Three Charms for Murder (The Case Files of Henri Davenforth Book 5)

by Honor Raconteur

  “Just as well the Atwoods pulled us in,” I noted. “And in time, too. A lot of evidence has probably been erased already, but hopefully not everything.” I’d kill for a single picture of the crime scene, but they hadn’t even taken that.

  Penny leaned forward and asked, “Mr. Drummond? By chance do you know what became of Mrs. Atwood’s purse?”

  I turned around sharply to look at her. Cripes, but I’d missed that entirely. Strange that it hadn’t been stored with her body or set aside somewhere in the morgue now that I thought about it.

  Turning so he could see her, he answered with a shake of the head, “I don’t think the police found it when they came to investigate. They didn’t seem to think much of it, either. I’ve no idea where it’s gone. Is that important?”

  I met Penny’s eyes and knew we were thinking the same thing. “It might be.”

  “Because if the murderer took it, it’s a clue for us,” Penny explained to him. “I assume it was an expensive handbag? Do you know what she normally kept in it?”

  “She’d certainly have her wallet inside, a compact, a handkerchief, and a bottle of stomach medicine. She had a very nervous stomach.” Drummond frowned, thinking hard. “I feel Miss Erin might have a better idea of what was in her purse that day, but generally speaking, Mrs. Atwood carried a healthy quantity of cash upon her person. She liked to shop and hated being short if something caught her eye. She didn’t like checks, for some reason, and rarely used them. She was also in the habit of taking off her earrings midday and slipping them into her purse. She said her ears ached after a while.”

  Jewelry. Crap, that was something else I hadn’t seen on her. “I didn’t see any jewelry on her. What did she normally wear?”

  “Two rings, a bracelet, and a necklace. She was fond of layering necklaces, often two or three at a time. The pearls especially she wore daily. They were a courting gift from Mr. Atwood, and she treasured them.” Drummond now looked perturbed. “You didn’t see any of those?”

  “We didn’t know to look for them.” Henri put a soothing hand on the man’s shoulder. “It could be they were taken off for safekeeping or slipped into their pockets. I’ll look for them properly when my colleague gets in and we start the autopsies. For now, they’re under a ward, so no one can molest them.”

  Drummond relaxed but only a touch. “Thank you, sir. I’m sure Ms. Gwyneth and Mrs. Ruthe would very much like to have their mother’s jewelry.”

  “We’ll look for it, I promise you. For now, can we go to the house? I want to secure the scene.”

  “Yes, of course.” Drummond started up the car, the big motor rumbling to life, then carefully pulled out.

  I focused on the little faces staring up at me. “How is it? You have the scents?”

  “Have them,” Clint assured me confidently. His head cocked. “Why?”

  “When we get to the house, I want you to explore, see if you can find signs of a fight. It will help us figure out the scene.”

  Clint nodded, understanding. “Okay. That and sniffies?”

  “Yup, sniffies too. Not just the house, but outside. We need to figure out who got inside the ward and how.”

  “I’m very curious on that point,” Henri admitted. He sounded like he was thinking in about three directions at once, the gears grinding away. “Are the thieves finding and exploiting some weakness in the ward?”

  “They must be, sir,” Gerring pitched in from the very back seat. “How else are all these burglaries taking place?”

  “I admit that’s part of why I ask. But as far as I’m aware, wards don’t have an inherent weakness. Well, they are slightly weaker during a new moon, as they derive their power partially from moonlight, but not enough so that they fail to function properly. Wards are meant to keep out people with nefarious purposes. The case of the palace break-ins aside, this case doesn’t match the right criteria.”

  I stayed half-turned in the seat, my arm over the back so I could converse with everyone more easily. “Because whoever is coming in is stealing, so the wards should react. That’s what you mean.”

  “Quite so. I admit, no answer to the quandary leaps to mind. If you don’t mind, while you focus on the interior of the house, I want to focus on the ward itself.”

  “Knock yourself out,” I encouraged. “We need an answer to that as much as anything else. Someone got in somehow, and I’d dearly love to know how.”

  “Not as much as I do.”

