Pendant of Fortune (23 page)

Archie was opening the door as Nero said this, and held it open for the large wolf. “I’ll just take this right back, then?”

“
Please.” Nero strolled into the parlor, gesturing for Volle to follow him.

When he showed Volle into the small room that reeked of blood, Volle went straight for the hole. Streak’s scent was even stronger on this side, which was puzzling, given that the wolf couldn’t have gone through it and wouldn’t have had any reason to be there—unless he was chasing the real murderer and covering for him for some reason. “You noticed this, right?”

“
Of course.” Nero flicked his ears, as if annoyed that Volle would even suggest he had missed something. “Despite his clear scent mark on it, it is too small for a wolf to pass through. The victim might have managed it, but it was her room anyway and she could hardly have crawled in after she died.”

“
Could she have been injured and crawled back here?”

“
A good theory, but unsound. Her throat was cut, and the murder weapon found here. She did not live more than a minute before dying. As a matter of fact, the murder weapon is one of the things we would like you to examine.” He motioned Volle over and pointed at a long pair of leather-handled scissors on the ground, the dull metal finish of the blades stained with the same black as the floor. “Are those familiar?”

Volle knelt to look, bringing a sharp, “Please don’t touch them” from the wolf.

“
I won’t. I’m just making sure. No, I don’t recognize them at all.” He could smell the wolf on the scissors, though, a surprisingly strong scent even considering the leather handles.

Nero nodded. “You have your own grooming scissors?”

“
Of course. Longer than these.” He waved at his tail.

“
Quite. As are mine.” Nero swished his own tail.

Volle stood. “Quite,” he echoed, and then shook his head. “Anyway, the scissors aren’t mine. Or Streak’s. Though they have his scent on them, that’s for sure. But it’s not his weapon, and he didn’t do it anyway.”

“
Yes, it’s not his weapon, and he claimed he didn’t touch it. Though he could easily have picked it up when he found the body and just forgotten it.” Nero stroked his muzzle thoughtfully. “He was not carrying a dagger when he was brought in. Does he usually?”

“
No, never.” Volle paused. “But if he were coming here to kill someone, wouldn’t he bring a dagger?”

Nero nodded curtly. “That is one of the points that I am reserving an opinion on. Very good. Take a sniff around the room and see what strikes you.”

Volle lowered his nose and walked slowly around the room, in the middle of which Archie returned. He stood outside the door when he saw what Volle was doing. “Were the scissors his?” Nero shook his head, watching Volle. “That rather complicates things, doesn’t it?”

“
Or illuminates them,” said the wolf cryptically.

He tried to read Nero’s expression, but the wolf was impassive, his ears straight up and not expressive at all. He couldn’t see Archie from where he was, either, so he went back to sniffing. When he’d made a circuit of the small room, he sighed and shook his head. “I get Dereath, Streak, you two, and a couple females.”

“
The victim and the chambermaid, most likely.”

“
I didn’t smell anyone else.” Volle’s shoulders slumped. He’d hoped he could’ve caught a scent that Nero had overlooked, even though the wolf’s nose was probably a bit more sensitive than his. “That leaves Dereath as the only other suspect.”

“
Lord Fardew was in the main corridor a moment after the screams were heard. He came up behind the servant, according to her.” Nero watched Volle’s glance stray to the hole. “He could have gotten out through that hole, but it would have taken some time and his clothes would have shown the marks of the stones. I don’t recall any such marks on his clothing that night. Do you, Archie?”

“
I wasn’t exactly eyeing his sartorial splendor, sir.”

“
Of course not. But you see how small details can be valuable to recollect later?”

“
I could hardly miss it.”

Volle looked at the doorway, where Archie wore an odd combination of a smirk and a respectful gaze. He tried to imagine Streak standing in that doorway, ears back, eyes determined, his body radiating purpose. He imagined the wolf crossing to the dresser, taking out the scissors, and—

“
I can’t believe it,” he said, half to himself. But again, he found himself wondering, if Streak thought it would be the only way to save him, would he? Could he? When he envisioned the wolf holding the scissors, his ears were still back, but his eyes were no longer determined. They held desperation and fear, and a resolve. He pictured the wolf stepping forward, hoping to get it over with, his victim turning, seeing him, screaming, and then the downward plunge of the scissors, and Volle half-cringed at the reality of his vision.

“
Believe it or don’t, as you like, but whatever he can tell us—tell
you
—will be important. I know, Archie, it might well be nothing critical, but I have a hunch it is at least something that will help crystallize our thinking. I dislike having incomplete information—”

Volle had heard the scratchings a second before Nero did, and turned with him to the door. Beyond Archie, who turned as well when he saw their muzzles move, the main door creaked open and Dereath stepped through.

He took in the scene quickly; Volle saw the twitch of his whiskers and wondered if Nero also caught the flash of annoyance that melted almost immediately into a bland smile. “Inspectors. Lord Vinton. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“
Lord Fardew, we were hoping to persuade you to allow Lord Vinton to visit the—Streak.”

Dereath folded his arms and smiled, just a bit. “The streak? Captain, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

Volle was sure Nero could hear the hint of mockery in Dereath’s reply. The large wolf’s ears flicked back and then forward again. “Streak, the prisoner suspected of killing Miss Malion.”

The name was new to Volle. He didn’t recognize it, but filed it away as he turned back to Dereath. The rat had turned his smile to Volle. “I might be willing to consider it. But I am aware that Lord Vinton wants to see the murderer at least as badly as you want him to, Captain Nero. If he’ll follow me into my chambers, I’ll discuss the terms of the visit with him. Alone.”

