Entering the metropolis area was like entering a bank. Only difference was that instead of walls and armed guards there was an invisible line circling the area. Cross that line and a hundred gargoyles would swoop down from the nearest buildings. If one was lucky, they’d get caught quickly without much hassle. If not… I had heard talk that a mage unit had to be called in to clean the mess. Officially, the intruder was said to have been caught with a suitcase of explosion charms. Whether that really had happened I had no idea. All the metropolitans cared about was to keep their surroundings pretty, shiny, and somewhat safe. In that they succeeded flawlessly.
“The place has changed since you’ve last been here,” Clayton said as the rune carriage flew over the buildings. It was a five-year model, on the verge of being considered gauche in social circles. The H-Sec crest on it ensured complete access to virtually the entire city without stops or checks.
“Not that much.”
I had spent six months here, most of them in an emergency hospital ward. Normally someone such as myself wouldn’t merit such treatment, but as the only witness of the Midnight Ten case, exceptions were made. It was at that point that I had managed to get a glance of the richer half through a bulletproof window.
“Where are we headed?” I asked.
“Beachwater.”
I whistled.
“Told you this is a big case.”
“I’ll do my best not to embarrass you.”
Beachwater was one of those places where even the rich felt out of place. When it came to living there, it wasn’t just a matter of money, but political clout. Historically, it was said to be one of the places first seen by humans upon arriving to my world. Unlike most parts of the city, it had remained mostly unchanged. As far as I knew, it was the only place that combined fine sand, lush vegetation, and cutting edge Earth technology.
Less than fifty buildings located in half a square mile of serene beauty I hadn’t seen since childhood. One single road went through the district, used exclusively for emergencies and large-scale deliveries. At present, it was full of city cars and ambulances. Looking down, they looked out-of-place like ants on a fresh piece of exotic fruit. Several cars moved out of the way, allowing Clayton’s carriage to land.
“Stay here for a bit,” he said as he made his way out. “Need to clear things with my boss.”
“Didn’t you say you cleared everything?” I asked, mildly amused.
“I’d received permission,” he clarified. “I still need to tell him what’s going on.” He rushed off along the marble pathway into the building. I had no choice but to stay and wait.
Ten seconds in, I could already tell that the local city guards disliked me. The only time they’d seen a water spirit in such a high-class neighborhood was probably as a suspect. To be honest, I couldn’t blame them. During my investigations, I’d brushed elbows with enough spirits to know that most of the charted ones were linked with some form of criminal activity. Those that weren’t, worked for the city bureaucracy.
“Not the welcome you expected?” a female voice asked.
A tall woman dressed in a casual outfit was leaning on the other side of the carriage. Her suit was identical to Clayton’s, though she wore it way better. She’d removed her coat, which only made her features more pronounced beneath the synthetic white shirt. A H-Sec crest hung on a chain round her neck. Most remarkable of all, she was a natural ginger. The color was almost non-existent in my world, making her seem equal parts dangerous and alluring. If I’d met her under different circumstances, I’d probably offer to buy her a drink even if I knew it would end poorly.
“I didn’t expect much,” I replied. “Neptune Waters.”
“I know.” The woman smiled and opened the door. “Get out.”
“Don’t I get a name, Detective?” I did as I was told.
The woman looked at me from head to toe, then smirked.
“Maybe when you get some decent clothes. Now, let’s see the crime scene.”
“Detective Clayton told me to stay—”
“You can go out If I say you can.” The slight edge in her voice made it clear she didn’t like being contradicted. “Clay swore you were the hottest thing out there, so I want to see for myself.”
Not the best start. Then again, as my cousin liked to say, I had a lot to look forward to.
The detective took me past the uniform guards to the main lobby of the building. There, we made our way to the private elevator that led us to the seventh floor. I could tell by the building materials that went into the building that the place was reserved for the filthy rich. When the elevator doors slid open, my suspicions were confirmed. The only times I’d seen such opulence were from the pages of waiting room magazines.
Everything, furniture included, was made of chrome, glass and marble. The architect had made wonders using the space to create a private biome, merging the hardness of the man-made materials with the gentle organic warmness of several gardens that spread through the space. An orchard of mini-cherry blossoms was placed near the far wall next to an artificial stream that ran along its lane to another part of the apartment.
The body was in plain sight, lying on the floor face down fifteen feet from the entrance. He was wearing a casual white suit of artificial silt that almost made him blend in with the floor. A dark puddle of blood was visible near his head, suggesting a potential cause of death.
Taking one step out of the elevator, I stopped. A dozen people of the Rune Investigation unit were combing the scene for clues, all dressed in their bright orange uniforms.
“May I?” I pointed in the direction of the body.
“Guys, give us a minute,” the ginger detective said.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at her. Moments later, they looked at me. Already I’d been put in a lose-lose situation. If I failed to find something they’d missed, I’d be publicly humiliated. If I did—they would. The RI investigators probably thought the same, for several of them moved away from the body, leaving me enough space to get on with it.
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“Knock yourself out.” The detective crossed her arms.
“Are there any witnesses to what happened?” I asked in a very by-the-book manner.
“Everyone’s giving statements downstairs. Talk freely.”
Nice trick. Whenever someone told me to talk freely, that was the last thing I should do. At the same time, I was expected to talk.
“The body was staged.” I made my way to the unfortunate victim. He was a bit overweight for someone of his standing, probably due to a combination of work stress and bad habits. “The way he’s lying suggests he’d made his way from the elevator when something happened.” From the corner of my eye, I could see the grin on the detective’s face. “But there are no footprints coming from there, so someone must have moved him.” I slid my fingers along the surface of the floor. “Or turned him.”
I looked at my finger. It was perfectly clean, with only the slightest trace of essence.