  It occurred to me that normally when this kind of magical conundrum came our way, Sherard was there to help Henri figure it out. We hadn’t brought him on this case, as there wasn’t any need for it, but I felt sure Sherard would sport an epic pout when he heard about it later. He loved a good challenge and working with Henri.

  We rode on through the little town. It really wasn’t large, the main streets all petering out after about five crossroads. Then we hit countryside, and the houses changed from cute and quaint to very elaborate affairs with multiple stories, extra wings, and expansive grounds. I imagined the Davenforths would likely have a country house like this somewhere. It was a little mind-boggling in a way. My sweet-natured partner didn’t exude any arrogance or wealth.

  Ten minutes or so later, Drummond turned into the drive. With a car full of policemen, he didn’t have to stop and do the song and dance necessary to get us through the ward. But that did spark another question. “Mr. Drummond, Gwyneth mentioned the reporters beat her here. How did they get onto the grounds?”

  “I believe they snuck in with the coroner.” Drummond slowed the pace of the car, taking the subtle turns of the driveway. Massive trees lined either side, just beginning to bud as they shed winter’s dormant chill. I’d bet it was a shady, beautiful stretch during high summer. “It was very ill-done of him to allow them in. The reporters heckled Ms. Gwyneth in a terrible fashion.”

  Most wards were set like that. Police badges and firemen badges carried a marker wards could identify, allowing them access. It operated something like the tattoo on the palace guard’s necks, although it was a far simpler design. Henri had explained it once to me, although the magic had mostly gone over my head. I thought of the badges as something like a skeleton key that could allow access to most wards. Just not the insanely complicated wards, like the one over the palace. It was why any first responder was fined so heavily if they lost their badge. It could cause a lot of trouble if that happened. But alright, that did explain a few things I’d wondered.

  The house came into view and I stared around, eyes a little wide. Well. This was bigger than I’d anticipated. Though only two stories, except for the main entryway with a domed roof, the house kept going and going, spreading out in every direction. Cute little turret windows popped out here and there, and something that looked suspiciously like a short tower rose up on the end-caps. The gardens around the house were a little barren at this stage of the year, but meticulously kept nonetheless.

  Drummond drove around the fountain in the center of the circular driveway, pulling to a stop at the front door.

  I tucked my coat around me as I stepped out. The chill here came from the snow still on the ground and the sun mostly hidden by clouds. I didn’t want the kittens out in this for long. They didn’t have enough body weight to retain heat. Clint hunched with both kittens tucked in against his tummy, acting as a body warmer. He was such a cute big brother, I just wanted to pinch his cheeks for it.

  Gerring was more immune to the cold than anyone else, so I asked him, “Will you sweep the grounds? Start in on it, anyway. We’ll help you if we finish first.”

  “Absolutely.” Gerring went to the boot to get what he needed from his bag. I’d need to do the same in a minute, but I wanted to walk the house first.

  Henri bundled up his coat. “I’ll be walking the perimeter of the ward.”

  We all split up, Penny, Drummond, and I heading inside with the cats. I sat them down immediately upon entering the main foyer and turned them loose to start their walk-n-s
niff. I think the kittens were a little too excited to finally be working. Their tails kept flicking happily.

  “Mr. Drummond, if you can give us a tour first so we can get the lay of the land?” I requested.

  “Certainly, follow me. You’re in the main foyer, but this is one of three entrances into the house. Four if you include the servant’s entrance, which is off the kitchen.” He walked steadily through, pointing out a billiards room, multiple living rooms, bedrooms, bathrooms, two kitchens, conservatories, studies, two libraries (one with a secret door), a music room, etc.

  Honestly? I felt like I was in the game Clue. Only I didn’t have a pile of handy suspects to choose from. Or weapons. Or anything actually helpful.

  Drummond came to a stop at the exterior door and gave it a perturbed look. “This is where they were found. It’s the pool area.”

  “I will completely understand if you don’t want to go in there,” I told him gently.

  “If you don’t mind, Detective. I’m…not sure if I can stomach standing there again. The chairs they were bound to are still in place. They were facing outward, toward the gardens.”

