Strong Mystery: Murder, Mystery and Magic Books 1-3 (Steampunk Magica) (28 page)

“Hello,” Owen said to her with a smile. “And how are you?” The
woman looked at the floor, saying nothing.

Jimmy spoke up from where he stood. “That is the owner of the
restaurant. She is of no consequence.” Owen turned where he stood to regard
Jimmy.

“Then I believe that being the owner of this place makes her of
much consequence,” Owen said. He looked back to the restaurant owner. “It is
all right,” he said, “No harm shall come to you. What is your name?” The woman
looked up at him like a frightened deer. She scampered across the floor to
stand behind Jimmy the Horse, who glared at Owen. Owen looked across at Jinhao
who only shrugged wordlessly. Owen returned the gesture ruefully. He looked
over at Mike and Mary.

“Mike will you be a dear and bring Mary along,” Owen asked in a
breezy tone.

“Is that really necessary,” Mike asked him in cold tones.

“Oh, I believe that I really must insist,” Owen replied in the
same cheery manner. He looked at Mary, his voice changing to a gentler tone.
“You can bear this can you not? I would not ask if it were not important.” Mary
nodded silently, still clutching Mike close.

“Very well,” Owen said. He looked at Jimmy and his henchman Jo,
“Lead on please.”

~ ~ ~

Jinhao had never seen the banquet room before
.
It was a large well-appointed room with a large statue of Fu-Shoji in one
corner to bring luck and harmony to the dinners. The smells of the room told
her a tale of pain and death however. Her gaze came to rest on what appeared to
be a forlorn pile of burnt offerings on the floor near the head seat of the
long banquet table. Jimmy the Horse stood over it.

“There,” Jimmy said in a hoarse voice, hands clenching into
fists, then unclenching them. “There,” he repeated. “Now you see what that
Witch has done.” Owen came up beside him.

“I am sorry for your loss.” Owen said quietly. Jimmy spun on
him as if stung.

“Huang was a good soldier,” Jimmy said gruffly.

“Of course,” Owen murmured soothingly. He wondered why the gang
leader seemed so touchy about feeling bad about the death of a trusted
lieutenant, then dismissed the thought. How could he possibly know anything
about these strange waifs of the streets? Owen gestured behind them.

“Would you mind standing back so that I can examine him
please?” Jimmy nodded jerkily, and stepped back. Owen knelt beside the corpse,
looking at the burnt remains intensely. Then clicking his tongue in thought he
glanced down the length of the room. He raised his cane, passing it over the
body which became covered in a faint violet haze. Jimmy started towards him,
only to be stopped by a masked Jinhao quickly stepping in front of him.

“What are you doing to him?” Jimmy demanded. Owen replied
without looking up, his face a study in concentration.

“Every Magia emanation leaves its mark,” Owen explained
absently. “I am currently attempting to follow this one back to its source.
Would you mind standing back?” he repeated. The violet haze drifted up like
smoke in a strong breeze. Jinhao pushed the gang leader back, his eyes showing
their whites in amazement as the haze moved almost lazily down the length of
the hall. It came to stop in front of Mary who was still holding onto Mike,
both of their faces showing amazement and fear.

“I told you that the witch killed him!” John exclaimed
excitedly. He pulled his pistol hastily aiming it at her.

“Would everyone please calm down,” Owen said. “Mike, Mary would
you please step to the left.” The hostile gangers paused, their weapons out,
confused. Mike pulled an equally confused Mary to the left of where they stood.
The violet haze drifted past them both and stopped at the wall. Owen gave a
small sound of triumph. Carefully, he stood up, walking the length of the
banquet room to stand facing the far wall. He tapped the wall with a fist.

“I say, there appears to be something of a hidden doorway
here,” He said drily. The older woman stirred at word of Owen’s discovery.
“Jinhao,” he said lazily, “do not let our hostess leave. It seems to be no
surprise to her.” Jimmy the Horse stepped between a fearsome and masked Jinhao
and the old proprietor of the restaurant.

“Leave her alone,” he said. “She has nothing to do with this!”

“Indeed,” Owen purred from his place by the wall, “And how do
you know this?”

