The Chimera Charm

by Pearl Goodfellow

  “So, you were close with Morag, back in the day,” David interjected. “Did this little ‘friend-huddle’ include Cressida and Infirma too?”

  Cressida shook her head and started pacing. “No, worlds apart, those two. I always thought that was a shame. Maybe if Nebula had had as good a friend in Infirma as I had in Morag…”

  She licked her lips again before jamming her fist in her mouth and rocking. Fraidy, who had boldly ventured out from behind my leg, immediately resumed his cover. We waited for Cressida’s fit to pass.

  “You know, Morag actually talked me out of hurting myself a couple of times?” She said, pulling her fist from her face.

  “When was this?” David asked, furiously jotting down details on his notepad.

  “Years ago, I don’t know how many. All I know is that she stopped me both times. She wrestled the knife out of my hand the first time. The second time…she yanked me away from the cliff. She was…crying, begging me never to do that again. If I ever wanted to get better, she argued, Midnight Hill was the only place it was going to happen.”

  The tears she’d been holding back finally emerged in silent trickles down her worn-out face. “Poor Morag…she deserved so much better.”

  With the increasing number of stories about Morag’s ‘kindness,’ I started to once more doubt Morag’s character.

  “But Morag needed help every once in awhile too,” Cressida croaked, swiping at her tears.

  “Help? From you ?” David couldn’t hide his disbelief. “I mean, what sort of help did you give?”

  “Oh, nothing major,” Cressida replied, leaning back in her chair to gaze at her ceiling. “She just needed a sounding board once in awhile. I guess she saw me as a ‘safe bet’ in terms of keeping her secrets.” She cleared her throat with a high-pitched grunt. “Being crazy, and locked in here and all.”

  “What kind of ‘sounds’ did Morag make?” I asked, leaning forward in my chair. Cressida looked at me, her stare intent. “She loved Infirma with all her heart, of course, but her sister’s relentless ill health was never far from Morag’s mind. It stressed her out terribly, what with the mounting debt from her rambling estate and what not. Morag claimed that none of her co-workers were what she would call ‘friends.’” Instead of using fingers of both hands to display the recognized signal for air quotes, Cressida emphasized the word ‘friends’ using a forward flapping movement with both of her arms. She looked like a pterodactyl about to launch into flight. I felt Fraidy push closer into my calf.

  “Was there any one problem in particular that Morag needed to vent about? Anything that stood out from the regular ‘life’ stresses.

  “Oh yes, yes,” Cressida said, her face becoming animated. “Barnabus was often a thorn in her side. His name came up along with Gideon’s quite frequently.”

  “As in, Barnabus Kramp and Gideon Shields?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Both and the same, Hattie. I actually used to know this pair of powerhouse’s myself quite well. Nebula and I went out with Barnabus and Gideon on double dates back in the days of our carefree youth. Nebula, of course, paired herself with the handsome Gideon. I got Barny.”

  “What?” I asked. “How come this is the first time we’re hearing about this?”

  Cressida fluttered her hands like startled sparrows, her lipstick-smeared lips working at speed, “This was long before Nebula became famous. It’s all ancient history now, so I’m not surprised in the least you haven’t heard this previously.”

  “So I guess this foursome didn’t last?” David said.

  “It’s as you see, Chief Para Inspector,” Cressida said, waving her hands over her body. She paused, and her eyes showed a faraway look. “Back then, Nebula and I were pretty equal, you know? Different, too—we were twins, not clones—“

  David laughed, which made Cressida smile too. “But we were equals in every way that counted. You could tell Gideon and Barnabus were close too, but it was…out of balance.”

  “How exactly?” I asked with interest.

  “Well…Gideon was the one in charge, and Barnabus followed his lead like a little puppy dog. Far as I could tell, Barnabus never had an idea in his life. All of his thinking seemed to be drip-fed down from Shields. It wasn’t hard to spot that it was the latter who ran the show.” Cressida sighed. “I wanted much more from a man, so I broke up with him.”

  “What about Nebula and Shields?” David asked.

