"Now, obviously I will be taking the lead as we look through Dringel’s books, letters, and other documents in the study. You two can… I don’t know, I’m sure you can find something to busy yourselves with," said Tatzel imperiously. Despite all her previous eye-rolling and loudly declared disinterest, she was really getting into the investigation.
She had even started bossing us around. That didn’t sit right with me; if anything, Aeshma and I should’ve been the ones bossing her around. She was the newest to the crew, after all. Even Jie had seniority over her. But I didn’t hear him barking orders.
“In fact,” continued Tatzel, “Aeshma, why don’t you run back to the kitchens and make me a cup of tea? Lemon, no sugar.”
Aeshma responded with a scathing glare. “Uh, no. How about instead, I make sure the murderer doesn’t sneak up and kill us while we’re snooping around for clues?”
Tatzel scoffed. “I don’t think that’s a concern.” She flashed the bone-carved ring on her thumb. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I was made Boss of the Threshold, with all that entails. I’m Level Eight, and more than capable of handling any of these buffoons.”
Aeshma jabbed her finger at me. “Okay, but he’s not. Anyone here could one-shot him.”
“Yeah, and Jie might be in danger too. He’s only Level Two,” I said, mostly to make myself feel better. I didn’t want to feel like I was the only one in the party who needed protecting. Anyway, there was a kernel of truth to it. In his shield form, Jie had outsized durability for a creature of his Level… but as a deerstalker cap, he seemed pretty squishy.
Tatzel begrudgingly agreed that we shouldn’t split the party. However, given her sharply honed intellect, she insisted that she would be the one to comb through whatever documents or potential clues we came across, while Aeshma and I were to search for hidden drawers or other compartments where Dringel might have secreted away notes about his business dealings.
As it stood, Horlen was still our prime suspect. However, Dracorn’s testimony had thrown Horlen’s motive into question. Earlier, I thought this was a straightforward case of Horlen killing his father to take possession of the family business.
However, it sounded like Dringel had no intention to sell – at least not in the immediate future. And from what Anya told us, Horlen wanted more time apprenticing under his Dringel. He didn’t want control of the business just yet.
So he had no motive to kill Dringel.
For his part, Horlen had claimed that Dracorn was the murderer. But if what Dracorn said was true, he didn’t have a strong motive either.
So overall, we were feeling rather lost. Our only hope was that there was some clue left behind in Dringel’s study, in whatever late-night work he apparently found so important.
I, for one, thought maybe that Dringel was secretly arranging to sell the business to someone other than Dracorn. If Horlen discovered that, it would explain why he was so angry with his father. Maybe that’s what they were fighting about so heatedly last night.
Unfortunately, we’d need more than a hunch if we wanted to satisfy the ‘parlor scene’ demanded by Dringel’s Deathclock Shroud.
“That door should lead to the study, if I recall correctly,” said Tatzel, pointing to a sturdy wooden door at the far end of the hall.
I nodded, remembering Agita’s directions. The study door was closed – but in the sliver of light filtering through the crack between it and the floor, I made out a sudden flash of movement.
Someone was inside.
“Shoot, did you guys see that?” Aeshma whispered loudly. “That’s gotta be the killer, right? Trying to cover their tracks?”
A woman’s voice issued out of the room. The sound was muffled by the thick door and the plush rugs under our feet, but whoever was in there sounded angry. Like she was arguing with someone.
The voice didn’t sound like it belonged to Anya or Agita, which meant it was…
“Petunia?” I whispered. “What’s she doing in there?”
“Getting up to some corporate espionage on behalf of Dracornian Industries, perhaps?” Tatzel suggested. “Let’s try to get closer.”
The three of us crept as close as we dared. We could hear another voice, this one a man’s, but whatever he was saying was too quiet to make out. Aeshma took another step forward and pressed her ear against the door…
Which swung wide open. It apparently hadn’t been fastened shut. Aeshma was left hunched over in a rather undignified pose, in full view of the room’s occupants. Aeshma took a moment to recover before straightening back up. “Hey fellas. So what’s, um. What’s going on in here?” she asked.
A silence hung in the air. Aeshma turned back to us and whispered, unnecessarily, “It’s Horlen and Petunia!”
The two of them clearly had not been having a pleasant chat. Both were red in the face and wore sour expressions. Petunia was standing with her arms crossed; Horlen, with his hands balled into fists.
I hoped their anger was all directed at each other, and not at us three for having barged in on their argument.
Aeshma stepped aside to let Tatzel and I file into the room. Once we were inside, she hung back and let her impressive frame block the exit. She clearly wanted to indicate that Horlen and Petunia were only going to leave the room when we allowed them to.
“We didn’t interrupt anything, did we? We weren’t expecting to run into anyone here,” I said as pleasantly as I could.
“This is my father’s office,” Horlen said icily. “I have every right to be here.”
Petunia drew herself up. “And you mean to imply that I don’t, is that it?”
The muscle in Horlen’s jaw bulged out as he looked from Petunia, to us, and back again. For a moment, I was worried he was going to attack her. Or us, for that matter. But finally he let out a snort.
