17

“We need to go in through the basement,” Nairo said as she led Ridley down an alley that the large nondescript government building backed on to. “Technically we’re not on the books. Better we don’t sign in… officially.”

“That’s not procedure Sergeant,” Ridley said with a smirk on his face.

“Well we could wait a couple of days for official permission if you prefer,” Nairo shot back as she clutched the wrought iron railing and painfully crab walked down the steps to the cellar door.

“I’m not the one who cares about laws,” Ridley said as he followed her crustacean inspired lead, grunting with every step.

Nairo rapped on the cellar door. It opened a moment later and a young pale skinned man ushered them in. He was tall and long fingered with a predatory angle to his face, like a starving rodent. To Ridley he looked comically vampiric, especially considering his occupation.

“Morning Drake,” said Nairo.

“Drake? Really?” Ridley snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Nairo hissed at him.

“Nothing… you don’t see it?” Ridley muttered, a grin drawn across his battered face.

“Umm… morning Sally,” Drake replied, he had the voice of a man who wrung his hands a lot; a high, nasally, obsequious sound.

“Sally!” Ridley burst out.

“Shush!” Nairo pushed him into the dimly lit cellar. “Thank you so much for this, Drake.”

“No problem, but you have to be quick, Mr Gamley is in a foul mood, something’s got his goat and he’s very hot blooded,” Drake said anxiously.

“You would know,” Ridley muttered loud enough that a corpse giggled.

“We really appreciate it and we’ll be super quick, I promise,” Nairo assured him with a gentle pat on his bony arm.

“Just through here then.” He held up a long skeletal digit, pointing them through the ante chamber into the morgue proper. “Just call me when you’re done.” With that he gave a small bow and floated out backwards until the darkness swallowed him.

“Is he a vampyr?” Ridley hissed to her as he eyed the place where Drake had been suspiciously.

“Take five minutes off, Ridley,” Nairo said. “And have some respect.” She gestured to the rows of covered bodies around them.

“What do they care? They’re dead.”

Nairo sighed and rolled her eyes, pushing aside the curtain that led to the examination chamber. It was a low ceilinged space lit with a few meagre candles. A single octagonal stone slab dominated the centre of the room. On the slab was a large frame covered with a brown sheet. With his usual decorum Ridley whipped the sheet from the body and revealed the pale corpse of Benny. The whipping sheet caused the candle flames to dance, throwing shadows across the body. For a stomach turning moment it seemed as if a macabre grin stretched across Benny’s face. Then the shadows settled and he was still once more. It was strange, when he was covered in blood, freshly murdered at the crime scene she was unperturbed. Now, looking at him, naked and pale, she felt a pang of sadness at the waste of life.

She took a deep breath and tried to see Benny as evidence and not a creature. She studied the Goblin’s lanky frame. His body was a myriad of etchings. Goblin warriors carved their triumphs in their scales wearing them as a mark of a honour. Benny’s body was a vignette to his life of violence, there were all sorts of geometric shapes, letters in the Goblin tongue, and faded carvings of images that Nairo couldn’t make out in the half light. On his chest, over his heart, was an engraving of a broken spear, the tip pointing at his heart.

“What do they mean?” Nairo asked.

“Beats me,” Ridley said with a shrug. “Goblins are a bunch of mad fuckers when it comes to their traditions and rituals. Although, knowing Benny, every one of those carvings comes with a heap of misery and blood.”

Ridley wasn’t wrong. Benny’s arms and legs displayed crisscrossing scars and cuts evidencing how deep his addiction had gone before he was killed. In life he was a violent criminal that inspired fear but in death he looked more the victim of his own violence than the perpetrator.

Ridley was unbothered. He had lit a smoke and was walking around the slab. Nairo swallowed the lump in her throat and forced down a nauseous feeling and got on with her job. She couldn’t start feeling sorry for Benny. Instead, she noted the festering wounds from cutting himself. A cut on his arm looked fresh. She also noted the lack of defence wounds anywhere else on his arms or hands.

“No defence wounds,” Ridley said as if reading her mind.

“He was caught off guard,” Nairo replied.

“From the front?” Ridley questioned before they both fell silent again.

Ridley continued to pace around the body while Nairo worked her way systematically up the body when, with a sickening sucking noise, Ridley pulled back Benny’s head, exposing the grizzly wound. They both stood in silence and looked at the gaping maw of pink flesh, the white of his neck bone peaking through the thick muscles of his neck.

