This relieved me. While I technically knew how to reset her core now, I didn’t have the magical strength to do it. I might well injure both of us even in the attempt. Bless Seaton for keeping her health a priority.
“What?” she asked. Of course she’d caught my study of her.
“I wondered how you fared. You’ve been jumping about just as much as I have of late.”
“True. Life got a bit crazy there, and it doesn’t seem interested in letting up anytime soon.” She re-arranged the Felix sprawled over her lap with such ease it was clear she was accustomed to moving him about. Clint rolled where she dictated with a purr, not stirring himself to any effort. “You look more tired than I am, honestly. You changed suits?”
“The other needs a good ironing and a trip to the laundry. Although I now wonder if I shouldn’t have packed an overnight bag. We’ll need to go into Bristol, after all, and I doubt another train is running at this hour to bring us back.”
“Oh, snap,” Jamie said, body jerking upright. “I didn’t think of that. Urgghhh my brain’s too tired for this crap. Couldn’t they have stolen something tomorrow?”
I snorted a laugh, which came out a touch black. I wasn’t actually feeling humorous. “My sentiments exactly.”
“We’re going to be up all night, aren’t we.” It was clearly a rhetorical question, judging by the way she slumped sideways on the bench.
“I truly hope not. But my pessimism prophesies otherwise.”
“What a coincidence. So does mine.”
We grimaced at each other. The saying goes that misery likes company. I rather felt that if I must be miserable, I’d prefer her company over anyone else. Oh dear, that sounded maudlin.
The taxi pulled up to the station. It was nearly seven now, and the area wasn’t nearly as crowded as before. Most had either arrived at their destination or were on the last evening trains to their destination. I did wonder where our crime scene was and how we’d get to it.
The young Kingsman I’d met earlier greeted us at the front station door. Foster waved to us as we alighted from the carriage, then stepped forward to pay the driver.
“Come directly with me,” Foster instructed, already heading inside the station. “They’ve got the night train waiting on us.”
I caught up with his long legs, stretching my gait unnaturally to do so. Of course Jamie had no issue with it. “I thought the night trains were only for cargo?”
“Typically, you’re correct, Doctor. They attached a passenger car for us. The railroad companies are going the extra mile to help us solve the case.” Foster shot me a grin, revealing sharp canine teeth. “For obvious reasons. Through here.”
The station was relatively quiet, only one train on the tracks, with steam leaking out of the smokestack of the engine. They were ready to go, alright. The passenger car was on the tail end, obviously a last-minute addition, and Gibson stood near the steps, waving us forward impatiently.
I ended up jogging the rest of the distance, praying something hot and strong featured in my near future. Alas, this train had no dining car, so that didn’t look feasible.
We boarded without a word to each other, Gibson calling out to the conductor, “All aboard!”
The conductor waved to him, then lifted a whistle to his mouth, signaling the engineer. I heard it all play out through the windows as I found a likely bench seat and more or less fell into it. In the nick of time, too, as the train started moving a moment later. Jamie slid in next to me, Foster and Gibson sitting opposite. Clint was too busy exploring to do something so mundane as sit still.
“Alright, Gibs, shoot,” Jamie invited wearily. “How much, where, when, how?”
“I wish I knew who as well.” Gibson looked just as exhausted as the rest of us. He was half-slumped, his hands dangling over his knees. “I only know as much as the original report. It was the same as before. No one noticed anything odd until the train arrived in Bristol. The theft was discovered once they opened the crates at the station. This time it was around two-hundred-forty thousand stolen. Not quite as big of a payout.”
“They stole a collective five-hundred-fifty thousand in under three weeks,” I deadpanned. “I feel no pity for them not achieving the same goal this time.”
Gibson grunted sourly. “Me neither. Anyway, what is different is that we’re dealing with another train line. Bristol Oceanic is the railroad company stolen from this time.”
I double-checked with the query, “Wasn’t it Kingston Metropolitan the first time?”
“Correct,” Gibson confirmed, slumping a bit more in the seat. “Also a different gold company: Kingold. They’re already putting together a timeline for us.”
I personally was of the opinion that if a different company’s gold had been stolen, that put to rest any doubt the shipping clerks at Gold Limited had anything to do with the first theft.
Gibson sighed, showing his weariness for a moment. “Alright, you now know everything I do. Local police have shut the area down and are keeping everyone still until they can do a proper search. I’ve asked them to do a pat-down of everyone and get names. If they don’t see anything suspicious, they’re allowed to let people leave.”
It saved us the effort of going through two hundred interviews, which I appreciated. I doubted the job would be done by the time we arrived, however.
“There’s probably a million fingerprints inside the train car,” Jamie muttered glumly.
“Yes, quite likely,” I concurred, giving her a sympathetic pat on the knee. “We’ll collect as many as we can and tackle it later. I hope, however, we can collect trace evidence. Gibson, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Seaton and I had something of a break-through last case. We were able to take a suspect’s trace saliva on a cigarette and track him. The spell can be used for skin, hair, nails, or any bodily fluid.”
For the first time since boarding, Gibson lifted his head with interest. “Is that right? Alright, we’ll try that. There’s still likely random hairs and such that will be mixed in with the thieves’ leavings.”
