Something had turned the wagon on its head last night. Not pretty. Horse innards scattered across the grass.

  I traced the claw marks on the wagon with my fingers. “What do you think this is? Seems too big even for a werewolf...”

  Fred squatted in front of the innards, staring at them as if he had lost a ring in the mess.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked with a disgusted grimace.

  “Divination.”

  “Hm... that’s an interesting way of doing forensics.”

  “No. This creature is not as irrational as it seems—” He stuck his hands inside the gore and pulled a massive liver out of it. “It’s superstitious.”

  I nearly retched.

  “I believe you.” I covered my mouth. “No need to show me.”

  He inspected it closely, rotating the liver in his hands. “Seems like hepatitis from munching on poisonous plants. This horse was sick. Or cursed, if you’re into divination.”

  “So... what? Do you think the creature just butchered this caravan to see the future?”

  “Probably not.” He threw the liver back into the pile. “But it cared enough to go out of its way for a peek. Now it’s expecting a bad omen.”

  “Oh. Now, this sounds exploitable.”

  “Indeed.” He stood up, hands dripping wet. “But fear can manifest in many ways.”

  “We still don’t have a motive.” I looked around. “These killings seem random.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And here I thought you would pull the answer from a kidney or something.”

  He looked up. “I don’t believe in these things.”

  I lowered my voice. “Said the Gypsy wizard to the marionette.”

  He heard me.

  “It’s different. There’s hope, and there’s craft.”

  “Alright then...” I scratched my neck. “Fred, I know you don’t want to talk about this, but...”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t think that Mallory guy is going to leave us alone.”

  He pointed towards the wagon. “Check what they were carrying.”

  “I’m serious. What are we going to do if he comes back?”

  He ignored me again. “We should be able to set a trap if we understand what the creature is targeting.”

  I stepped in front of him. “Listen to me!”

  His features twisted, black eyes locking me in place. “I’ll fucking deal with it when it comes, alright? Right now, we have work to do.”

  Shit.

  I looked away, freezing like prey as he stopped beside me. I’ve never felt more scared of him.

  “You’re not yourself,” I said.

  He leaned closer, his breath against my ear.

  And twisted the dagger in my chest.

  “Just do your job,” he said.

  My lips were numb, but I forced myself to speak. “You can’t stop me from caring about you.”

  Fred walked off, shaking his head.

  Damn it, Fred...

  I pulled the collar of my shirt and approached the wagon.

  There were metal scraps scattered on the grass, but I didn’t know what they were meant for. The real cargo was hidden under the structure.

  “Here we go.” I grabbed the wagon’s edge and lifted it with a grunt, enough for me to peek under it.

  Gears, wheels, pistons...

  “Machinery parts? No wonder the factory owners are mad.”

  I'd better let him know.

  I released the heavy structure. Thud.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Why would the creature want to interfere with factories, though?” I asked.

  “Some people are stupid enough to employ monsters.” Fred flipped through a large tax record tome. “I’ve seen it in the war.”

  “Do you think this is the doing of a greedy competitor, then?” I blinked rapidly, remembering the last thing he said. “Also... war?”

  “Let’s avoid premature conclusions, but yes, we should talk to some factory owners.”

  “Sounds like a plan, but...” I thrust my head between him and the book. “War?”

  I flinched as he snapped the book shut.

  “People fought, people died. It’s over.” Fred slipped the book under his arm and walked off.

  “Bloody hell.” I trotted after him.

  The town hall was busier in the afternoon, with bureaucrats in suits hurrying both ways. I had to dodge some.

  Fred didn’t bother.

  “Sorry!” I said as he bumped into a man half his size, earning us some angry stares. I lowered my voice. “Could you please try not get everyone to mistrust us even more?”

  His face didn’t twitch.

  “I know you don’t like working for the city, but we can’t afford to torch the deal,” I said.

  “I did not see him.”

  I sighed. “Okay...”

  Our carriage was parked outside.

  Savio turned in his seat. “Where are we going?”

  “Do you know that glassware factory by the canal?”

  “Ah, yeah. The big one.”

  “We’re starting there.” Fred tapped the wagon and slipped inside.

  The reins cracked, setting us on the move.

  I side-eyed Fred.

  There was something I wanted to ask him so badly. I bit my tongue.

  Today, though, I pushed my luck enough.

  He’s going to throw me in the bloody river. I’d better talk to Savio to distract myself.

  “Hey, Savio, have you ever been to war?” I asked without thinking.

  My eyes shot wide.

  The carriage went even quieter somehow.

  “Yep...” Savio sighed. “I was a surgeon. Who told you that?”

  A thin line of smoke came out of Fred’s mouth.

  “Nobody.” I forced a chuckle out. “Just a stray thought.”

  “Got it. You don’t have to worry, though. It ended before you were alive... thank God.”

  I nodded repeatedly, even though he couldn’t see me, my eyes darting to my right.

  A sickening stench hit me, like rotten meat and sulfur.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s summertime in the city.” Savio chuckled. “Brace yourselves.”

  The canal came into view on my left.

  I gagged as the smell got even stronger. “Is that... gas coming out of the water?”

  “Yeah. Where do you think our sewage ends up? Dead dogs, cats, some people...”

  Oh shit...

  I covered my mouth. “I’m glad we live on the outskirts—”

  CLANG. A metallic noise rang out in the distance.

  Fred’s ear twitched.

  “Let’s go.” He got out of the carriage as we stopped.

  The factory’s entrance was just smoke and noise. Workers left covered in black grime.

  We covered our faces as we went in.

  Whoosh.

  A massive furnace loomed ahead of us. Men pulled molten glass from its holes like glowing honey.

  Fred tapped one of the workers, sweating down his face. The heat here was unbearable.

  “Where’s your boss?” he asked.

  “The Foreman is right there by the storage.”

  “No—I mean the bloody owner.”

  The man frowned, inspecting him from head to toe.

  Fred rolled his eyes, pulling a piece of paper from his coat. “Detective Inspector Frederick from The Yard. Where is he?”

  “Oh, sorry. He left in a hurry a couple of hours ago.”

  I pulled my hair back. “Did we just waste our time coming here?”

  “Well.” Savio turned and began to walk. “Back to the carriage—”

  “No, wait. There’s a reason I picked this factory first,” Fred said.

  I waited for the worker to move out of earshot. “Is there something fishy going on here?”

  “This owner’s history is peculiar.”

  “Which is...?”

  “Nothing—no tax record prior to a few years ago. He wasn’t important enough to even show up in the book, and suddenly, he’s dominating the market?”

  “Maybe he’s just business savvy.”

  “With what money? You can’t do business on this scale without the kind of capital that draws attention or investors, and guess what, it’s just a guy.”

  I shrugged. “I’m just playing the Devil’s advocate here, Fred.”

  “Yeah, well, let’s make the Devil proud and turn this place upside-down for clues.”

  I locked my feet together and saluted with a giggle. “Yes, Detective Inspector Sir!”

  Fred blinked. “You’re childish.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him as he walked off to interrogate someone.

  Savio shook his head my way, a disappointed look on his face.

  “What?”

  We dispersed through the smoke.

  Puff-puff-puff...

  “Excuse me.” I pulled an older worker aside. “How long have you been working here?”

  He tried to rub the soot off his face with his dirty hands, but it only got worse.

  I cleaned his eyes on my sleeve.

  “Thanks,” he said. “A couple of years, I think. Since the very beginning.”

  “So, the factory is not that old, eh?”

  He shook his head. “Oh no.”

  “What can you tell me about the owner?”

  “What can I say? I get my bread, not much, but it’s on time.”

  “But personally, I mean. Have you ever noticed anything... different about him?”

  He scratched his neck. “Well... we don’t really talk about this, but there’s a little something.”

  “What is it?”

  The man hesitated.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”

  “Alright, you seem like a decent one.” He leaned closer. “It’s just that he drinks a bit too much, and there are those days...”

  “Those days?”

  “Yeah. He comes here screaming, breaking stuff, as if someone is after him or something.”

  “Is he in danger?”

  “No, there’s never anyone really. It’s all in his head. I think it’s just the booze talking.”

  “Hm...” I took my chin, thinking. “What about—”

  “What the devils are you?” He blurted out, squinting his eyes towards me.

  Oh snap. He didn’t notice.

  It was good while it lasted.

  I hurried back into the smoke, waving. “Thank you!”

  Hiss...

  I bumped into someone.

  “Sorry—”

  Gray hair, not so dirty yet.

  It was Savio.

  “Oh, hey,” he said. “I couldn’t get anyone to talk. I’m afraid I don’t have your skills, he he.”

  “It’s okay. I think I’m onto something. Where’s Fred?”

  He shrugged. “This place is a mess.”

  We searched everywhere until a black blur appeared by the storage near the entrance.

  He’d just finished talking to the Foreman and stood staring at the ground, lost in thought.

  “Hey, Fred.” We approached him. “I think the owner might have some loose screws—”

  “Wait.” He raised his hand. “Savio, do you recognize the last name Reynolds?”

  Savio scratched his head. “Not really. Sounds common, though.”

  Fred’s muscles relaxed. He seemed...

  Relieved?

  My head tilted.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Never mind.” Fred crossed his arms. “What do you got, Connie?”

  “The workers said Mr. Reynolds has a drinking problem, and some other stuff.”

  “Other stuff?”

  “Yeah. It seems he hears voices.”

  “Right. A lunatic with hidden deposits of cash, plus one of the biggest factories in the city.”

  “I swear! That’s what they said.”

  “I believe you,” he said. “Either way, that’s not enough. We need motive.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Check the upper floor. Then we’ll go talk to his competitors if we find nothing here.”

  “Alright—”

  Heavy boots echoed loudly behind us, cutting me short.

  Workers began moving faster, the furnaces roaring louder.

  “Something’s wrong,” I said.

  The footsteps stopped.

  A deep voice boomed out.

  “If that isn’t the man himself! In my factory, no less!”

  “Oi, Fred...” Savio muttered.

  Fred uncrossed his arms, eyes widening as he turned around.

  I’ve never seen him more pale.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”