Chapter 1.7 Morning in the capital

 

As the main dinner came to an end, and they began to drink tea, Catherine de Graaf asked Mike, "What have you found out about the current investigation Mike?"

"Yes, we have begun the investigation, but we haven't found out much yet," Mike said. "With your permission, I will repeat some of the information for Lady Anabelle."

"Thank you," Lady Anabelle says to him.

"So," Mike began. "It began with dispatching Captain Crocan to the kingdom of Irid to conduct an investigation. He travels along the Acheron River almost to his destination and the rest of the way by land. But he didn't make it to the Kingdom of Irid, stopping halfway in Artea. Two days later he was dead. At night, during a drunken bar brawl, the captain received a fatal wound. His кiller was immediately detained at the crime scene. Why he was in that bar is still unknown."

Catherine and Anabelle closely followed his story.

"A team of two investigators went to Artea. Upon arrival, they began their investigation. They examined Captain Crocan's body and his belongings. They found nothing out of the ordinary. Captain Drake arranged a meeting with the arrested murderer. But it did not take place, the captain did not show up at the appointed time. No one has seen him since. The local authorities and our own people have found nothing."

Mike took a breath and continued.

"Captain Crocan is 70 years old, has no family, and lives alone in a rented apartment. Good reviews in the service, careerist, diligent, and non-confrontational. Fourteen years in the service. Considered his last assignment a good opportunity for himself. No record of any violations or reprimands. Had a couple of missions in central countries."

The Dark Race was one of the longest-living races on the continent. Their average lifespan ranged from 300 to 500 years, depending on the rank of magical power.

"Captain Drake is 130 years old, married. Lives in his own house. His wife and two sons live apart. 40 years in the service. Got good reviews, too. But hot-tempered, had a couple of conflicts with his superiors. He applied for a transfer to Internal Investigations a few years ago. But he received a rejection. Had a dozen missions to central countries. The connection between them not found."

Mike took a short break at the end of his story. His throat was dry. He gestured to the maid, who was standing far enough away so as not to overhear their conversation. She came over and filled his cup with new tea and, as well, to Lady Catherine de Graaf and Lady Anabelle. Then the maid left after a short bow.

"We must visit the places where they lived and talk to Captain Drake's family. Then question their coworkers and superiors tomorrow."

"No connections to the Magical Enclave or the Holy Empire?" Lady Anabelle asked.

"No direct or indirect yet," Mike replied. "But Captain Drake has worked in countries with Holy Empire influence a couple of times. But I'm pretty sure we won't find anything here in the capital."

"I thought so," Lady Anabelle said.

"Mike, have you thought about who you're going to take with you to Artea to investigate?" Lady Catherine asked him.

"Not yet. Of the locals, I'd take the fewest. Yes, and Tirel can be against it. Better to take an outside group from the countryside. I haven't decided yet."

"You don't have much time. If you need someone in Artea, let me know in advance. You can let me or my deputies know directly."

"Bypassing Colonel Tirel?" Surprised Mike.

"Yes," Lady Catherine confirmed her words.

"Okay, Lady Catherine, I'll prepare a possible list."

By this time, everything on the table was eaten. Not a single bun remains. The tea cups were also empty.

"Okay, Mike, let's not keep you any longer. It's late already," Catherine told him. "I took care of everything. A horse-drawn carriage will take you back home."

Mike stood up and bowed. "Lady Catherine, Lady Anabelle goodnight to you."

"Michael, I don't think Captain Drake is dead yet," Lady Anabelle said suddenly. "Or rather, only his body is dead. I wish I were wrong, but I'm almost certain of it."

"That's…" Mike was surprised. "Well, I'll take your word for consideration."

Mike bowed again. A maid came over and gestured for him to follow her. He turned and followed her.

 

Both women followed Mike out with a glance.

"What a good boy," Lady Anabel said with a smile as Mike left.

Lady Catherine did not expect to hear that and turned quickly.

"I'm not giving it away. Not yet…," she said and paused, realizing to whom she said it. She bowed quickly. "I'm sorry milady. He's too young."

Anabelle laughed.

