The Mutilated Merchant (The Edrin Loft Mysteries Book 1)

by Jon Evans

  An eyebrow was raised at that, "I take it you would like for us to help you identify the contents of the bottles then, Captain?"

  "If you can do so, I would very much appreciate it. We are trying to catch a murderer," Loft explained.

  "Very well, Captain. I remember that you were a good student and I was somewhat disappointed you didn't go into academics I must say. However, you seem to be trying to make the world a better place in your own way. I shall do what I can," the chemist replied.

  "Thank you, Professor Simmerson," Loft said.

  "May I ask a few questions?" Professor Simmerson asked.

  "I can tell you some things Professor, on the understanding that they're kept in the strictest confidence while we investigate the crime," Loft said.

  "Of course, I shall remain as quiet as a library mouse about the topic; you have my word" the Professor swore.

  "Can you tell me where and in what circumstances these bottles were found? " Simmerson asked, reaching for a notepad.

  "The bottles were found on the property of a murder victim. He was a merchant trading in spices, and all those bottles were meticulously labelled. There were several of these in the box, an equal number of each type, he had ordered similar bottles over the years from a local glassblower as well," Loft said.

  "Do you have any idea who might have made the contents?" Simmerson asked.

  "It's my belief that he made these bottles himself, he had a herb garden, traded in all sorts of spices, herbs and plants and had a reasonably sophisticated apothecary setup in his basement," Loft answered.

  "Have you sniffed, opened, or inspected the contents and if so, what were the results? Other than you receiving a lecture from your old chemistry lecturer for sniffing unknown substances, of course," Simmerson said.

  "No, we didn't sniff the contents or taste them or anything so reckless. I remember your thoughts on the subject," Loft said.

  "Do you have any guesses as to what they are, what the purpose might be? Are there more of these bottles?" the Professor asked, ticking each question off on his fingers as he went.

  "I think the bottles contain poison and he was selling them to criminals. Our pathologist did try and identify the substances in them, but wasn't able to help and suggested we come to you. Before you ask, the victim was violently murdered, he wasn't poisoned as far as we know. We haven't found any more of the bottles, at least, not with any contents in them. I hope that helps, Professor," Loft explained.

  "If you don't object to leaving these in my care then, Captain, you can come back later today, and I'll have our best answer for you. Say, in the early afternoon?" Simmerson said.

  "That soon? That would be excellent, Professor. Thank you for your help," Loft said.

  "Yes, there's only so much we can do I'm afraid. If we start with the assumption that they're poisonous or perhaps a drug of some kind, we can narrow the tests that we do to try and identify the contents. Especially if there's a good chance, they're based on something herbal or extracted from a plant, which I think is a good possibility. Tell me, did the basement contain a wide variety of chemicals? Alcohol for starters, acids, alkalis, exactly the sorts of things you'd have seen in our laboratories?"

  "Alcohol probably, though we're still cataloguing the full contents. I didn't notice a huge range of chemicals though. We can check and let you know either way if that will help," Loft said.

  "If he didn't have a lot of chemicals that does make it much more likely he was extracting something from his herb garden, or from his spices. If you can get me a list of the things that you know he had, that would help us narrow our options," Simmerson said.

  "Constable Knave, that'll be your next task. Write down everything that was in that shop, note if it was in the basement or one of the spices and then give the list back to the Professor when you're done," Loft said.

  Knave nodded happily, "Yes, Sir." He turned toward the Professor and asked, "Do you have a pen and paper I can borrow, please, sir?"

  "We have our own at the Watch House, Constable," Loft said.

  "Yes, Sir but it's a long walk, and I might as well do it here?" Knave said.

  With a somewhat bemused expression, the Professor pointed the constable to a writing desk that faced the window, and the young Watchman walked over, sat down and began to write.

  Loft and the Professor shared a puzzled glance and then walked over to see what he was doing. Knave had started a list, noting the name of the spice, the colour and the comments on the label. After a few minutes, he had filled the first sheet of paper and passed it to the Professor.

  "Constable, are you telling me you can remember all the spices in the shop after seeing them for just a few minutes?" Loft asked.

  "Oh no, Sir. I was in the shop for a couple of hours guarding it," Knave replied.

  "A couple of hours? And you memorised all the labels? Why?" asked Loft.

  "There wasn't anything else to read, Sir," Knave answered as he wrote.

  The Professor and Loft shared another bemused glance. "I think this might take some time, Professor, there were a lot of jars in the shop. Perhaps I might leave the Constable here to finish?"

  "Hmm?" the Professor seemed lost in thought, staring at the watchman, working at his desk, "What? Oh, yes, that's fine of course."

  He leaned forward and whispered, "Are you sure he's watch material, Loft?"

  "I think Constable Knave has a bright future in the watch, Professor," Loft replied. He had to type Knave on the shoulder twice before he got his attention.

