That’s what I thought.
The doctor flipped off the light and headed out the door. “If the queen was murdered, why would we be called in, of all the companies in Valeriel? I would think they would want CrimeSolve, or at least one of the other big companies.”
Kadin, not wanting to be left alone in the dark, followed the men into the hall.
“Why shouldn’t we be the ones called in?” Dahran’s lope seemed less hurried than Combs’s frantic tempo, but the detective kept up with the doctor. “We may be smaller, but we have an excellent quality record. It’s not hard to believe that the king would take notice of that.”
Combs barked out a laugh. “Yes, I’m sure the first thing that the king thought when he heard that his wife was murdered was that he should use this as an opportunity to promote small business.”
“Don’t be so negative, Combs.” Dahran seemed awfully cheerful, considering he was talking about a murder investigation. But Kadin supposed the queen’s murder had the potential to be a career-making case. “We should take the opportunity and be grateful for it. Don’t you think so?” On the last question, he turned to look at Kadin, who traipsed behind them, cursing her shoes in her head.
“Oh…” She beamed at him as she struggled to think of the best thing to say. “I’m sure that if you are on the case, it will be solved in no time.”
Kadin’s stomach knotted as soon as the words were out of her mouth. He was bound to see right through that attempt at flattery. But he flashed his teeth at her without a hint of irony.
Combs glanced back at her as they crossed through the waiting room. “I can see that Fellows has continued his tradition of hiring from the brightest end of the secretarial pool.”
Kadin flushed, but she couldn’t fault him for thinking she sounded like an idiot when she had thought the same thing.
“Oh, are you Fellows’s new aide?” Dahran eyed her with more interest. “Excellent. He’ll probably want you to come to the palace with us.”
Kadin felt a rush of excitement. “I’ve always wanted to see the palace.”
“Deity’s sake!” Combs’s exclamation made both Kadin and Dahran jump. “We are going to investigate a murder, not take a tour of the Imperial estates. A woman is dead. Show some respect.” He muttered something about having to get his instruments, then hurried off ahead of them.
“Don’t mind Combs.” Dahran held back for a minute to walk alongside Kadin. “He gets like that sometimes. He’s one of those liberal types who think that we should perform investigations for free. I don’t know who he thinks would pay our salaries. Anyway, ignore him if he starts going on about how we should all be ashamed of making money off of other people’s misfortune. He’s a doctor, for Deity’s sake. If he wanted to, he could go work for the city, but you don’t see him doing that.”
“Mmm.” Kadin nodded, but she was paying more attention to her throbbing toe than to Dahran’s words. She gave a silent prayer of thanks that Dahran was matching her slow pace.
Kadin and Dahran strode into the lobby, and Detective Fellows, a stout older man with browline glasses and a bowler hat, nodded at Dahran, then looked Kadin up and down, nodding to himself in appreciation of her figure.
“So what do we know about the case so far, Fellows?” Dahran asked, with a distinct lack of deference.
Fellows frowned, presumably at his junior’s tone, until someone entering the building bumped against his back, nearly knocking the bowler hat off his head. “All we know so far is that the queen is dead and foul play is suspected. The king specifically requested that our team investigate.”
“And we don’t think that’s odd?” Combs joined the group, a black medical bag in his hand.
The detectives scoffed at Combs. “Of course not.” Fellows clapped the doctor on the back. “We may be small, but we’re the best the city has to offer.”
As the group piled into company autocars and drove to the Imperial District, Kadin had to wonder whether Combs had a point. The king had a whole host of palace guards at his disposal, as well as the wealth to hire any investigation agency in the city. Why would he choose Valeriel Investigations, which had only solved a case that made it onto the front page of the Valeriel Tribune once since the company’s founding?
As the painted gates of the Imperial Palace opened to let the autocars through, Kadin couldn’t help but gawk at the estate. Trinithy and Olivan had once dragged her on an autobus tour that stopped at the gates of all the major Imperial estates, but she had never come this close to the royal palace. Even late in the autumn as it was, the lawns were impeccable, covered with a lusher green grass than most lawns in the city saw at the height of summer. Judging by the color and bareness of the trees, bright orange leaves should have littered the ground, but Kadin couldn’t spot one. The palace garden staff was clearly more effective than the queen’s guards were.
As they continued up the drive, they passed clusters of shaped ornamental hedges lining artificial ponds placed to provide pleasing views from the winding paths. Kadin gasped when the palace came into view. She had seen pictures, but none of them did justice to the sprawling white mansion lined with gold-crested columns and juniper trees. Even the government buildings in downtown Valeriel, which took up whole city blocks, were not so large. Kadin marveled that such a huge façade housed only two people—or one, since Queen Callista was dead.
Captain Azram Carver, the leader of the private defense force paid to protect the royal family and the palace, greeted the team at the white and gold double doors that stretched up three or four times Kadin’s height. He and two of his guards escorted the detectives inside.
Have to love the fuzzy hats. Kadin stifled a smile as she looked at the formal white and gold uniforms that matched the foyer. White and gold are the royal colors. And “foyer” is not the right word for this room.
