30 March 1686 of the 6th Era, Nightingale Road, South District

  Charlotte sleepily warmed her fingers against the cup, not even trying to hide a wide yawn. Antony, watching her from his chair on the opposite side of the dining table, half-yawned half-grinned in return.

  “And there I was, thinking you to be an early bird. Had I known, I would’ve slept in instead of waking up at six in the morning to meet you at the archives. And I could have scheduled our meeting with Mr Goldmann closer to noon, too, to avoid the morning crowd. Although, perhaps the latter is for the better, or we wouldn’t have been able to save Mr Dr’lain.”

  “That’s what putting tulle instead of proper curtains does to one’s rest schedule. You do remember that I taught astronomy at Lindau University, don’t you?” She put a piece of toast into her mouth, smiling cheekily. “It’s not just because I was fascinated by that endless expanse above our heads. While there are things that are best done during the day, I am most productive in the late evening. If anything, I chose the major because it corresponded to my own cycles.”

  “If Ethan were to hear that…”

  “The horror,” she pretended to be in shock before breaking into a hearty laugh. “His poor heart would have probably been forever broken. Well, for five minutes or so, and then he’d just shake his head and ask me to finish those calculations because there was this brilliant idea that he was eager to test.”

  “Sounds very much like him,” Antony had to agree. “So… what do you think of all of this?”

  Charlotte once again looked at the notes carefully arranged in front of her, with pieces of evidence, questions, and assumptions. Antony had conducted a very thorough investigation, she had to admit. On a level that would make some of the people at the SIU and the Nightmare Poets jealous.

  “Knowing what we know, it does strike me as odd that you first noticed something wrong around the end of January. Exactly when Lord Welz went to Mr Goldmann’s office to fetch his last will,” she once again compared the dates in her notepad with Antony’s observations.

  “More traced it back to that point in time,” he corrected her. “I first noticed a pattern towards the end of February, but couldn’t make much sense of it.”

  “Doesn’t matter. What does matter is, whatever happened on that date seems to be crucial, as it caused the rest of this to unfold.”

  “And Mr Brook is most likely the one holding the key to it all,” Antony nodded.

  “There are some things we can already put together, though. Comparing the list Mr Dr’lain provided us with, your own findings, and the people we initially thought were involved in this case, there are a few names that stand out,” Charlotte tore out a page from her notepad and passed it over to Antony. “Do you agree or would you add someone to the list?”

  He carefully examined the results of her morning’s research.

  “Lord Crona. Offered 50 000 gold pounds for the necklace. According to different sources, his and Lord Welz’s company is all but bankrupt, yet continues to demand certain research at RAS be given priority. Appears on Mr Dr’lain’s list as someone who might have overheard his drunken ramblings, but might have received information from other sources. E.g. heard Lord Welz complain about Mr Dr’lain’s visit.

  Mr Percival Blacksmith. Offered to buy the necklace at some unspecified time, got humiliated. People constantly claim that he and Lord Welz are at odds. However, some evidence points to a possibility of them cooperating, at least until a recent point in time. Had a large argument with Lord Welz on 22 January. No mention by Mr Dr’lain, but might have received information regarding the Northern Star and Mr Dr’lain’s visit from his wife. Banker, provides substantial funding for several RAS branches.

  Lady Ariadne Welz. According to preliminary information, wanted to have the necklace (at least this is what her husband stated publicly). Possible connection through the RAS. Works as a safety assessor, has made a couple crucial mistakes in the past month, very uncharacteristic of her. Did not speak to her father, but is on friendly terms with her siblings.

  Lord Marcus Welz. Showed interest in the necklace (inquired as to who was inheriting it). Issues with alcohol. Trained alchemist, was working on two projects that are suspected to have been sabotaged.

  Lord Richard Upcher. Brother of late Lady Margaret Welz, ordered an investigation into the cause of her death almost twenty years after the fact. Possibly used as an excuse? Certainly knew about Mr Dr’lain’s findings, never acted on those. Influential in the RAS, has cancelled a number of projects recently stating change of plans.”

