669’s thoughts rolled through facts and thoughts of the case and last few days, as the scene of paddocks and hills slid past his view from his angle of the carriage window.
“Are you going to tell us what you’re up to or are we just your silent henchmen for the day.” 777 bluntly asked Detective Morse.
“Henchmen but…” Detective Morse stared at 669 as he addressed the rest of his comment to him. “I need the use of your scope magic.”
669 nodded.
789 huffed. Her lips twitched with words, but she kept them to herself. Sure, they were going to be henchmen. But why did she have a troubling suspicion that the good Royal Guard wanted them to a bit more investigative. Welp, if anything she might have a good chance to test her pills.
The rest of the carriage ride continued in contemplative silence. It was evening when Orchid trotted into a circular entrance courtyard of a gray stone castle with three steeples on pillar towers connected to a main block. Wild ivy vines and moss patches framed the edges and eaves of a large oak wood door, which had seen better days. Their first impressions were slightly worn and rundown.
“Where’s the people?” 777 grunted as his eyes cast sideways glances as they stepped up to the door and easily entered on their own.
“Should henchmen know more?” Emelia scoffed as she strutted past him and his growl.
The five of them stood in an empty foyer that had one staircase running up to the next level where the dirty windows allowed a bit of the waning light through to streak the dusted floor boards. Their footsteps carried as they stepped up to the floor and down a simplistic hallway that was a far cry from the Poirot’s mansion.
“This is the spot.” Detective Morse stopped before a smashed window pane.
669 glanced around and saw a bedroom door adjacent to the window’s position. His heart pounded with foreboding at the familiarity. He brushed a hand over some of the broken pane and yelped when he felt a spark of a strong magic residue from it. The magic gave him a slimy and cold sensation that made him shiver right down to his bones.
“669, cast your parasitic magic to get a clearer view of the scene.” Detective Morse soberly commanded him.
He heaved a deep sigh then closed his eyes to dive into his spiritual sea, which was inner, spirit, zone for his magic cultivation. His spirit self of his current physical impression surfaced to stand on a still blue ocean that was flat as transparent blue glass. He waved is silver staff in a figure eight motion to stir the surface at his feet into waves, which he controlled. The blue water became black and red as he fed his virya connection to the physical world into it.
“Parasia: Vast Eye.” He held his staff horizontally in his hands as he slipped out of his spiritual sea and opened his physical eyes to see an inverted view of the real world.
This spell cast had also connected the other four to his vision ability.
Emelia gasped as she saw the inverted image of the hallway, where dark was light and vice versa. Right down to minute details of magic traces, which appeared as smokey clouds of red and black dots. A strong concentration of the clouds hovered around the cracks and left a trail down the hall, tracing around two sets of footsteps. 669 frowned when he detected the same poison pattern he had seen at the Poirot’s and the smelt the faint note of magnolia.
789 crushed a blue glowing pill in her hand and let the dust drift toward the spot he was staring at near the other hallway entrance. The pill dust swirled about to recreate a past image of the shoe who made the footsteps. One set of shoes was manly black loafers but the other was simple red slippers with a stitched image of a songbird just visible near the back.
“Right. Happy clue hunting. We stand guard.” 777 diverted his team’s attention to him and away from the crime scene.
The three henchmen stepped to the far end to stand guard. Running steps caught their attention to the entrance.
“Go check it out.” 777 ordered 669.
He nodded a sprinted for the fading running steps, localizing his Vast Eye spell so he could easily follow the traces of the fleeing party’s movements that were picking up speed. It was clear they had caught on to his trail, which he followed through previously undisturbed stone and paisley white hallways, down a narrow staircase and out into a hedge maze that ran on for a few miles. As faint as the trail was, he could still keep up with it. Until, he ran into a dead end hedge wall and rows of angry Venus Fly Trap potted plants, eager to snap his head off. The trail suddenly vanished. A frown creased his forehead. For a trail to vanish while he was seeing with magic could only occur with another form of magic. And a powerful one to hide virya traces.
“Gave you the slip. Damn it!” Emelia panted as she came up behind him, heaving for breath. She cursed and yelped when she dodged a large snapping plant head wanting to grab a chunk of her booty.
He roughly grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the plants to a safe spot at the far end of the hedge path.
“Thanks.”
“A Royal Guard can show manners.” 669 sarcastically acknowledged her small form of gratitude.
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“An Operation Henchman can do his job for once. Instead of bedding every noble bratty man he comes across.” She huffed in response.
“I don’t bed every noble man, just good-looking ones who can keep up with me.” He smugly argued.
“And any credibility to your character just went out the window.” She groaned.
“Speaking of ‘out the window’, there was a similar death as Marcus Poirot, wasn’t there?”
Emelia frowned, not sure how much should she tell him. Yet, it was because of him and 789 that they could see clues that their normal sight couldn’t. It was the true reason Morse had asked for their assistance.
