12 – Murder

Ward was looking directly at Lisa when the scream rang out, and she looked convincingly startled. He only had that thought because part of his mind was already suspicious of her, and he couldn’t help wondering about the odd coincidence of her meandering over to them moments before the outburst. More shouts, including the captain barking orders, broke him from his mental analysis of Lisa’s behavior, and he said, “We should go see what happened.”

“I was about to suggest the same,” Lisa agreed, leading the way.

Haley quickly followed but slowed for Ward, giving him a sideways glance. “Is everything all right?”

“I guess so. I’m just feeling…strange. It’s almost like I expected something like this to happen.”

“Like a premonition?”

“Nah, more like a feeling. It could be nothing, or maybe someone we spoke to at dinner gave my subconscious a few clues. It’ll come clear as we investigate.”

“Investigate?”

Ward nodded to her. “Yeah. It’s what I do.” By then, they’d come up against the back of a crowd—passengers and crew members in a tight circle around the captain and a sobbing Gertrude. She clung to the captain’s stained uniform jacket, ugly crying as the man awkwardly patted her back. Using his height and bulk, Ward pushed his way through the crowd, making room for Lisa and Haley. When he got to the front line of onlookers, he saw why Gertrude was weeping: Raymond lay face down on the deck with a wide pool of blood spreading around him.

“That’s a lot of blood,” he grunted, squatting to get a better look.

One of the crew pointed up to the second-level railing on the captain’s castle. “He fell from there!”

Again, Ward said, “That’s a lot of blood…for a fall.” He reached for the man’s shoulder and, when no one objected, tugged it, turning the body on its side. Raymond’s head lolled back, revealing a throat that had been cut to the spine. “Jesus.”

Gertrude fainted, and the captain caught her. “Secure that body, James! Everyone clear out! Give my crew room to work!”

A large, swarthy man wearing a very ripe, stained tunic brushed past Ward to scoop up the man’s body while some other crew members began pushing forward, saying things like, “A’right, folks, back to yer cabins. Captain will get to the bottom of this.”

“Sir!” Lisa cried, her voice outraged. “Did no one see the crime?”

The captain, already turning to carry Gerty away, looked back and frowned at Lisa, whose eyes shone particularly brightly in the dim light of the nearby gas lamps. “Nah, miss. When me and my crew arrived, ‘twas just this old dame standing o’er the body.”

Ward stood from where he’d been inspecting the enormous bloody pool. He approached the captain just as the man handed Gerty’s insensate form off to a pair of crewmen. “Captain, I think I can help you figure out what happened.”

The captain regarded Ward, looming over him in his dark coat and hat. He shrank back a little and shrugged. “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but how am I to know you didn’t do the deed?”

Ward shrugged. “Because I was in plain view the entire time, walking the deck over there with Haley. Several of your crew saw us.”

“And I was with them!” Lisa interjected, stepping forward. “I’ll aid Ward in his investigation, Captain. I might know a spell or two that could help.”

Again, the captain shrank back as he regarded Lisa. He sucked his teeth as he contemplated, then slowly began to nod as he looked at Ward. “It’s my job to get this boat to Westview, and I’d be glad no’ta have any more dying in’tha process. If’n ya can find the murderer, I’ll refund yer passage fee.”

Ward watched the two crewmen carrying Gertrude away and reached up to idly scratch his head under his hat band. “I’ll need to talk to Gertrude. Did she say anything to you?”

“Just babbling nonsense.” The captain shrugged, then turned to his nearby crew members, “Clear everyone out and swab this damn mess!”

Ward frowned at the widening pool of blood, then stepped back in surprise when he saw Lisa kneel to soak a clean, white linen handkerchief in the stuff. “Someone give me a jar,” she said.

“What you want with that blood?” the captain asked. When Lisa glared up at him with her bright eyes, he snapped his fingers at one of his crew and said, “You ‘eard her, Lonny! Fetch a jar.”

“With a lid!” Lisa called after him. She looked at Ward and added, “I might be able to divine something from the blood. There’s a chance I can speak to Raymond’s spirit.”

The captain backed away, lifting his knuckles to his forehead. “Now, wouldn’t tha’ be a pretty trick? I’d rather not be present if it’s all the same.”

