by Helen Harper
‘They’ll never fall for that.’
I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘They will if you’re convincing enough. They’ve just learned that we almost lost an entire Volume of the Cyphers, Phil. No-one will want to be the only witch not dedicated enough to keep watch all night. It wouldn’t look good on their CVs.’
‘But…’
‘Trust me.’ I smiled. ‘This will work.’
***
I’d barely made it back to the shadows around the HR building when the screeching began. Watching the witches inside, I noted a moment of frozen shock before they all sprinted for the door, hurling themselves at the library. I gave myself a pat on the back then I waited a little bit longer. For once, my patience was rewarded.
Not long after everyone had gone, robes flapping in breeze, a dark figure peeled away from the corner of the building. I’d have recognised that straight-backed march anywhere. Winter strode forward, pausing once to glance towards the library. I held my breath and hoped he’d realise that there were more than enough bodies heading in that direction to deal with whatever might – or might not – be happening, and that he’d stay on course. When he continued towards the front doors of HR, I knew he’d made the right decision. I gave a little jig. He thought he could pull the wool over my eyes but he was wrong. No one outsmarted me unless I wanted them to. Apart from Brutus. And maybe the Ipsissimus. Okay, and several others. Tonight, however, I was in charge.
I counted to twenty, giving Winter time to get to the spot he wanted. Then I followed on my tippy-toes. I wanted to see him jump with shock when I confronted him.
Pushing open the door as quietly as possible, I headed inside the HR building. I was getting to know the layout after the number of times I’d been here in the last few days. I veered round Rebecca the receptionist’s desk and into the large office space. Now that it was almost entirely empty, there was a rather tragic air about it.
A small light wavered above Winter’s head from the far corner. Records. Aha. Treading lightly, I went towards him. He was busy opening drawers so I was able to get right up behind him. When I was less than a foot away, I stopped and grinned. I was hoping for a small scream when I announced my presence.
‘Don’t just stand there, Ivy,’ Winter snapped. ‘Come and help me search.’
I jerked several inches upwards. The plonker. The absolute plonker. ‘You knew I was here? All along?’
‘Of course.’ He still didn’t turn around, intent as he was on pulling out files, examining the names and dropping them again. ‘Who else would be impatient enough to set a fire in the library because they didn’t want to wait for everyone to finish work?’
I bristled slightly. ‘I didn’t set the fire. Maidmont did.’
Winter finally glanced at me. ‘You drew that poor librarian into your scheming?’
I drew myself up. ‘Scheming? Scheming? You’re the one who’s been scheming, mister!’
He looked exasperated. ‘I didn’t want you here, that’s true,’ he admitted. ‘But when I saw you loitering around outside, I knew you’d end up with me so the entire venture to exclude you was pointless.’
I tried to banish the small knot of hurt in my chest and put my hands on my hips. ‘You found a way round the binding.’
‘Don’t get excited,’ he growled. ‘It’s only temporary.’
‘Why?’
‘So I could come here and investigate without any nasty side-effects.’
‘Is that what I am?’ I spat. ‘A nasty side-effect?’
His sapphire-blue eyes blinked in surprise. ‘I was referring to the binding’s side-effects, not you.’ Winter sighed. ‘I don’t believe that Oscar Marsh is the witch we’re looking for, despite the evidence to the contrary. If I’m right, the real culprit is not only clever but also very dangerous. You let a First Level witch beat you with a spell that wouldn’t have fooled a Neophyte earlier today. I didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, so it seemed prudent to make use of the temporary block on the binding.’ His expression grew rueful. ‘I should have known better than to think you’d be fooled. I suppose I hoped that you’d take advantage of the opportunity to loll around at home in peace and quiet.’
‘I threw that damn fight,’ I snapped. ‘That would have been obvious if you knew anything about me. I didn’t want to spend the next hundred days fighting off challengers.’
‘How was I supposed to know that? Why didn’t you tell me that you lost deliberately?’
I looked down. ‘I didn’t want you to think badly of me. I mean, I know you think I’m a lazy arse.’ I paused. ‘I am a lazy arse but I didn’t want you to think I was like that. Even if I am.’
