Moggies, Magic and Murder

by Pearl Goodfellow

  The last time David and I had managed to get inside Burning Peak, it had been the waterfall that had granted our exit from the sacred cavern. We were led there, down a secret passageway located inside the cave, by a friendly grumlin.

  Okay, so it wasn’t exactly a ‘pleasant’ way out of the mountain, but it had certainly worked. A one hundred foot drop through a torrent of rushing cold water and we were free. It had proved to be a discreet exit point, and discretion was practically the grumlins’ credo. They were a very private bunch, these kindly rock cutters.

  A thought hit me.

  “But coming out that way was one thing,” I said to the chief. “Going in, though? That’s going to be one heck of a climb, David.”

  “And through a water pressure usually saved for prisoner’s being ‘hosed,’ yeah,” he said, rocking on his feet. “But, chances are, Shields’ men will already be guarding it. I can’t imagine them not knowing it’s there. And, anyway, what choice do we have?”

  He was right. If the falls weren’t somehow being screened by the governor’s henchmen, then that would be the only way in. I just hoped that we’d see a grumlin there that could help our ascent, in case we needed it.

  I whistled for my cats who came trotting over to me to take their instructions.

  They nodded, meowed and chirruped their understanding.

  David gave Maude one last instruction. “Maude, I know you’re certain that this was a heart attack, but can I ask that you go over the evidence one more time? Just to make sure?”

  Maude raised her rodent eyebrows. “Well, CPI Trew, I do declare!” She teased. “Are you suggesting my preliminary findings aren’t conclusive enough for your police reports?”

  “Not at all, Maude. I know you’re very competent. It’s just … well, this is an unusual turn of events. I want to make sure we’re looking at attempted murder and not the act itself.”

  “Very well, chief, very well,” Maude said, laying an affectionate hand on David’s arm. “I will comb through everything once more. I should have another definitive answer for you … by tomorrow morning, say?”

  “There’s a reason why you’re the coroner we work so closely with,” my friend praised the toothy medical examiner.

  We said our goodbyes, and Hector Muerte walked us out. He moaned a surprised farewell before he shut the door.

  I looked down at Carbon and Fraidy. “Now, remember guys,” I said, giving my kitties a stern eye. “Send Jet to Dilwyn, and Jet only. Make sure he comes straight back to The Angel after he’s passed on his message, okay? Mr. Werelamb will know where to come, and Millie will know how much catnip to give Jet to get the job done. All of you are to wait for me at the apothecary, clear?”

  Fraidy and Carbon’s heads bobbed in a peculiar, circular motion.

  “What are you doing?” My eyes narrowed at them.

  “What?” They chimed together.

  “Why are you moving your heads like that? Is it a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’?”

  “Nes,” Carbon said.

  “Yo,” said Fraidy.

  I flung my arms up in the air, “Guys, seriously? Enough of the Indian head nod, alright?”

  They gave me another Indian head nod, and trotted off just as David thrust a broom in front of me. “Here,” he said. “Forget those goofballs. You know they’re going to do exactly what they want to do, anyway.” He pushed the besom into my hand. “I brought two along with me. I knew you’d walk here.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but I snapped it shut and hopped on the broom instead.

  David and I took to the skies, to see Gideon Shields, Cathedral’s governor, Chief Warlock, and all around sleaze-ball.

  He surely had to give us some answers. Right?

  CHAPTER 6

  David tumbled from the broom just as soon as we landed on Crystal Beach on the West coast of Cathedral Isle. My besom dropped slower on the descent so I couldn’t get to my friend immediately, but when I touched down, the chief was already curled up in a ball, his forehead to his knees, evidently trying to roll up the severe pain he was experiencing.

  I knelt down beside him and took his hand. “That’s it; we’re going back. I’m taking you to Howling Mercy hospital,” I commanded, reaching for my broom behind me.

  “No!” David’s face turned an intense crimson color, as he spat the word through his gritted teeth. His hand clasped mine even harder, and I felt the throb of blood in my fingertips. I could do nothing but stare, slack-jawed, at my friend in need.