“A blade didn’t do that,” Nairo whispered in the darkness.

Ridley bent down, his face only a few inches from the wound, looking curiously at it.

“Looks like a… burn wound?” Ridley said incredulously as he leant closer.

“But all that blood,” Nairo replied. “A burn would cauterise the wound and… and what the hell could have simultaneously burnt Benny and ripped his neck open without touching any other part of him?” Nairo had begun to lean closer with Ridley, her curiosity overpowering her disgust.

“Look.” Ridley, with Zarb’s pencil in hand, lifted the flap of serrated, burnt, skin on his neck.

“It looks like it was ripped open. What could cause a wound like that?” Nairo asked.

“Something unnatural,” Ridley muttered.

“There were blood splatters on the wall behind him,” Nairo said absently.

“Something powerful,” Ridley said.

They looked at each other, almost as if waiting for the other to say it first.

“Magic!” they breathed.

“But how?” Nairo asked.

“And who?” Ridley replied.

“I think we can safely say De Woolf didn’t do this to Benny,” Nairo said.

They fell into a heavy silence, the chill, damp darkness of the room weighed on them. Nairo felt stifled like she couldn’t breathe down here. She wanted badly to get out of this macabre theatre.

“They said the Diamond was benign.”

“They’re Elves, they lie.” Ridley exhaled a cloud of smoke into the dead Goblin’s face. “If it is Active, it would still need someone who knows how to use it.”

“Goblins hate magic don’t they?”

“Yeah, don’t mean if a Diamond fell into their lap they wouldn’t use it,” Ridley stared at Benny’s pallid complexion with a mystified look on his face.

“So there’s an Active Diamond in the hands of a killer, loose in the city?” Nairo could not keep the fear out of her voice.

She had never actually seen an Active Diamond, few creatures had, but she had heard the stories. Even Ridley finally looked worried, the excitement of the mystery fading as reality set in.

“Do you remember in Stote city when that Diamond shattered?” he asked her, his voice barely above a breath.

“It levelled everything within a mile radius,” Nairo replied, her eyes drawn to the charred bloody maw that had been Benny’s throat.

“And that Diamond was just a building Diamond.” Ridley looked at Nairo. “We’ve got to find it before the whole city goes up.”

Nairo nodded, her mouth set in a grim slash.

“But let’s not jump to conclusions, there hasn’t been an Active Diamond used in decades, the Elvish council prohibited it as a war crime.”

“As far as you know.”

“Even so, the Academy didn’t exactly teach me how to recognise murder with an Active Diamond and I’m fairly certain you’re not an expert either.”

Ridley stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“I’ve seen some stuff,” he said petulantly. “But since I know you live and die by the handbook, I guess we can get the coroner’s report to confirm our suspicions.”

“Even better, let’s talk to the coroner, maybe there’s another explanation.”

“If it’s not magic, I’ll eat your notebook.”

“No worse than your usual diet.”

Ridley grinned wistfully and then patted his gut.

“Speaking of which, fancy some real breakfast?”

Nairo looked at her watch.

“Drake said the coroner would be back by midday. Why not?”

“Let’s go then Sarge, I’m suddenly famished.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Ridley laughed and walked out of the room. Nairo looked around at her maudlin surroundings and shook her head. Carefully, she picked up and brushed off the brown sheet, straightened it, and draped it across Benny’s corpse. She half turned, then stopped, and tucked Benny’s scarred and battered claw that had fallen to the side back under the blanket. She stopped for what she felt was a respectful amount of time, straightened her tunic, and followed Ridley out.

*

“Single handed?”

“Yep, just me.”

“And you leapt off a three storey building without breaking your legs?”

“Tucked and rolled.”

“And then you chased down a centaur… on foot?”

“It’s the corners, they get all tangled up with all them legs.”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

Ridley shrugged and took a huge bite out his breakfast egg bap, yolk oozing out of the side, dripping on the cobbles.

“Maybe it was a two storey,” he said round a thick mouthful, a wolfish grin on his face.

They had found a small vendor that had a batch of eggs that hadn't gone completely bad yet. After some intense haggling they secure the last two eggs and some semi hard buns to go. Munching away happily, they posted up on the corner opposite the coroner’s building, watching the sluggish afternoon trade going by. The city always seemed to slow down in the rain and only now were shop shutters beginning to go up and people appear on the streets.

