64. Nemo tenetur
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“Well, then. Elizabeth, right?”

“Yes,” the young woman answered in a small voice.

“Tell me, how often do you go to the forest?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Approximately.”

“Twice every ten? Maybe?”

“What are you doing there?”

She sank her head and murmured something.

“I can’t hear you,” I said in a calm tone, but with a promise of violence in my voice.

“I gather materials for the potions…” She shrank as if she wanted to become as small as she could. As if that could shield her from me. I slowly, meticulously started to lay my equipment on the table. Knives. Clamps. Needles. An iron rod. Hammers. She watched, entranced and horrified by the sight.

“Do you want to know what these are for?” I asked, almost whispering.

“I… I…” she stammered.

“Then start talking dammit!” I yelled into her face. “Tell me what I want to know!”

“But… but…”

“What kind of potions are you making?! Who do you sell them to?! Why did you curse the children?!”

“I never!”

“Then who did it?!”

“I don’t know! I don’t know!”

“What kind of potions?!”

She was sobbing now, making her words unintelligible. I shot a pleading look to Jim. Do the good cop part already! He sighed, rolled his eyes, and put his hand on my shoulder.

“Easy now. Easy, Arnold. You see, the lady is very compliant. Ms, there is no need to be afraid. Just tell us everything you know. I promise that no one will hurt you. We just want to know the truth. We want to catch the one who cursed the children. If you are not responsible, wouldn’t it be also your wish for this to happen?”

“Yes…” she mumbled. “Yes, of course.”

Jim gently wiped away her tears. I stood up, went to the window, and looked out on the dark street.

“I am making all sorts of potions,” Elizabeth said, after Jim got to calm her down. She was still frightened to death, going by her voice. I didn’t think she would try to hide anything now. “Simple potions. Potions that can help to work harder. Or the ones that cure small diseases. That sort of potions. And I am selling them to everyone.”

“I hear that you are a seamstress by trade. Why did you start brewing potions?”

“Because my mother…” her voice broke down again. I saw her putting her hands before her mouth. “Because my mother… she is ill… and…”

“That’s all right,” said Jim hurriedly. “What do you know about the children? You know they play a lot in the woods. Do you meet them sometimes? Do you know where they play?”

“I try to avoid them. They make fun of me and throw rocks at me. But I know where they like to play. There is a big oak tree where they built a house among the branches. There is also the glade where they play rounders. And in the winter, they are sleighing on the hill that was cleared.”

“Do you think something in the forest could curse them?”

“No,” she shook her head. “The guard and the woodsmen have hunted down all the dangerous beasts long ago. That’s why I dare to go alone.”

“One last question,” I said, leaning to the window. Elizabeth shrunk back when she heard my voice. “Who taught you to make potions?”

“No one!” she said, panic rising in her voice. “I learnt from myself!”

“You mean you learnt from books,” I said. “Books like that are expensive. I won’t believe for a second that you have the money to buy even one. Who gave you the books?”

She was looking at me with tears in her eyes, shaking her head.

“Ysabel did,” I guessed, and I saw in her eyes that it was the truth.

“She would never do such a thing,” Elizabeth said with sudden fierceness. “When my mother went mad, and when the townspeople started to say she should be locked away, Ysabel came to me and helped us. She never made fun of me. She never laughed at me. She always wanted to help.”

“So, you say Mathilda is our witch?” I asked derisively. “The old woman, who worked for this town in her whole life? Now she would turn against it?”

“I don’t know who cursed the children,” asserted Elizabeth. “But it was not Ysabel. She is a good person.”

She is so good that she might have set you up as her cat’s-paw. Anyway, time to face the last one!

“Sergeant Velario!”

The guard stammered in.

“Yessir.”

Velario’s eyes were baulking so hard I was surprised he hadn’t stumbled yet in his own leg. Maybe he did, considering the mud on his uniform.

“Have you been drinking, man?”

“Just a little, sir. It never hurts if you does it with sense, sir. I knows to stay sober, when me is on duty, sir.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Well. He is not your soldier, Publius. He is not even a soldier. Calm down. You don’t have to do anything about this.

I looked again at him. His equipment was shoddy, his jersey caked in dirt, his face unshaven. All my officer-senses were tingling.

Nope, that’s too much.

“Jim,” I turned to the tiefling. “Take the lady back to her cell. I would like to have some private words with the gentleman here.”

 

Half an hour later, after Velario has been washed up, Morreio led in Ysabel. I did not fancy to play the part of the forceful investigator again. Elizabeth’s tears and very real fear took all the fun out of that game. Or maybe she was playing us both? I wondered. Perhaps she is laughing at the two bumbling idiots who will let her get away?

Maybe. Anyway, after I have already been rough on the two other suspects, it would have felt unjust not to try to frighten the third one.

I slammed my fist into the table. I was starting to get the knack of it, how to cause the loudest noise while inflicting the least amount of pain on myself.

“Why have you cursed the children?!”

“Oh. I did?” she asked. She was an older woman, at the end of her thirties probably, but still beautiful. She was also aloof, silent, bored. Her eyelids were always half-closed as if she would be tormented by perpetual drowsiness.

“I can’t see Mathilda doing it. She lives for this town. As for Elizabeth? That girl doesn’t have a mean bone in her. We already know you did it. We just want to know why, and how.”

“You have evidence against me then,” she said softly.

“Every child that got ill received a toy from you. This illness never appeared before you moved here. You have connections with shady, criminal organisations that are neck-deep in the smuggling-business. You are in possession of forbidden tomes and scrolls.” Half of the accusations were based on rumours Beldrak collected, but it did not matter whether they were true or not. If Ysabel can bring evidence to disprove them, that will also help our investigation. “From my point of view, you are as good as already burnt,” I snarled at last.

“I am being slandered here,” she smiled lazily. “And my well-respected business partners too.”

“Then explain how is that that all the children contracted the disease received toys from you shortly before they fell ill.”

“I have given toys every child in the town,” she shrugged. “I am generous with my wealth, and I like kids. If the toys are responsible, why aren’t they all ill?”

“If these toys are so fucking harmless,” I growled, “why to ask the children to keep quiet about them?! Why not give them through the parents, as any sane person would?!”

“I am sure the children told you my reasons behind that. I loathe bragging. If that is all, can I go now?”

My attempts to frighten her after that remained fruitless. Similarly, Jim couldn’t get anything useful out of her either with his silkier approach.

It has been a while since I used a Latin title, so I thought I would bring one now. The whole phrase is “nemo tenetur se ipsum accusare”. “No one is bound to accuse himself.”

Well, no one must, but if we know we are guilty, it might be wiser to admit our crimes. I, for example, fully acknowledge my crimes against the English language, which is why I ask help from my editors, and you, Dear Reader. Similarly, I try not to shy away from the responsibility that saturating and cropping a Rubens entails.

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