  “Thank you.” I wanted to hug him so bad. He needed hugs. But that wouldn’t be professional, and I wasn’t sure how he’d take it.

  I stepped past him instead, Penny and cats on my heels. The humidity slapped me in the face. With an indoor pool like this, that was to be expected. I smelled salt and heat and assumed this was a heated saltwater pool. It was certainly large; perfect party size.

  The chairs did indeed face outward, across the pool toward the windows, sitting in the middle of the walkway with plenty of space on all sides. No ropes were in evidence, and if you didn’t know the story, it would look quite innocent for them to be there.

  I didn’t have to say a word before the cats pounced on the chairs, noses going a mile a minute. I pulled out my magical spectacles, sliding them onto my nose. Magic, yes. The glasses told me that much. They weren’t sensitive enough to tell me anything else, although it looked like a contained sort of presence. Not magic wildly splashed about, like in some of my cases.

  “Lots of sniffies?” I guessed wryly.

  Clint spared me a glance. “Lots.”

  “You gotta narrow this down for me, kiddo.”

  “Three magic sniffies.” Tasha abruptly sat down, staring at the chairs as if they’d offended her somehow. Seriously, I’d seen kinder eyes on hardened criminals. “Don’t know spells.”

  “That’s okay. Your job is to detect them. Henri tells me what they are.” I slipped the glasses back into my pocket.

  That eased up the glare by a few notches.

  “People sniffies.” Clint backed off and gave an all-mighty sneeze, then another.

  “Gesundsplat.” I looked him over in concern. “You okay?”

  “Cleaning spell,” he answered, face scrunched up like he was going to sneeze again.

  “Oh yeah, you don’t react well to those. Well, we know a cleaning spell was used here. Probably the other two, but I’ll let Henri double-check that. I want to take a better look at this unlocked door. I was told it was this one, leading in from the outside.”

  Penny and the cats followed me over, and we carefully examined the door from one side. Then I opened it and examined the other. Looked like your average door to me, a little weather-beaten on the outside, maybe, due to constant sun exposure. Definitely no sign of forced entry. I couldn’t even see scratches on the keyhole.

  A little paw tapped me on the leg. “Jamie, Jamie.”

  I bent down toward Phil. “Yeah, bud?”

  “People sniffy this way.” He bounded off, nose to the ground as he headed straight through the garden.

  I followed him, interested in where he’d lead me. Phil kept going, out past the trimmed hedges and along the stone sidewalk, wrapping around the house and to the side entrance. I assumed from the angle that this was near the kitchen. We saw quite a few oven smokestacks and more wear and tear around the door. He stopped there and frowned at the cement.

  “Sniffy stops here.”

  “What else do you smell here, though?”

  He thought about it. “Gas. Car.”

  “So maybe this human got into a car and drove off?”

  “Maybe.” He let out a delicate little shiver.

  I bent down, scooping him up and tucking him into my coat. “Good work. That tells me either the murderer left this way, or we have a possible witness. Probably the murderer, so you keep that smell in mind, okay?”

  “Okay.” He looked up seriously, those eyes like new gold in the bright light of day. “Like Henri.”

  “Yeah, I caught that.” It was impossible to mistake with the way he acted. “Would you like to go work with Henri now?”

  “Yes.”

  Children had no qualms in telling you who was their favorite. Even small Felixes. “Do you know where he went?” All Henri had told me was he wanted to check on the wards. He could be anywhere on the property by now.

  Phil turned his head like he was a homing pigeon in a previous incarnation and said with authority, “That way.”

  Well, clearly he had kept track of Henri fine. I sat him down and stayed crouched. “It’s cold out here, though, you sure?”

  “Henri keep warm.”

  Clearly, he had an agenda. I shrugged, letting him have a little freedom. “Okay.”

  Phil darted off, tail high in the air, his little legs pumping as he ran for my partner.

  I looked around my cat-less self and observed to the world in general, “I think I was just jilted.”

