Breaking and Entering 101 (The Case Files of Henri Davenforth Book 4)

by Honor Raconteur

“It also has the added benefit of telling us if we missed anyone,” Jamie threw in happily. “If we still have fingerprints we can’t match, then there’s one loose.”

  It was the benefit of the system and part of the reason why I always supported searching for the prints. “If you were busy lifting prints, I don’t suppose you followed up on any lead on the Raskovnik?”

  Gibson settled back to his meal now that Clint was settled. “We confirmed there was a shipment from Bristol in the right time frame. So, someone could have snipped a sprig from it. My money is on it, at least.”

  While that was interesting, it didn’t really further us along. I looked about the table, meeting each of their eyes for a brief moment. “So, are we all in agreement? At least one of the members is an employee of the station?”

  “Yes,” Jamie said firmly. “Has to be. No other way around it. And I think it’s either a guard or a clerk—probably a guard, considering which keys they had access to. We’ve got how many guards on the list of possible suspects?”

  “Four,” Foster supplied readily. “But that number’s bound to change now that we have a whole other line to investigate. We’ll have to compare lists and see. I’ve got one suspicion already, but I want to confirm who else overlaps before we move.”

  Jamie stared at him with dawning horror. “We’ll have to compare lists with THIS line too. Heaven preserve me.”

  “Sadly, we can’t assume that just because we find the right guard to question, he’ll give up all his associates too.” I patted her on the shoulder, fully sympathizing. “And we need to have multiple angles to approach this from.”

  Her head dropped on my shoulder as she gave a muffled cry. “Someone shoot me now.”

  “Absolutely not,” I said tartly, although I couldn’t stop a smile. “That means I’ll have to do your work and mine. Eat your dinner. We have lists awaiting us.”

  “And to think I used to like you.” She straightened up, glared, but went back to eating.

  “Help too?” Clint offered from the opposite side of the table.

  “I now understand why the Japanese have that idiom of ‘busy enough to take a cat’s paw,’” Jamie sighed. “Yes, Clint. Please do help.”

  We’d certainly take all the help we could get.

  We broke for the weekend without any other breakthroughs or heists and, personally, I was glad for it. I had laundry and errands to run, and we all needed a mental break from the case. Or so I told myself, although I found myself thinking about it far too often. Oh Gods Day, I needed a distraction from the thoughts rambling in my head and some girl time. I also had an idea to run past Ellie, one that Colette would probably be invested in herself, so I organized a dinner get-together for the three of us.

  We met closer to Ellie’s neck of the woods, as it was her turn to pick a restaurant, and I had to approve of her choice. Northwoods Cuisine was all light woods and airy interiors, the lighting mellow and the scents divine. A dryad couple ran the place, according to Ellie, and they knew how to spice things.

  Settling around a table near the front window, I looked at my ginger-haired inventor friend and tried not to laugh. “You’ve got grease on your cheek again.”

  “Grease happens,” Ellie returned, not bothered by this. “Colette! Good to see you. I hoped we didn’t scare you off last week.”

  Colette made a scoffing noise that sounded like train steam going off. “You’ve got to try harder than that. I’m glad Jamie invited me out. I’ve been stuck in that lab for fourteen-hour days since I started.”

  I had wondered about that. “Henri keeps popping in and staying for several hours, so I’d hoped he’d caught you up. Or is there just that much work?”

  “There’s that much work,” Colette answered on a sigh, her eyes devouring the paper menu in her hands. “But we’re a good team, always have been, and we’re powering through it. Haven’t gotten overwhelmed yet. Got close a time or two, though.”

  “I bet.”

  Our waitress, a slim dryad with liquid black eyes and platinum-blonde hair, came to the table. “What can I get for you?”

  “Seared salmon, veggies, and can I have two orders of crab cakes?” Ellie informed me, “You’ll adore their crab cakes.”

  “You haven’t steered me wrong yet. Order of crab cakes and the clam chowder, please.”

  Colette nodded decisively. “Crab cakes and two seafood pancakes.”

