by Helen Harper
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. Perversely, 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.
‘Smoking gun,’ I grinned.
‘Not quite,’ Winter answered. ‘But we’re getting close.’
I waved the Cypher file at him. ‘There’s this too.’ I opened it up. There was nothing there other than the long catalogue list of available spells but it was another nail in Price’s coffin, even if only a small, slightly crooked one.
‘It’s not enough,’ Winter said. ‘Given the nature of this investigation and who we are accusing, we need things to be watertight.’
I folded my arms. ‘Price had Volume 9 in his possession for days,’ I argued. ‘We can’t just leave him out there on the streets. He could already be putting his nefarious plans in place. We were looking for Marsh’s file. We’ve found it. Bring Price in and get him to confess.’
Winter shook his head. ‘He still has plausible deniability.’
‘We can’t leave him out there to do damage! The easiest way…’
‘This isn’t about the easy way, Ivy. This is about the right way.’
I glared at him. Good grief, he could be infuriating sometimes. ‘So what’s the right way?’
He met my eyes. ‘We find Price and follow him,’ he said grimly. ‘Then we can discover exactly what he’s up to.’
Less than an hour later, I pulled up my taxi as close to The Herboire as I could. It had only taken Winter a couple of phone calls to discover that most evenings Price hung out at this pretentious wine bar. I didn’t even know that wine bars still existed.
Winter was already waiting outside, gazing up at the place as if he’d just discovered a new species. ‘Welcome to the nineties!’ I said, joining him.
He threw me a confused look. ‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ he said. ‘And I still don’t understand why we couldn’t take my car.’
‘I meant,’ I said, ‘that no self-respecting millennial would be found hanging around in a time warp like this. And I took my taxi so I don’t have to traipse back to the Order headquarters.’ I gave him a pointed glance. ‘You could have come with me and left your car.’
Winter snorted. ‘My car has all the equipment we need to make an arrest.’
My eyes widened. ‘Handcuffs?’
He nodded. ‘Amongst other things.’
‘Whips? Chains?’ I pushed myself onto my toes and examined his features. ‘Do you spend your free time hanging out in S&M clubs?’ Winter tsked. I smirked. This was fun. ‘So what’s the plan?’
‘We wait until Price comes out then we follow him at a safe distance.’
I considered this. ‘And what if he just goes home?’
‘Then we stake out his house until he makes another move.’
‘But that could be days.’
‘If that’s what it takes to bring this bastard down, Ivy, that’s what we’ll do.’
Winter might be happy to sit around waiting for Price to do something but I couldn’t be arsed. Deciding I had a much better idea – and that it probably wouldn’t appeal to my grumpy partner – I nodded my head. ‘Well, I think I’ll go grab a nap. I want to be fresh and alert for when he puts his newfound magic into action.’ I pointed towards the wine bar. ‘Unless he’s already persuaded the poor owner of this dump to jump to his every whim and we’re too late.’
Winter peered in through the windows. ‘He’s just having a drink. There’s hardly anyone else in there. I think we’re safe for now.’ He said all this with a completely straight face, as if it were possible that Price was going to take over England by subjugating one wine bar at a time. He looked back at me. ‘Do you seriously need to nap?’
‘Oh yes.’ I bobbed my head vigorously. ‘We can take turns. You can rest later.’ Before he could point out that this was a silly idea, I jogged back to my taxi and slid into the driver’s seat. I slumped down as if getting comfortable, aware that Winter was still watching me. It was touch and go whether I’d get away with this but, when he marched across the road to take up position in an alleyway, I reckoned I’d succeeded. It was for the best. I didn’t want to have to trail after Price for days. Or even hours. Winter would thank me later.
I didn’t have long to wait. I was just getting comfortable, with my eyes drifting closed, when Price’s weedy figure emerged from the bar. I sat bolt upright, hastily clipped on my seatbelt and flipped on my taxi-for-hire light. Price glanced one way up the street then the other, caught sight of me and raised his arm. I mentally high-fived myself.
‘Ivy,’ I whispered, ‘Winter was right. You are a sodding genius.’
I put the taxi into gear and indicated, driving the short distance to where Price was waiting. With the dark night and my bright headlights, he wouldn’t get the chance to see who I was until it was too late.
Price clambered in the back. ‘Willowbrook Lane,’ he grunted. ‘And I know the route like the back of my hand so don’t try the long way round.’
