Chapter 7 #2
So they wanted a nice story to tell the public. A better explanation than a surgeon’s assistant turned assassin. More importantly, they wanted me to snitch.
“Set up the Scribe,” he ordered a guard. In the far corner, near the tapestries, a small table stood off on its own. On top, there was a metal box, which the copper opened to reveal a microphone and tape feeding through a pair of discs.
“What is…”
A light turned on, and the discs began to turn. A recording device, and every word I spoke would be on record.
The Commissioner then started his official questions. “I’d like to begin with my original concerns. A crime like this couldn’t possibly have been committed alone. Who are you working for?”
A bitter taste coated my tongue at the idea of dragging anyone else into this.
Even if Bernard had been to blame for today’s mistakes, outing him or Mattie or Maurice wouldn’t change a thing.
My life in this city was over, no matter if they let me go or not.
My gaze fell to the moth-eaten rug beneath the Commissioner’s desk.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Cassien. I work alone.”
“Then where were you taking the body?”
I shrugged. “To the cliffs near the coast. Where I toss the rest of my victims.”
Cassien frowned. “You were sighted yesterday. Same cart. Same load. Not exactly on the way to the cliffs. Who helps you?”
Sweat slicked my spine. “It rained hard yesterday. I didn’t go to the cliffs. Figured I’d steal a boat and dump them in the inlet.”
The Commissioner nodded to someone behind me before I even finished my lie. The silent command ushered in a witness, and I cursed to myself when Mattie was dragged beside my chair and forced to his knees, his hands bound in cuffs.
“Note that Matthieu Romano has entered the hearing room,” Cassien spoke to the Scribe.
“Nina?” Matthieu whispered. His blue eyes widened as they found me. “What have you done?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard by now,” I said.
“But the Governor? Hell, Nina. How did you… I mean, what have you gotten yourself into?”
Cassien cleared his throat, returning the conversation to what mattered. “Do you know her full name, Mr. Romano?”
Matthieu’s mouth opened and shut thoughtfully before he replied. “No. I only know her from the surgery. My father is a patient of Dr. Broussard.”
The Commissioner’s brow arched. “You work with the surgeon in the Fissures?”
“She’s his apprentice,” Matthieu spoke for me. I shot him a warning glare, but he didn’t spare me a glance to catch it. “She’s worked for Dr. Broussard for years. Nina is good at what she does. Probably a better surgeon than Broussard at this point.”
“And how are you involved with the accused beyond your father’s status as her patient?” Cassien asked.
“She…” He faltered, realizing in a moment the consequences of his confession.
“Tell him, Mattie. You won’t be getting anything more from me anyway.”
He sighed, continuing. “My father is very sick, and I can’t always afford his prescriptions. Nina gives them to me for free in exchange for… using my canal access and my boat.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know what she was moving around, I swear.”
“You never asked,” I murmured. “Busy doing other things.” His tongue in my cheek. His hand down my pants. Too many distractions for him to wonder about the cargo.
Matthieu squirmed under the weight of the guard’s hands on his shoulders. He stared at the Commissioner with tear-filled eyes. “Honest, sir. It was just a deal. And I would have never struck a bargain with her had I known she was a murderer.”
Cassien shifted his glare between us, but I ignored it.
Instead, I focused on a gash that marred the front of the desk, like someone had kicked it, and forced down the emotion welling in my own eyes.
My heart hardened, rendered completely unfeeling, as I swallowed down the bitter betrayal of a friend.
We’d never given what we had a title. There was no reason to.
I knew he was just saving his own skin, saving his father in the process.
But listening as he distanced himself from me hurt more than I could have predicted.
The evidence of how meaningless I truly was to him laid out before me and recorded forever.
The Commissioner pulled a paper from the right drawer of his desk and signed it, handing it to a nearby guard. “Take this warrant and turn the place over. Arrest Broussard if he’s still around and put out a search for him if he’s not. I want every inch of that place scoured.”
I didn’t know how long I’d been in their custody, but I hoped it had been enough to give Bernard and my mother some time to get away. Rumors spread fast in this city, and my crimes would be the topic of every conversation by now.
“Get him out of here.” Cassien gestured to Matthieu. “This won’t be the last we speak to you, Mr. Romano. If you try to leave the city, you’ll be detained.”
