Bosgar stepped over Lucy Tank’s body, the shopkeeper for Solace Tailors. Naturally, the woman was still and lifeless. He wiped his hands on his silk white handkerchief. Not that he needed too, the motionless body wasn’t of his doing exactly. So his hands weren’t dirty. Especially, when the woman was still alive, just in a subconscious paralysis.

He grabbed one of her clean yet drab stools, dragged it over to her body and sat down to glower over her form.

“I must thank you for a well-made suit. The material is a quality I expected, especially the lining.” He smoothed down his suit jacket, which was the order he had picked up from the shop. But he only ordered the suit because his brother had connections to the woman, who was lying at his feet.

“Now. This is what else you’re going to do for me. On your work bench is a sealed pouch. You will carry it into Maud’s office and place it into his vault when no one is looking. Then you will walk into the Royal Guard and pass the good Detective Morse this letter.”

He leaned close to her ear to whisper his final orders. Then stood and stepped away from her body, leaving the tailor shop through the back and side exit into a quiet lane for the market district.

669 surfaced to his mind with intrigue. He was more fascinated about his own fascination for the man who attracted the eye of an interesting and mysterious organization.

“The Will game is getting interesting.” He stepped out of the building and into a waiting harse carriage where he made his way back to his home estate via the quieter streets.

Not realizing his carriage trotted past 669, who was headed for his headquarters. The others had gone a head, but 669 wanted to see the Miller’s Water Depot first. It was a small factory and storage building at the south of Cross Road Village. Situated at an ideal position on the Desert Overlord Road that lead to the Last Grace Lake, which was deep on the south side of the Desert Barren lands.

He wanted to cross-reference the details of the receipts with the ledger. But naturally, he couldn’t do the questioning on his own, so had asked Emelia to meet him there.

“Hey. What do you need me to check?” Emelia said when he walked up to the factory’s entrance where she was waiting.

“I noticed one of the orders was still red.”

He handed her a slip that he somehow didn’t give to Detective Morse at the time, so decided to do so when they met up with him at the factory.

“669, you should’ve handed this to us and let us do the work.”

“I’m handing it to you now, aren’t I? Besides, I have two people hounding me to solve the case, which I really shouldn’t be doing. I want to be sure there’s no blowback to me and the company.”

She nodded and looked at the slip. “Artusdeireair-Deurs: 5PM - 1.5 barrels Harper Tank 75 credits. Hmm, so two days before Lord Marcus was murdered.”

He nodded. “I’m suspecting the order was for the Poirot’s mansion.”

“Follow me.”

She opened the solid metal door of the single story water and storage facility, and saw the entire floor area was rows of large water barrels and vats. A section of one wall stored small barrels that were filled and ready to be sent out to customers. Near it was a barn door that was opened to show a ramp.

They weaved around workers in overalls, checking gauges or monitoring distillation valves and tubes that connected one vat to another. And headed for the partitioned office at the end, where a woman was writing into various journals before her using a magic pen.

“Can I help you?” The woman soberly said as she pushed her round glasses up her crooked nose. Her image in a blue dress and shoes was simple and concise.

Emelia flashed her badge, which the woman stared at for a short time before nodding. “I need to know the address of this order.”

The woman looked at the slip then clicked her tongue. “Information about our customers is strictly confidential. I’m afraid you will need a court order granting permission for this information.”

“Okay. Can you tell me if the order was for somewhere in the Borrowman Hills region?”

“I’m afraid I can’t. Now if you excuse me officers, I must continue with my work.” The woman returned her focus to her books.

Emelia sighed. She had been expecting this, but hoped the place would be reasonable.

“Looks like we’ll need to take this further with the system.”

“Okay. I’ll leave this to you then.” 669 was prepared to leave it at that, but something felt strange about these connections and his memory leak. It seemed there was a common element binding it all together. So when they had exited the factory, Emelia went her own way unsuspecting of his intention to dig further.

669 walked around the factory building wall, which was 10 meters high made of solid bamboo. As he located the back gate, which opened to the road, he saw a wiry man taking out his water cart, which he pulled on foot. The man had a blank look, and there was faint stench of magnolia and pomegranate wafting off his body. So he decided to follow his trail: making sure he kept to the cover of trees, walls and objects large enough to conceal him.

As he headed further away from the village, he noticed the back of the cart was light on barrels. In fact, there were only two barrels loaded. It might not be an odd sight for the time of day, but it felt odd to 669. Especially, when they trekked along a narrow dirt track through the village forest in the direction of the Peony Soap House. Knowing, Maud, he wouldn’t order small amounts unless he had underestimated business and needed an emergency delivery. The man rarely did. 669 observed the water seller’s pace that was far from attending to some urgency. It was slow and sluggish.

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A waxing crescent was being formed in the dark sky, by the time the man finally stopped his tracks before the back entrance of the soap house. The man effortlessly carried the two barrels through the back entrance. 669 followed the same way inside, ignoring the looks and greetings from the workers who were familiar with his face.

As soon as he entered the main floor where all the patron’s and party life was, the man vanished from his line of sight among the crowds at the back wall, near the stairway up to the second floor. So he asked one of the workers if they had seen where he had gone, but the worker responded with head shakes and a no.