Winter’s gaze softened. ‘You’re not as lazy as you think you are. You’re here, after all.’
‘You’re not as stuck-up and strait-laced as I thought you were,’ I said grudgingly.
‘I’m stuck-up and strait-laced enough not to set the library on fire just to gain a few extra hours.’
‘Oh, shut up. Maidmont has things under control.’ I grinned. ‘Besides, it’s just as well I’m here. You’re looking in the wrong place. Tarquin’s already been through these files with a fine tooth-comb.’
Winter’s eyebrows shot up. ‘And you believe him?’ he asked.
‘In this, I do. He wants to give off the appearance of being a good little boy witch. If Marsh’s file was discovered later down the back of one of these cabinets, Tarquin would feel the heat. He won’t want any more fingers pointing in his direction. He’s on shaky ground as it is, given what he did to Eve.’
Winter cocked his head. ‘What did he do to Eve?’
I’d forgotten that he didn’t know that little titbit. ‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘It’s not relevant to this.’
He let it go. ‘If Marsh’s file isn’t here and it’s not at Diall’s house, I have no idea where it could be. It may contain vital information. If we can work out why Marsh was used as the patsy for the theft and the murder, we have a good chance of finding the real bastard who did all this.’
‘It’s obvious why Marsh was fingered,’ I argued. ‘He’s in no position to fight back. He’s clearly not doing very well for himself and there aren’t many people who’ll vouch for him, given his many indiscretions. Whoever took Volume 9 has returned it because either they can’t access the magic or they’ve got what they wanted from it.’
‘That’s as may be,’ Winter responded. ‘But it doesn’t help us get any closer to the truth. It can’t be a coincidence that Marsh’s file has gone missing. Whoever has it is our prime suspect but that doesn’t necessarily help us right now.’
I met his eyes and I had a sudden epiphany: Winter had all the answers. He just wanted me to come to the same conclusion. I didn’t have the evidence that he was so fond of but maybe he realised that evidence wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Not when Oscar Marsh was currently languishing on the basis of theoretically concrete evidence.
‘We’re in HR for a reason,’ I said softly. ‘While we can reasonably believe that it was Diall who used his magic to steal the sceptre and then the Cypher Manuscript, because he would have enough magic ability for both, he’s not the worst witch in this scenario. Someone murdered him and took the Manuscript for themselves. We know that Diall often helped to elevate witches to high positions for which they were not always suited. Maybe one of those particular witches took against him. Perhaps Diall was laying on too much pressure to do his bidding.’ I shrugged. ‘Perhaps they just didn’t like him.’
Winter drew out a neatly folded piece of paper from his pocket. ‘It took some time,’ he said, ‘but here are the names of everyone who was promoted with Diall’s vote. There are twenty-three names.’
I whistled. ‘That’s quite a lot. Not an insurmountable number to investigate but it will still take time.’
‘Indeed. And if the Manuscript has turned up because our culprit has already absorbed all the magic, then we need to hurry before they make their move.’
&nbs
p; ‘This is too easy.’
Amusement flashed across Winter’s features. ‘Is it?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘I told you from the start: Adeptus Price is the bastard we’re looking for.’
‘Actually, your first suggestion was the Ipsissimus. And your reasoning for Price was that he wore slip-on shoes.’
‘I didn’t directly accuse the Ipsissimus,’ I pointed out. ‘Not really. And I had other reasons for naming Price. It’s clearer now. Whoever murdered Diall knew where he lived and what wards he had in place at his home. As Head of HR, Price would have had access to that information. He’s clearly not very good at his job either. His staff despise him. So chances are, he’s one of those witches on your list.’
Winter neither denied nor acknowledged my theory. I ploughed on. ‘Tarquin gave him an alibi when we visited by saying that he’d been with Practicus Lee. But Tarquin probably just saw it on his calendar. He wouldn’t have been at the meeting with them. Price could have cancelled it without anyone knowing. And with his knowledge of the witches in the Order, Price would also have been aware of Marsh’s shortcomings. He was probably on the disciplinary board after Marsh’s other misdemeanours. Price knew that Oscar Marsh would make the perfect scapegoat.’