I waited a beat for him to recognise me. When all he did was settle into his seat and look out the window, my grin widened. ‘Absolutely, sir,’ I murmured. I caught sight of Winter’s pale face as he stepped
out from the shadows and stared as I drove off. I gave him a tiny nod. Work smarter, not harder. He’d learn.
It didn’t appear that Price’s little sojourn and tipple had done anything to relax him. The bruises under his eyes were even more pronounced and he kept twisting his fingers in his lap. He was acting like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders – or a very guilty conscience.
I was debating my next move when Price’s phone rang. His expression contorted in a grimace but he still answered it. ‘Yeah?’
I kept my eyes on the road but my focus was on Price. Was he speaking to an accomplice? Maybe I’d get all the evidence I needed without having to do more than drive around for a bit. I might even get lucky and he’d give me a tip.
‘I can’t do that, Mother,’ Price hissed. ‘I don’t have time.’
He paused as whoever was speaking to him replied. Whatever they were saying, it didn’t please him in the slightest. ‘I’ve got people breathing down my neck in all directions. And no, not just the Ipsissimus. I’ve got a bunch of idiots working for me, all of whom make it very clear that they despise me. That Villeneuve fellow completely fucked up and sent some First Level to the back of beyond, causing no end of trouble that I got the blame for. It was hardly my fault that he messed up. No one understands the stress I’m under.’
His caller said something but, despite straining my ears, all I could hear was an indistinct murmur.
‘Don’t you think I’ve tried that?’ Price half yelled, half whined. ‘They won’t listen to anything I say! I’m at my wits’ end. Even the bloody receptionist throws daggers when she thinks I can’t see. She’s been letting almost anyone in through the door as if she doesn’t care, and she laughed in my face when I tried to talk to her about it this morning. They’re a bunch of lazy incompetents. I’ve had enough. I don’t want this any more. I’m thinking of quitting.’ There was a pause. ‘I don’t care if other witches don’t quit! I’ve had enough!’ He jabbed viciously at a button on the phone and tossed it down beside him.
I wrinkled my nose. Shrugging, I put plan B into action and indicated right when I should have gone left. Despite his earlier warning, it took Price a few moments to realise what I’d done. I was already down a darkened street and heading in the opposite direction out of town when it finally dawned on him that we weren’t going to his home.
‘Hey!’ he protested, sitting forward. ‘I told you, no funny business! Where are we?’
‘Taking a short cut,’ I said cheerfully, watching him in the mirror. On this road and at this time of night, it was unlikely I’d have to worry about oncoming traffic. I needed to keep my eyes on my new captive.
Price blinked. ‘You’re a woman?’
‘You only just noticed?’ Not that I should be surprised, given what I already knew of the man.
He stared at the back of my head then into the mirror at my reflection. ‘I know you,’ he said slowly.
‘Yes. You do.’ I smiled.
His eyes shifted and he started to reach into his pocket. Taking one hand off the steering wheel, I drew a rune that made his seatbelt tighten. It yanked him backwards, constricting his movements. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he screamed. ‘Let me go!’ He jerked wildly against the belt, panic guiding his movements. With his hands still free, he belatedly realised that he could still cast a spell against me. The fingers on his right hand began to draw, a sluggish rune designed to hurt. I responded by magicking up a barrier, which his spell fell against uselessly. His mouth dropped open. ‘What the hell was that?’
‘Something I’ve been working on for a while,’ I told him. In truth, I hadn’t been sure it would work against higher-level spells. Price really had been promoted beyond his abilities. My barrier wouldn’t hold against another spell, though, regardless of how weak it was. He didn’t need to know that. ‘Try anything again,’ I threatened, ‘and you’ll be sorry.’
Fear flared in his eyes and he did nothing to disguise it. ‘Let me out! Stop this car and let me out, you bitch!’
‘What is it with the word bitch?’ I enquired.
Price was too busy screaming to hear me. ‘Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!’
Good grief. Even Bell End and Alice were less annoying than this and they’d been trussed up for days. ‘Are you scared?’ I asked softly. ‘Because you should be.’
I’d hardly done anything but Price’s fear was increasing. I was more used to being an object of derision than creating terror these days. It worried me slightly that I enjoyed it.
Price started babbling away nonsensically to himself. To my surprise, he didn’t attempt another spell; it was as if he’d already given up – and that was what disturbed me the most. I liked to think that if I were taken hostage I’d fight until my dying breath. Other than his incessant mumbles, Price seemed no longer willing to try.
I’d just reached my destination when a new pair of headlights swung into the road behind me. I glanced at them in the rear-view mirror; I reckoned Winter had caught up to us. That gave me about thirty seconds. Okay dokey. I pulled up, turned off the engine and, ignoring Price’s terrified whimper, got out of the car before hauling him out.
