Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Ada Marlow lived several hours away from Chester, so I reluctantly arranged for a local inspector, Inspector Darling, to pass the death message in person. It wasn’t long before he rang me to let me know the outcome.
Normally I called fellow Inspectors by their surnames, like Bland, but doing so with Darling always felt awkward. ‘Inspector Darling,’ I said as I answered. ‘What have you got for me?’
‘Wise,’ he began briskly. We’d dealt with each other a time or two, and he was one of the good ones.
‘The widow was dry-eyed upon notification but visibly shocked. She said they had been separated for two years following some infidelity on the part of the deceased. He begged her not to divorce him while he continued his term on the Symposium, political picture and all that. She agreed to wait, but he paid maintenance to her and visited their son, Frankie, every other weekend at best, more infrequently at worst.’
‘Any other contact with the kid? Telephone calls?’
‘None.’
I grimaced. Marlow wasn’t going to win any Father of the Year awards.
‘Any issues she knows about? Any enemies?’
‘She became distressed at that juncture of the interview and insisted on verifying the death for herself. She will make arrangements to come to Chester to view the body, whereupon she would like to meet the lead investigator. I gave her your details.’
‘Thanks,’ I said drily, making the other man chuckle lightly.
‘Let me know if you need any further assistance, Wise. I’ve got to go. I’ve got a Grade Two myself.’
‘No problem. Thanks for your help, Darling.’ I winced as the name slipped out sans title.
‘No problem, sweetheart.’ He hung up with a laugh.
Heat crept into my cheeks, and I was grateful for the dial tone. Well, that was embarrassing. He must be used to it, I reasoned, pressing my palms to my hot cheeks.
Since I had my phone out, I dialled before I could second-guess myself.
‘Inspector,’ Krieg greeted warmly. ‘How are you?’
‘Do you have entrails in your hair?’
When he spoke, he sounded amused. ‘Not yet, but the day is young.’
‘I have a dead body.’
‘And you thought of me? I’m touched.’
I sighed. ‘The wounds are consistent with ogre tusks, Krieg.’
‘Ah, back to Krieg, are we now?’ he asked mildly.
‘You called me Inspector!’
‘It’s a term of endearment.’
‘Can we get back to the dead body?’
‘By all means,’ he said smoothly. ‘You were saying one of my ogres killed someone?’
‘Lord Theodore Marlow. Can you check your books, please?’
At that, his tone was businesslike. ‘Of course, Inspector.’ I clenched my teeth. It no longer felt like a term of endearment. ‘I’ll check our records and be back in touch.’ He hung up.
No warm goodbyes, no promises to serenade me under moonlight.
I pressed my lips together and ran a hand through my tousled brown hair.
I really didn’t want to fuck things up with Robbie, but I had a dead guy killed by an ogre.
What was I supposed to do? If I hadn’t been dating Robbie, that’s what I would have done: contacted the King of the Ogres and asked the question.
Now that I was dating him, should I have done it differently?
Asked him about it over a platter of hummus with a glass of wine?
I shook my head. The dead came first; they had to. If that put a crimp in my dating life, I’d deal with it.
I scanned Ed’s short report, the salient details of which were: he’d found nothing.
No prints, no hair or fibres, and no weapon.
It was rare not to have a lead to tug, and that underlined that whoever had killed Marlow was a pro.
Ogres were frequently hired for such matters, so in reality that inference didn’t take us much further along in the investigation, but it did tighten the link to Robbie and his people. I didn’t love that.
In lieu of a lead, I’d have to dig into the victim – in a different way from the killer. And I had what I hoped would be an excellent source: Kassandra Scholes, the witch Symposium member.
She answered after a few rings. ‘Stacy! Nice to hear from you, love. How are you?’
I winced. She thought this was a social call. ‘I’m good, thanks. You?’
‘Same old, same old. When were you going to tell me you’re dating High King Krieg?’
I groaned. A few weeks ago, The Mystic Informer had outed Krieg and me as dating.
He didn’t love it because he worried about his enemies coming for me.
