by N. P. Martin
I stared at him for a second, slightly stunned. Then I looked at the sheets of paper in my hand and realized he was telling the truth. There had been so much red tape involved in trying to get the report that I had completely forgotten about it. "I won’t ask how you got this."
Iolas shrugged. "It wasn’t hard. I knew you were having some difficulties getting hold of it, so I thought I would help."
"Thanks." I probably would’ve been more grateful if Iolas wasn’t the one who handed me the report. As it was, he didn’t seem too annoyed by my lack of gratitude.
He came forward then and put a firm hand on my shoulder. "I want you to know that I’ve launched my own investigation into your mother’s death," he said. "You might find that report interesting reading."
"Why?"
"Because your mother was a friend, as I’ve already told you." He focused his blue eyes on me. "We may have had our differences of opinion, but we respected each other."
Not what I meant; I was talking more about the autopsy report. "I’m sure the feeling was mutual."
Iolas stared at me a moment, as though he wasn’t sure if I was being sarcastic or not. "Anyway," he said eventually. "I’ll let you know if anything more turns up. In the meantime, I’ll get Amelia to drive you home. I’m sure you have… stuff to do."
With that, he walked away, back inside the house. Amelia was already waiting in the car. Putting the autopsy report in my pocket, I went and joined her. As she drove me into the city, we hardly spoke. Not that I minded, since my thoughts were mostly on the report inside my pocket anyway, and what I might find within it. When we finally pulled up outside the bookshop, I told Amelia I would see her later and went to get out, but as I did, she stopped me by saying, "Hey."
"What?"
"Would you like to get a drink with me later?"
I stared at her, half in shock, not sure what to say. "No offense, Amelia, but I don’t think you like me very much."
She turned her head away for a second as she sighed slightly. "It’s just a drink. If you don’t want to…"
In that moment, she seemed vulnerable, despite trying to appear the opposite, and I sort of felt sorry for her. Her loneliness was palpable. "What time?"
"Around seven. I’ll pick you up here."
I nodded. "Okay, see you then."
I closed the door and she sped off without another glance, leaving me standing there for a moment as I felt like I could finally breathe again. "This day can’t get any weirder…"
Though something told me it probably would.
Chapter 13
My instincts were proved right as I entered the bookshop, as it turned out. I walked in to find Dalia standing in the middle of the shop with some other woman. The other woman was human, in her early thirties with long reddish hair. She stood like she was in some sort of trance as Dalia’s dark energy surrounded her, clearly probing the woman in various places.
"What the fuck?" I said.
Dalia jumped like I’d startled her, and the dark energy surrounding the woman suddenly disappeared as it retreated back inside Dalia. "Corvin," she said, seeming vaguely embarrassed, as though I’d just caught her in some sort of perverted act, which I wasn’t entirely sure I hadn’t. "I wasn’t expecting you until later."
I shook my head at her, but refrained from saying anything else, because the red-haired woman was blinking like she had just awakened from a dream. "Oh, I’m sorry," she said shaking her head slightly in confusion. "I must’ve zoned out there for a moment."
"Don’t worry about it," Dalia said, smiling like she hadn’t just been getting her rocks off at the woman’s expense. "It happens to me all the time." Her smile remained as she threw me a glance.
Then the woman suddenly noticed me standing there. "Hello," she said a bit uncertainly, as though she still weren’t in her right mind yet.
"Hi," I said, smiling. "I hope Dalia here is looking after you."
"Of course I am," Dalia said, handing the woman a book. "Here’s the book you were after."
The woman took the book like she could hardly remember asking for it. Come to think of it, she looked like she could hardly remember entering the shop at all. "Oh, right, thank you."
"No problem," Dalia said like she was all about the customer service. "Come again, won’t you?"
The woman went to reach into her purse. "How much do I…"
"You already paid me."
The woman seemed even more confused now. "Right… okay…"
I opened the door for the woman as she left the shop, still mightily confused it seemed. When she left I locked the door and then turned to look at Dalia. "Really? That poor woman didn’t know what hit her."
Dalia sighed as she sat behind the desk. "I get bored in here. If you don’t want me amusing myself with the customers, find someone proper to work here."
"I will, when I get a chance."
Dalia smiled. "If Chance gets a chance."
I shook my head at her. "Is that supposed to be funny?"
"No, I just felt like saying it. How was your first day at work for Iolas? Did you crack any skulls, break any fingers… squeeze any balls?"
"Not really." I leaned over the desk, opened the top drawer and took out the whiskey bottle, which was almost empty. Then I found a glass and emptied the bottle into it.
"I bet your elven beauty did, though, right?"
"Amelia may have kicked some ass."
"Amelia? On first name terms now, are we?"
"Well, yes, since I have to work with her."
"How long are you going to keep this charade up?"
"Until I don’t have to." I took a drink of the whiskey. "Until I prove Iolas killed me ma."
"You’re still convinced he did it." It was more of a statement than a question.
"At this point, he’s the only viable suspect."