“Because she is my mother! Her name is Zhang. Zhang Woo.” Jimmy
awkwardly placed an arm around her. The woman looked surprised at his action,
then gave in and leaned into her son’s embrace. Owen continued to face the
wall.

“I see, that is very touching,” he replied in a sharp tone. “I
assume that you know about this hidden doorway as well.”

“It is an old servant’s way,” Jimmy replied. “It leads to the
kitchen.”

“Yes, yes,” Owen said testily. “How do you open it, man?”

“Oh, that.” Jimmy walked over to the statue of the Buddha. With
his back to the room so that no one could see what he was doing, he worked.
Eventually there was a click and a section of wall swung inward. The violet
haze raced into the dark of the revealed passageway like a hound chasing its
quarry. Owen peered after it.

“I believe that we will need some torches here,” He called out.

Once some open bowls with wicks and oil in them were brought
forth, a strange procession made its way down the narrow corridor illuminated
by the smoky light of the bowls. The violet haze stretched out to a pencil
thinness before them. Eventually the haze came to stop over a slumped body.

“Hello,” said Owen. He knelt at the body’s side. “Help me turn
it over,” He ordered Jimmy. The ganger knelt beside Owen and the two of them
turned the body over revealing a tall man of European features dressed in what
for in this district would be considered fine clothes. A pistol underneath him
was covered in Owen’s violet haze. He picked up the weapon carefully.

“Well Jimmy,” Owen said easily. He held it out the pistol to
the ganger. “Here is the murderer of your man.”

“What is it?” Jimmy breathed, not reaching out to touch it.

“We call it an ‘aether gun’, Owen explained. “They are made by
alchemists. Very expensive, and very, very deadly.” He pointed to the clear
tube on the end of it. “This holds what they call an alchemical fluid. Although
this one is empty, I would wager that it held a fire fluid. The weapon is
capable of shooting fire, or some other elemental energy the same as a Sorcerer
can with his power, instead of bullets like your air pistols.” Jimmy looked at
the weapon in Owen’s hand as if it were a venomous snake.

“I have heard of such things,” He said hoarsely. “Western
abominations.”

“I can but agree with you,” Owen said. Jinhao had ghosted up
beside them, kneeling to examine the body.

“This one is still alive,” she said calmly.

Chapter 17

They carried the mysterious stranger up the stairs
.
Upon examining him, it was discovered that he had suffered a blow to the head
that had rendered him unconscious. Despite this, he had been tied to a chair
while Jinhao ministered to his head wound. The man muttered as she worked.

“What is that he is saying?” Mike asked. Owen stood by the
doorway watching Jinhao at work.

“It is Germanic,” Owen replied. At Mike’s blank look, Owen
amplified his statement. “That is the language used by most of the Austrian
Empire.” Mike nodded.

“I have heard of them,” he said, looking at the bound man.
“They tried to invade the city last summer.” Owen who along with Jinhao had
stopped said invasion merely nodded in agreement.

“Yes,” Owen said gravely, “They are definitely bad eggs.”

“What is he doing here?” Mike wondered aloud.

“Perhaps we may ask him when he regains consciousness,” Jinhao
said drily, as she tossed a bloody rag into a basin. She carefully wrapped his
head in a makeshift bandage.

“Then he will recover,” Owen asked. Jinhao raised her hands
palms up in reply.

“It is always uncertain with head wounds,” she said. “However I
see no reason why he should not.”

“There is no need for that,” Jimmy the Horse said grimly. “He
killed Huang with his devil-science gun, this is clear.” Jimmy turned towards
Mike who still held Mary close to him. He bowed at the rival gang leader.

“It seems that I may owe you and the woman an apology,” he said
briefly. Mike retuned the bow.

“It is very kind of you to say so,” Mike replied with equal
brevity.

“Of course,” Jimmy said stiffly, “We will have to question the
culprit before I am completely satisfied.”

Mike bowed again. “Of course,” he agreed calmly. While the two
of them were talking, Owen had slid over to the tied-up captive. He pulled back
the man’s shirt-sleeve to reveal the tattoo of a skull on his arm.

“
Tokenkoff
,” Owen hissed in surprise.

“What’s that?” Mike asked Owen.