  “Neb had the opposite problem. Gideon thought he should be in charge of everything and everyone around him; including her. You can imagine how well THAT went down with her.”

  Given that Nebula had turned into a haughty, imperious and overbearing drama queen by the end of her life, it took very little imagination to get the picture.

  “So…did Morag ever visit you while you were here?” I asked.

  “After I stopped breaking out, yes,” Cressida confirmed. “She had to pull a few strings through the Cathedral government—and I’m not going to name names, so don’t ask, CPI Trew—but she came by here, yes.” Nebula’s twin’s eyes rolled up into her head, and she cackled loudly. This time Fraidy stuck his claws into my calf, holding on for dear life, evidently.

  “What do you remember about her last visit?” David asked, unfazed by Cressida’s most recent lunatic outburst.

  The inmate stood up and pressed her forehead to the glass, raising her hands to the side of her head and tapping her long fingernails against the transparent barrier. “It was about…a week ago? A week and a half, maybe? Time isn’t a central theme when you’re incarcerated twenty-four hours a day, and you live under lights that never go off.”

  David nodded, “Understood. What did Morag want to talk about?”

  Cressida stepped up the rhythm of her drumming fingers. “That was the thing…she wasn’t making a lot of sense. And, yes, I do have the faculty to determine whether people are either rambling or compos mentis. Anyway, Morag kept going on and on about how she’d been a part of something ‘bad.’ for a long time now. She hinted that her participation in this ‘badness' was now catching up with her.”

  “Sounds like Morag was riddled with guilt,” I noted. “Did she say what bad stuff she’d been up to?”

  “She never directly confessed to what trouble she was in. She just kept saying that she had to hide something. She even asked if it might be safe to leave ‘it’ here.” Cressida’s face cracked into a crafty smile. “But, of course, my cell is thoroughly searched these days. The orderly’s are convinced I’m hiding tools for my next escape.”

  “So, Morag was distressed on her last visit?” I pressed.

  “No, dear,” Cressida said shaking her head and removing her fingers from the windowpane. “There’s upset, there’s distraught, there’s completely freaked out, and then there is the state Morag was in. I was afraid she was going to wind up in an adjoining cell to be entirely honest.”

  “Was there anything coherent in her…ramblings?” David asked.

  “Just what I’ve already told you: How she was desperate to hide ‘the thing.’ Oh, and she mentioned that if anything ‘happened’ to her, then she wanted me to know how much our friendship meant to her.”

  “And then something did happen to her…which is why you got to thinking her death was a murder.”

  Cressida hung her head and sighed. But then she followed it up with a definitive nod.

  I stood, throwing Clipsy to the floor in the process. Walking up to the glass was probably going to strain Fraidy’s nerves, and not just because his cover had deserted him. But I knew I was in no danger from Cressida.

  The latter pressed her head against the glass once more, pressing the palm of her left hand against the barrier.

  “Whoever did this to Morag, find them.” She whispered.

  From the side of his mouth, Carbon whispered, “Oh, we will, Dr. Lecter. We will.”

  Chapter Ten

  “You can go right in, Inspector,” the governor’s assistant said after David show
ed his badge. “You’re expected.”

  Then she noticed me. “And, of course, your secretary is welcome to—“

  “Consultant,” I corrected her while puffing out my chest and lengthening my spine. I hoped my face looked hard enough to convey the importance of my position.

  The receptionist glared at me, and then turning back to David, she smiled sweetly and said, “He’s just through this door here. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?” David politely declined, took me by the wrist and steered me into the Cathedral governor’s office. The receptionist was apparently so distracted by David’s good looks that she didn’t notice Midnight and Shade slipping right in behind us.

  Bookshelves, top to bottom, lined the walls of Shields’ inner sanctum. It looked as if there might be enough volumes to stock the Keziah Mason Library. A great window dominated the back wall -- the only wall to not host a bookshelf -- offering a breathtaking view of Chalice and its glittering Black Diamond Cathedral. The view was money. Piles of it.