Ward nodded slowly, wondering if Lisa was playing on superstitions or if she really knew some words that could contact a person’s spirit through their blood. He watched some crew members approach with mops and buckets, and the detective in him wanted to shout everyone away, rope off the scene, and wait for the crime processing folks, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen—not on that ship and not on that world. Instead, he pointed to the railing on the captain’s castle. “I’m going to have a look around up there.”

“I’ll catch up.” Lisa held her bloody handkerchief up by way of explanation.

Ward nodded and started around the metal wall of the castle, aiming for the stairs on the side. Haley was close behind him, and he turned to her. “What do you think of Lisa?”

“I think it’s a little strange that she claimed to be with us since dinner.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly.” He lowered his voice and added, “Don’t mention my spell, you know the one.”

“The secrets one?”

“Right. We’ll use it on the body later, but I don’t want Lisa tagging along.”

Haley nodded. “I understand.”

Ward looked closely at the stairs as they ascended, scanning for anything out of place. He figured if someone had slit Raymond’s throat, they would have had a bloody knife to deal with and that maybe he’d see a droplet of blood or two. He didn’t see anything, though, and soon they were on the second level. They walked around the front of the castle, and sure enough, Haley spotted smears of blood on the railing where Raymond had gone over. Ward studied the scene, squatting to look at the droplets on the ground.

Haley started to move past him, but he stretched out an arm, blocking her. “Look,” he said, pointing to a smeared droplet. “Someone stepped in that.” The problem was that it was a mostly smooth, flat smear, and almost everyone’s shoes on the entire planet were leather-soled with no tread. He stood and pointed to the top rail. “Well, this is the scene of the murder, that’s for sure. See those tiny dapples of blood—like they were sprayed out? That’s from his lungs emptying through his slit throat. He probably tried to scream before his brain realized he was dead.”

“Horrible.” Haley tip-toed around the smeared blood stain on the deck and peered over the railing. “They’re still cleaning up, and Lisa just waved at me.”

“Why don’t you follow the walkway around? Maybe the killer ditched the knife.” Ward was leaning closer to the smeared footprint, frowning. He was fairly sure he could see the stitch pattern along the edge, where the cobbler would have sewn the uppers to the sole. If he wasn’t wrong, there was a tiny notch on the edge of the print. It could simply be the way the blood had splashed down before someone stepped in it, but it might be a lead. “I wish I had a camera.”

Haley was gone, so she didn’t reply, and Grace was still hiding from Lisa, but he didn’t mind talking to himself. Ward found it helped him think. He had a moment to wonder if cameras were even a thing in his new reality before another idea struck him. “Haley!” he called. She didn’t respond right away, and Ward didn’t want to leave the scene to the mercies of the cleaning crew, so he called again, louder, “Haley!”

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Footsteps pounding heralded her return as she ran back. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, sorry, can you run to our cabin and get me a sheet of paper? Just rip one out of the back of that notebook I bought.”

She nodded. “Be right back!” She ran past him toward the stairs, her boots ringing on the metal steps.

While he waited, Ward cupped his hands around the smeared bloodstain, trying to keep the sea breeze from drying it too much. He listened to the commotion below as the crew worked, some of them making crass jokes and others—quite reasonably—frightened by the grisly murder. He didn’t have to wait long before Haley’s pounding steps overshadowed the noise. He heard a startled yelp and Haley saying, “Excuse me,” and then she was there holding out a sheet of cream-colored paper.

“Thanks.” Ward took the paper and delicately placed it atop the smear. He didn’t know if he should press down on it, but when he didn’t see the stain coming through the paper, he figured it was too dry to soak in on its own, so he very carefully patted the top with fluttering fingertips. He lifted the paper and smiled at his work; the print was there, complete with a notch and the stitching pattern on the killer’s sole. He gently blew on it, ensuring it dried.

Delicate footsteps approached, and then Lisa asked from behind him, “What have you got there?”

To Ward’s surprise and delight, Haley supplied the excuse for him kneeling near the blood, holding a piece of paper. “Ward used to work as an outlaw hunter. He likes to take notes about what he sees.”

“An outlaw hunter? Really? Did you work for the Assembly?”

Ward delicately touched the print, ensuring the blood was dry, then folded the page. As he stood, he carefully tucked it into his inner coat pocket. “No, Lisa. I investigated criminals in a different world. I’m new to Vainglory.”

