The carriage moved along at a polite clatter. Outside, the sun was shining and pedestrians skittered out of the way like frightened rats.
Inside, the carriage was stiflingly warm and smelled of sickeningly sweet raspberry candy. The man responsible for this uncomfortable stink was seated opposite me, his bald head shining bright with sweat though he worked very hard not to show any sign of being affected by the heat.
As any proper gentleman should.
For that, I would give the man some small credit.
I frowned at what he'd been telling me.
"Another body?"
"That's right," he said. "And if I was a better Investigator, I'd say there was some sort of pattern involving you."
"Me?"
"Well, everyone does seem connected to you, sir."
"I don't see how," I said. "I didn't know the blacksmith or his son. And I only knew of the gentleman in the diving suit because he was harassing my brother."
"And he died after seeing you," Telly countered. "And then it appears the leatherworker has also died. And not very comfortably, either. He choked on a pair of scissors."
"Not an accident, then," I muttered.
"Not unless he was trying to cut out his own tonsils and slipped," the Investigator said drily. "It does, however, point to a troubling pattern of someone trying to get rid of evidence. And, as a guard, I don't like that very much."
"As someone trying to clear my name, I like it even less."
"As you say."
"It does matter," I said firmly.
"I'm sure it does."
I rolled my eyes at him. It wasn't a polite gesture, nor one any gentleman should give in polite company. But I felt he wasn't exactly being polite company.
When the carriage skidded to a halt, I kicked the door open myself and hopped out into the fresh air with relief.
Away from that dreadful raspberry smell.
Only to be assaulted by the rather awful smell of a tannery.
I stood there, momentarily disoriented as I tried to compare the two stinks to make a judgement on which was worse.
"This way, sir," the Inspector called, using a tone of voice one might use with an elderly gentleman whose faculties were declining.
I scowled at him but said nothing.
I wouldn't rise to his bait.
I wasn't a fish.
Inside the little factory were vats of foul-smelling fluid and pelts in varying stages of curing. The interior of the factory was as dank and morbid as you'd expect.
And, in the middle of the room, a wiry little man was sprawled on his back.
Staring sightlessly up to the ceiling.
A pair of rather large scissors in his throat.
Beside the body were a few piles of ashes and the tattered remains of some books which had been shredded.
I guessed these to be the man's records.
The mage responsible had come here, killed the leatherworker, and then destroyed all trace of the factory's client list or recent sales.
At least, that's what it looked like to my untrained eye.
Telly pursed his lips and gave me a dull look.
"Well," he said. "It looks like your mage came here, killed old Stenson, and then burned all his records."
"Really?" I said, equally blandly. "You can tell all that just by looking at the body and the mess around him? How absolutely thrilling. You should work at the fair, Inspector. Maybe read palms."
"No gold in it," he returned quickly. "Last time, I barely came out even."
I gave him a flat stare which acknowledged he could have that little win.
He returned my flat stare without a smile.
But his lollipop twitched.
"Stenton is the fellow's name?"
"It is," Telly confirmed. "Harl Stenton. Been in the trade since he was a nipper. Was his dad's shop before he took over. Neighbours say he was well-liked, if a bit tetchy after a few drinks. Although, he only drank on weekends. Not married, but he was seen with more than one young lady down at the Nobbler's. That's a brothel, sir."
"Hmm."
"A place where one can rent a woman for sexual-"
"I know what a brothel is, Inspector."
"Yes, sir," he said, his eyes showing a slight glint at last. "So I heard."
"Do you know what I like most about brothels, Inspector?"
"I'm really not sure I'd want to guess, sir."
"I like that you can pay for a room with some rather sophisticated privacy enchantments. They're convenient places for a bit of unconventional sorcery."
"Unconventional sorcery?" His shifted the lollipop from cheek to cheek. "I like that phrase, sir. I'll have to remember that one."
"I can show you some if you like," I said, letting the void flare in my eyes. I know he saw it. The crisp purple glow seems to burn like fire as soft twittering voices hover at the edge of your hearing. I know he could hear them. "I'm rather fond of unconventional sorcery, you see."
"I think I can live without it."
"Can you?"
We held each other's gaze.
A tight string seeming to vibrate between us as we tested each other's resolve.
"Alright." He dropped his gaze first, sighing through his teeth. "We got nothing from the body. Nothing from his office. But neighbours said they saw him arguing with a mage last week. A heated argument, too."
"Were they able to describe him?"
"Short, fat, and very ugly is the basic theme," he said.
"Ugly isn't very specific."
"His face was a mess. Some said scars. Some said deep wrinkles."
"Hmm."
"He apparently told Stenson that he would, and I quote, melt his head clean off if he didn't supply what he'd promised."
I blinked at that one.
While it wasn't uncommon for mages to stoop to threats, two things did feel familiar. Scarred. And melting faces off.
"Did anyone happen to mention if he had a moustache?"
Telly's mouth twitched and he gave a small irritated grunt. "Actually, now you bring it up, they did. How did you know?"
"Fagen Veed," I said calmly as my memories did a bit of a dance inside my head. "That's who you're looking for."
"You know him?"
"I should," I said. "We were in the military together. The same unit."
"You were in the military?"
"Yes." It wasn't something I liked to talk about.
"What company, if I may ask?"
"The same as Veed's."
"Which was…?"
"The same as mine."
The Inspector's gaze held firm, then drifted away again. "Fair enough. If you're going to see him, I'd like to tag along this time. If you don't mind."
"I don't mind, Inspector," I said. "But I do have one piece of advice it would be healthy of you to take."
"I'm always up for better health, sir."
"Don't try to get in the way." I cracked my knuckles and clenched my jaw. "This is a matter best to be resolved by two gentlemen from the same company."
The carriage ride was mostly silent.
Save for the wet suckling sounds of the Inspector and his precious lollipops.
As soon as one was finished, he unwrapped another and stuck it between his lips.
It was like he had an endless supply.
"I'd appreciate if we could talk to him before you kill him," Telly said just as we pulled up to Veed's house. "Just to get the paperwork done, of course."
"Of course," I said as I stepped out of the carriage and looked up at the shabby little house. It wasn't in the best condition and I felt a moment's pity for the man. He deserved better accommodations than this for what he'd done in the Emperor's service. "But that will be up to him."
"Do you think it's likely he'll attack first?"
"Taran!" A loud roar rang out as the front door was wrenched open. The familiar face of Fagen Veed glared at me. His large body darkened the doorway. His eyes were bright with savage glee. "I knew I'd see you sooner or later! I always swore if I saw you again, I'd melt your head clean off! Well. Happy days are here at last, eh?"
And then he threw a fireball at my head.