while Mr. von Kashaar went up to his flat. That was the last I saw of him," said the landlady. "Can you describe Mr. von Kiviri?" asked the Chief. "Medium height, I'd say, rather thin, almost gaunt. Greyish eyes, pale brown hair. He had an accent like Mr. von Kashaar's, but stronger. Oh, and he was tattooed, heavily tattooed," said Mrs. Marmasta. "Tattooed?" asked Ronir-Varros and Rhellmanos in unison. "Yes, tattooed," said Mrs. Marmasta with a nod. "He had a tattoo that curved up and around his right eye and then ran down the right side of his face and neck, under his collar, and when he shook hands with Mr. von Kashaar before he left, I saw more tattooing around his wrists running up his arms. Some sort of geometric design, quite barbaric, I thought." "I see," said Chief Rhellmanos. He exchanged glances with Ronir-Varros, and then said, "Well, Mrs. Marmasta, thank you for answering our questions. Mr Ronir and I will have a look at Mr. von Kashaar's flat, and when we're done, you can go in and start clearing it out." "And not before time, either," sniffed the old lady as the two men stood. "Mind you shut the door when you leave." As they walked back up the stairs to von Kashaar's flat, Chief Rhellmanos asked, "So, Ion, any thoughts on the widow's tale?" "Several, Chief. You realize, of course, that the incident with the beggar was almost certainly when he was stabbed?" The Chief nodded unhappily. "Which means I'll have to have my men rousting every beggar in the district." "Not necessarily," came the reply, "We also need to question this Mr. von Kiviri. Given that von Kashaar's death has all the marks of an assassination, von Kiviri is also a suspect. He could have stabbed von Kashaar in the back while pretending to dust him off, and if he was skillful enough, von Kasharr would never have noticed with such a slender blade." "Well, but what would his motive be?" asked Chief Rhellmanos as they came to the door of flat 2A. He turned to the watchman guarding the door, and said, "I'm going in with Mr. Ronir--you can return to your watch-house, and let the commander know that he needn't detail guards here any longer." "Thank you, sir!" said the watchman. He saluted and left, while Rhellmanos and Ronir-Varros walked into von Kashaar's flat. Even three days after the removal of von Kashaar's body, the flat still had the stink of death about it. In the main room, the front door had an upholstered armchair to the right and a small table draped with a red brocade cloth to the left; the front wall had two windows with a small bookcase between them, while the wall opposite the door was occupied by a sofa bracketed by two end-tables. The back wall had the door to von Kashaar's bedroom and more bookcases. The armchair by the door was badly stained, and by the smell was where von Kashaar's body had been found. Ion went over and examined the windows overlooking the front of the street. "Dusty . . . and only one set of fingermarks in the dust, probably von Kashaar's. He glanced around, then blinked as something caught his eye. "I thought your men searched this place," he said. "They did," said Rhellmanos with a frown, "or, at least, they reported they did--Why, what do you see?" Ronir-Varros walked over to the armchair by the door, bent down, and reached underneath. "The end of this," he said, pulling out a small crossbow. Looking at it, he said, "This is a hand crossbow, also called a pocket crossbow. You can span and fire it one-handed. Short ranged, and not much good against proper armor, but an excellent mugging deterrent." He glanced at the plate set in the side of the grip and laughed. "A Ronir-Varros Model VI, in fact. I'd wager that the watchmen who broke the door down kicked it under the chair without realizing it. They were meant to find it by the body and think that von Kashaar had killed himself, but given how disgusting this chair must have been, with von Kashaar's body sitting in it for a week in the heat, the watchmen must not have looked under it." "Not a very likely method of killing oneself," said the Chief. "No," agreed Ion, "and as soon as anyone looked at the bolt, they'd realize that it couldn't have come from this hand crossbow, but I suspect that our second murderer was counting on no-one looking too closely at an apparent suicide--you know the Church's attitude, and what popular superstition says." Rhellmanos grimaced in distaste, "I know, I know, even though there's never been any proof in the last century that suicides rise as undead, the Church still requires they be buried quickly." He took a deep breath, then looked as if he regretted doing so. "You said 'second murderer', Ion. You think the two are unconnected?" Ronir-Varros nodded. "That's right. The techniques are very different. The stabbing by a thin, needle-like blade suggests stealth, a desire to try and make the death appear natural. If it hadn't been for the one-shot bolt in his ear which made us examine the body thoroughly, the stab wound probably wouldn't have been found, and von Kashaar's death would have been labelled heart failure. The first murderer didn't want to even hint at foul play and was quite professional; the second murder was rather more amature. Different murderers, and different motives. "As I see it," he continued, "we have the following groups of potential motives for murder: First, a motive relating to his work with the Information Secretariat and Office of the Inquisitor. This is low in probability, since there's no evidence at all that he was still an active agent, and if he'd done something back then to make him worth murdering, he would have been murdered back then. Second, a motive relating to his personal life. This encompasses jealous lovers, family disputes, fathers and brothers revenging a wronged sister or daughter, et cetera--again, low probability, especially given his estrangement from his family. Third, a motive relating to his current work: rivals within his merchant house, the Tirrothi mill-owners who were suing his house, the farmers whose lands were threatened by his proposed dam. Fairly high probability, I think. And, fourth and finally, a motive related to the Hand of Garr: he might have been a member, or he might have been a threat to a member, or even both." "All right," said Chief Rhellmanos, "but before we start interviewing more witnesses, can you tell me how the second murderer managed to get out of here while leaving the door bolted from the inside?" Ronir-Varros strode to the door and kneeled down, examining the door and frame closely. When the watchmen had broken in, the bolt had torn its hasp screws out of the frame, leaving the wood splintered. Looking closely, he saw a small pin-hole in the door, near the edge, just over the bolt. He examined the floor of the hall just outside the door, and in the space of two minutes hand picked up a straight pin, a bent pin, each with a long pieces of string tied to it. "The second murderer bolted the door with these," he said, standing up and showing his finds to Chief Rhellmanos. The Chief looked at Ion dubiously. "How?" he asked flatly. "Simple," said Ronir-Varros. "Note how large the keyhole is on this door. Our would-be murderer sticks the straight pin in the door here, at the edge, just over the bolt--you can see the hole. He threads the string tied to the pin through the keyhole. Next, he takes the bent pin, which you will note has both ends of the string tied to it, and puts it over the knob on the bolt. Next, he drapes the string over the straight pin and then threads it through the keyhole. "All he has to do is step out into the hall, close the door, and gently pull on the string attached to the bent pin until he hears the clack of the bolt sliding home. A sharp tug on both strings dislodges the pins, and he pulls them through the keyhole and drops them on the floor, where in all likelyhood, no one will ever notice them. Very clever," finished Ronir-Varros. "Indeed," said the Chief. "Is there anything else you want to see here?" "Your men did search the bedroom, yes?" asked Ronir-Varros. "More thoroughly than they did out here?" "Yes, they did. That's where they found the amulet, remember, under his bed," said the Chief. "All the way under?" "No, near the edge by his bedside table, as if it had been dropped by the table, then accidentally kicked under the bed." Ronir-Varros stood in thought for a moment. "I think we've seen everything here we need to see," he said. "Let's go and talk to von Kashaar's co-workers." * * * * * Andrew ---------------------------------------------------------------- To unsubscribe, send mail to celandra-off@phoenyx.net.