"In your mind anyway. For all you know there could be some hood from Finglas running about out there trying to fence your ma’s jewelry."
I stared at her, indignant, but only because I knew she could be right. "Don’t get a stick up your arse just because I caught you violating a customer."
She made a huffing noise and shook her head. "Violating… I don’t violate anybody. That woman now has less pain inside her than when she came in."
"Oh, so you did her a favor then. My bad."
"I can’t help what I am, Corvin. As long as no one gets hurt…"
I couldn’t help but laugh. "Whatever." Reaching into my pocket, I took out the autopsy report and showed it to her. "Iolas gave me this."
"What is it?" Dalia sat up straight in her chair, her curiosity piqued it seemed. "A cease and desist order?"
"No, smartass, it’s me ma’s autopsy report."
The smile vanished from her face. "Oh, sorry."
"I thought you could look over it, since you’d probably understand it better than me."
Before Dalia was taken by the Fae, she was studying medicine at Trinity. She didn’t have long left in her studies before she was snatched away, which made her practically a real doctor in my eyes. "Let me see."
I gave her the report and she sat and read over it for a few minutes while I finished of the whiskey in my glass. "Well?" I asked her. "Anything interesting in there? Iolas says there is."
Dalia frowned for a moment as she read the report, then said, "This can’t be right."
"What is it?"
"It says here that Teresa didn’t die from her stab wound, and her main cause of death was massive internal bleeding."
"Caused by what?"
Dalia shook her head. "It doesn’t say. Whoever did the autopsy couldn’t figure it out."
"So something was done to her before or after she was stabbed?"
"Before, I’d say, just going by this report."
I stared hard at the floor for a moment as I thought things over. "Massive internal bleeding… what could’ve caused that?"
"Trauma," Dalia said. "The report indicates that Teresa’s
internal organs were severely damaged and that she had multiple broken bones, but yet her body contained no bruising or the external signs of trauma one would expect from such injuries."
My face darkened as I suddenly realized something. "She was killed by magic, that’s why there was no external damage." I should’ve picked up on the presence of magic at the time, but I had been too distraught to notice.
"And the stab wound?"
"A half-assed attempt to make her death look like a robbery."
"Hence the missing jewelry."
"Exactly."
My jaw tensed as I clenched my teeth. It felt like Iolas was playing with me, and I didn’t like it. Telling me how interesting the autopsy report was… what was that about? I was convinced now more than ever that he had something to do with the murder, if not directly then certainly indirectly.
"Are you okay, Corvin?" Dalia put her hand on my leg and left it there.
I nodded, my neck stiff. "I can’t believe I missed something so fucking obvious."
"Your mother was dying, Corvin. No one could blame you for missing the signs."
Getting off the desk, I stood up and put both hands on my head, as though I was trying to stop my skull from splitting. "This doesn’t change anything, except for the fact that we now know this wasn’t a simple robbery. It was calculated murder by magic."
Dalia shook her head. "I don’t understand," she said. "Teresa was strong, magically speaking. How could someone do that to her?"
"She probably fought back. I know she would’ve."
"But it wasn’t enough."
I sighed. "No."
"Do you think she was stabbed first, to weaken her?"
"Maybe. Does it say anything about the knife that was used?"
Dalia glanced at the autopsy report for a moment, and then shook her head. "No much, just that it was a curved blade. The length of a blade is hard to determine, although…" She read the report again.
"What?"
"There were trace amounts of metal found around the wound."
"Is that normal?"
"No, not really."
"Does it say what kind of metal?"
"Unknown."
I frowned. "What does that mean? Unknown origin or just unknown?"
"Unknown origin."
"Which means the blade used was most likely magical as well, maybe made from Obryx like goblin knives, or…"
"Or what?"
"Dudrasium, like elven blades."
"That’s just speculation, Corvin."
"Maybe, at this point, but I know a way we might be able to find out for sure."
"How?"
"I know a guy," I said. "A friend of me ma’s. He’s a forensic scientist, but he specializes in deaths involving magic amongst other things."
"What, you think he’ll be able to identify the knife?"
"I hope so, and maybe even the fingerprints on the magic that was used."
"Sounds like a long shot."
I stared at her. "When it comes to me ma, no shot is too long."
Dalia nodded. "I know."
Later that day, I got a phone call from Monty. "I did that digging you asked me to do," he said.
I was in the flat, preparing to meet up with Amelia. Earlier, I stupidly told Dalia that I was planning on going out with Amelia and she ended up leaving in something of a huff, though Lord knows why as I’m hardly going on a damn date, and even if I was, what was it to her anyway?
"What did you find out?" I asked Monty as I looked into the mirror and contemplated shaving before shaking my head and deciding against it.
"It seems Iolas has bought up most of that industrial estate. A few more purchases and he’ll own the whole place."
"Why would he do that?"
"I don’t feckin’ know," Monty said. "Maybe he needs the storage space."
"For what?"
"His cuddly toy collection perhaps?"
I chuckled. "I doubt that."
"Well, your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, I have to go now."
"Thanks Monty, I appreciate your help."