“Who owns this mansion?” 669 asked with a serious expression.
“Some mid-tier trinkets merchant.” She offhandedly commented, hoping he wouldn’t read more into it.
He frowned as he sieved through his thoughts and mumbled possible hits. His voice and thinking paused when he came to a likely name.
“The Sommerville's?” The name came out of his mouth as a gasp, for this family was far from being trinket merchants. They were the Poirot’s business rivals in the artifact selling business, with rare treasures they regularly sold at auction houses.
Emelia was the one to gasp this time with a small surprise. “How did you? Wait, don’t tell me you know one of the family’s sons.”
669 chuckled knowingly. Indeed, Aston Sommerville was a handsome twenty-something specimen with a healthy appetite for sex. Although on the more kinky side, which he didn’t like but was able to handle for kicks. However, if the man were to be rough on others, he wondered if that would cause him a lot of problems and enemies for the family.
“Young Master Aston. He was a regular at Peony Soap House. He liked rough sex. Not really my cup of tea.”
Emelia sighed and shook her head. It was probably best he knew more of the investigation as they may need him to be an informant.
“He’s dead.”
669 froze as his mind was still registering her words. So the broken window and trail of footsteps were the scene of his death. Murder. More thoughts circled on the similarity of Marcus Poirot’s death.
“He died the same way as Lord Marcus.”
She nodded. “Let’s talk more as we head back.”
Night was high in the sky when they re-entered the ground area of the mansion to see the others waiting at the front foyer. By this time 669 was clear of Ashton’s murder being the same was Marcus’s. He saw the family butler was talking to Morse who was taking note of the conversation on a small notebook. 669 thought he had seen the butler’s face before: he couldn’t mistake the man's crooked big nose and odd shaped, neanderthal-like, head. The butler looked more like a suited thug for hire than a reflection of lordly elegance.
“And I told you all I know.” The butler’s deep tones were heavy with rudeness. It was clear he wasn’t going to entertain the Royal Guard and their escorting henchmen further.
“Why the attitude? Do you have something to hide?” Detective Morse calmly pressed the man but received a repeated answer like the man was speaking from a script.
“Very well, we’re done for now.” He closed the conversation with the butler and gave everyone the signal to leave the mansion.
The doors swiftly closed behind them as the strolled across the entrance courtyard to the waiting carriage. As they approached Orchid, a folly of arrows whizzed past their heads and landed on the gravel nearby. 777 rushed in front of Emelia and Detective Morse to guard them. 669 and 789 chased after them, through the thick of trees and bushes; following a trail via a Vast Eye spell. Like the moment at the hedge maze, the trail suddenly vanished near a tree clump. 789 crushed a blue pill in her hand and cast the dust over the last trail moments, but the image recreated was too blurred to be distinguishable. It was clear a powerful magic was blocking the energies.
“Damn it! What the hell is this magic?” 789 kicked up dirt with a boot to ease her frustration.
“Not our problem. Let’s get back and do what we’re asked to do - guard.” 669 sighed as he turned to head back to the others, but his mind was filled with both question and frustration at only being answered with more questions until it formed a senseless jumble in his brain.
Two men he had been acquainted with via the Peony House were dead in the same way - tossed out of the window before their bedrooms.
“Peony Soap House.” He muttered to himself when he returned.
“Time to pay them a visit. I would like you there with me.” Detective Morse patted his shoulder with a twinkle in his eye.
“Wait. Why? I’m just a henchman” 669 gulped down a nervous knot.
“A henchman who’s somehow doing a side hustle at a soap house. How’s that going to look at the Peace Order Magisterium?”
“Now, wait! No one said I couldn’t have a hobby! I’m always a guest not a worker.” He snapped at the smug detective.
But Detective Morse’s smug grin widened as he leaned in and said, “Exactly.”
669 looked to 777 who sighed with understanding.
“Informant fees will cost you more credits.”
“200.”
777 huffed. “600.”
“550 and I’ll submit a recommendation to the Royal Guard for your company. You’ll be able to receive high paid jobs.”
“Deal!” 777 let out a triumph laugh, disregarding 669’s complaints on the matter.
“It’s just a visit. Nothing more.” 777 slapped his parasitic mage’s back. His mind was already counting the revenue rolling in from high paid guard jobs.
“You damn opportunists!” 669 cried out his woe.
“What’s your problem? You’re gonna go to that seedy place later anyway. At least this way you get paid for it.” 789 shrugged off and sneakily whispered, “And it won’t violate our Majestic Will. In fact, you might get some extra booty calls.”
“Fine.” 669 sighed. It was a lost cause to try and argue his way out of it.
“Excellent. Let’s recap at your headquarters.” Detective Morse closed further conversation on the matter.
They left the grounds with a clearer image of serial murders forming in their heads.