  There were a few more names with question marks next to them, including Lord Welz’s youngest and eldest sons, some names mentioned in Antony’s lists, and a few that were provided by Mr Dr’lain. She also wrote down Dr’lain’s name, adding a “motive?” remark next to him.

  “You think he might be involved?”

  “I cannot cross him out,” she said simply. “He has no alibi for the fifth from what you’ve told me. He knew Lord Welz from their Eastern Archipelago campaign days, and he knew about both the original artefact and the one in Welz’s possession. The only thing he lacks is a motive to kill Lord Welz, but it could be anything at this point, ranging from money to revenge. Did Lady Sayles find his report?”

  “I haven’t asked, I’m sorry. I understand your reasoning. Hide in plain sight, pretend to be the victim of an attack… A bit risky if you ask me, but wholly plausible. I don’t see how he could influence the RAS, though.”

  “I don’t know, either, but we can look into it if other leads bring us nothing.”

  “Do you really think it’s the artefact that the culprit was after?”

  “The way I see it?” She made a funny grimace, winding a strand of hair around her finger, and turned a few pages in her notepad. Then suddenly froze, staring at a single line. A question she’d asked herself once, but couldn’t answer. And then she had no time to look into or think about thoroughly because other things got in the way. And yet, if everything really, truly was connected to a single exchange somewhere around 22 January…

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “How could I be so dumb?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What documents did Mr Brook deliver to that mysterious person?” She looked at Antony. Seeing that he was clearly not able to follow her line of reasoning, quickly continued. “He claimed that he had delivered a bunch of documents to someone, but didn’t say what documents or who it was, remember? Only hinted at possible espionage.”

  “Wasn’t that just an excuse?”

  “What if it wasn’t? What if he really did deliver something? We believed that he just made up an excuse on the spot because he wanted to get rid of us, and then we couldn’t think of anything important that he could have gotten his hands on. Unless, of course, you’re not telling me something and Lord Welz did have access to state secrets or some insider information on the state of your country’s economy.”

  “Not that I am aware of.”

  “And you’re the deputy head of the analytical department of Her Majesty’s Secret Service. Who also happens to be the secretary of one of this country’s most influential men,” she bit her lip. This was a very far-fetched theory, very much out there, but, “What if he delivered Lord Welz’s will? Mr Goldmann said that the paper described in detail how to store and treat the Northern Star. What if someone asked Mr Brook to have a look at the paper, and he ‘borrowed’ the original from Lord Welz’s safe? Which came to light somehow, prompting Lord Welz to rush to his solicitor’s office to retrieve the only copy.”

  “Why would Mr Brook do such a thing?”

  Charlotte looked at him, her expression becoming gentle, almost pleading, and her cold piercing blue eyes receiving a warm hue to them.

  “To answer that question, I need something from you first. Would you be so nice and fetch me a few reports on the state of the funding of a few projects from the RAS? I need to check something.”

  “It depends on what you need, but,” he paused.

  “Ha,” Charlotte leaned back on her chair, clapping her hands.

  “He was getting married.”

  “Doesn’t always stop one from having a side-piece. It would also fully explain his unwillingness to talk. He knows I am friends with Laureen and would never let it slide, even if he swears that it was a drunken accident or a little mutually pleasurable adventure. Or whatever else people tend to come up with.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if he is simply afraid of the person in question. Very possible that he was coerced into it and things got too intimate too quickly. By the time he realised his mistakes, whoever roped him into it had enough on him to threaten blackmail or worse. Right now he still has hope I will solve the case without that crucial piece of information,” she sighed. “Unfortunately, I am not that brilliant.”

  Antony covered his face with his hands, shaking his head in embarrassment, “I see only one woman on that list. Unless, of course, he’s also attracted to men.”