  This was puzzling. From what I could see of the wards, they were indeed correctly set up and functioning properly. I turned them off and on to make sure of this, testing several times, and if I removed my police badge, it would not let me through. With the badge on, I walked in fine.

  I had a sneaking suspicion the reason why the police in Deems weren’t looking too carefully for the thief was because someone had been careless and lost their badge. The thief was capitalizing on it—and everyone knew it—but catching him would mean revealing their mistake. So, naturally, they compounded the problem by ignoring it. Children had the same mentality in covering their errors.

  I sighed, and in the depths of the trees as I was, it was cold enough here to turn my breath to white fog. Apparently, I would need to report the burglary problem as well. And keep a sharp eye out if I could and help solve this recurring problem.

  From the direction of the house came a skittering sound of something small running my direction. I looked for it, a little alarmed. I didn’t want to be jumped by a rabid squirrel, but it was Phil. He slowed as he approached, then came to a stop at my foot, not even breathing hard after his mad sprint.

  “Phil, is something amiss?” I asked, worried he’d come to fetch me.

  “No,” he told me. “Sniffies?”

  Oh. Oh, he’d come to assist me. “Yes, please do. I have the ward up, try not to cross over it without alerting me. If you’re not in close proximity to me, you’ll be thrown back.”

  “Okay.” He put his nose to the ground, tail in the air, and went hunting for smells.

  I walked alongside him, curious what he would detect. I had used a few seeking spells, naturally, but those were general in the extreme. Sometimes, a smell was so faint my seeking spell wouldn’t pick up on it without a focus. The Felix nose was far superior and sometimes picked up on things I missed.

  So, we walked and sniffed. As we walked, I inquired, “Did you find sniffies at the house?”

  “Lots of sniffies,” he answered, still scenting the air. “Three magic sniffies.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Clint said one was cleaning spell.”

  “He’s likely correct. He sneezes when he detects that one.”

  We kept walking. It was companionable, really. Clint rarely spent peaceful time with me, as he was the sort to like attention. Phil didn’t need to fill the air with chatter. I did worry abou
t him out in the cold because he was so little. I’d give him another five minutes out here before calling it quits and heading back in. I doubted there was anything out here of interest. The wards held my interest most, and they only extended to the edge of the property line.

  I heard another crunch of running steps, this one sounding heavier. I turned to find Jamie loping towards us, a slight blush to her cheeks because of the chill but no discernible drain on her otherwise for having run that distance. I envied her athletic prowess.

  One can envy athletic prowess and have no desire to put in the effort necessary to attain it, you know.

  She came in carefully, avoiding squashing a kitten, and wasn’t that a curious word? How did one acquire kitten from cat? The two words had only one letter in common. Jamie’s native language was a very odd one. I’d ask, but I doubted she knew the etymology.

  Looking down at Phil, she asked, “Any sniffies yet?”

  “Not yet.” Phil didn’t even glance up at her.

  Jamie turned to me with a query on her face, so I answered it. “The wards are fine. Functioning as they should. I have the sneaking suspicion someone in the Deems PD has been careless and lost a badge, a thief picked it up, and is using it to gain access to the wards.”

  “It’s possible. I certainly can’t think of anything else. I’d like to talk to the Jordane housekeeper next, I think, see what she knows.” She regarded me for a moment, her golden-brown eyes warm with concern. “How are you faring, Henri?”

  I knew what she meant and sighed, feeling my soul ache. “We were so busy with the logistics of acquiring jurisdiction and getting here, I don’t think the emotions set in. Not until we were at the morgue and I saw their bodies for myself.”

  “I could tell it disturbed you.”

  “On many levels. The last time I saw Mrs. Atwood, she was chivvying us for staying out in the snow too long. Said we were barely better than children. Irvine and I had just started university, you see. We were actually old enough to know better and were half-frozen. She wrapped us up in blankets, made hot chocolate for us with her own hands. I—” I broke off as my throat constricted, tears burning in my eyes. “I cannot imagine why anyone would want to kill such a kind woman. She did her level best to make this world a better place than how she found it. Mr. Atwood was the same. I know he had a bad habit of suing people in court, but he was a very generous man in every other way.”