“Yes, I’m aware. But hopefully if we systematically go through them all, we’ll be able to catch a break.” I splayed my hands in a shrug. “Police work is often about eliminating possibilities.”
“That’s quite true. Alright, I’ll leave that up to you.”
I looked to the feline who jumped onto the bench next to me. “Clint, I expect your aid on that. Your nose can find things we might overlook.”
Clint stopped grooming his ear to give me a serious nod. “Okay.”
“Actually, Foster…” Jamie canted her head. “I bet your nose is good for that kind of investigative work, too.”
“My sniffer’s pretty keen, Detective,” he said politely. “I’d be interested in helping. It’s a good learning experience for me.”
“Then please do,” I invited him.
With so few people on board—we were essentially the only ones except a guard and another man at the front—everyone stretched out. Clint started singing something about going off the rails on a crazy train, not a song I recognized at all.
Pointing to him, I inquired, “You have trains on Earth?”
Jamie gave me an odd look. “Of course we do.”
“But not in current use, correct? If you can fly through the skies, why would you still use trains?”
She made that bzzzt sound she did when I gave a wrong answer. “Trains are still very much in use. Mostly for cargo, but passengers still use them too. Flying’s fast but a little expensive. If you want to go a short distance, say from one town to another like we’re doing now, then trains and subways are still a very good option.”
“Subways?”
“Trains underground,” she explained. “People discovered that train tracks and stations take up a lot of room, so they started digging out tunnels to put them underground instead. Save the surface area for things like buildings and parks.”
“That seems a great deal of effort, building unde
rground.”
“Yeah. But that’s how valuable real estate can be.” Jamie shrugged, as if this was understandable.
It rather was, as I’d seen real estate’s value double in the past year alone. “Is that why you’re so comfortable with trains? I’d assumed it was because you’d ridden them here before this case.”
“Well, and I had, but I took the subway all the time on Earth to get to work and back.”
For as many conversations as we’d had, there was still so much I didn’t know about her. “I thought you traveled all over your country?”
“Yup, did that too. But the first bit, say about a year after I joined the FBI, I was near main headquarters. I didn’t get out into the field until later.” In a nostalgic tone, she leaned back into the bench, her eyes going out to the window. “And I was in the same city for school, too. I left home at eighteen and basically didn’t go back except for Christmas and the occasional quick weekend.”
I didn’t ask if she regretted it. The emotion was written all over her face. But then, we often regretted the things we didn’t do more than the ones we did. If she’d known, if she’d possessed any inkling she’d be yanked into this world with no option of returning, I’m sure there were many things she’d do differently.
We didn’t speak much beyond that. In fact, we napped as much as we could, anticipating a very long night. To that end, I awoke as we pulled into the station feeling not in the slightest refreshed. Taking a nap was like playing roulette—I’d either come out of it feeling energized or like roadkill. My gamble this time had not paid off. Then again, with such a short trip, I’d only managed about twenty minutes.
I tried to keep my craggy temper in check as I descended the train. My colleagues didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of it.
The train yard was a cacophony of unhappy, tired people. I panned the area with a simple turn of the head and winced in anticipation. People were sitting or lying flat on their backs, their heads cushioned with coats or bags. Toddlers lay limp in their parents’ laps or screamed their heads off. A few ignored their surroundings, choosing to bury their nose in a book to help pass the time. Others lifted their voices and fists in the air, demanding to be released. I glimpsed three policemen—wait, I retract that statement. Two policemen and one policewoman. Smart of them to have a female officer on hand to search the ladies.
I extended a hand to Jamie, giving her a hand off the train. It was a bit of a drop on the last step. She took it with a grateful smile that turned into a grimace as she caught sight of the station.
“Oh, that’s not going to be fun,” she muttered.
“Indeed not. The female officer, are you acquainted with her?”
Jamie squinted her eyes in the mellow lighting of the lamp posts and then brightened. “Yeah, that’s Charlie. Charlotte Howell. I’ve done two seminars with her. She’s good people.”
“Excellent, I hoped that was the case.” Jamie routinely held seminars and training camps with the female officers in Kingston, and I knew the outlying cities often shipped their officers in to have her train them. “Let’s attend to the crime scene first.”
“I’ll help Charlie sort through the people afterward,” Jamie agreed, in perfect accord.
Gibson had gone ahead for a moment, conferring with the yard supervisor, then came back to us with a ground-eating stride. “Everyone, this is Supervisor Wilson. He’ll show us the car in question.”
Wilson ducked his head in greeting, narrow face sour and pinched. I suspected him to have poor health. His pale skin had a distinctly sallow cast to it even in this poor lighting, and his uniform hung on his shoulders. “This way, gentlemen, ma’am.”
We followed, and not for any long distance. The train in question still sat on the tracks along the station’s platform, and we boarded the last car. I noted that someone had hung an extra lantern to provide more illumination, which I appreciated. I barely had a foot inside when I realized our plans to pick up trace evidence had been neatly foiled.
“Uh, Doctor?” Foster turned in place, his black nose twitching, whiskers bristling. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think a cleaning charm was used. I can’t even smell any dust in here.”