“Deaths-Head,” Owen translated. “Our friend here is an agent of
the Austrian Secret Service. A rather elite agent come to that,” Owen mused.
“Does anyone recognize him?” At the chorus of no’s Owen turned back to the
unconscious man

“
Waken Sie
,” he murmured. The man moaned and opened his
eyes.

“Ja,” he said groggily. His head snapped back and his eyes
narrowed in suspicion as he realized that he was tied to the chair. “
Was ist
loss
?” he exclaimed angrily.

“Sorry old man,” Owen said in English. “But we have you red-handed.
It will go much easier on you if you cooperate. You do speak English do you
not? It would make it easier for our friends here if you speak either that or
Mandarin.”

“I can speak both,” the bound man replied coldly in English.
“Tell me why I should,” he finished in what Owen thought was horrible Mandarin.
Enough of the meaning got through that Jimmy sprang at him with a roundhouse
blow to the head that rocked the man back. Jinhao sprang in front of Jimmy,
grabbing him in what appeared to be a painful hold

“Because you talking is the only thing keeping you alive,”
Jimmy yelled. “Because nobody kills one of my boys and gets away with it!”

Owen stood up between Jimmy and the captive. He addressed Jimmy
earnestly.

“Listen,” he said to the gang leader. “We still do not know why
Huang was killed. If we do not find the answer to that, then he died in vain,
do you understand?” Jimmy stopped moving in Jinhao’s grip.

“Yeah, I get that,” Jimmy said “Why do you think that he’s
still alive?” Owen looked at the bound man over his shoulder.

“I think that you should talk,” he said to the Austrian agent
in his native language. “I do not know if I can hold him otherwise.”

“Hey,” Jimmy said angrily. “No talking in that funny jabber.
Speak English! His Hannish is awful.” Owen nodded an acknowledgment, turning
back to the seated man.

“You heard our host,” Owen said evenly. “We have recovered your
aether pistol, and linked it conclusively to the murder of the boy called
Huang. What we want to know is why.” The man began to laugh darkly.

“Und if I tell you,” he said in a thick Austrian accent, “you
will simply kill me the quicker.” He shook his head. “No, I am ready to go to
Her sweet embrace now thank you.” He closed his eyes, then closed his lips
resolutely.

Owen caught Mike’s eye and nodded his head towards Jimmy and
then the door. The ganger caught Owen’s message and turned towards the other
gang leader.

“Come now Jimmy, let us go outside and leave the professionals
to do what they do best,” he said in Mandarin while moving with Mary towards
the door.

“How do we know that he is on the level?” Jimmy demanded,
pointing to Owen.

“Because I say so,” Jinhao snapped, her voice oddly muffled by
the black gauze mask she still wore. “I speak with the voice of the Dragon.”
Jimmy held up his hands towards her in placation.

“All right,” Jimmy said hastily, “all right. I do not intend to
anger the Dragon.” He followed Mike and Mary quickly out the door. Owen pulled
up another western style chair, settling himself next to the prisoner. He
reached into the deep pockets of his tunic, producing a cigarette case. He
extracted two cigarettes, holding one up to the Austrian’s face.

“Want one?” Owen asked. “Now that the children are gone, we can
relax like reasonable adults.” The Austrian laughed low.

“You are more a fool than I take you for Britisher, if you
think those are anything but murderous rats rather than children. But yes, I
would like one, out of your courtesy please.” He licked his lips as Owen lit
one of the cigarettes, holding it up to the Austrian’s lips. He inhaled
gratefully then Owen took it away from him.

“Is that why you killed Huang,” Owen asked casually. The
Austrian laughed again.

“I
haff
not killed anyone,” he said ruefully.

“See here,” Owen said calmly, “I have seen your tattoo so
everyone now knows that you are an agent of the Austrian secret police, but why
would you be sulking around here? I do not understand it,” he continued, “And I
assure you that you want me to understand it. I may be the only thing standing
between you and dying open-faced to the world. I doubt that your Goddess would
approve of that.” The Austrian laughed again.

“Then you do not know as much as you might think,” he returned
smugly. “The Grand Bishop herself blesses each member of the Chosen who must go
out into the world of sinners. My place is already assured.”

“Ah,” Owen nodded. “Then it is as I conjectured, you are a
member of the
Tolken-knoff
.”

“I did not say that,” the secret police officer quickly
interjected.