“I have nothing more to say. To any of you,” he spat, with an angry nod in our direction. He shot Petunia a final glare before crossing over to the door. He was nearly eye-to-eye with Aeshma, his fists still clenched tight. I had almost forgotten how large he was. Despite being Human, he was as broad as Aeshma, with enormous shoulders and arms. All those years at the forge had put him in tip-top shape.
Seeing him again, I couldn’t help but imagine how easy it would’ve been for him to have lifted the mace that killed Dringel.
“Get out of my way, Succubus. And don’t try peeling any information out of me with your Monster charms. If you cast so much as a Glamor, I’ll have the guards called on you first thing when the Shroud lifts.”
Aeshma frowned… but ultimately decided against keeping him in the room by force. She didn’t stop him, but she didn’t step aside, either, and seemed to take some pleasure in making Horlen scoot and muscle his way past her. He gave a final irritated flip of his long, red hair before disappearing down the hallway.
Petunia remained rooted to the spot. Once we couldn’t hear Horlen stomping around anymore, she let out a long, exasperated sigh. “The boy’s got a temper, I’ll tell you that much,” she said, shaking her head. But her exasperated tone didn’t quite match the look in her eyes. She looked… frightened. Like something Horlen said had badly scared her.
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She caught me staring and flashed me a smile, showing off a set of impossibly white teeth. “You three are trying to solve Dringel’s murder, is that right?”
Aeshma and I nodded, but Tatzel didn’t seem so taken in by Petunia’s affable tone. She put a hand on her chin. “What were the two of you arguing about?”
The pale Dragoness gulped. “If you can believe it, the boy stormed in here and started accusing me of having done the murder. I can’t understand it. I mean… I didn’t have the stomach to look at the crime scene, you understand. But I heard that Dringel, Queen spare him, was crushed by a giant mace. And obviously I,” she said, gesturing down to her svelte, stylish body, “would have no business lifting such a bulky thing.”
In her human form, that certainly seemed true. Petunia’s slim neck and narrow wrists protruded comically from her puffy ermine coat. She looked almost like a skinny, well-groomed poodle. Had Dringel died from a knife between his ribs, or been seared by a magic bolt, or something, then maybe I would’ve thought Petunia could’ve done it. But the mace?
And yet, the slits in her icy blue eyes betrayed her true form. I hadn’t considered it before, but there was no way to know how physically strong she was as a Dragon.
Tatzel was looking at Petunia suspiciously. “Mmm, so you say. Did I hear you correctly, that Horlen stormed in on you here? What exactly were you doing in a dead man’s study?”
Petunia didn’t flinch away from Tatzel’s pointed question. “Why, I was just wandering around to stretch my legs. Surely you don’t think I’m some sort of… some sort of crook, or that I was doing anything untoward.”
“No, of course not. I’m sure you just happened to wander into the study of your husband’s business rival, whence he conducted all his business.”
Aeshma huffed impatiently. “Seriously, Tatz, who cares if she was stealing business secrets? We’re trying to solve a murder here! Just ask her why Horlen thinks she’s the killer already!” she hissed, a little too loudly.
Tatzel swung around to face her. “I’m trying to ask! Don’t butt in! And I already told you not to call me that!”
As the two of them were bickering, I caught the slightest movement from Petunia. Her hand slowly slid out from its puffy sleeve and reached into the coat’s front pocket.
When she retracted her hand, it was empty.
She had pocketed something.
“–and I’ll ask it when and how I please!” Tatzel finished.
Her and Aeshma’s argument had gradually increased in volume from a whisper to a full-on shout. Petunia, well-bred as she was, was polite enough to pretend not to hear anything.
Tatzel took a deep, dramatic breath before turning back to our subject. Neither she nor Aeshma seemed to have noticed Petunia’s discreet movement. “So, Petunia. Horlen accused you of the murder, but did he say specifically why he suspected you? Any basis for his accusation that we should know about?” asked Tatzel.
Petunia hesitated just a second too long before responding. “Oh, Horlen was just saying the… the craziest things. They don’t even bear repeating in front of you fine detectives. Dringel’s death has unhinged him.”
Aeshma, Tatzel, and I exchanged a glance. Petunia was hiding something. Two somethings, if we included whatever she just put in her pocket. It was time to get some answers.
“Hey, what’s that in your pocket?” I asked.
“Shut up, Roland! I’m running this one!” Tatzel wailed. “This is unbelievable! Why can’t the two of you just let me have this one thing?”
“No, she just – Petunia put something–”
“Yeah Roland, so I’m not allowed to help with Tatzel’s interrogations, but for some reason you are?” asked Aeshma.
Petunia stared at me with her emotionless, draconic eyes. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to, exactly.” She looked toward Tatzel. “Unless there’s anything else I can help you with?”
It was no use; Aeshma and Tatzel wouldn’t listen to me. Anyway, it wasn’t as though I could force Petunia to empty her pockets. Threatening these people was out of the question, much less physically assaulting them. They were all so rich and well-connected, they’d have no trouble siccing the authorities on us if we stepped out of line during our investigation.