  The chief heaved in great gulps of air, spittle flying off his lips as he steered his breath through his teeth in short grunts. I looked away, and let the hot tears fall freely down my cheeks. I bit down on my bottom lip to stop its frenetic trembling.

  “I’m okay,” my friend wheezed, slackening his grip on my hand somewhat.

  I dared to turn my head toward him again. He was sitting up now, and the livid red color slowly dissipated from his cheeks. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his right arm and looked at me sheepishly. “I guess I should go for a check-up, huh?”

  I held my breath and said nothing.

  You might wonder why I’m so freaked-out by David’s physical discomforts? You see, twice already, the chief has been hexed by no-good Unseelie sympathizers and Warlock-appreciators alike.

  I made a mental note to ask Portia Fearwyn if she would take a look at my friend and see what she made of his ever-growing list of ailments. If anyone could tell us anything, it would be the Witch Fearwyn. She’d be able to detect if there was magic at play. And, by now, I was certain there was.

  David had been played like a marionette twice before, and I wasn’t going to stand around and watch it happen for a third time.

  The chief stood up and stumbled the three or so meters to the shoreline. He reached down and scooped up some chilly salt water and splashed his face and neck. I saw sweat leeching its way through the back of his navy shirt. David put his hands on his hips and leaned backward, exhaling a loud breath as he bent.

  He turned toward me and gave a strained smile. “Ready when you are.”

  Again, I said nothing, just climbed on my broom, so we could tackle the rest of the journey to Chalice, Cathedral’s capital, and also the seat of one Gideon Shields.

  Keeping my broom steady I waited for David to mount his stick. He seemed to be steadier now, so I pointed the nose of my chariot upward, and together the chief and I soared over the breathtaking backbone of Cathedral; the mighty Glimmer Mountains.

  Burning Peak stood like an ancient sentinel in the center of the range. We flew by the gargantuan pyramid on its left flank, and that’s when I noticed David was in trouble again. I pulled up on his inside to keep him on the outer edge of the craggy side of the mountain, and reached out a hand to steady the chief. I pushed on his left shoulder in an attempt to keep him straight.

  We finally dropped to the lower fells of the mountain, and David once again recovered somewhat.

  “You okay?” I shouted across to him.

  The blood had drained from my friend’s cheeks. He nodded, gave me a thumbs-up, and then faced forward, his eyes focused on the glittering horizon of Chalice ahead.

  Ordinarily, we’d be greeted by Shields’ assistant and be made to wait for twenty minutes or so until we were permitted access to the governor’s palatial office. But, this time Gideon had graced us with his own reception. The governor was waiting just outside the elevator, and as the doors open, his shark-grin was the first thing David and I saw.

  Shields steered us immediately toward his lair.

  “So glad you could come,” the governor enthused. “I knew I wouldn’t have to call you and wait for your questions. I’m impressed, Chief Para Inspector. You’re ahead of me.” Gideon gave David a conspiratorial look as if they were twelve-year-old friends speaking a secret language with one another.

  Shields pushed the door to his room inward. “I’m positive this is about dear Barnabus, yes?” His eyebrows and lips fell in a
parody of pity.

  Grotesque.

  “Among other things, yep.” David’s voice was neutral. His hair was still slightly damp from his earlier sweat-fest, and seawater splash, but otherwise, his shirt had dried, and he looked good.

  Yummy, in fact.

  “Of course, of course,” Shields cooed. “And, Hattie, how lovely to see you accompanying the chief again.” His golden eyes twinkled, and it made me feel sick. The governor apparently noticed my reaction to his greeting, because he didn’t try to put his hands on me for once. He tossed his caramel curls toward the office. “Please, go right in.”

  David and I sat down in front of a gigantic mahogany desk. The governor plopped down in his Herman Miller, crossed his ankle over his knee, and leaned back.

  “I’d like you to know, right off the bat, that I will answer all your questions openly. I can only hope that I will offer something of use, so we can catch the monster who did this to my right-hand man.” Gideon blew a boyish curl from his forehead. “Reprehensible,” he muttered.