  “Did I not say now? Okay, good. So, please see to it. And see to it NOW,” Shields rich voice oozed into the receiver of his land-line phone. He hung up on the chastised caller and rose from his desk. The face of a grinning shark on impossibly strong legs strode toward us in greeting. Did he just lick his lips? Ew. I shuddered. I nearly went on a date with this guy, and I’ll admit I had thought of ‘doing’ other things with him too. I grimaced despite myself, because the guy was a God, no doubt about it. Gideon Shields was smothered in a cheeky, boyish-good-looks patina. His caramel curls fell in playful layers around his chiseled features, enhancing the sheen of his almost amber colored eyes.

  “Right on time, Chief Para Inspector,” he said with an extended hand. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

  David kept his face neutral as the men shook hands. I remained silent, feeling both disgust at the governor’s shady character, and awe at his astounding beauty. He was so …. classical.

  “And, of course, the divine Ms. Jenkins,” he said, taking my hand. “Business remains good at the Angel Apothecary, I trust?”

  “We get by,” I said to the man whom I suspected had once gotten away with murder. And on my watch.

  “As indeed we all do. Well, please…take a seat. I have a few minutes until my next appointment.”

  I sat down in the plush chair in front of the desk, scanning the room discreetly for my handpicked moggies. I saw Shade just before his eyes went ‘out,’ disappearing into the narrow edge of shadow at the bottom of the bookcase next to the window. I squinted slightly, and I could just make out his shape as he crept through the darkness. Midnight was in plain view, but out of the governor’s direct line of sight. Which was a blessing, because my night roaming cat had found a beam of sunlight filtering through the plate glass and was now sunning himself behind Shields’ back. My eyes nearly popped out of my head at my cat’s gall. Midnight turned his face upward toward the hazy shaft of light and closed his eyes. A soft kitty-smile gently stretched his furry cheeks, just to add to the ‘blissed out’ look on his face.

  Any second now. My forehead broke out in a cold sweat, as I faced the inevitable future of my sleuth-cat breaking out into a full purr, and blowing our cover. I knew his face, and that fuzzy face told me that a purr-a-thon was on the cards; and, soon. Midnight’s lips parted slightly. Oh, no, here it comes. I was going to have to feign a coughing fit so as to muffle my cat’s vocal appreciation of being baked alive by sunshine through glass. Out of nowhere a black paw shot out and bopped Midnight on the head. I watched the latter’s eyes spring open, as Midnight finally remembered what he was here for. I half watched as he slinked like a stealth furball toward Shields’ desk. To my horror, Shade was now hypnotized by the patch of sunlight. I watched in desperation as my Romeo cat flopped to the floor and rolled on his back to expose his tummy to the warming rays.

  I fully exaggerated clearing my throat. Shade’s ears flattened back, and he got to his feet, tossing me an awkward smile before he disappeared into the shadows again.

  “I imagine that you’ve come to talk about poor, deceased Morag,” Shields said, taking his chair.

  “Sad, but true,” David said, balancing his notepad on one knee as he searched for a pen. “What exactly was Morag’s connection to your office?” The chief asked as he rummaged in his jacket pockets.

  Shields gave my oldest friend a smirk that made me think his face would look better at the end of my fist. “It’s far from a popular notion that’s being applied to governments worldwide in these modern times, but Morag was the beneficiary of some good old-fashioned nepotism.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, she and her sister are members of a rather elite group of old-time Warlock families. The Devlin’s are one of six just such families, and we’ve, throughout the ages, always stuck to one another for support,” Shields explained, oblivious to my kitty creepers in the background. “These prestigious families lost almost everything in the Warlock Wars. While they had previously prospered via a frankly archaic feudal system, they had to turn to an actual profession in order to survive. They wisely chose the way of the lawyer.”

  “And, I’ve no doubt you’ve benefitted immensely from these ‘lawyers’ council, right?” I asked.

  “We ALL have, Ms. Jenkins,” Shields’ smiled warmly, but I could almost taste the venom in his words. “As I said, we families have stuck together. We lost so much in the wars, that it was, ah …. ‘prudent’ for us to help one another up the ladder, as it were. We kept relations tighter still, by training as lawyers and by entering Cathedral politics.” Shields tented his fingers on the desk. “And, I think, as you’ll probably agree yourselves, that we have done, and ARE doing an upstanding job.”