“You are not wrong,” I confirmed for him darkly. “A charm or hex was indeed used. Curse their foul hides.”
The train car was spotless. The bags were still in place, their tags hanging from the handles, but there wasn’t even the faintest trace of smoke evident in the car. I stepped quickly through, my eyes looking for any trace of wall, somewhere a charm or hex could be attached. I found a silencing charm, like last time, and—ah. There it was. The remains of a cleaning charm fading even now from view. They’d taken the paper with them, of course, but the trace of magic remained.
Someone leaned over my back, and I knew immediately who. I directed my words to her without turning my head, “Cleaning charm. I can see the traces of its magic. It’s too faint for me to be sure of the maker, but it looks of a garden variety. Rot their souls.”
“They likely did it because it’s easier to pack a cleaning charm than brooms and dusters,” Jamie observed, sounding just as irate. “Clint, check the locks for us.”
The Felix bounded immediately off, heading for the vaults dominating the far wall.
“I see the silencing charm, but like last time, I’m not seeing any traces of spells.” Gibson grunted and thumped as he moved past us. “Same on the vaults. No spellwork I can detect. How is it, Clint, any sign of Raskovnik?”
Clint dropped down from sniffing and reported, “No.”
“Now that’s interesting,” Jamie observed. “So, they didn’t need it this time? Or they just didn’t have it available?”
Foster also had his nose to the locks, and he observed each one in turn very carefully. “I don’t see any signs a lockpick was used here. I know they’ve got magical protections on each lock to prevent it from being picked, but a skilled enough thief can get around those.”
That sounded like experience to me. “Indeed, you’re correct. Not that there’s many thieves who can pull that off. This might be a rich enough prize to draw their attention, however. I suppose I shouldn’t make assumptions in this case.”
“Either way, no sense for us all to be bundled up in here. Foster, go out and start searching the area. We’re looking for a tool bag that’s been dropped or hidden nearby. The theft was discovered ten minutes after the train pulled in, which isn’t much time. They had to put it somewhere nearby.”
Foster nodded and bounded out the door.
“Clint, help him,” Jamie directed. “Go in the opposite direction and search wide.”
Clint looked delighted at this order even as he also bounded out the door.
“I don’t think there’s any answers to be had here,” Jamie observed, already turning for the door. “Let’s go look at the substitute crates, see if there’s something to be had from there.”
Thieves normally improve their skills with each job they completed. I doubted they’d make a mistake this time when they’d been so careful on the first one. But I knew better than to say so. That truly would jinx us.
“Charlie!” I hailed.
The woman in question turned and brightened instantly—and not just in the usual sense. Part woodland fairy, Charlie had interesting biological reactions. She could light up like a firefly or go pitch dark and camouflage into her surroundings like a lizard. It had been very, very interesting training her. Normally she looked perfectly put together, green hair pulled back into a severe braid, navy blue uniform pressed just so, but tonight she was definitely frazzled.
She didn’t reach out and hug me, although with the way she vibrated in place, that option was still open. “Jamie, what are you doing here?”
“I’m a Kingsmen consultant,” I informed her. “Recent thing. They pull me in for cases like this, where it’s more investigation than political hamming. Read me in.”
She nodded, pulling me a little aside from where everyone
was sitting, and lowered her voice for good measure. “No one realized anything was off until they got the boxes into the station office and undid the metal bands. The boxes were filled with lead shot instead of gold coins. I was on duty nearby, so they grabbed me first, and then I locked the area down. Whether I was fast enough in doing that, I do not know. It was just me and my partner, and it took ten minutes for our backup to arrive.”
I nodded understanding. Even if she had been able to call this in with a phone, it took people time to get somewhere else. “Okay. Anything else odd to you?”
“The whole thing’s odd to me.” She splayed her hands in an open shrug. “The vaults were locked, there wasn’t any sign of forced entry, and not even a single fingerprint except for the guard’s. I checked that first thing.”
“Bless you. I’d hoped to dust for prints, but after seeing they used a cleaning charm….”
“Yeah. The guard I discount, though. He opened the doors back up for us and he’s supposed to be in there.”
“Sure, sure.” It was nice all those lectures had stuck. Charlie had applied what I’d taught. It wasn’t her fault there was no payout for that on this case. “For the record, what’s the guard’s name?”
“Innis.”
So, one of our suspects. Int-er-esting. “What else?”
“I didn’t take a thorough look,” Charlie admitted frankly. “I knew it would be a Kingsmen case. My priority was locking the place down.”
“Fair enough. We’re searching the area for their tools. I know for a fact they had some very select tools to pull this off. You’re looking for anyone carrying a lot of weight on them, and has wax, a seal, pliers, or anything else you can think of to carry this off.”
She nodded, frown deepening the furrow between her eyes. “We’ll keep a sharp lookout. Most of these people have nothing like that on them.”
“And they’re free to go. Just double check their name to the passenger list.”
“That we’ve been doing.”
“I’ll come back and help once I get a good look at the area,” I promised.
Breaking and Entering 101 (The Case Files of Henri Davenforth Book 4) Page 14