  “Where were you at fifteen hundred hours on October Sixth, Governor Shields?” David said, pulling out his notebook with a shaky hand.

  “Well, I was still outside the courthouse talking to Senator Wolf, of course. It had been years since we had last met, and we had much catching up to do. I have plenty of witnesses to back up this truth,” Shields said, his eyes wide with innocence. “I’d be happy to give you names and numbers if that would help at all?”

  “It would,” David said. “Who do you know that might have something against, Kramp?”

  Gideon guffawed at this question. The governor slapped his thigh. “Oh, Chief Para Inspector, you’re too much!” Shields looked delighted. “The question would perhaps be better phrased as: ‘Who do I know that might NOT have something against Kramp.” Again, the governor's eyes danced with a humor that looked utterly mirthless.

  Shields leaned across his desk, so his handsome face was close to ours. “Kramp only had haters, CPI Trew. Barnabus’ line of work ensured that he would collect no devotees. Barney was compensated very well because of it.”

  David didn’t react to Gideon’s jig. “What about someone who was ‘supposed’ to be close to Kramp? His wife? One of his colleagues in your inner circle?” The chief paused. “You?”

  Gideon’s lips curled up as he pushed back from the desk and slumped back in his seat again.

  “CPI Trew, has it escaped you that Kramp was my closest and most valuable aide?” Shields folded his hands on his lap and chuckled. “Who do you think got Barny that flimsy ruling?” The governor leaned forward again. “There’s no possible way I could wait for my second-in-command for a lifetime. Two years, though? Well, there’s a chance I could get by without Barnabus for two years.”

  I wanted to smack the self-satisfied grin from his tanned and smarmy face.

  “Still,” the governor said. “I wouldn’t suppose you’d do yourself any harm by visiting Zinnie Kramp and asking a few pertinent questions. Theirs wasn’t the happiest of marriages, as I’m sure you already know from past investigations.” Gideon paused. “In fact, Zinnie’s staying at the Fingernail Moon on your lovely isle right now. I believe she wanted to get away from the do-gooders and money-sniffers here, so she’s taking a break on Glessie.”

  “Finger on the pulse, huh, governor?” David asked. Writing down Shields intel on Barnabus’ grieving widow.

  “If you like,” the governor said looking directly into the chief’s eyes.

  “What do you know about Warlock grenades?” David asked while he had eye contact with the slimy politician.

  For a second, Gideon’s eyes flickered. “I only know that they are, oh, how would you say … passe?” He flicked a tongue over his perfect teeth. “Antiquated and charming, and good for nothing other than a plume of feeble flames? Inspector, you insult me. Does it look like I’m the kind of man to have the time to trifle with puny weapons such as these?”

  “So there is such a thing as a Warlock grenade?” David asked, scribbling in his notebook. He looked at Shields over the rim of his glasses.

  The governor’s lip twitched this time. I punched an imaginary fist in the air. Nice one, David! Nicely played!

  “I’m sure I have no idea whether there is an actual weapon called a Warlock grenade. I simply mean it’s a cute concept.”

  “I think you pretty much inferred just then that Warlock grenades were a ‘thing,’” I said, giving air quotations from my seat.

  The governor shrugged. “I can hardly know what goes on with every Warlock in the land, now can I?”

  “But, I’m sure your reach is pretty substantial,” David said. “Seeing as you’re the Chief Warlock now, and all.”

  Shields shook his head and laughed. “Who’d have thought, huh? When did you find out?”

  “I’m asking the questions here. Why did you decide to keep this fact concealed for so long? I mean, usually the wizarding community would know and announce the Warlock Chief appointment within days of the last chief dying, no?”

  “Are you suggesting that I should not have the option as to when I would like to announce my taking up of the mantle of Chief Warlock? Chief?”

  “I said it was unusual, nothing else,” David corrected.

  “Well, unusual or not, I decided to make the appointment public when I felt the time was right. And, quite frankly, it’s nobody’s business as to when, where or how I make my new position known.”

  Gideon’s eyes locked onto David’s. A battle of ‘the chiefs.’

  “Is the same also true of your manifesto as head of the Warlock maven?” David asked.