  “Coming right up.” The waitress sauntered away again, her gait smoother than a human could manage. Did she actually have hips?

  Ellie reached toward me with gimme gimme hands. “Idea.”

  I informed Colette drolly, “You’ll discover she’s a very, very greedy woman. She expects the people around her to always supply her with ideas for inventions. I put up with it because she’ll cut me in on any idea she successfully sells.”

  “That and I make you things you like,” Ellie snarked, still making the hands. “Well?”

  “Part of the reason why I wanted Colette here is because I have an idea, and I think she’ll be able to contribute.” I turned to my new friend, who stared blankly back at me, as if she hadn’t the foggiest idea of what I could mean. “You said before that women are constantly coming to you for protection.”

  Colette lifted both hands in a gesture, as if she were praying for patience. “Seems like it’s a weekly thing. Only getting worse as Kingston grows.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s true of any city population. Now the thing is, in my country, they made devices so women could protect themselves. Well, really, it was self-protection for anyone who needed it, but women bought them most of the time.” Ah-ha, I had both their attentions now. “The devices required no training to use and were remarkably effective. Ellie, I’m not sure if you can make one of them, but I’m pretty sure you can make the other. The first one is a taser. It’s a handheld device,” I used my fingers to create a boxy shape in illustration, “that shoots out an electric bolt. Usually about 30,000 volts.”

  Ellie’s eyes almost popped out of her face. “Thirty thousand?”

  Colette, being no slouch in the sciences herself, spluttered, “But wouldn’t that kill a man?!”

  “No, but it’ll knock him out for a good long while. Anything higher than that gets dicey, I grant you.”

  That engineer brain of Ellie’s started turning. I could see the gears whirling in her eyes. “How many charges could this taser hold?”

  “Usually enough for one, maybe two hits. Then you had to recharge it.” I waffled my hand back and forth. “This one might be a bit outside your current technology. But the other one, I know for a fact you can make. It’s called pepper spray. It’s a small, hand-held canister with a pepper and chemical mix in it that will temporarily blind people. Burns like crazy, too, takes forever to wash out. About twenty-four hours. It’s enough to stun and deter most predators in their tracks, giving a chance for their potential victim to get away. That one’s only good for one shot as well.”

  Ellie, proving once again she was a registered genius for a reason, asked, “Aerosol delivery?”

  “Yup.” I grinned at her. “In this climbing criminal hotbed, I think you have a market for it.”

  “You want me to help her make it,” Colette said, her eyes on me. “Why me?”

  “Two reasons. One, Ellie’s okay with chemistry but it’s not really her forte. And this might be hard for her to get down to a portable size without magic involved. I figure, you have both the magical and chemical know-how to partner with her on this.”

  Ellie nodded in fervent support. “Please, Colette. Oils, gasolines, solvents, I’m good with those. But this might be just outside my comfort zone.”

  “I’ve asked her to make things before, and she had to partner with either a doctor or magician to make it work,” I added with a shrug. “She’s a genius, but still, she can’t know everything. Second reason is you have experience in these situations. You’ve been there—you know what these girls are facing. You know what t
hey need to have and what won’t work. Who better to help Ellie make it?”

  “I’ll cut you in on the proceeds, fifty/fifty,” Ellie promised, her expression already in that sparkling zone that meant she was creating the blueprints in her head even now.

  Colette still hesitated, staring at Ellie as if she wasn’t sure what she was getting into. Which was fair. She didn’t.

  “Come on, Colette,” Ellie whined. “Come play with me! I promise to only bite on request.”

  Snorting a laugh, Colette relaxed and threw out a hand. “Shake on it.”

  Ellie slapped her hand in, both of them shaking firmly. “Good girl. This will be so much fun. See why I demand ideas from Jamie? She always comes up with something I’d never have thought of and makes us all lots of money.”

  “In return, she makes me things that I miss from home,” I drawled, pleased with myself for putting these two together in a collaboration. “It’s a good deal that works for me.”