Nairo looked up at the weak sun and checked her pocket watch.

“Why’s it taking so long?” Ridley asked.

“I don’t know, Drake should have come and got us by now,” Nairo said.

“Can’t come out in the sunlight, can he?”

“He’s not a vampyr!” Nairo snapped. “And he’s usually very punctual.”

“Screw this, I’m done waiting.” He wolfed down the last bite of his food. “C’mon Sharge.”

Ridley took off across the road, narrowly avoiding a passing cab, leaving a tired Nairo to limp after him. The short period of standing had caused her hip to tighten again, giving her a bow-legged hobble. She rounded the corner and saw the heavy wrought iron doors of the morgue wide open. She entered the well-lit stone hallway, Ridley’s angry curses floating down the hall. She hobbled to catch up to where Ridley was berating a small Gnome secretary.

“He’s busy!”

“Doing what? Not like his clients are going anywhere!” Ridley snapped in exasperation.

“He’s very busy man! You come back later!” The Gnome had a thick Gnommish accent and a heavy squint, made worse by the giant glasses she wore that magnified her eyes making her look like an insect.

They began bickering back and forth. Between the secretary’s accent and Ridley’s own particular brand of underbelly vocabulary, the whole exchange was an unintelligible blur.

“Enough!” Nairo slammed her badge down on the desk. “Is he too busy for the police?”

The Gnome leant over the counter and peered closely at the badge, then back at Nairo, then back to the badge suspicion written on her squashed little features.

“I check,” she said finally.

“Don’t bother, he’ll be happy to see us. We’re old friends,” Ridley said, striding away. “Down that way, right?”

“No, you can’t…” began the secretary.

“Err did you not see the badge? Ain't this obstructing the justice… or something? Right, Sarge?” Ridley said to Nairo who narrowed her eyes at him.

“Obstructing the course of justice, yes,” she said reluctantly.

Ridley turned smugly back to the Gnome. “Don’t you lot get deported if you break the law?”

“Ridley! Please, maam we’re here on a murder enquiry and if we don’t get to see the chief coroner someone else could die.”

The diminutive Gnome looked from the scowling Ridley to the reassuring smile on Nairo’s face and she finally relented and nodded her head.

“Good. Can I get a cuppa when you’re ready?” Ridley said to the Gnome. “Sarge?”

“No thank you,” Nairo said as she pushed past Ridley.

“Four sugars,” Ridley said to the shaken secretary, then he made his way down the hall.

“I thought you didn’t want me throwing around my badge?” Nairo said sarcastically.

“Has its uses,” he answered, deliberately speeding up so he was a step ahead of her.

The soles of their shoes clacked down the looming hallway until they reached the final door at the end. Rectangular, dark stained and bland looking, it was as uninviting as any door she had seen. Ridley, with his usual tact, reached for the handle immediately. Nairo slapped his hand and tutted. She ignored his muttered curses and rapped smartly on the door.

“Who’s that?”

“Zombies. I want my liver back!”

“Hush!” Nairo snapped. “Police! Could we have a quick chat?”

Silence was their only answer. Finally, they heard the scrape of a chair and the shuffling of papers, then the slam of a drawer. Ridley raised a brow at Nairo who shrugged in return.

“Ermm… one moment!” came a flustered voice from inside, followed by a series of dry wheezing coughs.

“Screw this,” Ridley slammed the door open and strode in.

The office was as drab and miserable as the rest of the building. It was sparsely furnished with only a desk, a smattering of worn down chairs, and a sagging bookcase full of miserable dog eared books. Behind the desk, frozen like a mouse spotted by the cat, stood a half crouched, plump, balding coroner. He was flushed with a sheen of sweat on his brow. He slammed the drawer shut and quickly stood up.

“Huh… no brains?” Ridley remarked as he peered around the room.

“What?” the coroner said. He had a small mean mouth surrounded by a small bushel of unkempt stubble.

“Thought you’d have like jars of brains and stuff,” Ridley replied disappointedly.

“What? Why would I…. who are you people?” the coroner spluttered, eyeing Ridley with open contempt.

“This is Sergeant Nairo,” Ridley said, wandering around the room looking at his bookshelf.

“I was not scheduled for a meeting with anyone from the police today!” the coroner said. He stepped out from behind his desk and snatched up the papers that Ridley had been perusing.