“Did you swab the whole place? I’m not feeling a lot of magic around?”
“High-society construction,” the detective said. “No charms, no trinkets. Only magic is within the tech. Not something you’re familiar with, huh?”
I ignored the provocation, looking closely at the man’s head. There was an opening the size of a coin on the size of his temple. I’d have preferred to poke inside the wound with my water to see how far it went, but that was a job for the medical examiner.
“Apparent cause of death is a large puncture on his left temple, going all the way through to the other side. I’d guess that’s where the blood came from?”
The lack of response suggested I was right. Taking a step back, I looked at the man’s left hand. The thumb and index finger were coated with a thin layer of residual magic.
“You didn’t find any murder weapon, did you?” Transforming my hand into water, I checked his vest pockets. They appeared to be empty, though I still felt the same trace of residual magic.
“No, not for now.”
“You won’t find any.” I straightened up, returning my hand to normal. “What’s that way?” I pointed in the direction of the stream.
“The kitchen, the guest room, and a lot of—”
“The kitchen,” I cut her short, heading in the direction.
The detective quickly followed. The pacing of her footsteps made it clear that she didn’t appreciate being interrupted. However, she was professional enough not to make an issue of it as long as I produced results.
The “kitchen” was a large open space, separated from the rest of the apartment by two walls at a hundred-and twenty-degree angle. It had everything one could hope for: shelves, electronic ovens, three sinks, two fridges, and lots of other appliances. All had the golden seal indicating they were made on Earth.
“What are you searching for?” the ginger asked as I went through the ovens.
“People this rich don’t use their kitchen for cooking.” I took out a metal tray out from one of the ovens. There were two vintage cookie boxes on top. “They use them for decoration and for hiding things.” I opened the box. The sensation of magic hit me as a pile of multicolored coins was revealed. “Here’s your murder weapon,” I said, picking up a red coin. “Only a person ashamed of using charms would hide them close at hand.” I looked closer.
“How did you miss this?” The detective turned to the closest Rune Investigator.
“We hadn’t reached the kitchen.” The man raised his hands in front of his chest defensively.
“Check everything else!” the woman hissed, then moved closer to me. “Uppers?” she asked.
“Some of them, maybe. Not this one, though. Whoever made it had a wicked sense of humor. Someone made a hang charm to look like a painkiller.”
“Hang charm?” one of the RIs asked.
“A drill charm used mostly for hanging frames. You press it against a hard surface and it makes a small hole to place a support rod.”
“I’ve seen it used for knee capping in the slums. Strictly speaking, your victim killed himself. He was doing something in the apartment, possibly work related, went to get something from his stash to relieve his headache, then snap—instant headshot.”
“I see.” The detective nodded. “No trace of the weapon since the charm’s gone. Only some magic residue on the fingers and temple.”
“Yep.” I dropped the coin back in the cookie box and handed it to one of the RIs. “Whoever made the charm enhanced it to make sure it did the job.”
“Find out what each of the charms do and where he bought them from,” the detective ordered. “I want to see a report by the end of the day! And finish processing the scene! If you missed this, there might have been other things as well.”
People quickly rushed back to their jobs. I didn’t envy them. Working on such a high-profile case could make or break anyone’s career, even a metropolitan.
“So?” I smiled at the detective. “Did I pass?”
“We would have come to the same conclusion.” She refused to concede. “You just saved some time.”
“Fair enough. I guess now we must find who in the family was involved and what they’re hiding.”
“Why do you think any of them are involved?”
“Someone moved the body. They’re not the killer or they’d have taken the charms. Still, they did take something, dragged the body, then used some charm or device to mask their own footprints. Quite a lot of effort for someone not involved.”
“Oh? You could tell this just by looking at the crime scene?”
“Sort of.”
In truth, I’d let a layer of water as thick as a molecule brush over the floor ever since we’d entered the building. It used to do the same back when I was working at Duty and Customs. The secret of being a good seer wasn’t the ability to glance into the future, but the ability to seamlessly gather physical information. And I was very good at my job. A pity that there were so many ways through charms of devices to hide traces. My job would have been a lot easier otherwise.
After doing my little show, I was dragged back to the elevator. Apparently, the surviving witnesses were giving statements somewhere outside. I didn’t know anything about H-Sec protocols, but if they were anything like those of the city guards, witness statements were taken within half hour of arrival and again two hours later. In this case, I wouldn’t be surprised if each of the family members had a lawyer at hand.
“So, who’s the victim?” I asked as the elevator went down.
“Janas Kode, senior researcher at Ellcron. Has a wife, two children—one of which still lives in the house.” A holopane emerged in front of me—the culmination of charms and human electronics. “Owns no other property or company shares, as per his corporate contract. Parents are deceased. His grandmother was originally from Earth, which earned him his start at Ellcron.” The contents of the holopane shifted. “Rich, no official arrests, no particularly bad vices, and no mistress.”
“No mistress?” I looked at the image of his wife. Considering how plain she was beneath her jewelry and expensive clothes, I found that hard to believe.
“Ellcron, apparently, offers an escort service to some of his researchers.” The woman scoffed. “We’re still waiting for official statements from the corp, but everyone else we’re spoken to describe him as quiet and driven. Not someone who’d normally be targeted.”
“You’re be surprised how often the “quiet driven ones” usually are. How do we proceed now?”
The holopane vanished from the air.
“Clay must have finished getting you cleared with the lieutenant, so you’ll join in taking witness statements.” The elevator stopped. “When I say join in, I mean observe. No asking anything without my say so and don’t even try using any charms.”
“Never even crossed my mind,” I lied, as I pulled back the invisible layer of water into myself. For now, it was better not to cause too much waves.
“And it’s Nixen,” she said just as the doors opened. “Detective Konstanza Nixen.”