‘There’s no proof,’ Winter said. ‘If Price took Volume 9, he doesn’t have it now. We do. And if he killed Diall, there won’t necessarily be a trail of blood proving it.’
I held up my hand. ‘But,’ I said softly, ‘if he has Oscar Marsh’s personnel file we’re halfway there. We just need to find it.’ I waited for a beat. ‘Or hang around and wait until Price uses his new magic skills to take over the world and become our ruler.’
Winter smiled. ‘Let’s not do that, then.’
‘Good idea.’ I straightened. ‘And you don’t need to shut me out or try and protect me, Rafe. I can look after myself. I reckon I’m more of a help to you than a hindrance.’
His smile dropped and he regarded me seriously. ‘You’re right – on both counts.’ He leant towards me until I could feel his breath on my skin. ‘Price’s name is on the list. And I didn’t take him seriously as a suspect until you mentioned him the first time around.’
I grinned smugly into his blue eyes. ‘See?’ I said. ‘Slip-on shoes.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
We abandoned the fruitless search of the filing cabinets and headed for Price’s office. While it was unlikely that there would be anything there, given its public nature and how often Price was out of the office, it seemed prudent to run a close eye over everything he had squirrelled away.
Although I’d been in here once before, my focus on that occasion was Tarquin and the poor woman he was currently stringing along. This time I paid more attention to my surroundings. There wasn’t a whole lot to look at: Price wasn’t exactly a clutterbug. His desk had an empty tray, a single sharp-nibbed pencil and a notepad lying on the top. There wasn’t even a photo of any loved ones. Every drawer was locked.
I picked up the notepad and grinned. ‘I’ve always wanted to do this.’ I grabbed the pencil and shaded over the first white page. ‘Wait for it,’ I said. ‘Wait for it…’ I peered at the faint letters that had revealed themselves. ‘Ah ha!’
Winter leant across me to take a look, affording me another whiff of the culver’s root he had secreted about his person. ‘You know, you can lose the magic herbs now.’
‘I’ll keep them for a while. I like knowing you’re here of your own volition,’ he said in my ear.
A small thrill went through me. What was wrong with me these days? The Order was clearly rubbing off in ways that were most uncharacteristic. I quickly pointed at the paper. ‘He’s written a note to himself. Look.’
Winter looked more closely. ‘Milk. Bread. Washing-up liquid. Hardly the magic bullet we’re looking for.’
‘Yeah, but it worked! Without using any magic at all, I can now read exactly what’s going on in his life. It’s like I’m Nancy Drew.’
‘Go you,’ he murmured. He moved away and crouched down by the desk. ‘Warded. If can I get the right herbs to open this…’
I sketched out my old reliable spell for him and all three drawers popped open. ‘There you go.’ I curtsied. ‘You’re welcome.’
Winter turned and stared at me. ‘You just opened that.’
Well, duh. ‘Yeah.’
‘But it’s warded.’
Puzzled, I put my hands on my hips. ‘Not very strongly.’
‘Show me that rune.’
His tone brooked no argument. I shrugged; it was no skin off my nose. I re-sketched the rune, this time aiming for the final locked drawer on the other side of the desk. It burst open, banging into Winter’s leg. He didn’t move, however; he just watched my hands. ‘That’s not a known rune.’
‘You know all the runes?’
‘I have an almost eidetic memory, Ivy. I’ve trained myself to remember. That is not a rune I’ve ever seen before.’
This line of questioning was becoming uncomfortable. ‘So? I developed it on my own.’
He took a step towards me. ‘‘Do you have any idea how unusual that is?’
I sighed. ‘Only because the Order sticks to tradition and traditional runes.’
‘No. They stick to traditional runes because it’s incredibly difficult to create new ones. There’s an entire research and development department dedicated to the art and even they only manage a new rune once every few months.’ Something indefinable glinted in his eyes. ‘I think I’m beginning to understand you properly now.’
I didn’t have the faintest idea what he was talking about. ‘I’m not a thief,’ I began. ‘I don’t go around breaking and entering. It’s just a rune I developed to help me in case I lose my house keys.’