I didn’t love it because no one except us deserved to know a damn thing about our personal lives – friends and family excluded, and Kass was definitely one of them.
She absolutely deserved to learn about the relationship from me, not through a news article.
‘Sorry. It’s new,’ I said finally.
‘Not that new. It’s in the bloody papers!’ Her voice shifted from exasperation to concern. ‘Do you know what you’re doing, Ace? He’s a dangerous man.’
I huffed. ‘I wish people would stop treating me like I’m some sort of defenceless fluffy kitten.’
‘You’re not defenceless, that’s for sure,’ she snickered. ‘But still … an ogre? The king of them, no less? That’s going to complicate your professional life.’
‘Which neatly brings me to the reason for my call. Talking of complicating professional lives, I’m about to screw yours … Theodore Marlow is dead.’
‘Well shit,’ she murmured. I could imagine her now, rubbing her brow as she frowned.
Though her voice held a note of consternation, I didn’t detect any great upset. ‘Were you friends?’ I asked, though I was all but certain the answer to that was no. If they had been, she would have broken down into tears. Kass was tough, but she loved with her whole heart.
‘No, I’m still the new kid on the block, trying to work out which way is up,’ she admitted. ‘He’s halfway through his term and knows what he’s doing, which palms to grease.’
‘Has he had to grease palms recently?’
Kass snorted. ‘When didn’t he? But yeah, he just got a bill passed through the initial stages. He seemed passionate about it.’
‘Which bill?’
‘A law to bring in licenses for private atmospheric manipulation.’
A headache started in my temples, and I wasn’t in the mood for political mumbo jumbo. ‘Spell it out for me, Kass.’
‘It’s a bill focused on the elementals. Right now, anyone who can afford an elemental’s fee can buy water, fire, earth, or wind work on the open market.
It’s an informal arrangement – contracts carried out by freelance elementals are negotiated privately, paid in cash or in favours.
That means fast service for those who can pay, but wildly inconsistent standards and zero legal oversight.
The Connection wants to bring in some rules, some accountability.
Stop damned cowboys from making it storm in August for fun or profit. ’
‘And Marlow was against it?’
‘No, Teddy was all for it, and we all knew why. He had a half share in an aerometric firm that would be in a damned good position to snag any government-sanctioned contracts.’
I kept my expression neutral ‘Surely most air elementals would be against such a move?’
‘Oh absolutely. The licensing will reduce their profits, increase their taxes and overheads, and subject them to additional scrutiny.’
I pinched the bridge of my nose. ‘So by voting the way he did, he essentially screwed over his own people?’
‘Yeah. It wasn’t a popular move – the elementals don’t want additional oversight – but I guess the call of his own pocket was too tempting. He betrayed his constituents and voted in line with his personal interests.’
‘I hate politicians,’ I groused.
‘Hey!’
‘Current company excluded,’ I added hastily.
‘All right, I’d better go and do some damage control, speak to Jamie Trowbridge.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘Teddy’s second on the Symposium. He’ll be stepping into the breach. He’s a good guy though. I suspect he’ll try to reverse Teddy’s vote.’
‘Can he do that?’
‘In politics, anyone can do anything with enough capital.’
It was a depressing sentiment.
‘Talk to me about Jamie Trowbridge.’
She baulked. ‘You can’t think he’s got anything to do with this!’
‘I have no idea. You know as well as I do the lengths people will go to for power. Murder is the least of it.’
‘Jamie wouldn’t do that. He’s one of the good guys.’ She sounded short, affronted. I’d upset her.
Her voice was brittle when she said, ‘I’ve got to go, Stacy. Speak soon?’
Because I didn’t want to end things like that, I hastily said, ‘Definitely. Maybe a wine night with Stevie?’
‘Sounds good,’ she said, and it sounded like she meant it. ‘It’s been too long, Ace.’
‘It has. Kass?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Keep me in the loop, okay?’
‘You got it.’ She hung up.
Well, she’d given me the information I needed all right. Marlow had screwed over his own people, and in doing so, the suspect pool had opened up wide.