“
Sir, I believe this interview could be critical to the investigation…”

Dereath cut him off with a wave. “I am aware of your beliefs, Captain. I also know this fox, and I know how likely it is that he’ll provide you with a truthful account of the information he gathers.”

“
The Captain could accompany me,” Volle said stiffly, but Nero was shaking his head even as Dereath answered.

“
I hardly think your bloodthirsty friend would say anything with Nero present if he’s been reluctant to so far. No, it will be you alone, so we will have to discuss terms. Come.” Without waiting for an answer, he left the parlor through another door Volle couldn’t see from where he was standing.

Volle took a step toward the door, but Nero’s voice stopped him. “You might want to smooth your fur down, Lord Vinton.”

Taking a deep breath, Volle turned around, making an effort to relax. He hadn’t even noticed that his hackles were raised. “Thank you, Captain.”

The wolf’s eyes were calm and, Volle thought, perhaps sympathetic. “It is best to retain one’s composure at all times,” he said. “Most violent crimes are committed in moments of passion.” He glanced meaningfully at the scissors, and while Volle bridled at the implication, he realized that Nero was only trying to help him.

“
Thanks.” He took another deep breath and smoothed the fur down on the back of his neck with a paw. “I’ll try to keep my wits about me.”

“
Always the best course.” Nero remained solemn, but Volle thought he saw a twinkle in the wolf’s eyes. He walked past Archie, getting a pat on the back as he entered the parlor.

Dereath had brought a carpet, he noted as he walked across it to the door that led further into the rat’s quarters. It was soft and plush, and dyed black, and it did not seem to belong in the sparsely-furnished parlor, alongside the plain wooden chairs. Volle watched his feet disappear into the carpet’s pile and stayed at the edge of the carpet, toes flexing, while he regarded the door. It stood ajar, and he could smell Dereath’s distinctive odor in the air. Through the crack, he could see the same sort of ascetic furnishings that the rat had placed in the parlor: a plain wooden table and a wooden chair. He swayed back and forth, swishing his tail, and then took a deep breath and walked in.

“
Close the door behind you,” Dereath drawled.

Volle swung the door shut and looked around the small room that had clearly been appointed as Dereath’s study. The door on the opposite wall stood closed; probably the bedroom. To his left, a large oil painting of the King graced the stone wall alone. Dereath was sitting against the wall to his right, in a chair that was at least upholstered, if still rather old-looking. Volle reflected briefly on how large the procession carrying all the furniture to the castle must have been, then put that out of his mind. The only other chairs in the room were of the plain wooden variety, and though his legs were a bit tired, he opted to stand.

“
Have a seat.” Dereath shrugged when Volle shook his head. “As you wish.” His muzzle rested against one paw, propped up on the small wooden table next to him.

Volle folded his arms and stared at the rat, who looked back unperturbed. He didn’t want to be the first to bring up the subject, but eventually he realized that he would rather give up that slight advantage in order to get this over with. “What do you want from me?”

“
You understand what a risk this is.” Dereath was clearly enjoying himself. “I mean, letting a murder suspect’s lover have time alone with him. I wouldn’t even be considering it except that Captain Nero informs me that it might provide valuable evidence.” He examined his claws. “I have my doubts about that.”

“
What do you want?” Volle repeated.

“
Oh, Lord Vinton, one might almost think you were eager to leave my company. And here I am so enjoying yours.”

“
I’m sure you are.” Volle felt as though a spring were winding up inside him with every word Dereath spoke. He reminded himself of Nero’s admonition and took a deep breath.

“
In any event, such a delicate situation requires me to put my reputation on the line. As His Majesty’s highest officer and enforcer of his law, if something were to go wrong and a murderer go free…” He spread his paw out. “I don’t have to tell you what an embarrassment that would be. Especially given the impact on your hearing. I know you want that to go by the book.”

“
Of course.” Volle gritted his teeth.

“
So as I’m taking such a large risk in this enterprise, and you stand to benefit—if in fact it turns out that that wolf has some information that clears him—then it strikes me that it is only fair that I receive some benefit in kind. And I believe you should be willing to…how shall I put this? Accommodate me to a large degree.”

“
Oh, I don’t think your imposition would be very
large
.” Volle looked pointedly at the rat’s groin.

Dereath’s ears flattened, but only for a second. He smiled a nasty smile. “You’ll find out just how large it is. Here is what I want. You spend a night in my bed, doing anything I want, and the next morning, you can see your wolf for half an hour.”

“
A
night?!
” Volle sputtered. “You must be joking. Is this—are you that desperate?” Nero’s warning forgotten, he took a step forward. He hadn’t believed, when he’d made his previous comment, that Dereath would really stoop to extorting sex from him. His tail lashed against the doorframe.

“
Desperate?” Dereath’s eyes had narrowed slightly, but he kept his demeanor calm. “No, not desperate. Think of it more as a chance to show you what you passed up, all those years ago.”

Volle shook his head. The smell of the rat, already unpleasant, was nearly unbearable now. “Ask for something else.”

“
Like what?” Dereath’s whiskers twitched, and he showed his teeth. “A night with that wolf? I could have that now, if I wanted, you know.”

Volle stayed silent, trying to unclench his paws. He didn’t remember making fists. Dereath sneered at him, “No, I didn’t think so.” He leaned back. “My dear Lord Vinton, those are the terms and there is no negotiation.”

“
Then there is no deal.” Volle knew he was being rash, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t let Dereath win. He wheeled sharply, swung the door open, and stalked out into the parlor.