“Oh? That would explain your accent! How intriguing. You’ll need to tell me more about your travels!” She looked past him to the mess on the deck and railing. “Anything of note?”

“Only that I can confirm this was where Raymond was killed.”

Lisa nodded, and Ward saw she clutched a small canning jar with the bloody handkerchief inside. “That’s helpful. At least we know he wasn’t killed elsewhere and carried here to be thrown over.”

“Or that he wasn’t attacked and then ran here,” Haley added. “Ward says that fine, mist-pattern of blood is likely from him exhaling in surprise as he was cut.”

Lisa’s eyes widened slightly, and she touched her throat with her long, slender fingers. “Awful.”

“Yeah, messy business.” Ward pointed to the jar she clutched. “You can contact his spirit?”

“I can try, though we must hurry before his anima begins to disperse. That will mean his soul has crossed over.”

“How long does that take?” Haley asked.

“It depends. If a body is left in peace, it usually takes less than an hour. If the soul is stubborn, it could take as long as a day.”

Ward frowned, thinking about all the ways people could die. “And if the body isn’t left in peace? If someone dies in a fire or something?”

“Then the transition is forced and immediate.” Lisa turned and started walking toward the stairs. “Why don’t you two join me in my cabin, and we’ll try the spell?”

Haley looked at Ward questioningly, and he shrugged. “Let’s go; I won’t complain about seeing a new spell.” They followed Lisa down to the deck and then to the main passenger compartment. Lisa turned down a side passage before they reached the end of the central corridor where Ward and Haley’s cabin was. After a short walk, they came to a door with a decidedly more upscale polished brass latch-wheel as opposed to the painted iron of most of the other doors.

Upon entering, Ward realized why; she was in a suite—a room with a large bed, a small table and chairs, and a door to an ensuite bathroom. “I was fortunate to book my passage in time to claim one of the suites,” she said, watching Haley and Ward gawp at the finely appointed space. “Please close the door; we wouldn’t want to alarm the other passengers when I speak the words.”

Haley pulled the door shut, and Ward took off his hat, hanging it on the rack next to the door before sitting at the little table. The whole while, he watched Lisa. She took off her embroidered, crimson bolero jacket, tossing it onto her bed. Then she walked around to where a green—lacquered steamer trunk sat against the wall. Hiking her skirts, she knelt before it, shifting the contents around as she looked for something.

Haley sat beside Ward and jerked her chin at Lisa. “You should talk about trading spells.”

Before Ward could respond, Lisa said, “I was going to ask Ward about that on the voyage. I thought perhaps we ought to know each other a little better first.”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Haley replied, reaching up to fidget with the top button of her blouse. “You and Ward are the only sorcerers I’ve known. Well, and Nevkin.”

Lisa stood, clutching a modestly-sized book with a flower-printed dust jacket. “Nevkin? The name rings a bell.”

“He was in the catacombs with us.”

“Oh! The fellow with the tattooed head. I didn’t know he had the touch.”

Haley inhaled, ready to expound, but Ward caught her eye and almost imperceptibly shook his head. Haley nodded slightly. “I think he might have.”

Lisa opened her little jar and gingerly lifted out the blood-soaked handkerchief. “A pity that I was so quick to volunteer my kerchief—this one was one of my favorites.” She set it on the black-painted wooden planks, then stepped back. “Hmm, makes you wonder what else the paint on these old floorboards is hiding, doesn’t it?”

“Not really,” Ward chuckled. “I’ve seen too many bad cleanups after messy crimes. Nobody ever cleans between the boards. I mean, you can’t really, not perfectly, not without ruining the floor. Our crew would cut the boards out and find all kinds of evidence in the gunk they scraped up.”

Lisa looked at him askance, tapping her chin in contemplation as she said, “Intriguing.” She picked up her little book and held it up. “Forgive me, but I’ve not prepared this spell; it’s not something I’d use every day. It’ll take me just a few minutes.”

Ward nodded and watched as Lisa began to dance. He could tell she was moving into the forms for whatever words of power her spell required, but she seemed far more graceful than he ever felt, and it made him lean close to Haley and whisper, “She looks a lot better doing that than I do, right?”

“Well, you’re always sitting—”

“Not for the, uh, the one I used on you.”