"Don't apologize. He will come on his own. And sooner than you think."

Lady Catherine stared at her in surprise.

 "Did something serious happen? You saw something."

"Nothing major yet. But you know I'm not all-powerful. I have a feeling something is about to happen."

"I'll increase my observation, milady."

"Catherine, baby, stop calling me milady. Call me by my name. After all, we're old friends," Anabelle smiled.

Catherine sighed. If only it were that simple.

"And you shouldn't intensify observation. You'll only speed things up, but you won't be able to change anything anyway. Soon your hands will be tied up."

"What do you mean milady?"

"You have a National Assembly meeting coming up. I think some complications await you there."

"Yes, you are right mil… Anabelle."

In the Dark Empire, the Council of the largest clans ruled. The legislative body, in this case, is the National Assembly. The National Assembly, like the Clan Council, meets twice a year in the capital. And soon there will be the next meeting.

"Thank you for dinner, Catherine. I don't often get a chance to remember what it's like to eat dinner at home. Unfortunately, with time, both memory and feeling came dull. And don't worry about Michael, I'll keep an eye on him. All right, I'll see you later."

"Yes, Anabel. Goodbye," Lady Catherine said, a little embarrassed goodbye.

Lady Anabelle's body literally evaporated like a cloud, leaving not even a hint that anyone was sitting across from Lady Catherine.

 

The carriage stopped outside the house.

"We have arrived, sir," the coachman said to Mike.

"Thank you," Mike told him and got off the carriage. "Good night to you."

"Good night to you too, sir," the coachman said and drove off.

Mike stood alone in the street. It was past midnight. There were hardly any people or carriages on the streets anymore, but the street itself was well-lit by street lights all night.

He stood for a minute looking around the street. He saw no one suspicious and headed into the house.

 

13th day of the 5th month of the year 50143

 

Early morning, somewhere on the outskirts of the capital. A small vacant lot next to the road. Forest on both sides. A pre-dawn gloom. Heavy, dense fog.

A freight wagon stands in the wasteland. Two large tall men in raincoats and hoods stand near her and smoke. A lone lantern behind the wagon weakly illuminates a small patch of ground.

"Where are they Steve," one says to the other and looks at the wristwatch. "They should have been here half an hour ago."

"How do I know Stan," replied the other. "I didn't make the deal."

“If they don’t come in half an hour, I’ll slaughter that lying pig. Brr, I'll be an ice cube in here soon."

“Okay, Stan, another half an hour and we'll be back. It's dangerous to stay any longer. It'll be dawn soon."

Somewhere in the distance, a horse neighed.

"Maybe it's them," Stan asked.

"Quiet," Steve cut him off. " Keep your eyes open."

The horse neighed again. And Steve thought he heard the clatter of wheels and then a door opening.

"Sounds like a carriage," he told Stan.

A lantern was lit nearby, but because of the heavy fog, it was impossible to see anything.

"I hope it's them," Stan said quietly.

"Be ready," Steve said as he unbuttoned his cloak and unbuckled his belt holster. Stan followed his example. Both had mechanical revolvers on one side and elbow-length daggers on the other side. Both were wearing army uniforms under their raincoats.

After some time, it was possible to distinguish two figures approaching them, one taller and the other shorter with a lantern. When they got within a few meters, Steve was finally able to see them. The smaller one matched the description they have. He was grey-skinned, short, and thin, with short greyish-brown hair and greyish-brown eyes. Nickname Kelp. The second one didn't fit the description. At all. Tall, swarthy, dressed in an expensive suit with silver embroidery, lacquered black shoes, and a white cane, the handle of which resembled a wolf's head.

Steve didn't like the tall one. Just looking at him sent a chill down his spine and the cold blue eyes only added to the feeling. And he was completely calm, unlike the nervous Kalp.

"Kalp, who is this? The deal was different," Steve was the first to start talking to strangers.

"Stan and Steve. Right?" Kalp asked instead of answering.

"He's Stan. I'm Steve," Steve corrected him.

"I'll take Baldy's place," the dandy replied coldly.

"And who are you?"