The ceiling of the palace entryway arched far above their heads, and carvings of the royal crest of Valeriel—a lion passant surrounded by a ring of stars—covered the walls. Captain Carver led the team down a hallway lined with gold-plated doors interspersed with lion statues on white pedestals. Between staying upright in her increasingly impractical shoes and trying not to stare at every golden painting and fresco that she passed, Kadin had a hard time keeping up with the party.
At the end of the hallway stood a sweeping staircase.
Captain Carver turned back to the detectives. “This way. The queen’s chambers are on the second floor.”
Kadin gave a mental apology to the sculptor of the staircase’s decorative railing. But if he hadn’t wanted passing climbers to clutch his work, he should have consulted with the designer who picked the carpet and the women who planned to walk on it. Two-inch-thick plush did not go with stiletto heels.
“These are the queen’s chambers.” Captain Carver opened a door on the second floor that led into a sitting room featuring a wide gondola sofa with white cushions and a gold base, two matching chairs, and a round painted end table in between. The carpeting matched that on the stairs, and Kadin trod as carefully as possible, not wanting to fall over now that she had no bannister.
As they passed into a luxurious bedchamber with more modern furniture in the royal colors, the mixed aromas of several expensive perfumes struck Kadin’s nose. She might have found the effect of each individual scent pleasant, but the combination nearly made her choke.
The entire party came to a halt when they turned the corner to the queen’s boudoir and encountered the reason for their presence. Kadin had never seen a dead body before, but she couldn’t imagine mistaking the form lying there for anything else.
The blond figure lay crumpled in front of the bureau wearing an ivory and gold lace nightdress, spread out on top of a silky white fabric that looked to be a ball gown. She had Queen Callista’s unequaled face and form, but her head lolled in a
position that would wake any sleeper, and her blue eyes were open and staring.
If Fellows had asked her in her interview how she would react to such a gruesome site, she would have told him she expected a mix of fear, sadness, and disgust, but not enough to incapacitate her. As she faced the first of what she presumed would be many such corpses, she experienced a cold burning in her chest she could only describe as a desire to see whoever had done this brought to justice.
Captain Carver stepped between the investigation team and the door to the dressing room, as if trying to protect her from their stares. “The queen was found in this room at approximately midnight last night by her assigned personal guard.”
“The guard’s name?” Fellows pulled a notepad out of his pocket and licked his finger before opening to a blank page.”
Carver cleared his throat. “Corporal Herrick Strand.”
“Where had Corporal Strand been before that?” Fellows asked. Kadin watched Dahran and Fellows scrawl down the captain’s words and, realizing she should do the same, retrieved her pad from her purse.
“He had left her alone for what he claims was no more than five minutes.” The captain pulled at his collar, revealing the beads of sweat dripping down his neck. “When he returned, she was as you now see her. He immediately sought me out and didn’t move anything in the room. He claims that he saw no one on the premises between the time he left her and the time he returned.”
That doesn’t sound likely, Kadin thought.
Fellows coughed into the hand holding the pencil. “You don’t find this suspicious?”
Captain Carver stood up straighter. “I do not, for several reasons. First of all, under normal circumstances, Corporal Strand is not an internal palace guard and certainly not Queen Callista’s regular guard. Though he formerly worked inside the palace, he received a promotion several months ago that transferred him to external guard duty. He was only with the queen tonight because her regular guard did not report as scheduled, and the duty sergeant determined that Corporal Strand could most easily fill in. Unfortunately, I was not there to approve the assignment, or I would have insisted on someone with more experience.”
Why did the sergeant choose Strand? Kadin wrote on her pad and underlined it twice.
The captain’s fingers curled and uncurled. “Due to his lack of experience, Corporal Strand was unaware that his only duty was to accompany his charge everywhere. Her Majesty wanted him to run an errand for her and was quite adamant that he do so. He claims that he didn’t think anything would happen, and under most circumstances he would have been correct.. You may question him further about this if you wish.”
“We intend to.” Fellows flipped his notepad closed with a snap. “However, first I would like to speak with His Majesty, King Ralvin.”
Carver sniffed. “You can’t demand an audience with the king. He decides whom he will speak to, not the other way around.”
“I think he’ll see us. Because otherwise we will be forced to rely on journalists and less discreet nobles for our information, and I’m sure he’d rather we hear his business without the embellishments of third-hand accounts.” Fellows didn’t wait for Carver to reply. “Combs, while we’re doing that, get a full analysis of the body. White, you question any staff who worked in this area last night. See if they saw anything peculiar.”
One guard remained in the queen’s bedchamber with Dr. Combs, while another directed Dahran toward a side room from which he could interview the members of the staff who, according to Captain Carver, had been on duty that night.
Check list of duty staff for completeness, Kadin wrote.
Fellows and Kadin followed Captain Carver back down the plush staircase, which somehow seemed even less supportive on the way down than on the way up. They crossed the main hall again, and Carver opened two massive doors that led into a hallway wider than Octavira’s kitchen.
Portraits of Valerian nobles lined the walls. The images appeared modern, as if the hall’s purpose was to give the Imperials something else to brag over. Oh, yes, my picture is on the wall of the palace, you know.
Captain Carver asked Kadin and Fellows to wait outside while he checked that the king was prepared to meet with them.
Fellows glanced at Kadin and jerked his head back a bit. He looked her up and down, as if he had forgotten her in the hour since he had done so back at the office. “What was your name again?”
Kadin did her best to look earnest. “Kadin Stone, sir. And may I say it is an hon—“
Fellows waved a hand. “Yes, yes. Mind you keep to your own business in there. Don’t want you saying anything foolish in front of the king.”
Kadin gave a brief nod, though Fellows was no longer looking at her to see it. No sense getting offended by that. After all, I don’t know anything about questioning someone. Even if he could have been nicer about it.
Kadin turned her attention to the pictures closest to the door. The largest one, set in the middle of the hallway, caught her eye first. The painting featured King Ralvin and Queen Callista as they appeared on the day of their coronation. Both wore full gold and white regalia with matching greasepaint caked on their faces. They looked cold and austere, more like statues than living, breathing people. The king was of average height and slight built. His hair was covered by a thin golden helm, and his aristocratic attire covered every inch of him from the cravat at his neck to the white leather boots that encased his feet and lower calves. Queen Callista wore similar garb, except that her golden curls framed her face, and not even the white face paint could hide her beauty.
Kadin let her eyes wander from the portrait of the cold monarchs to a small photograph positioned next to it. The click showed two dark-haired teenage boys who looked alike enough to be brothers. The larger one laughed with abandon, unintimidated by the presence of the camera. The smaller one also seemed amused, by the other boy’s behavior if nothing else, but he bore a subdued expression, as if he knew these walls would memorialize his image and he might appear foolish.
The casual nearness of the boys’ hands and the way they each seemed to watch the other out of the corners of their eyes suggested to Kadin that they were the best of friends. She glanced down at the caption, which identified the image date at twelve years ago and the smaller boy as Prince Ralvin and the laughing one as Lord Baurus.
After staring at the teenaged Imperials for long enough to capture every nuance, Kadin turned around to observe the images on the other wall. Opposite the portrait of the king and queen, in a similar, nearly-as-large frame, hung a painting of Duke Baurus. The two pictures of King Ralvin looked so unalike each other that, without the labels, Kadin might never have known they depicted the same man. The oil work she now beheld clearly depicted an older version of the boy in the click, though in this image he glared out of the canvas as if the artist had enraged him beyond reason.
Trinithy had often giggled about how handsome she thought Duke Baurus was, but Kadin had always thought the real attraction was to his title and net worth. He wasn’t unattractive, with slicked-back brown hair parted at the side and intense hazel eyes, but he had nothing on someone like Jace Combs. In person, Duke Baurus would have been at least several inches taller than she, even in her heels, and twice as wide, with the kind of musculature one would expect from someone who had performed heavy labor his whole life.
Kadin marveled at the skill of the artist, capturing the duke’s raw emotion, but she also suspected the subject’s excitement had been far greater than what appeared on the canvas. She stood transfixed, reaching her hand out to touch the painting, wanting to get closer to the pure passion, but before her fingers brushed his black-clad arm, she remembered where she was and stopped herself.
As Kadin broke free of the painting’s mesmerizing hold, the door at the end of the hallway opened, and Captain Carver, appearing disgruntled t
hat the king had consented to see them, indicated they should enter. “The king will see you now. Please understand that he is distraught over the loss of his wife and grant him the infinite respect due his station.”
Kadin followed Fellows into what she would have known was the throne room, even if she had not seen her statuesque monarch sitting on a golden chair at the other side of the room. Or if she hadn’t seen a hundred clicks of the chamber before.
Oh, my Deity, she thought. I’m standing in the Imperial throne room.
Wooden benches sat alongside the walls of an open space so large it required ivory columns, placed at intervals, to hold up the ceiling. Light reflected off the solid gold walls and ceiling a hundred times, making the room glow. Kadin tried to get a glimpse of the images engraved in the gold—every school child in Valeriel knew the throne room walls illustrated key events in the kingdom’s history. She craned her neck, searching for her favorite—the founding of the Assembly—but when she couldn’t find it within a few seconds, she gave up, not wanting to gawk at the grandeur in front of the king. She listened to her heels clack against the hard marble and breathed a sigh of relief that it provided a balanced surface to walk on. She didn’t think she could live down falling flat on her face in front of the king.
When she reached the throne, Kadin managed something resembling a curtsey in echo of Fellows’s and the captain’s. Tight skirts did not make the action easy. Her grandmother had ingrained in her long ago that polite girls did not look on Imperials’ faces, so she studied the king as circumspectly as she could. She may as well have continued to look at the portrait outside, though, because the king appeared the same as he had in the official painting—dressed head to toe in formal white and gold, with white greasepaint covering his face, pristine calfskin gloves, and a shiny, sunburst-patterned cape draped over the seat’s right arm.
Catching a Man Page 5
