Archambault’s face was near apoplectic. “How dare you make such a vile accusation, sir! My concern is only that the rules are followed. Allowing an old woman to trollop through a very important case with her little animal show is not one of them!”
Blythe sniffed approval at his master’s tirade.
Kyrill took a step closer to the mayor, looming over the smaller man. “Who I assign to a case is my responsibility. Not yours. If you wish to file a formal complaint then please do.”
“I will!” said the mayor, wide eyed.
“Although,” the Chief said, “it would be a complete waste of time as the case will most likely be solved by then.”
The mayor’s eyes bounced between the Chief and myself as if looking for a hint of deception. “Is this true? Do you have a suspect?”
I spoke for myself. “We have leads, but I believe we will have something soon.” That might not have been true, but if felt good to say it to the mayor.
Fairfax leaned forward. “And most all the progress we made today was thanks to her little animal show.”
Archambault’s eyes glanced at my satchel and for a moment he looked worried. He turned to Chief Kyrill. “Then this time tomorrow, Chief Constable, if a suspect is not in custody, I will have your badge.”
Chief Kyrill blinked in surprise. But before he could respond in kind, Archambault whirled around and marched out the office, with Blythe scurrying close behind.
Once the two were out of earshot everyone in the office let out a sigh of relief.
“What an unpleasant little man,” I said and not for the first time that day.
“No matter how many times he is reelected,” Chief Kyrill said, “his manners never improve.”
Fairfax said, “Can he do that, sir? Just take your badge away on such a whim?”
The Chief shrugged, “Perhaps. But not without a fight from the Constabulary’s supporters on the council, few they may be. Oh, he’ll raise a stink and make life a little more difficult, but he’s been doing that for years anyway.” He looked hopeful for a moment. “Do you have a lead?”
I looked to Fairfax who could only offer a supportive smile. “Well, Chief Constable, we are working on that as hard as we can.”
Kyrill raised a hand. “That is all I ask for. But for now I think you two should get some rest. You both look drained.”
“Yes, sir,” said Fairfax. “Thank you, sir.”
As we left the Chief’s office and went back to the buggy a sensation of cold dread washed over me. There was more at stake here than an old detective’s professional pride.
If I could not close this case and the Chief was replaced with a puppet of the mayor, then the entire future of the Constabulary would be at risk.
CHAPTER TWELVE
After Fairfax dropped me off at my home I immediately went to the kitchen and made myself a cheese and beet sandwich. A favorite of mine since childhood I found some small solace in the ritual of eating it. The taste was wonderful.
As I ate my eyes wandered to my satchel which sat open on the kitchen chair beside me. Next to the knitting bag was my little pistol. I took it out and, not for the first time that day, checked to ensure it was loaded.
I wondered at such an odd life I had led. To be at such a stage in my later years that a pistol was required for my safety. When was it fired last? During the case of the wolfmen pack that stalked the Hearts district? No. During the case of the demon which took over the King of the Rats? No, that was too far back in the past.
As I tried to conjure the memory I yawned. Such things were best to not think of before bed. It would only create nightmares, and of those I already had plenty. I put the pistol on the table and looked at how the rock lights played across its steel surface. I hoped, that before this case was over I would not need to use it.
Tired, I picked up my satchel and went to my bedroom, turning off the rock lights along the way. I readied for bed, and as I climbed in I looked at the knitting bag in the satchel on the night stand. Now that brought back memories. Strong and fierce. My old mind did not need coaxing for those.
I turned off the rock light by my bed and closed my eyes. Sleep claimed me quickly and the vision of Oswall being lowered by the crane haunted my dreams.
xxxx
I woke with a start and sat upright in bed.
My heart thumped in my chest as my eyes searched the darkness for what yanked me from my slumber. Was it a noise, or a nightmare?
The room was pitch black, but I resisted the urge to touch a rock light. I had lived in this house for decades and I knew all of its creaks and pops when its old wood shifted. Now I listened. I sensed something was wrong.
Then it came. A slight creaking of the floorboard at the end of the hall that bordered the kitchen.
Someone was in the house.
My mind raced with the implications. No one had broken into my house before. I had taken precautions. Yet, with another creaking noise, this one closer, the fact was undeniable.
I fought down the panic that threatened to overwhelm me. I was, after all, a little old woman who lived alone. But this old woman had bite!
I realized I had an advantage, albeit temporary. I knew this house very well; the perpetrator did not. Also, based on how he or she moved, they were unaware I had woken. I could prepare for them.
In the darkness I eased across my bed until I was up against the night stand. I reached over to my satchel and placed my hand inside, searching. Where was my pistol? Then it hit me. Like a fool I had left it on the kitchen table. Maybe the person skulking in my hallway had it in their possession and sought to shoot me with it. How fitting.
Cursing inwardly I tried to think. There was my rifle in the closet next to the night stand, loaded but stuffed behind a bunch of clothing. Not very helpful yet I had little choice.
I moved off the bed and placed a foot on the cold floor. The wood beneath my foot crackled loudly.
Suddenly, the intruder gave up all pretense of stealth and rushed down the hall.
I lunged for the closet door in a last desperate gamble to grab the rifle but I knew I would be too late. I slipped and in my effort to maintain balance I lashed out with one hand. My fingers grazed the rock light on the night stand and it flicked on. I bumped against it as I fell to the floor. The light flung across the room to land spinning at the bedroom doorway.
The rock light spun around casting swirling shadows and light around the room. Then I saw him. A man, tall and lean, covered in black clothing. His face was covered with a black mask but his eyes were wide with anger. He held a pistol in his hand.
I gasped and reached up to right myself. If I was going to die, it would be on my feet.
The man entered the room and kicked the spinning rock light to the side. Its dim illumination cast him almost completely in shadow, and his eyes flickered like hateful jewels.
I stood but my old body defied me one last fight and I sagged backward. My hand landed in my satchel and that’s when I touched the knitting bag’s clasp.
What happened next was nothing short of miraculous.
A cat leapt from the knitting bag and it was unlike any I had seen previously. It was a mottled gray color and absolutely huge. One instance the bag was open and the next a cat the size of a small horse stood in the space between myself and the man in black.
The gigantic cat arched its back, long fur standing on end, and hissed so loud the sound shook the house.
Stunned, the man in black froze, eyes wide in shock. He fired his pistol, and I flinched at the sound. The man backpedaled and raced back down the hallway.