  David and I stared at the governor.

  “I’m still unclear as to how these families turning to the legal profession ties in with this office,” David said, pointing his pen at Shields.

  “Well, as you know, we don’t have a council at this level of government here,” Shields said. “Unofficially, the families serve as that council to the sitting governor. There have been instances in which some of my desires … I mean, decisions, have been overruled by their disapproval too, so you can see that this is a balanced, impartial cabinet.” Another obscene smirk.

  “Which decisions?” David said.

  Shields laughed. It sounded like jagged metal slicing through soft flesh. “I don’t kiss and tell, Chief Para Inspector. Suffice to say that these instances, while rare, have happened to me and more than a few of my predecessors.”

  Kitty claws pricked at my ankle. On the pretext of stretching, I looked down to see Midnight looking up at me from under the governor of Cathedral’s desk. He shook his head at me and mouthed ‘nothing.’ I gave my kitty a barely perceptible nod, and he withdrew his furry face to disappear back under the desk. Only he got his head stuck. At a weird sideward angle. I saw another pair of paws shoot out and wrap around Midnight’s forehead. The helping paws pulled, but Middie’s head remained ensnared, which was making his left cheek smush up in a furry bunch big enough to make his left eye close. I leaned back in my chair and stretched my leg out in front of me, nudging Midnight’s head with my toe. His head popped back through, making my leg surge forward and causing me to lurch in my chair.

  “Everything okay, Ms. Jenkins,” Gideon eyed me suspiciously. I swatted at my leg, my head wildly swiveling around the room pretending to look for a pesky mosquito. Shields' lips trembled in an uncertain smile.

  David asked, “So what is the official capacity of these families?”

  Gideon’s head shot back round to the chief. “They are a small legal firm with exactly one client: the government of Cathedral,” Shields explained. “Ms. Devlin was handling our various legal actions as they related to the Rock Grumlin population.”

  I felt my jaw clench. I had met those poor creatures in the bowels of the Glimmer Mountains, not ten minutes flight time from here. Despite their Freddy Krueger manicu
res and shy desire to hide in the shadows, they were some of the gentlest souls I had ever run across. Remembering their exploitation at the hands of this piece of political garbage made me wonder, not for the first time, if my first unfavorable impression of Morag was the right one after all.

  “And what of the other five families?” David asked. “What are their areas of expertise?”

  Shields hummed and shook his head. “Oh, how I wish I could help you answer that, CPI Trew. Regrettably, that gets into certain sensitive matters that I am not at liberty to speak of. I can tell you that the late Ms. Devlin’s duties will be spread out among the rest of the firm according to their ability.”

  Then, acting like a thought had just hit him, Gideon leaned his head to the left. That gave me an excuse to look at the shadows along the wall. I saw the outline of Shade creeping along the edges with something white in his mouth.

  “I’d suggest talking to Barnabus Kramp for further details,” Shields said. “He just so happens to be in today, which, trust me, is a rare occurrence. He’d have a better idea on what can and cannot be made public knowledge.”

  “There’s just one other thing I was curious about,” I said, putting my hand to my chin. “You and Mr. Kramp are very close friends, aren’t you?”

  Shields squinted at me. “Have been since we were six, yes.”

  “I understand that the two of you used to date the Dreddock sisters?”

  Shields’ eyes widened with a barely restrained look of hostility. “What about it?”

  I’d hit a sore spot. I decided to keep pushing. “Just that I’d heard that you wound up dating none other than Nebula Dreddock herself. What was that like?”

  “That was so long ago, I can barely remember it,” he answered, his flat tone telling me how little he appreciated the question.

  “As much as I would like to help the both of you, I’m afraid our time is up. I’ll phone Barnabus and let him know that you’re on your way, if that works for you?”

  “Perfectly,” David said, rising from his seat and putting away his pen and notepad in the same motion. “Thank you for your time.”