“It’s Mr Gamley isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“We don’t have an appointment sir, this is a more informal meeting about a body that came in last night,” Nairo said in a pleasant tone.

“What body?” Gamley paled at the mention of Benny’s body.

“Goblin, cut himself shaving,” Ridley replied. He narrowed his eyes at Nairo, who returned his look with a small arch of her eyebrow.

“Well, what is there to say?” Gamley said. “Just some thug got his throat slit. Get them all the time.”

“Nothing unusual about this one?“ Ridley asked, eyeing the coroner carefully.

“What are you getting at? And who the hell are you? I haven’t even seen a badge or... or anything!” He was red faced and twitchy, shuffling from foot to foot.

Ridley looked at Nairo, who sighed and pulled out her badge for the coroner to look at.

“Well she’s police, who the hell are you?” Gamley jabbed a yellow nailed finger at Ridley.

“Consultant. You’re welcome to send a scroll to Captain Mallory if you want. In the meantime, we’ve got some questions.” Ridley flapped his coat around and plonked himself down on a chair.

Nairo followed suit and sat down, back straight and with a reassuring smile she gestured for the coroner to sit down. He harrumphed, shuffled some papers and finally relented, throwing himself into his shabby leather chair.

“It’s all there in the report, that’s why I write them, I’m too busy to talk to every overzealous copper,” he huffed.

“Do you have a copy?” Nairo asked.

“What?”

“A copy of your report.”

“Well somewhere, I don’t know, I don’t do the bloody paperwork!” He crossed his arms across his rotund stomach and glared at Nairo.

“You do realise this is a homicide investigation, right?” Nairo asked him her tone level but she was beginning to grow annoyed with the coroner’s attitude.

“Of course I do, girl! I’m the chief bloody coroner!”

“Then you know, right now, you are holding up my investigation. If a murderer gets away because of your obstinance then I’ll have a collar that needs filling and I’m sure you don’t want a pissed off copper with an axe to grind looking into your business.” The longer she spoke the harder her voice became. She glared two holes in the sweaty coroner who squirmed and harrumphed again.

“Don’t threaten me girl, I play golf with your boss!” he snapped, wagging a grubby finger at her.

“My boss doesn’t play golf,” Nairo said coldly.

“He does have a mean short game though,” Ridley sniggered.

Nairo clenched her jaw so hard she heard a crack as she tried to avoid laughing. The coroner glowered at Nairo but this wasn’t a battle he was equipped to win. His shoulders sagged and he looked away. Without another word, he reached into his drawer and pulled out a folder, tossing it across the desk.

“Thank you,” Nairo said sweetly.

She opened the folder and began reading. She stopped after a few seconds and looked at Ridley, pointing at something on the report.

“What? What is it?” Gamley blustered.

Ridley looked at the report, furrowed his brow, then looked at the coroner.

“Knife?” he said incredulously.

“Serrated blade, yes.”

“Are you serious?”

“Son, I’ve been doing this for thirty years, I’ve examined more corpses than you’ve had dinners!” Gamly retorted hotly.

“Ain’t no blade I’ve ever seen do that,” Ridley said.

“How could you tell anything? The scene was a bloodbath, by all accounts,” Gamley said suspiciously.

“We’ve seen the… ow!”

Nairo smiled and removed her foot from on top of Ridley’s.

“It’s just that the wound at the time seemed unusual,” Nairo said.

“You can never tell what a blade will do to flesh,” Gamley said quickly.

“There were blood spatters on the wall four feet behind him,” Nairo replied.

“Unusual, but it happens.” The coroner’s tone had become flippant and offhand.

Ridley and Nairo sat there completely nonplussed.

“What about the burns!” Ridley exclaimed, unable to believe what he was hearing.

“What burns?” Gamley had become defensive again, his piggy eyes were flicking from Nairo to Ridley, deeply suspicious.

“Never mind,” Nairo interjected.

“But…”

“I think we’ve got everything we need here,” Nairo said as she stood up.

“We have?”

“Yes Ridley.” She turned to the coroner. “Thank you for your time, Mr Gamley.”

“My report,” he said, holding out a meaty hand.

“I’m sure you have copies,” Nairo smiled and turned to walk out.

“The Captain will be hearing about this!” Gamley blustered as Nairo walked out of the room.

Ridley stood up and sniffed before giving the coroner a sideways look and following Nairo.