  The constable looked up at him, "Sir?"

  "Walk with for a moment, Constable, I need a word," Loft said.

  Knave looked torn between obeying and staying at the desk to complete the list, "Now please, Constable. You can finish the list in a minute."

  Reluctantly, Knave followed Loft into the garden, "I'm going back to Old Gate, Knave. I need you to stay here with the Professor, finish the list for him and then stay here to get his findings. If he asks about any of the spices or chemicals, you can tell him what you saw, describe them for him and so on,"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Don't give him Perl's name or any details about the shop or the murder, though. The University faculty is full of gossips, and the students are even worse. I don't want any information getting out about the murder unless we mean it to. Understood?" Loft said.

  "Yes, Sir. The Professor can know about the chemicals and the spices, and I can answer questions about them. I'm not to tell him anything else about the murder though," Knave said.

  "Correct. Once you've finished the list, hang around, don't get in the way. If the Professor allows it, watch what he does in the laboratory, it'll be educational. Don't touch anything and definitely don't smell anything. If you do, the law won't be able to protect you from the Professors wrath, I can assure you. When you have his results, bring them back to the Watch House and if I'm not there, find out where I am and deliver them to me," Loft ordered.

  Orders received, Knave scurried back to the Professor's office, positively champing at the bit to get on with his work, which was an excellent attitude to find in an employee, Loft thought.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Loft found Gurnt waiting for him in the Old Gate Watch House. "Did you find out anything about the missing link?" he asked.

  "According to the clerks, someone tripped over and fell into him last week just by the steps leading into the council chambers. They grabbed the chain as they fell and it broke. The link we found has been missing ever since. The chain was at taken to a goldsmith to have a new one made," she said.

  "So how did the link we found link make it into our spice merchant's bedroom?" Loft asked.

  "It doesn't seem likely, does it, Sir? I think someone must have left it there deliberately, trying to mix him up in this," Gurnt said. Loft nodded in agreement. It was altogether too convenient a clue.

  "That does tell us something though, Sergeant. The person who killed this man isn't a lunatic, or at leas
t, not entirely. They are trying to incriminate someone and not an obvious person either. Wouldn't you choose someone who knew the merchant or lived near him? Why choose a politician unless you had something against them too?" Loft asked.

  "Fair point, Sir. I can't see this preening peacock killing someone, let alone like that," Gurnt said.

  "Me neither. What else do you have for me?" Loft asked.

  Gurnt flipped through the notes given to her by Constables Swint and Libult. "The staff describe the man as wearing a green cloak with gold embroidery, fastened with a large brooch in the form of a snake. No-one recognised him, and he had no remarkable features. Neither young nor old, of average height and black hair. The chain broke, and everyone was too busy picking up the pieces and Councillor Mohran to realise that one of the linking medallions and the man were missing. The Councillor was too embarrassed by the incident and the theft to want to report it and to be fair, the chances a Watch House would have been able to find it would be slim anyway. Much though I don't want to be fair to the slimy little turd," Gurnt said.

  "I don't want to be fair to him either, Sergeant. Based on this though, we have to release him immediately. Have Corporal Skorta do it once you and I are out of the building. We don't need to get into an argument with him now," Loft said.

  "Right, ho, Sir. What then?" Gurnt asked.

  "I think we need to find this man, Sergeant. If he was trying to discredit the Councillor and went to the trouble of staging an incident so he could get something that would easily identify him, he must have had a reason. Perhaps the Councillor is involved in something or obstructing them in some way?" Loft replied.

  "Constables Swint and Libult!" Gurnt bellowed. The two officers came running at the sound of the sergeants far from dulcet tone.

  "Sarge?" they said before seeing the Captain and saluting.

  "There's nothing in your notebook about the Councillor and what he does? Did you remember to ask or did you just treat your orders as an excuse for a little jolly in posh surroundings?" Gurnt asked them, her voice so icy it could have chilled blood from across the room.

  "Yes, Sarge. We asked, we just didn't think it was important," came the response.

  "Well next time I give you an order, you bloody well do it, understood? I don't care if you think it's not important. We're not the Palace, we don't hand out jobs that don't bloody well need doing. If the Captain asks for information about someone, do you think he didn't have a good reason?" Gurnt shouted.

  They had the good grace to look somewhat abashed and that and murmured their confirmation.

  "Bloody right, no, Sarge. Now, would you kindly tell us what the Councillor does when he's not poncing about in fancy jewellery a tuppenny upright girl would consider garish?" Gurnt said.

  "Well, it didn't seem to make much sense to me, Sarge. They said he's in charge of customs and exercise and he'd been trying to raise taxes on material. Can't see why anyone would want to murder someone who looks after traditions and taxing clothes, Sergeant." Constable Libult said sheepishly.