"I'm their Boss," the dandy replied dismissively.

"Boss?"

"Yeah, what's unclear about that?"

There was something about the dandy's manner of speech and clothing that Steve didn't like. He tried his best to sound like an irritated young lord. But Steve noticed that his eyes were too cold, even unnaturally cold. Besides, his cane was not new at all, unlike his clothes.

"Okay Mr. Boss, you brought the money?" Steve asked and turned to Kalp.

"Yes. 100 golds each, as agreed," Brown said and nodded at his Boss.

Steve looked back at the Boss. On his belt, he noticed a purse embroidered with gold.

"Where're the goods?" A Boss asked him.

"In the wagon," Stan replied.

“Well, get it here," a Boss said impatiently, looking at Stan.

Stan looked at Steve, who nodded affirmatively. Stan walked over to the wagon and pulled back the covers. A minute later he lowered a heavy wooden box with a lock to the ground.

"Open it."

Steve reached into his pocket, pulled out a key, and handed it to Stan. Stan unlocked the lock and opened the lid. And then he stepped back a little. The box contained two round objects 20 centimeters in diameter, with a central part, 6 centimeters in diameter, slightly extending by a couple of centimeters.

“Two army mines. As we agreed. Now the money."

"Yes, yes, of course," Boss assured him and smiled.

Steve didn't like his smile, not sincere at all, but rather predatory with sadism. And when the Boss' hand reached for his purse, he became frightened and activated his shield.

What happened next shocked Steve. Instead of untying and handing over the purse, Boss swung his cane carelessly in the direction of Stan and Steve. At the same moment, Steve's protective shield flared brightly. The shield held, but the ring on his finger got very hot. He heard a muffled wheeze to his left. When he turned his head, he saw Stan crouching and falling on his back. His friend has a long, deep wound across his chest. Blood gushed out from the wound. It was so terrible that through the scraps of clothes you could see the protruding pieces of the ribs. Quite mechanically, without even having time to turn his head back, he took out a revolver and shot several times at the Boss.

To his surprise, Boss was intact, without a single scratch. He held his arm outstretched forward with an active shield. Fired bullets were visible, they flattened against the shield and fell to the ground in a second.

"Wow," Boss said with a wide smile. "I didn't expect that."

Before Steve could say anything, Boss was next to him, and his cane was pressing against Steve's still-active shield. There was a loud crack as Steve's shield shattered, as did the ring on his charred finger. But before he could realize what had happened, his throat pierced something hard and his eyes darkened.

The Boss' cane pierced through Steve's throat, completely destroying the vertebrae and trachea. With a sharp movement, he pulled out the cane, and Steve's body began to slowly fall to its side. Blood gushed from the hole in his throat. They were both dead.

The boss examined the bodies and then turned to Kalp, who stood in fear.

"Gather their weapons and take them to the carriage," he ordered Kalp.

He didn't move and stayed where he was. The Boss raised his cane at him.

"What did I tell you?"

The Kalp shuddered slightly at the sight of the cane. But the threat worked. He came out of his stupor.

"Yes, sir," he said, bowing a little lower than necessary. " I'll do it now."

He quickly ran to the corpses and, being careful not to get dirty with still-warm blood, took out their weapons. He also searched their pockets and removed Steve's watch and wallet. And then quickly took everything back to the carriage.

When he returned, Stan's body was already blazing, as if doused with a combustible liquid. Kalp noticed a large clot of scarlet flame in the Boss's hand, who then threw this flame into Steve's body. It touched the body and spread over it. A second later, this body was on fire, too. From the sight of burning hair and eyes bursting from the temperature, he became ill. And as soon as the smell of burnt meat reached him, he immediately vomited, twisting in half.

"Take the box to the carriage," the Boss ordered him when Kalp finally got his stomach under control.

Kalp, covering his nose from the smell, locked the heavy box with a key and quickly carried it to the carriage. All this time, the Boss remained in place and Kalp returned to him again.

"What's next sir," he asked him, still covering his nose.