  “We’ll just have to ask him. It’s just one theory, anyway, and my displeasure with him is not backed by facts. He could have been blackmailed for something else, too,” she continued. “Or it could be much simpler than that. It was someone who helped him in the past, and he didn’t think that showing them the will would cause trouble. Maybe he thought he was helping someone distraught get peace of mind. He realised how mistaken he was only when Lord Welz was found dead in his study.”

  “Whatever it is, this sounds at least somewhat plausible and explains all the setpieces we have acquired so far. Oh, and didn’t Mr Placek mention that someone heard Lord Welz and Mr Brook argue, but couldn’t tell what they argued about?”

  “Now that you mention it, yes,” she quickly leafed through her notes in search of the right entry. “Lord Marcus Welz and a maid.”

  “More credibility to your theory. But let’s go back to my initial question,” Antony looked at the papers scattered across the table. “Is this really about the artefact, and if so, how is it connected to whatever is happening at the RAS?

  “Furthermore, how did the person know what it did and how to activate it? Even you, having fought a similar being, cannot provide a coherent answer.”

  “Lord Upcher had five years to research it. Lord Welz's children, too, had all the time in the world. Especially if they grew suspicious of their mother's illness,” Charlotte said.

  “Alright. But why now? Why didn’t Lord Upcher use the information five years ago? The same goes for Lord Welz’s children.”

  “Good question. My guess? Something else happened that prompted our culprit to act.”

  Charlotte sat back, her arms crossed on her chest, trying to piece the facts together for them to make sense, but failed every iteration.

  “What if,” Antony proposed, “it wasn’t about the artefact, but about money? Say, one of his children, or someone at his company, is sick and tired of Lord Welz’s refusal to step down, either as a business partner or as head of the family. They devise an elaborate plan to get rid of him, just need to wait for the right time. It still makes sense that they wanted to see the will, if only to make sure they were getting their share.”

  “No one but his children would be getting anything, though. Sure, the funds weren’t distributed evenly, but would it really be worth it? And in that case, our previous assumption doesn’t make sense. Why would they need to ask Mr Brook to see the document? Just take the key and see for yourself.”

  “There’s one more possibility. Lord Welz was the one being blackmailed. After all, he managed to somehow end up on the brink of bankruptcy.”

  “Of course. Lord Welz scheduled a meeting with them to… Say, he pretended that he wanted to confront them regarding the missing will. Or on the contrary, they wanted to confront him about something, and he used the opportunity.

  “If there was one person fully aware of the true nature of the artefact, it was Lord Welz. There were candles scattered across his writing desk, and he was holding something before death, right? Something that the culprit didn’t immediately remove, or couldn’t immediately remove…”

  “The classic case of the killer becoming the victim, and the would-be victim using the opportunity to grab the stone, the second will, and the money, making it look like a robbery. But in this case, I don’t understand the need to destabilise the RAS.”

  “Neither do I. I think it’s time we stop with the assumptions and talk to Mr Brook. Do you think prisons here allow visitors on Saturdays?”

  “I don’t know, but even if they don’t, we have a bloody good reason to not have to wait till Monday. Do you want to go there now?”

  “No. First, I want to go back to the hotel and have a change of clothes,” she stood up, regretfully looking at the empty cup. “I also need to do something about my hair. And I wouldn’t say no to a bath. Doesn’t have to be in this particular order.”

  “Quite the demands,” he walked over to her and placed his hands on her waist, pulling her into an embrace. “Anything else?”

  “Another cup of coffee would be grand,” she rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes. “And maybe stop by a cafe on our way back.”

  “All for it. Hopefully we’ll also meet Greg along the way.”

  “Oh. I meant to ask where he went. He was watching over me, wasn’t he? At least I think I saw him yesterday. Unless you have an actual talking cat.”

  “He was here. Once you woke up, he went to the RAS to continue his reconnaissance mission. Listen to rumours, see if there are new developments. Anything out of the ordinary.”

  “And what did you promise him for his cooperation?”

  “A few things here and there,” Antony leaned down and kissed her, then took a step back. “I’ll get the water ready for you.”