  Our food arrived, and the waitress set it all down professionally enough, but then she lingered. “Um, can I ask…? I overheard some of what you’re saying. You want to make something we can use to protect ourselves from stalkers?”

  Uh-oh. I knew that look. This girl herself was a victim of it. “We are. I’m Detective Jamie Edwards, Kingston PD. This is Ellie Warner, head of the Black Clover Artificer’s Guild, and Doctor Colette Harper, Magical Examiner with Kingston PD. Why don’t you sit and tell me who’s bothering you?”

  She seemed overwhelmed at who was at the table, but not enough to hesitate. She promptly took a chair and leaned in, whispering. “He’s not done anything, not yet, but there’s this man who keeps showing up just as we’re closing. He keeps following us home and then he stays out near the front door. Sometimes for hours. We can’t leave once we’re home—we’re afraid of what he’ll do.”

  Good call. “You tried reporting this, I take it.”

  She shrugged, and her pale skin went translucent for a second. “I don’t know his name. He’s not done anything but follow us. No one would take us seriously.”

  There were days I seriously hated the restrictions of the law. “Yeah, I had a feeling. Don’t worry, this ends tonight. I’ll stick around until closing and help catch this douche.”

  “You and me both,” Colette informed me, then smiled at the girl. “Don’t worry. We’ve got experience at this. When do you close?”

  “Another two hours,” our waitress said shyly.

  “Then I have time for dessert.” Colette winked at her, which got a smile in return.

  “Cecily!”

  “Oh.” Our waitress—Cecily—popped up. “I’ll get back to work. Request anything you like, I’ll get it for you.” With that said, she scampered back toward the kitchens.

  “I feel like the girls working here should be my first beta testers,” Ellie mused.

  “That’s really not a bad idea,” I encouraged. “We’ll definitely want to check the records on this guy when we catch him, Colette. Odds are he’s done this before. He’s probably guilty of worse than stalking, for that matter. Most of the time, the guys bold enough to stalk that openly aren’t new at this.”

  Colette nodded, her eyes on the street outside the window, as if looking for anyone suspicious. “I think we should have a word with whoever ignored her too.”

  “Oh, we will.” I’d make sure of it. Stalking wasn’t always taken seriously by policemen. I wasn’t sure why. They considered it to be a ‘lesser’ crime, and it was often hard to prove, since it was his word against hers. But it rankled because stalking was a gateway—it often led to rape and murder. If a cop would just show up, prove the girl had protection, often the stalker could either be caught or dissuaded. And really, if this guy was wanted for something else, the cop would have had a chance to catch someone at large.

  Our food arrived and we ate and talked and schemed. Our waitress found ways to linger nearby so we could pull her into the discussion sometimes, and her experience helped Ellie get a firmer grasp of the requirements for the pepper spray.

  As they closed up shop, I walked Ellie to her car (just in case), then came back around. Colette was hitting the floor with cleaning spells, chattering to the other employees as she helped clean up. I got a better look and realized Cecily was a triplet. The parents popped in and out of view, mostly in the kitchen cooking. This was a family owned operation, and the resemblance between them all showed.

  Cecily’s sister drifted up to stand next to me, wiping down the front counter. “I’m Trisha. Cecily said you’ll protect us on the way home?”

  “I’ll shadow you, actually, and hopefully catch the man stalking you. Your parents don’t walk with you?”

  Shaking her head, she explained, “They live in an apartment above stairs. We wanted our own rooms and space, so we all moved out last year into an apartment complex down the street. It’s really nice. It’s just that the road there isn’t always well lit at night.”

  “Yeah, I know the problem. They really have to find a more efficient way to light the streets. Do you know where he’s watching from before you guys leave?”

  “Not really. We’ve tried different ways of leaving the building, but he always catches up before we go more than a block.”

  Well that wasn’t helpful.

  It took several more minutes for them to be ready, and Colette and I slipped out ahead of them, waiting in the alley. It was a bit smelly, granted, but it gave us a protected way of lurking without being visible. I peered out around the corner, spotted the girls leaving, then looked carefully around the street. At this hour of the night, there wasn’t much traffic, so I had faith I’d spot the guy.