He held up his hands. ‘Don’t get all defensive.’
‘Don’t get all enigmatic. What do you mean, you understand me now?’
‘You could have fought harder against your expulsion. Yes, your boyfriend has friends in high places but if you’d shouted louder, people would have listened. You didn’t though. You wanted to be expelled.’
My mouth dropped open. ‘What? At the time I bloody didn’t.’
He was watching me like a hawk. ‘Maybe not consciously.’ He dropped his voice. ‘You were bored.’
I was beginning to get irritated. ‘So? Being a Neophyte isn’t exactly exciting. I’m sure you remember that with your specially trained memory.’
‘I loved every minute.’ He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of me. ‘It’s lazy-genius syndrome.’
‘Huh?’
‘You’re unpredictable. Life doesn’t stimulate you enough so you all but give up on it. The Order moves too slowly for someone of your abilities so it was probably a relief when they kicked you out. It’s more common than you realise; lots of clever people end up checking out. It’s a defined psychological syndrome.’
‘Yeah,’ I said sarcastically. ‘I’m a genius. That’s why I drive a taxi for a living.’
He came closer. ‘You have a high need for cognitive stimulation. Others won’t provide it for you. Most jobs won’t either. So you fall back on the one person you can trust – yourself.’ He smiled. ‘But you’re enjoying this job. You’re stimulated now.’
I tilted my face up to his. ‘Well,’ I drawled, ‘you are standing very close.’
‘Joke all you like. I’m speaking the truth and you know it.’ He moved back.
‘If I were a genius,’ I declared too loudly, ‘I’d already have the smoking gun to put Adeptus Price away for life.’
‘Well then, we should get on and find it.’ Winter turned away and started rummaging through the top drawer.
I watched him for a moment, unwilling to acknowledge that he might be right with his daft theory, then I shrugged. Winter could analyse me all he wanted; it was a free country. I didn’t have to pay him any attention when he did it.
I left him to rifle through Price’s desk and turned to the filing cabinet. Perversel
y, it wasn’t locked. Of course: it was vital to lock your desk and keep sticky fingers away from your pens and pencils but when it came to confidential files, anyone could nab them. I rolled my eyes. Price might be a murderer and thief but he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box.
I ran my finger along the files and whistled when I spotted one labelled ‘Cypher’. Ah ha. I slid it out and flipped it open, just as Winter stepped back onto my toe. I yelped and dropped the file. ‘Jeez!’
‘Sorry.’
‘I should think so,’ I grumbled. ‘Everyone knows muscle weighs more than fat and you weigh a ton.’
He smiled at my backhanded compliment. I knelt down to scoop up the file, angling my face upwards at Winter’s body as I did so. Perhaps there was something to working out at the gym. Not for me, naturally. But for him. Definitely for him.
I grabbed a sheet of paper that had scooted under the desk, stretching my fingers to reach it. As I did so, my attention was caught by something. ‘Winter,’ I said slowly.
‘I prefer it when you call me Rafe,’ he murmured.
‘Stop nattering,’ I tutted. ‘Come and look at this.’ I pointed to the underside of the desk. He hunkered down beside me and followed my finger, exhaling loudly when he saw the file taped there. ‘Do you think…’ I began.
‘Let’s not rush to any conclusions.’ He reached into his pocket and drew out a long set of tweezers. I shifted away to give him the room he needed and watched agog as he carefully prised the file away from the tape. He pulled it out with the delicate touch of a surgeon, stood up and placed it flat on the desk. I joined him.
It was Oscar Marsh’s file. His name was scrawled across the front in a sweeping cursive script and, just in case there was any confusion, the tab at the side proclaimed the same name. I held my breath as Winter used the tweezers to flip it open.
All of Marsh’s details were there: his address, his age, his position, his medical files. There were notes attached detailing his problems; apparently the Order hadn’t abandoned him to his alcoholism as I’d suspected. In fact, he’d been instructed to attend several counselling sessions but hadn’t turned up to a single one. I felt a wave of unexpected sympathy for him.