“You did not have to,” Owen returned with a touch of his own
smugness. “If you were simply a refugee, you would not be a member of the
Church of Her Divine Radiance. If you were an ordinary member, I doubt that you
would be receiving dispensations from the Grand Bishop.” The bound man bared
his teeth at Owen. “Nor would you bear that rather distinctive mark,” Owen
added, tapping the man casually on the forearm.

“We shall enjoy sending you to the eternal fire,” the Austrian
snarled. “The Goddess shall not be denied, nor shall we stop until the whole
world bows before Her Radiance!”

“Yes, yes,” Owen said wearily. “I shall suffer from not having
been turned by the lunatic ravings of a dead Mideastern prophetess, whose
teachings are no doubt twisted from the original by the Church anyway. I would
think that you would want to claim credit for killing an infidel, no matter how
young.” Owen took a deep pull on his own cigarette, letting the other one fall
to the ground. The secret policeman’s eyes followed its trail down to floor
forlornly.

“As I have already stated, I have killed no one,” he said to
Owen in a haughty tone of voice.

“Of course not,” Owen replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“You were just for a pleasant walk with the murder weapon in a secret hallway
near the victim.” At this point Jinhao spoke up. The good person/bad person
interrogation technique was one that they had practiced before.

“Now do not be so hard on him,” she said sympathetically. “No
doubt he stumbled in the hallway, fell down, and hit his head.” The bound man
looked offended at this.

“I did not stumble!” He snapped. “I was hit over the head!” Owen
looked at Jinhao, then at the man.

“I am sure that you were Hans,” Owen said voice still dripping
sarcasm. “Did you by chance see who did it?”

“No!” the agent said vehemently. “And my name is Deter, not
Hans!”

“So you are saying that you were hit over the head and your
pistol used without your knowledge?” Jinhao asked.

“Yes!” Deter exclaimed excitedly. “That must have been what
happened!”

“And will you tell us why you were in the corridor of the
restaurant?” Jinhao pressed. Deter turned away his head away from the pair of
them.

“I have said too much already,” Deter closed his mouth with a
snap.

“Oh I do not think that you have said nearly enough.” Owen
returned. “You want to consider that we are your only friends in all this.
There is a bloodthirsty gang leader outside who wants nothing more than to kill
you slowly and painfully. Frankly, I am still inclined to allow him to, Deter.
You are going to have to give us something more to go on than mysterious
assailants. You think on that.” Owen motioned with a nod of his head for Jinhao
to accompany him out the door. Once outside the room, they were accosted by an
anxious Jimmy who stood waiting with Mike and Mary.

“Well?” the gang leader demanded eagerly. Owen held up a hand.

“Do not kill him yet, Jimmy,” Owen said tiredly. “Let Jinhao
and I talk for a moment first.” Jimmy gestured angrily for them to move down to
the far end of the hallway. Once out of hearing, Owen turned to Jinhao.

“Well,” he began, “What do you think of our secret agent of the
Austrian Republic?” Jinhao frowned in thought.

“Strange as his story seems, he has the ring of truth to his
voice,” she said. “You have had more dealings with his countrymen though, what
do you believe?”

Owen winced as he thought on her question.

“Unfortunately, I believe him too,” he whispered back. “No
assassin has such a stupid capture story as he does. Still, he was up to
something, I would give a lot to know what.” They both turned at the sound of
someone on the stairs. It was Jimmy’s mother come up the stairs with towels and
fresh water. Head bowed, she made her way towards the door which held their
captive.

“Here now,” Owen called out to her. “What do you think that you
are doing?” The woman scampered behind Jimmy the Horse, peering out at Owen. She
spoke some dialect strange to Owens ears as she looked around Jimmy at him.

“She says that she was only going to clean his wounds,” Jimmy
explained. “What is the big deal? You won’t let her take care of him. I would
think that you would be glad to have her look after the scum. Did you get him
to confess?”

“No,” Owen said. “Nor do we think that he is your killer.”
Jimmy split on the floor before Owen.

“Come now!” He exclaimed. “First the girl didn’t do it. Then
you find a strange abomination of science that you say did the killing, but
that the wielder of it didn’t kill Huang either? Then who did?”

“Someone else,” Owen said simply.