  Even with my advanced eyes, I almost overlooked him. He wore a mix-match of brown and dark-grey clothes, a match for the buildings around him, which allowed him to blend in rather well. He moved with eerie silence, his rubber soles not making much noise against the sidewalk pavement. I could see how that would unnerve whoever he was stalking.

  “Man doesn’t even move human,” Colette muttered in disgust. “What is he, a wraith?”

  “You can catch a wraith, right, Colette?”

  “You bite your tongue.”

  I chuckled and moved off. “Alright, let’s follow for a bit and make sure we have the right guy. He’s plenty creepy, but I don’t want to show our hand until we’re sure.”

  Colette fell into step with me as we followed. Both Cecily and Trisha looked back uncertainly several times, and they kept their arms linked with each other. For comfort, I assumed. The other sister marched forward, as if determined to not let fears prey on her. Or maybe she was trying not to give the game away. I let this play out a few minutes, until I had the right timing to catch Cecily’s eye. I pointed to the guy and she nodded fervently.

  This was him, eh.

  “You want to pounce on him like the last one?” Colette drawled in a knowing tone.

  “Aww, Colette, you say nice things.” I limbered my neck muscles up a bit, head tilting side to side. “On three. One, two, three!”

  I took off like a panther, eating up ground in long strides. My boots were loud and echoing in the confines of the street, and the stalker turned sharply to see what was running up behind him. When he saw me, he tried to flatten himself against the building. I swerved to match that movement, and realization dawned on his face.

  Yeah, that’s right, sucker. I’m here for you.

  Swearing, he broke and tried to run for it. Try being the operative word. I landed with both knees on his back, hands on his shoulders, and used him as a landing pad. He went down with a painful grunt and smack of the head against pavement. He was stunned enough I got cuffs on both of his wrists before he could get his scrambled brain together and get a word out.

  “I—haven’t done anything!” he gasped, fighting for breath.

  “You stalked three girls for weeks. That’s doing something.” I got off and hauled him up. The girls came rushing back to us, and this time there wa
s vindication on their faces when they looked at him. “You three need to come with me to the precinct so I can write up a witness statement for all of you.”

  “That’s just fine,” Trisha assured me, still glaring at the man.

  He wasn’t much to look at, face sort of battered—the broken nose he now had probably didn’t help. My bad. He was well-dressed, though, even if the outfit was hodgepodge. The individual pieces were nice enough, so he wasn’t a desperate soul. I reached into his jacket pocket and fished out a wallet, holding it up to the dim light coming from the street light. One look at the name, and I almost had a hissy fit right there. “Colette.”

  She leaned over my shoulder and got a good look, then double-checked his face and swore long, loud, and creatively. “Son of a fish-mongering eel!”

  The guy had the nerve to grin at her, blood mingling in with his smile. “What’s wrong, handsome lady?”

  Colette glared at him, looking sorely tempted to hex his arse. “Girls, I’m really glad you said something to us. This man’s wanted for the murder of his wife, two daughters, and is connected to the disappearance of three other girls.”

  I could see the color drain from all three of their faces. It really had been a close call on this one.

  “Can’t prove anything,” he caroled to her.

  I brought him in a little closer, so I could look him right in the eye. “I don’t know who’s in charge of investigating your case, but let me tell you something. We have a warrant for you. That means a judge thinks we have enough evidence to lock you away. You’re not walking off Scott-free.”

  He put up something of a fight as I hauled him along. “I’m only suspected!”

  “You’re very guilty of stalking tonight. Two policewomen are witnesses. That’s reason alone for me to haul your arse in. And trust me, you’re not getting out anytime soon.”

  He kept protesting, of course, but I ignored that. The nearest police box was two blocks away, and I physically lifted him inside, throwing him into the nearest counter and holding him there. The two on duty scrambled up out of their chairs, their card game laid abandoned.