  Shields shifted in his seat. “I’m still new at this job, Chief Para Inspector.” He brushed some imaginary lint from his Armani pants. “As such, I’m putting some final touches into the manifesto, even now. All will become clear shortly, I can assure you.”

  “Anything in there that might bring about tensions between the paranormals and Unawakened? No Warlock superiority campaigns or anything like that, I’m guessing?”

  Shields held up his palms. “CPI Trew, I would only have it that the Warlocks garner equal representation in all matters. Political, sociological and otherwise. Warlock decision making has been, for too long now, under-delivered to the powers that be. I will absolutely be making changes to that current mechanism in the political arena.”

  “I wonder what ideas are coming from the ‘Warlock Decision Making’ machine?” I couldn’t resist butting in.

  “All in a timely manner,” Gideon replied, not taking his eyes off the chief.

  “Sounds like a threat,” David said.

  “Take it as you will,” Shields said, looking at his Rolex. “Look, I hate to be rude, but are there many more of these petty questions? I’m expected on a call in ten minutes, so I’m afraid I can really offer you no more of my precious time.” He slapped his hands on the desk as he rose from his seat to conclude our meeting.

  “What are your goons doing blocking off Burning Peak?”

  Gideon’s head turned slowly toward the chief. “Chief Para Inspector, if you can get a warrant to take a nosy around the Glimmer’s, then please, be my guest. But, I suspect that even Portia Fearwyn and her deep, black-ops outfits couldn’t get that permit.” Shields’ lips peeled back to reveal his chicklet teeth. “You see, CPI Trew, these are matters of Sovereignty. Rock Grumlin Sovereignty, to be precise. We are merely guarding their lands, as they have requested from us. The grumlins’ sovereign rights can’t be overturned, even if the license came from the Illuminati!” The governor clapped his hands together in a fit of childish glee.

  “You snake,” I said giving him my own snake-eye.

  “Yes. Quite. Now, if you’ll excuse me?” He didn’t wait for our response. Gideon Shields strode from the office, leaving the door wide open behind him.

  David and I looked at one another. “He’s using the rock grumlins’ territorial rights for his own purposes,” I said, my stomach churning at
the thought of these gentle creatures being so terribly exploited. I had images of them enslaved, in their caverns, being forced to mine the expensive diamonds. With no water, no food, no view to an end of their labor.

  “It sucks, I know,” David said. He looked crestfallen. “The least we can do is go out there now, and see if the waterfall entrance is still an option. Hopefully, Dilwyn’s waiting there already. Maybe we get the chance to talk to one of them little critters, and find out how they’re doing.”

  I sighed. “Sure you don’t want to get back? You didn’t look too good earlier, you know,” I chided.

  “Hat,” David looked directly into my eyes. “I’m okay. I need some sleep, sure. And, maybe some vegetables or something, but I’m not going to die on you, alright?”

  I reached out and squeezed my friend’s arm.

  “Well, I guess we’re here now on Cathedral, and it would make sense to go to Burning Peak now instead of having to fly back later.” I tried to make rational judgments just to block out David’s suffering.

  Besides, if there were still a way into the heart of the Glimmer Mountains, then I wanted to see it for myself`.

  “So,” my friend interrupted. “Think the governor’s hiding something?”

  “David, let’s be clear on this. I think Gideon Grotesque Shields is hiding everything.”

  The chief chuckled. “True,” he said. “But, do you think he killed Kramp? Or, rather, tried to have him killed?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t. I mean, Kramp was Gideon’s right-hand man. I think he did the bulk of Shields’ legal lifting, you know?”

  David tugged on his chin. “I know. It doesn’t seem to make any sense that the governor would ‘off’ his closest advisor,” he said. “But, on the other hand, I bet Barnabus had a chestful of unsavory information on our curly haired charmer.”

  I nodded. I could only imagine the dirt that Barnabus Kramp had likely been forced to stow away on behalf of this sleazy governor.

  “But he claims to have an alibi. Or, alibis. A conversation with Senator Wolf outside the courthouse, which he asserts wrapped up after the blast occurred.”