“I didn’t see you prepare that one, did I?” To his relief, Haley smiled and winked at him. Then she added, “But you’re right; she’s far more graceful than you.”

“Thanks.” Ward smirked and elbowed her. He watched Lisa move, wondering if the fact that her forms were all done from a standing position meant they were higher level, like the ones for the spell he’d used to bring Haley back. Watching her, the more he thought about it, the more he realized the movements looked familiar. Ward was ninety percent sure that some of the forms were the same ones he’d used in the other spell.

All too soon, Lisa stopped moving and looked at Ward and Haley with gleaming eyes. “Ready?”

Haley clapped her hands over her ears and nodded. Ward said, “Yeah.”

Lisa nodded and focused on the bloody handkerchief. After inhaling deeply, she said, “Spirvak Dhravek Prakhun Vrothun!”

The words emerged from her mouth clear and sharp, and Ward knew he recognized at least three of them. Because of their fleeting nature, though, he knew he’d have to look at his grimoire to be sure, and by then, he might have forgotten what he heard. The words seemed to bounce around the metal-walled cabin, and the gas lamps flickered and faded as dark shadows gathered. Ward felt his hackles rise as a chill ran down his spine. Glancing at Haley, he saw her eyes squeezed tight and her hands pressing against her ears while foggy puffs plumed out with her panting breaths.

Lisa stood over the handkerchief, her eyes wide, streaming tears of blood as she stared at something in front of her. It took Ward a second to notice the foggy shadows coalescing in the air before her, spreading into the ethereal shape of a man. After a dozen seconds or so, the man’s likeness solidified into a sallow, translucent version of the living, flesh-and-bone one Ward had met at dinner—Raymond. His jowls trembled as he looked around, and focusing on Lisa, he wailed in a voice that echoed hollowly, “Why?”

Lisa braced one hand on the post of her luxurious bed, then leaned toward the spirit. “Who killed you, Raymond? Who cut your throat?”

Raymond looked around the room as though confused or lost, his eyes gliding over Ward and Haley as though they weren’t there. He looked at Lisa again and cried, “Why?”

“Who, Raymond? Who killed you?” Lisa was yelling now, her voice shrill with strain. Ward could see the spell had been a bit much for her; she looked like she’d just been mugged.

Raymond’s spirit reached his wispy fingers toward his misty, flabby neck, probing oddly at it. “I—” he looked over his shoulder, and his eyes widened with fear.

“Who?” Lisa yelled.

“I don’t know!” the spirit wailed, and then, like someone threw a switch, the shadows and mist dispersed, and he came apart like a stiff breeze had blown him away. The lights flickered back to life, and Haley exhaled loudly.

“Gods!”

Lisa sighed and collapsed on the foot of her bed, flopping back. “Oof! That spell hurts!”

Ward stood and stepped closer to her, looking at the bloody kerchief as he stepped over it. The blood was nearly brown, utterly devoid of moisture. “You gonna be okay?”

Lisa smiled and held out a hand. When Ward pulled her into a sitting position, he noticed her fingers were ice cold—even colder than Haley’s when she skipped her Gopah. She smiled at him. “I will. A good night’s sleep will put me right, though I might have red eyes for a few days. I’m sorry the spell didn’t reveal anything; his spirit was traumatized.”

“Not too hard to imagine.” Ward shrugged. “He didn’t strike me as a man of violence, and that was a very violent death.” He glanced at Haley, then back to Lisa. “Let’s all get some rest, hmm? We can interview Gertrude in the morning and maybe have a look at the body.”

“Yes.” Lisa nodded, peering past Ward to make eye contact with Haley. “Thank you both for including me. Shall we meet in the galley for breakfast?”

“Sounds good.” Ward looked at her for another second, then nodded, turning to the door. He took his hat from the hook. “Sleep well.”

“Yes, goodnight,” Haley called as she followed Ward out the door.

Lisa called after them before he closed it tight, “Good night!”

Ward pulled the door shut and twisted the wheel to latch it solidly. He looked at Haley with a grin and whispered, “C’mon.”

“Where?” she whispered back.

“Well, first, we’ll stop by the room so I can get my spellbook, and then we’re going to check out Raymond’s body.”

Haley punched him in the arm and hissed, “Secrets!”

Ward winked at her, “That’s right.”