“I could,” she agrees, “but that would be intruding.”
“Is that so different from what the dead do to us?”
“I’d like to think it is,” she says, smiling. As she slips the earrings into her purse, I think I see one of her dead husbands beside her. I blink, and the moment and the image are gone.
A CLEAN GETAWAY by Keith R. A. DeCandido
“Watch where you step!’ Lieutenant Danthres Tresyllione was already in a bad mood when she arrived at the house in Unicorn Precinct, and finding herself being yelled at by one of the guards did not improve it. Looking down, she saw that the floor of the house was covered in some kind of dark muck.
Her superiors were generally amenable to paying for a Cleaning Spell to get blood stains out of her boots and earth-colored cloak. This whatever-it-was, on the other hand, would be a harder sell, and Danthres was in no mood to fight that particular battle with whatever functionary in the Lord and Lady’s court oversaw the appropriations for such things.
“I’ll stay out here, then,” she said, stopping in the threshold.
“Not a problem,” said a familiar voice from inside. It was her partner, Lieutenant Torin ban Wyvald. “I’ve already been soiled, so I’ll provide the gory details.”
Danthres peered inside to see a large sitting room that would have been considered fancy and high-class but for the fact that it was covered in a truly impressive amount of dirt and grime and muck. Tramping around in it were the guard who had cautioned her to step lightly-whom she recognized as Manfred, one of the few grunts in the Cliff’s End Castle Guard who had anything approaching a brain-and Torin. Hovering about a hand’s-length above the floor was the M.E., Boneen. Typically, the magical examiner refused to degrade himself, so he used his wizardly abilities to levitate; just as typically, the cranky old bastard didn’t offer the same courtesy to the others.
“I’m surprised to see you here already, Boneen,” Danthres said. “It usually requires a team of dragons to get you to a crime scene with any dispatch.”
Glaring witheringly at Danthres from his position over the floor, Boneen said, “Does it disturb you, Tresyllione, to make so many attempts at wit and yet fall short of the mark?”
“Not in the least.” Danthres turned to Torin. “So what happened?”
Torin cleared his throat before speaking. “This house is owned by the Jaros family. The actual owner is the family patriarch, Millar Jaros, and his son, daughter-in-law, and four grandchildren all live here as well. This morning the daughter-in-law, Abbi, came downstairs to prepare breakfast, and discovered this.”
While Torin was talking, Danthres had been looking at the muck and noticing something. “All right, this is odd-there’s a pattern to the gunk. Like it all exploded outward.” She’d seen similar patterns in blood when someone was struck with a heavy object, especially in the head, but it wasn’t something she ever expected to see with dirt.
“Yes, it did.” Torin was now pointing at a closet door. “It seems to have come out from there.”
Crankily, Boneen said, “No ‘seems’ about it. I did the peel-back, and it showed this garbage literally explode outward from the closet.” On loan from the Brotherhood of Wizards, the magical examiner’s primary purpose was to cast an Inanimate Residue Spell, commonly called a “peel-back,” which allowed him to see what recently happened in a particular place. “And once I did that, I had this young man call you two in.”
That, at least, explained why Boneen’s arrival preceded theirs. She looked at Manfred. “You summoned the M.E., Manfred?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The guard sounded pleased that she remembered his name. “And he had me bring you in, like he said, ma’am.”
Danthres’s mood grew darker by the second. “Pardon me, Boneen, but I was under the impression that the function of lieutenants in the Castle Guard like myself and Torin was to investigate crimes that occur within the Lord and Lady’s demesne.”
“What are you driving at, Tresyllione?”
Angrily, Danthres said, “What I’m driving at is that what I see here is an accident, not a crime-unless there’s a dead body I’m missing under all this?”
Torin’s long red hair and thick red beard obscured all of his face save for his humorous eyes and aquiline nose-except when he smiled broadly, as he did now. “No, but there is a bit of a wrinkle.”
She sighed. “Of course there is.”
Manfred said, “I talked to Abbi Jaros and then her husband, father-in-law, and children, and they all say the same thing: until this morning, there was no closet there, just a blank wall.”
“So there’s magic afoot.” She fixed her irritated gaze upon Boneen. “Isn’t magic the Brotherhood’s concern?”
“Licensed magic is, yes. This is unlicensed magic.” Sniffing, he added, “The Brotherhood does not consort in magicks that cast dirt about.”
“What, your desire to keep from getting your hands dirty extends to the rest of the world, too?”
“Something like that, yes. In any case, I’ve already communicated with Lord Ythran, the local Brotherhood representative, and he and I agreed that this is an unlicensed commercial spell, and therefore not within the Brotherhood’s purview. So have at it.”
With that, Boneen gestured, muttered something, and disappeared in a flash of light.
After blinking the spots from her eyes-Danthres was half-elf, which made her more sensitive to the bright lights that accompanied Boneen’s Teleport Spell-she said, “This doesn’t answer my question.”
“What question is that, Danthres?” Torin asked as he slogged through the muck toward the front door.
“What crime has been committed?”
Torin looked down, smiled, and then looked back at Danthres. “Well, vandalism at the very least.”
“A crime easily solved even by the pea-brained idiots of the guard rank.” Turning to Manfred, she said, “Nothing personal, Manfred.”
Manfred grinned. “Honestly, ma’am, most guards’ brains aren’t that large.”
Danthres found herself laughing against her better judgment, then quickly grew serious again. The last thing she wanted to do was get chummy with one of the guards. “So why are we handling this?”
Torin walked slowly to the closet door. “I said vandalism was the very least this could be. I’ve examined the closet door-it doesn’t match the design of the rest of the house, and the space it takes up can’t be accounted for by the shape of the house. It’s definitely something magical. It might be some sort of attack on the Jaros family. Since we haven’t actually spoken to them yet, now might be the time to do that, and see if this is part of something larger.”
Rolling her eyes, Danthres said, “Somehow I doubt that very much.” She sighed far louder than perhaps she should have and asked Manfred, “Where are they?”
“Next door, ma’am-they said they didn’t want to stay in here until it was cleaned up.”
Torin gingerly walked across the sitting-room floor toward Danthres. “Perhaps you can recommend that cleaning service of yours?”
Her face darkening even more, Danthres said, “Not likely. I spent half the morning trying to find where they put everything.” At the behest of a rather aggrieved landlady, Danthres had hired a cleaning service for her rooms. Said landlady had rented Danthres the two rooms on the upper floor of her house in Dragon Precinct on the condition that Danthres keep the place clean and neat. However, Danthres had not been keeping up that part of the bargain especially well, thanks to the long hours she put in as a detective for the Castle Guard as well as her own inherent laziness when it came to matters of housekeeping. Since the landlady was threatening to toss Danthres out on her ear if she didn’t comply, she hired a cleaning service.
They’d done a thorough job of making the place neat and shiny and clean. It was far more thorough than Danthres would have believed possible-so much so, in fact, that Danthres couldn’t find a single thing she was looking for this morning. It was what had set her on her bad mood in the first place.