"No problem, bro. Keep me informed, won’t you?"
"I will."
A moment later, a horn sounded outside. I went to the window and saw Amelia’s Dodge parked on the street below. "Time to do some digging," I said as I went down to meet her.
Chapter 14
To say that Amelia looked stunning would be an understatement. She had on a black velvety-looking top that revealed a fair amount of skin, below which was a short, pleated skirt the same color as her hair. Knee length boots finished off the outfit, topped by a pair of expensive sunglasses. As I walked into the Library Bar situated in the Central Hotel just off George’s Street, my scruffy self felt completely outclassed by Amelia’s radiant beauty. Even the waiters gave me a look which said, "She’s a bit out of your league mate, isn’t she?" They may have been right, except I wasn’t here to court Amelia, I was here to glean information on Iolas. Although, if I’m being completely honest, I was also here because I couldn’t help but be interested in Amelia, especially since I had already glimpsed something of her inner-self.
The interior and couches of the little bar were elegant, making for a serene environment. "This place seems a little stuffy for you," I said after the waiter took our order. "I thought maybe somewhere like the Liquor Rooms or Lillies Bordello would be more your thing, somewhere your elven beauty would radiate rather than get dampened in a place like this."
Taking her sunglasses off, she put them on the table. "Is that what you think I am, some dolly bird who craves attention?"
I shook my head as I thought about what I’d seen and felt as I gazed her soul. "No, far from it actually."
"Then why say it?"
I shrugged. "I suppose I’m a little intimidated by you."
"By me, or by my looks?"
"Probably both, as I’m sure you are as well by my dazzling good looks and winning personality."
She started to laugh and then the waiter turned up with the drinks, putting two glasses and a bottle of expensive whiskey down on the table before walking away again. "What’s the look for?" she asked. "You thought I’d be drinking wine like every other elf does?"
"Yes, but I like your choice."
"I prefer whiskey over wine."
I lifted the bottle and poured a hefty measure into each glass. "Is that because your elven physiology prevents you from getting drunk easily?"
"Something like that."
"Don’t forget you still have to drive."
"I don’t plan on getting that drunk."
"That’s a pity, because I was."
She smiled like she wasn’t surprised. "I won’t stop you."
I winked at her. "You couldn’t if you tried."
Laughing slightly, she said, "Maybe we’ll put your confidence to the test some time."
I raised my glass and she did the same. "I look forward to it."
Our eyes met then for just a few seconds, the dazzling beauty of her blue orbs making it hard for me to look away even if I’d wanted to. There was no getting away from it, I realized, I was massively into Amelia, though I wasn’t sure if the feeling was reciprocated. She was so difficult to read it was hard to tell what she was thinking. On the flip side, she could probably read me like a book, and for all I knew, was reeling me in for some nefarious purpose as instructed to do so by Iolas.
"So who do you normally come here with?" I asked her as I refilled our glasses.
"Myself usually," she replied. "I like to sit here and read while I drink."
I nodded. "What do you like to read?"
"History books mostly. Lately, a lot of alternative history."
"Interesting. I’m something of a history buff myself, Irish history especially."
"Most history is false, written to various agendas, designed to keep people in the dark." She downed her drink like it was just water. "You have to dig deep to get the real truth of things." Her eyes looked into me as
she said this last part, as though waiting for some reaction.
"I agree."
"Is that what you’re doing with your mother’s death?" she asked. "Digging deep for the truth?"
"Yes," I said after staring at her a moment. "Of course."
"I’m sorry for your loss, by the way. It must be difficult."
"I guess you’d know."
She nodded. "I do."
"What happened to your parents?"
She looked away for a second, and I thought she was going to shut me out again like she did earlier when I asked her the same question. "They died in a plane crash when I was nine."
"I’m sorry. It must’ve been hard." I knew it was; I’d already felt her pain.
"You bury the pain and carry on."
As admirable as that was, something told me it wasn’t her true sentiment. It sounded more like something Iolas would say. "You think it’s that easy?"
"I didn’t say it was easy."
We lapsed into silence for a few moments. While Amelia stared out the window to the street outside, I stared at her, taking in her flawless complexion and exquisite bone structure. Until I met her, I’d never had much to do with elves, especially female ones. Elves tended to run in their own circles, their beauty and sense of superiority making them intimidating to most others, even to the Untouched, who couldn’t know they were looking at an elf. When an Untouched viewed an elf, all they saw was someone who was rich and looked like a supermodel. That was intimidating enough for most.
"So do you like working for your uncle?" I asked her eventually, trying to get the conversation going again, as she seemed to have retreated into herself slightly, something I noticed she did often, as though her inner pain exerted a constant pull on her.
Amelia sighed slightly at the question. "It’s just what I do."
"I find it hard to believe that you don’t have other talents that don’t involve breaking heads for your uncle."
She smiled. "I write a little."
"Really?" I returned her smile, delighted to hear of her interest in penmanship. "What do you write?"
Amelia shook her head. "You’ll only laugh if I tell you."
"Try me."
"I write historical romance novels."