“Yes, sir,” he clipped, before stumbling to his feet. I don’t think he even spared me a second glance as they dragged him from the room.
The Commissioner finally stood from his leather chair and rounded the desk, leaning against the front to stare down at me directly. “Nina, you’re in real trouble. You know that, right?”
“I knew the risk when I started,” I told him. The wet heat of suppressed tears sneaked from my eyes and trailed down my cheeks. I lowered my head and stared at my lap to hide them.
“No one is convinced you did this alone. Who are you working with? There are rogue engineers who defected from the Academy. Have any of them contacted you?”
I shook my head. “Not that I’m aware.”
He took a placating breath. “Well, there are plenty of gangs that would love to undermine the order in our city. The Cursed, perhaps? If you’re protecting one of them, then you should know you’re a fool.
Because whoever you’re working for will get off scot-free for this crime, and you’ll be punished in their rightful place. ”
“I’m not working for the Cursed,” I mumbled.
“Then who? Tell me, Nina, and I can make a lot of your problems disappear.” He held up his pen and flourished it. Suggesting that he could sign away all the charges against me.
“There’s a man who buys the bodies. That’s all I can tell you,” I admitted. Betrayed by Mattie, and with coppers already on the way to the surgery, there was little left for me to protect. “I don’t know if he’s even a man, to be honest.”
“A buyer?” Cassien looked interested now. “Are they here in the city? Who takes the bodies to him?” When I answered him with more silence, he stomped his boot, sending a sharp jolt of surprise up my spine. “Who is next in your chain of command?”
I would never give up Maurice, not when he had been good to me for so many years. This man wasn’t going to make me rat on a hardworking, kindhearted fisherman. “I told you, I don’t know anything else.”
The Commissioner’s features sharpened with anger. The hand holding his pen squeezed until it cracked. “Fine. Turn off the Scribe.”
There was a commotion behind me, though I couldn’t turn to see what was happening.
The guard nearest the table shut off the recording device and took a tape from a slat inside the box before placing it on the Commissioner’s desk.
Another approached, leaning forward to murmur something I couldn’t make out.
“He’s here? Right now?” Cassien asked, his thick brows pinching.
The guard nodded once.
The Commissioner sucked his teeth, staring at me. “Then send him in, of course. I can’t refuse him.”
Cassien stood when the doors behind us opened, and several pairs of quiet footsteps entered the busy room.
A figure passed me, wearing a pearly white overcoat with shimmering runes stitched into the edges.
The fabric was fine enough to slide soundlessly across the hardwood, but heavy enough to drag.
Though I’d never seen him before, I’d heard rumors.
This could only be the Magister, the head of the Academy and the leading voice on the Council.
The most powerful man in the city. I had never seen beyond the Academy’s outer rim, the spires behind the wall bordering the campus and the upper district, but there was no mistaking the shift in the air as he arrived.
The Magister wore a hood over his head, preventing a proper view of him until he made it behind the Commissioner’s desk. Cassien faced him, placing a fist across his heart in salute. The Magister accepted this with a nod of his head but didn’t return the gesture.
His eyes found me then.
Those who lived in the Upper District, those with Archetypes and their bloodlines especially, were often extravagant in their fashion, decorating their clothes with gleaming gold or rare quicksilver.
Their suits were cut in asymmetrical designs with ribbons and chains and gems decorating their lapels, their necks, their wrists.
But the Magister’s attire was simpler: split sleeves that revealed a crimson lining to his overcoat.
Five thin chains connecting the edges of his robes, decorating a white, quilted tunic with brassy stitching.
A wide hood fell across both his thin shoulders.
He was a small man, slim and graceful compared to the bulky stature of Cassien.
Though I supposed working with books instead of thugs kept him lithe.
The room went quiet as power and tensions shifted.
“Magister Reven,” the Commissioner started. “It is… unexpected to see you here.”
“Is it?” He still stared at me as he spoke, dark eyes shadowed under his hood by the glare of the lamps. “We have the representative of the Council dead in the middle of the Old City, Commissioner. I think it’s more than necessary I be involved in the questioning of…”
He stared at me and let his voice trail off, as if I were supposed to finish his sentence. “Nina,” I said quietly. The weight of his attention made it difficult to breathe.