‘You’ve been a sneaky little bastard,’ I hissed in his face, keeping hold of his collar to stop him running away. It was lucky he was a scrawny fellow; I didn’t fancy my chances of trying this on anyone my own size – or larger.
He moaned. ‘Let me go. I’ve not done anything.’
I nearly laughed in his face. ‘Oh yes, you have. I know everything. Poor Oscar. Why did you choose him to be the fall guy?’ I asked. ‘What did he ever do to you?’
Price’s expression fell even further. ‘Who … who’s Oscar Marsh?’
I tutted. ‘Marsh? Is that his last name? I didn’t mention it.’
Too late, Price realised his mistake and did his best to backtrack. ‘Yes, you did!’ he burst out. ‘You were looking for his file the other day! You said his name then.’ Darn it. He was right. Then he swallowed, his nervousness betraying him.
I lowered my voice until it was dangerously soft, mimicking Winter when he was truly pissed off. Hey, if it worked for him then I’d give it a shot. Besides, Winter was already pulling up and I was out of time. ‘Why did you murder Diall? Was it so you could steal the Cypher Manuscript from him?’
Price swung his head towards Winter’s car, obviously praying this was someone who would rescue him from the mad blonde witch who’d kidnapped him. Winter, however, merely got out of his car and crossed his arms over his broad chest. His headlights illuminated both Price and me. When he stepped forward into the light and Price realised who he was, his shoulders sagged in defeat. ‘It was an accident,’ he mumbled. ‘I didn’t mean to do it.’
Triumph coursed through me. ‘Go on,’ I said, keeping my voice even although it was difficult not to fist pump the air.
‘I went to him to ask for help. I’d found the Cypher Manuscript in my drawer but I hadn’t put it there, I swear! I’d never have taken it. But when I realised what it was, I knew no one would believe me. I begged Diall to do something. At first he told me he’d look into it but then nothing happened. He didn’t do anything. You lot were crawling over everything and Diall had left me hanging. It was only a matter of time before I was fingered. So I went to see him again. He told me it was too late, I’d been an idiot and the smartest thing I could do was to come clean. All he worried about was himself and how this would reflect badly on him,’ Price said helplessly. ‘He said he’d made a mistake helping me to get this job, that I was going to screw it up after everything he’d done for me. He didn’t want anyone looking into my files too closely because they’d incriminate him. He told me that I had to confess to taking the Manuscript to save everyone else. He never cared about me! He only ever cared about himself!’
I stared at Price. Everything he’d said sounded like the truth. He was too anxious and panicked and it seemed like he wanted to get it all off his chest. Had he really bee
n set up from the start? If so, by whom?
‘What did you do with the Manuscript?’
He dropped his head again, the picture of misery. ‘I planted it in Oscar Marsh’s desk. He’s a drunk and an idiot. Diall had complained about him often enough so I knew he’d be perfect. If someone was going to blame me then I’d blame someone else. I burnt one page, went to his house and left a fragment there for someone to find.’ He stared with wild, writhing eyes. ‘It was only because I didn’t have a choice! There was no other way out! You’d never have believed me if I’d told you the truth.’
‘Did you kill Adeptus Exemptus Diall because you didn’t have a choice?’ Winter asked so quietly that it took a moment for his word to register.
Price gazed back at him. ‘It was an accident! When I told him I wouldn’t confess to something I hadn’t done, he tried to arrest me! He was going to use a spell against me and turn me in so I grabbed his knife to try and hold him off. I didn’t mean it to hurt him.’
‘It didn’t hurt him, Price,’ Winter said. ‘You hurt him. You killed him.’
Price dropped to his knees and started to sob. ‘I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to. Oh God, please help me.’ His shoulders started to shake and he covered his face with his hands, unable to say another word.
Winter had no sympathy. He reached into his car and drew out a set of handcuffs. ‘Adeptus Major Price,’ he intoned. ‘You are under arrest by proclamation of the Hallowed Order of Magical Enlightenment. Any attempt to use magic to provoke, conceal or avoid taking responsibility for your actions will be held against you, regardless of your guilt or innocence. You are entitled to legal representation and to apply to the non-magical courts for consideration.’ He snapped the cuffs round Price’s wrists and pulled him up to his feet. Then he glanced at me. I gave him a smug smile. Yeah, I’d solved Diall’s murder.
In your face, Order Boy. In. Your. Face.
Chapter Twenty-Four