“669? I wasn’t expecting you today. Molly said as she came down the stairs to greet him.”

“I’m not allowed here?”

Molly noticed 669’s attempts to be calm. “Is there something we should be aware of?”

“Perhaps. A water seller passed through here carrying two barrels. Have you seen him?”

“No. Why?” Molly frowned. It wasn’t uncommon for water sellers to carry barrels from one floor to another for the baths.

“I think something bad is about to happen. I followed the man here as he didn’t seem right. I think you should alert your guards and have them check for him, just in case.” 669 said, unable to shake the bad feeling.

No sooner had he said that, a cacophony of screams and curses from the second floor drowned out the music and dancing below. A massive explosion sent bodies, mortar and building debris flying to cause dust clouds and damage to the patrons. A purplish cloud of smoke soon descended upon the area.

669 instantly responded by activating his magic and one of his parasitic healing spells that neutralized the poison and other harmful gases the explosion had released.

“Get the people out of here! Henchmen secure the perimeter!” Molly shouted as she organized her troops to evacuate the people and secure the area.

Something dropped before them when part of the smoke cleared around the central stage area of the ground floor. Fairy Blossom’s dead body was dangling on a rope like she had been hanged. Her mask was removed so the scaring on her face was visible. There was a note pinned to her chest.

“I killed Marcus Poirot. I regret what I did. Forgive me.” Molly read the note and looked satisfied by it. “Death by suicide. Well that’s insulting, but at least she’s dead.”

“Why the explosion? Are you sure?”

A henchman approached Molly and confirmed that there was no further danger or evidence of any other party causing trouble.

Molly examined Fairy Blossom’s gloved hands and saw iron powder residue on the material. “It seems she caused the explosion, maybe as a last hooray before hanging herself.”

None of this made sense to 669.

Detective Morse and Emelia entered, along with other Royal Guard officers who began to seal off the crime scene areas.

“You’re quick on the scene.” 669 eyed Emelia suspiciously.

“Did you honestly think I left you back at the warehouse.”

669 sighed. Of course, while he was following the water seller, she had called for backup and was following him.

“I’m sorry, but you’ll need to have the business closed for a couple of days while we investigate the scene.” Detective Morse advised Molly.

“Absolutely not! This is a place of business.” Maud stepped up with a huff and bother.

“And your business has just become a crime scene, Mr. Risk. I do not want to take you in for obstruction of justice.” Morse warned him.

“Maud my friend, we’ll make sure you only have to have this place closed off for 24 hours. Being a suicide, it shouldn’t take more than that.” A man entered the conversation.

He was a well-to-do middle-aged man who was tall, with slick-backed red hair, narrow green eyes with deep laughlines to the corners and a clean-shaven square jaw with a trimmed mustache above a stiff upper lip. He was dressed immaculately in the white light armor with the clover emblem on each pauldron in gleaming silver and a badge version looking spiffy on the right side of his breastplate, which held the initials and rank level of a senior captain.

“Captain Lucas. Excellent. Make sure you do.” Maud looked to 669 and whispered, “See me in my office.”

669 used the commotion and everyone’s attention being on other things to slip away and see Maud in his office.

“What is going on?” Maud demanded from him.

“Why are you asking me? I don’t know. I followed a man here and this happens.” 669 gestured to the area beyond the office door.

“What is wrong Maud?”

Maud eased onto his chair feeling a headache coming on. “What isn’t?”

He explained that early in the morning he had received a note and pouch sitting on his desk. The pouch contained all the credits Fairy Blossom had stolen from him, along with a note that said it was Payback Money.

“Payback money? To pay you back or someone is going to ask for it?”

Maud looked soberly at his wooden pen holder. “I don’t know. I didn’t think anything of it before, but now.” He eased back into his power chair.

“Facing a tidal wave with nothing more than a paddle. I have a feeling this case with Marcus Poirot is getting way over both our heads.” 669 eased on to the armchair near the desk and whipped out his hand fan to elegantly cool his flushed cheeks.

Maud leaned closer toward 669, “I need you to continue with this case and make sure the right perpetrator is caught if this isn’t a suicide.”

“Ha, you mean doesn’t implicate you.” 669 scoffed as he snapped his hand fan closed and sat upright. “It shouldn’t if you have nothing to hide.”

“Don’t play glib with me. Fairy Blossom was a piece of shit, but now she’s dead in my building. We had a falling out, and she had it in for me. I’m their high suspect. The enforcers are going to be all over this, so I doubt they’ll play ball. They’re just interested in closing cases.”

Before they could continue the conversation further, there was a firm knock on the door.

“Remember what I said. You’re my only hope to learning the truth,” Maud whispered.

669 sighed, rubbing his forehead and wishing it was some wishing lamp that could whisk him away. He eased off the chair and opened the door at Maud’s request.

Detective Morse nodded as he and Captain Lucas stepped inside.

“I’ll take my leave.” 669 said, but was stopped by Captain Lucas.

“I’ll need to question you.”

“I’m sure you do, but I need to return to the company. Detective Morse knows where to find me.” 669 turned and stormed out of the hallway and soap house as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself.