"Right," said Hawk. "So, if Blackstone saw whoever it was, and didn't cry out, that can only mean he knew his attacker, and didn't consider him a threat until it was too late."
"Nasty," said Fisher.
"Very," said Hawk. "I'd better make sure Gaunt's set up the isolation spell. I don't want any of our guests disappearing before I have a chance to question them. You stay with the body. No one is to touch anything, right?"
"Right."
Hawk straightened up and stretched slowly. "You know, Isobel, this is going to be a complicated case. I can feel it in my bones."
He left Blackstone's room and went out onto the landing, pulling the door shut behind him. The guests were crowded together on the landing, waiting for him. Lord Hightower stepped forward to block Hawk's way.
"You. Guard! What's going on?"
"My Lord;"
"Why have you smashed down William's door?" demanded Bowman. "Gaunt took Katherine away in tears, but he wouldn't tell us anything. Just said we weren't to go in the room. What's happened?"
"William Blackstone has been murdered," said Hawk tightly.
The guests stared silently back at him, all of them apparently shocked and stunned.
"I have instructed the sorcerer Gaunt to seal off the house," said Hawk. "Have any of you seen or heard anything suspicious? Anything at all?" There was a general shaking of heads, which was pretty much what Hawk had expected. He sighed quietly. "I have to talk to the sorcerer. My partner is guarding the body. I must ask you all not to enter Councilor Blackstone's room for any reason, until the investigation into his death is over. I suggest you all go downstairs and wait in the parlor, and I'll fill you in on the details of what's happened as soon as I can."
He turned quickly away before they could start asking questions, and hurried down the stairs to find Gaunt.
Fisher moved slowly around Blackstone's room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. She'd tried all the obvious things, like looking in the wardrobe and under the bed, but so far the only clue to be found was the wineglass. Fisher scowled. The trouble with searching for clues was that half the time you didn't know what you were looking for until you found it. And even then, you couldn't be sure. She stood still in the middle of the room and looked about her. The color scheme was a little garish for her taste, but there was no denying that all the furniture and fittings were of the best possible quality. Nothing seemed to have been moved, or in any way disturbed. Everything was as it should be. Fisher glanced down at Blackstone's body, and scowled thoughtfully. The killer had to be one of the guests, but they were all supposed to be friends of the dead man. One of them must have a motive. Find the motive, and you find the killer; Fisher sat down on the edge of the bed and methodically worked her way through the list of suspects again.
Katherine Blackstone had looked to be very fond of Edward Bowman. Perhaps she'd grown tired of being married to a man ten years older than herself, and had decided to get rid of him so that she could take up with a younger man.
Lord Hightower claimed to have joined with Blackstone because of the way he'd been treated by the city Council, but that could have been just a cover, a way of getting close to Blackstone. And Lord Roderik was a military man; he'd know how to kill quickly and silently. But then again, why should he want to? Blackstone just wasn't that important, outside of Haven.
And then there was the death wound itself. It must have taken quite a bit of strength to ram the knife all the way home. A great deal of strength; or desperation.
Fisher shook her head. There was no point in making guesses at this stage. She didn't have enough evidence to go on yet. The door creaked loudly as it swung suddenly open, and Fisher leapt to her feet, sword in hand, as Lord Hightower entered the room.
"That's far enough, my Lord."
Hightower glared at her coldly. "Watch your manners, girl. I'm here to take a look at the body."
"I'm afraid I can't allow that, my Lord."
"You'll do as you're damn well told. I still have my rank as General;"
"And that doesn't count a damn with me," said Fisher politely. "As the only Guards present, Hawk and I have taken charge of the investigation. And at the scene of the crime, we are answerable only to our superior officers. That's city law, Lord Hightower. Now I'm afraid I must insist that you leave. I can't risk you accidentally destroying any evidence."
Hightower started forward, and then stopped dead as Fisher raised her sword. He took in her calm, professional stance, and the old scars that scored her muscular forearm. The sword point didn't waver, and neither did her narrowed eyes. Hightower stared at her coldly, and stepped back a pace.
"You'll regret this, Guard," he said softly. "I'll see to that!"
He turned and left, slamming the door shut behind him. Fisher lowered her sword. Some days you just shouldn't get out of bed.
Downstairs, Hawk stood in the middle of the hall and looked around him, but there was no sign of Gaunt. Katherine Blackstone was sitting alone in the parlor. She had a glass of wine in her hand, but she wasn't drinking it. She just sat in a chair by the empty fireplace, staring at nothing. A door opened behind Hawk and he spun round, axe in hand, to see Gaunt stepping into the hall from the room opposite the parlor.
"Where the hell have you been?" said Hawk quietly, not wanting to disturb Katherine.
"Just checking my defenses," said Gaunt. "I can assure you that apart from those I invited, no one has got in or out of this house, before or since the murder. I'm now ready to set up the isolation spell. Are you sure you want to do this, Captain? Once the spell is established, this house and everyone in it will be sealed off from the outside world until dawn. That's a good seven hours."
"Do it," said Hawk. "I know; these are important people, and they're not going to like being held here against their will, but I can't risk letting the killer escape. In the meantime, I really don't think we should leave Katherine on her own. I thought I told you to find someone to sit with her?"
"There wasn't time," said Gaunt. "I thought it was more important to check my defenses, in case the assassin was still here. Believe me, Katherine will be perfectly all right on her own for a few minutes. I've given her a specific of my own devising; it should help to stave off the shock."
Hawk frowned. "It won't knock her out, will it? I'm going to have to ask her some questions in a while."
"No, it's only a mild sedative. Now, if you've finished with me for the moment, I think I'd better set up the isolation spell." The sorcerer's mouth twisted angrily. "I still can't really believe that one of my guests murdered William; but I suppose I must."
Gaunt strode down the hall to stand before the closed front door. He stood motionless for a long moment, and then said a single word aloud. The sound of it echoed loudly on the air, and Hawk clutched tightly at the shaft of his axe as Gaunt's hands began to glow with an eerie blue light. The atmosphere in the hall grew tense and brittle, and Hawk could feel a pressure building on the air. Gaunt threw up his arms in the stance of summoning, and his hands glowed so brightly it hurt to look at them. His mouth moved soundlessly, his eyes squeezed shut as he concentrated. Hawk winced as a shuddering vibration ran suddenly through his bones, chattering his teeth. And then the sorcerer spoke a single Word of Power, and a deafening roar tilled the whole house. Hawk staggered as the floor shook beneath his feet and then grew still. The sound was suddenly gone. Hawk got his balance back and looked around him. Everything seemed to be normal again. The sorcerer walked back to join him. Hawk glanced quickly at Gaunt's hands, but they were no longer glowing.
"The spell is set," said Gaunt. "It cannot be broken. So if there is a murderer in my house, we're trapped in here with him until first light. I do hope you know what you're doing. Captain Hawk."
"There is a murderer," said Hawk calmly, "and I'll get him. Now let's go back upstairs. I want you to take another look at Blackstone's body."
Gaunt nodded briefly, and Hawk sheathed his axe and led the way back down the hall
to the stairs. The guests had all assembled in the parlor, but Hawk didn't stop to talk to them. They could wait a while. He and Gaunt made their way up the stairs and onto the landing. Gaunt stopped before the door to Blackstone's room and looked hard at Hawk. He took in the scarred wood and shattered lock, and shrugged. Gaunt sighed audibly, and looked away. Hawk pushed open the door and walked in, followed by Gaunt.
Fisher looked up sharply, and then put away her sword as she saw who it was. Hawk raised an eyebrow.
"Any problems while I was gone?"
"Not really," said Fisher, "I had to throw Lord Hightower out. He wanted to examine the body."
"You threw him out?" said Gaunt.
"Of course," said Hawk. "We're in charge at the scene of a crime. Always. That's Haven law. On such occasions, anyone refusing to obey a Guard's lawful orders, or failing to answer his questions, is liable to a heavy fine or a stay in prison."
"That sounded suspiciously like a threat," said Gaunt.
"Just trying to clarify the situation, sir sorcerer," said Hawk.
Gaunt nodded stiffly. "Of course. I'm sorry, I'm a little over-sensitive at the moment; I'm rather upset. I suppose we all are. William's death is a great loss to us all."
"Not to everyone, it isn't," said Fisher. "Somebody must have stood to gain by it. All we have to do is work out why, and then we should have our murderer. That's the theory, anyway."
"I see," said Gaunt.
Hawk frowned slightly. He'd been watching the sorcerer closely, and Gaunt's perpetual calmness was beginning to get on his nerves. The sorcerer might claim to be upset over his friend's death, but if he was, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it. In fact, if William had been the close friend that Gaunt claimed him to be, the sorcerer was being suspiciously cool and collected. Then again, sorcerers weren't exactly famous for behaving normally. If they were normal, they wouldn't have become sorcerers in the first place.
"Well," said Gaunt. "I'm here. What do you want of me. Captain Hawk?"
"I'm not really sure," said Hawk. "I don't know that much about sorcery. Is there anything your magic can do to help us detect or recreate the events leading up to William's murder?"
Gaunt frowned slightly. "I'm afraid not. My magic isn't really suited to such work. You see, all sorcerers specialize in their own particular area of interest. Some deal with transformational magic, others with weather control, constructs and homunculi, spirits of the air and of the deep; We all start out with the same basic grounding in the four elements, but after that; the High Magic takes many forms."
"What is your specialization?" asked Fisher patiently.
"Alchemy," said Gaunt. "Medicines, and the like."
"And poisons?" said Hawk.
"On occasion." Gaunt looked at Hawk sharply. "Did you have any reason for such a question?"
"Possibly." Hawk indicated the wineglass lying on the rug beside the bed. "It seems likely Blackstone was drinking from that glass just before he was attacked. Can you tell whether or not the wine had been poisoned?"
"I'll need a sample to test before I can be sure," said Gaunt. "But I can tell you straightaway whether the wine contained anything harmful. That's a simple spell."
He stretched out his left hand towards the wineglass and muttered something under his breath. A cold breeze seemed to blow suddenly through the room, and then was gone. Gaunt shook his head, and lowered his arm. "It's perfectly harmless." He knelt down beside the glass, dipped his finger into the remaining dregs, and then sucked his finger clean. "One of my better wines. I'll run some checks in my laboratory, just to be sure there isn't anything else in it, like a mild soporific, but I'm sure any spell would have detected even that. May I take the glass?"
"I'm afraid not," said Hawk. "That has to stay where it is for the moment. We may need it for evidence later on. But you're welcome to take a sample of the wine itself; just don't disturb the glass."
Gaunt hesitated. "Captain Hawk, there's something else; something unusual in this room."
"Where?" said Hawk quickly.
"I don't know, but it's definitely something magical." Gaunt frowned, and looked at Blackstone's body. "Perhaps William was carrying a protective charm of some kind."
Hawk looked at Fisher. "Have you searched the body?"
"Not yet. I was waiting for you to get back."
"All right; let's take a look."
Hawk knelt down beside Blackstone's body, took a deep breath to steady himself, and started with the jerkin pockets. He found two handkerchiefs, one badly in need of a wash, and a handful of loose change. He dumped both the handkerchiefs and the money beside the body, then tried the trouser pockets. Some more loose change, and a half dozen visiting cards. Hawk dumped them with his other finds. He thought a moment, and then carefully undid Blackstone's high collar. He nodded slowly as the stiff cloth fell away to reveal a silver chain around the dead man's neck. Using only his fingertips. Hawk pulled gently at the chain until the amulet it held came out from under the dead man's shirt. It was a bone amulet, with a series of tiny runes etched deep into the bone. It was spotted with the dead man's blood. Hawk held it up so that Gaunt could see it.
"Do you know what this is, sir sorcerer?"
"Yes. It's an amulet of protection. The witch Visage made it for William. I tested it for her myself a few days ago, to make sure it would work. It was designed to protect the wearer against magical attacks. Any spell aimed at William would have ceased to work in his vicinity. A very useful defense."
"So curses and the like would have had no effect on him?" said Fisher slowly.
"Not as long as he wore the amulet," said Gaunt. "Anything of a magical nature would cease to be magical once it came anywhere near William. It would become magical again once it had moved beyond the amulet's sphere of influence, of course."
"Of course," said Hawk. He dropped the amulet onto Blackstone's chest. "How big a sphere of influence would such an amulet have?"
"No more than a few inches. It's not a very powerful amulet, but then, it doesn't need to be."
"So whatever else happens," said Fisher, "we can safely assume that Councilor Blackstone wasn't killed by magic?"
"I don't see how he could have been," said Gaunt.
"Thank you, sir sorcerer," said Hawk. "You've been very helpful. Perhaps you would now be so kind as to join your guests in the parlor. My partner and I will join you shortly."
"Very well," said Gaunt. He looked from Hawk to Fisher, and then settled on Hawk, his dark eyes steady and disconcertingly cold. "William was my friend. I don't think I've ever known a man I admired more. I'll do everything I can to help you find the man who killed him. I give you my word on it."
He nodded abruptly to them both, turned quickly on his heel, and left. Hawk sat down on the bed and stared moodily at the dead man. Fisher leaned lazily against the wall.
"A very pretty exit speech," she said calmly.
"Very," said Hawk. "I hope he doesn't turn out to be the murderer. Trying to arrest a sorcerer as powerful as he's supposed to be might prove rather difficult. Not to mention extremely dangerous. On the other hand, if he isn't our killer, we'd better find the man responsible before Gaunt does. At least with us he'd live to stand trial."
"Yeah." Fisher leaned her head back against the wall and frowned thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Do we assume that Gaunt is right, and Blackstone wasn't killed by magic?"
"It's a simple choice," said Hawk. "Either the amulet is what Gaunt said it is, or it isn't. If it is, Blackstone couldn't have been killed by magic. But if Gaunt was lying;"
"Unlikely. He must have known we'd check with Visage."
"Unless they're working together."
"I hate conspiracies," said Fisher.
"Yeah," said Hawk. "And I hate it when there's magic involved; it complicates the hell out of a case."
"Have you found the key yet?" said Fisher suddenly, looking vaguely about her.
"Damn. Knew I forgot something." Hawk scowled down at the d
ead man. "It wasn't in his pockets." He got to his feet and looked around him.
He and Fisher moved back and forth around the room, but couldn't see anything that even looked like a key. Finally they both got down on their hands and knees and started combing through the thick rugs with their fingers.
"Here!" said Fisher. She clambered awkwardly to her feet, holding up a key she'd found by the door. "It must have been left in the keyhole, and fell out when you smashed the lock."
"Assuming that is the right key," said Hawk, getting to his feet.
"Oh, come on, Hawk! What are the odds on there happening to be another key lying on the floor right by the door?"
Hawk smiled and shrugged. "Sorry, lass. That's the trouble with cases like this; you start doubting everything. We'll show Gaunt the key, and he can tell us for sure."
"Why don't we just try it in the lock?"
"Because after what I did to that lock with my axe, no key would work it."
Fisher glanced at the smashed lock, and nodded reluctantly. "I see what you mean. We'll ask Gaunt." She slipped the key into her trouser pocket.
"All right," said Hawk, "let's try and recreate what happened here. Blackstone was stabbed with a knife. The door was locked from the inside. So how did the killer get in and out?"
"Teleport?" said Fisher.
Hawk frowned. "It's possible, I suppose, but a spell like that takes a lot of power and a hell of a lot of expertise. And the only person here who fits that description is;"
"Gaunt," said Fisher.
"Visage wouldn't have the power," said Hawk. "Would she?"
"So far, this case has been nothing but questions with no trustworthy answers," said Fisher disgustedly. "This case is going to be a challenge. I hate challenges. We were better off with the vampire. At least we knew where we were with him."
"Come on," said Hawk. "Let's go down and face the crowd in the parlor. Maybe we can get some answers out of them."
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