With a movement of his cane, the Boss pointed to the wagon. Bowing, Kalp took a step towards the wagon. But the next moment, the Boss struck him with a cane just below the shoulder blades, right in the spine. In the next moment, Kalp's chest exploded. Scattering blood and organ remains flew forward for several meters. The body fell to the ground, broken in half like a rag doll. Parts of it flew even to the wagon.

“Heh. What a sloppy job,” Boss smiled broadly. But such a job he clearly liked.

He inspected his cane to make sure it was not dirty, and then returned to the carriage to see if he had taken everything. After making sure everything was in order, he ordered the carriage driver to leave. And as soon as the carriage door closed, the carriage started moving.

 

Mike woke up rather late, at half-past six. He quickly freshened up and went downstairs, where he made himself some tea. Half an hour later Mike was ready to go to work.

His group got a separate cabinet. The room was spacious, three by five meters, but to Mike's disappointment, without windows. It was lit by four large ceiling lights, one of which, however, shone faintly. There were tables along the walls.

"Good morning," Mike said as he entered.

"Good morning, sir."

Captain Chester Nights and Lieutenant Alex Crowley were already in the room, along with another girl he didn't know.

The girl was young, probably a recent graduate. She was from the de Tarro clan that controlled the Ministry of Industry. Why she chose to work for them in the ministry instead, he did not know.

"You must be Lieutenant Caroline de Tarro," he addressed the stranger.

"That's right, sir," she replied. Tall with long dark hair, brown eyes, and dark skin. Typical northerner.

"Do you know that you would be assisting me in the investigation?"

"Yes, sir."

Mike looked around the cabinet. His gaze caught on an empty desk. Two of his subordinates were missing.

"Good. Where are Shtof and Pryte? They haven't been there yet," Mike asked.

"They went to see Captain Drake's wife and children this morning," Captain Nights answered him.

"They were already at Drake's house yesterday, weren't they? He lives apart from his family, doesn't he?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did they have time to make a report?"

"Yes, Pryte brought it in this morning. It's on your desk, sir. I put our report on Captain Crocan on your desk yesterday as well."

Mike walked over to his desk. On it was a fresh stack of papers. Probably the mentioned reports.

"In a few words, please," he asked Captain Nights.

"Nothing, sir. Captain Crocan's house is clear. We didn't find anything of interest to us. Only a few bills came to him, that's all."

"All right, I'll look at the reports," Mike said, then turned to Carolina. "Lieutenant, have you had time to study the case?"

"Not yet, sir. I'm just going over the materials right now," she replied.

He looked at her desk and the papers she had laid out for a few seconds. It was obvious that she was diligently studying the case.

"Good, keep studying," Mike told her and then turned to Nights. "Captain, I think you need to talk to Captain Crocan's coworkers and superiors. Go see them in the department. If there's anything interesting, then invite them over for a thorough talk. I think we will devote the second half of the day to this."

 "Yes, sir."

 

Closer to lunchtime, Captain Shtof and Lieutenant Pryte returned.

"Good afternoon, sir," they said to Mike.

"How was your visit?"

"Nothing significant. Captain Drake's wife hasn't seen him in a while, about three months. Don't know anything about his trip to Artea. One of his sons says the same thing. The other son is not in the capital at the moment. He should be back in about twenty days. All in all, nothing suspicious."

"I see," said Mike. "Then you'll just have to talk to their coworkers and superiors."

"Yes, sir. We'll do that right away."

At that moment, Aireen entered the cabinet. When she saw Mike, she immediately headed toward him.

"Mike, it's good to have you here," she said. “You need to urgently pass the physical, magical, and combat training attestation, as well as the psychological test.”

Mike seemed surprised to hear that. Even though it was to be expected, he thought the colonel would give him at least a couple of days, maybe a week. He was wrong.

"Urgently? Is this an order from the colonel? Mike asked her.

"Yes."

"When?"

"Today or tomorrow."

Mike sighed deeply. He hadn't expected such petty meanness from Colonel Tirel.

“Okay, thanks, Aireen. I'll take care of it now," Mike told her, then turned to the others, "You have a task. Toward evening we will hold another meeting and discuss what to do next.

"Alright sir," they answered in unison.