  "To be fair, Sergeant, I'm not sure taxes on cloth by the yard are much of a concern either," Loft said.

  The look he received from Gurnt could charitably be described as withering. Perhaps with a little condescension thrown in for good measure.

  "Not material, Sir. Constable Libult didn't go to a good school like you or serve in the Army like me," she said, looking even more exasperated if that were possible when he still didn't get it.

  "Materiel, Sir. As in military materiel. Weapons, equipment, arrows, uniforms, that sort of thing. While I'm educating you lot, it's Customs and Excise, Constables. The bureaucrats who decide what needs to be taxed and why, and come after you if you don't pay up. Mostly they deal with the merchant classes. If Mohran was going after taxes on weapons and similar stuff, it stands to reason he'd be trying to get more done by Customs and Excise to catch people who weren't being taxed at all, let alone pay his increased taxes," Gurnt explained.

  Loft felt himself flush a shade usually associated with a pickled root vegetable. "Of course, that does make a lot more sense. I suppose we have to go back in with him after all, Sergeant."

  That wiped the look of Gurnt's face, sure enough. She sighed and dismissed the chastised constables.

  "Best do it now before we think of an excuse not to be in the same room as him." she suggested.

  "Too late for that, he's a terrible human being, and I'd rather eat raw beef than talk to him again. He might actually have something more useful to say this time though, and perhaps this will work in our favour," Loft said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "What can you tell us about your plans to for Customs and Excise, Councillor?" Loft asked.

  Mohran just glared at him, remaining silent. After a few minutes, Loft gritted his teeth and asked again.

  "Councillor, we need to know what you are working on in your capacity as a District Councillor. Without that information, we don't have a motive for someone else to commit the crime you're accused of, leaving you the only person with a reason to murder Anar Perl," Loft explained.

  He continued, "If you are doing something that might upset someone, that would be a motive for them to implicate you in a criminal act. If on the other hand, you spend your time doing bureaucratic work and attending Council meetings about repairs to cobbled streets, you probably don't provoke much emotion. It's in your interests to tell us what you do. We've been told that you're trying to reform some of our taxes," Loft said.

  Mohran sat silently in his chair, visibly seething with anger and Loft waited patiently. After a few minutes of this, the councilman gave in and broke the silence, "I sit on a committee responsible for taxation within the city, part of that requires us to work with the Customs and Exercise agents of the Crown."

  "Can you give us a bit more detail on that work?" Loft asked.

  "Certain taxes are collected by local tax collectors on behalf of the city. The Crown collects taxes that are paid across the nation. I'm pushing for the Customs officers to collect more taxes for certain types of trade" Mohran expanded, grudgingly.

  "What sort of trade are you looking to change the taxes on?" Loft asked.

  "Weapons and armour. The sort of thing you'd use to equip an army but also the sort of thing that criminals might use," Mohran said.

  "Why that in particular?" Loft said.

  "Because there's probably a large illicit trade in items that can only realistically be used to commit crimes. What does a businessman need a chain mail shirt for? If it's being imported, the Watch and a few organisations such as banks or the Treasury are the only legitimate customers. It's not as if we have a standing army to speak of anymore," said Mohran.

  "So your intention is to make it harder for criminals to obtain weapons?" Loft asked.

  Mohrah laughed at that. "Yes, in part. Look, if we tax the weapons that come into the city, that's not going to stop criminals getting hold of them. They can steal them, after all. It will increase the price people pay and make it harder for them though. More importantly, it will bring revenue to the city. That revenue we can then spend on feeding the poor or repairing our roads or funding the Watch. I've made my career as a politician on trying to make sure people pay the tax they're supposed to."

  "Can you think of any reason why a criminal gang might be bothered by what you're doing? After all, you say they'll still be able to get weapons, and I can't disagree with that. Why would they want to the trouble of making you look guilty of this murder?" Loft asked.

  "I don't know, Captain," Mohran shrugged. He sighed and stared at the table for a minute, then a look of realisation crossed his face, "I did propose last month that the Crown expand the Customs and Excise within the city so that they had more people to look for people evading tax and smuggling. We are the capital, we're a sea port and a river port to boot, so a lot of smuggling goes on here."

  "What form would that expansion take?" said Loft.

  "The idea was quite simple.
We'd take one of the medium sized Watch Houses and second those men to the Customs and Excise. Their primary duty would be to collect more tax, enforcing the tax laws the current Excisemen don't have the manpower for. Any increased revenue could be used to fund any shortfall that would create in the Watch, though I don't think there'd be any need, to be honest. If it worked, we could have more Watchmen and some assigned specifically to catching smugglers and tax evaders. The Customs and Excise are under-staffed - they have people all across the country, and there's only so much they can do," Mohran explained.

  "So there'd be an actual impact on any smuggling gangs because you'd be hunting them down?" said Loft.