Not to mention, if Dracorn found out we were putting the heat on his wife…well, while I was confident enough that Aeshma could handle Dracorn in a fight, I was hoping to avoid having the situation devolve into combat.
We were detectives, not fist-tectives.
“No, you’ve been plenty helpful already,” said Tatzel. She seemed pleased that Petunia was treating her as the one in charge. “We’ll just take a quick look around in here, if you don’t mind.”
“Yes, very good,” Petunia replied smoothly. I assumed she meant she was going to let us investigate in private. Instead, Petunia planted herself down in a cozy armchair, pulled a touchscreen phone out of her sleeve, and started scrolling. There was no internet here, so what she was scrolling, I didn’t know. I guess it was probably just a status symbol.
If Petunia wanted to watch us investigate, that was her prerogative. Her presence wouldn’t stop us from finding the truth.
The study was messier than the rest of the manor. A dozen mostly-empty bowls of soup were strewn on top of every available surface, including atop the windowsill. There was even a stack on the floor, shoved into the corner of the room. The fireplace was cold and unlit, and judging by the lack of ash and pristine condition of the broom and pokers, didn’t get nearly as much use as the one in the den. Various papers, binders, and log-books were strewn across the surface of Dringel’s desk, with no apparent order or organizing principles. The leather rolling chair behind the desk was plush and comfortable-looking, with two notable depressions in the seat where Dringel’s buttcheeks had left their mark.
Bookcases lined the walls, all filled with unlabeled, identical leather-bound binders. A quick peek inside one told us that they were the Dringel & Son accounting records. It would’ve taken weeks to search through them all, even if we had the patience for it. Anyway, if Dringel were getting up to some mischief, he would probably have left behind some clearer evidence. Maybe a letter to a potential, non-Dracornian buyer. Maybe a document showing the proof of sale.
So Aeshma and I ignored the bookshelves, and instead elected to hunt around for hidden levers or secret compartments. Tatzel, meanwhile, pored over the documents on top of Dringel’s desk. She shuffled through a few without comment… but then one of them seemed to catch her attention. “Ah, this is strange,” she muttered. She beckoned Aeshma and me over. “Take a look.”
The page in front of her was unremarkable, to my initial inspection. Just rows and rows of dry tabulations: fifty pounds of iron ingots purchased from some specific vendor, of which twenty received. Thirty pounds copper…
“What’re we supposed to be seeing here?” Aeshma asked. “If the dude left behind a clue in a math puzzle or something, so help me I will not do it.”
“There’s no puzzle, you… ugh. Look here, in the corner.” Tatzel pointed to a short note that had been hastily scrawled beside the tabulations.
“Third ‘P’ from right. Rotate twice counter. Six clockwise. Pull.” I read aloud. “What’s that mean?”
“Look, he drew a little heart next to it, too,” Aeshma noted. From her armchair, Petunia burst out in a violent coughing fit. Once it ended she continued scrolling on her phone. None of us bothered to acknowledge it.
Tatzel scratched at her nose. “I think they’re instructions. Probably for accessing a secret compartment, or drawer, or something. I’d wager whatever it is, it’s in this room.”
People really needed to be better about not writing down their passwords. This one was at least more obfuscated than a username and password combo. What was the third ‘P’? The three of us wandered around the room, trying to figure it out.
“Third parchment?” I suggested, rifling through the papers on the desk. But there were too many of them to look through, and besides they were scattered about without any kind of order. There wasn’t a third parchment. There was the same problem with pen, which was my next guess.
Tatzel looked at Petunia, then shook her head. I suppose there was only one of her.
Aeshma had stomped over to the fireplace. “What do you call these little… pokey things?” she asked.
“Pokers!” Tatzel and I exclaimed simultaneously. There were three pokers hanging from a metal stand beside the fireplace. I thought back to the note. “Which means the third from the right is–”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it dude,” Aeshma said. She fiddled with the first poker, rotating it this way and that. A low grinding sound was emitting from somewhere inside the wall. “There’s some sort of, like, mechanism back here… I think it’s in the fireplace mantel. Shoot, how many turns was it? Three clockwise, then… oh, screw it.”
CRACK
Before Tatzel or I could counsel her against it, Aeshma had grabbed the wooden mantel and wrenched it halfway off the wall. In the opening left behind was a thick metal chain. Aeshma turned back to us and grinned, looking extremely pleased with herself. Then she yanked the chain.
The fireplace shifted. It moved backwards into the wall before sliding down into the floor, revealing the entrance to a large, well-furnished… uh…
Well, a sex dungeon.
Behind us, Petunia let out a shrill scream.
Touchscreen Cellular Phone
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Item Level 43
Usage tags: charging, electronic, intricate, mechanical, mundane
Through the use of micro-circuits and electricity, this mechanical device is able to store and retrieve information including text, images, and audio though non-magical means. The device only functions when supplied with electricity.
