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

by Honor Raconteur

  “One could argue if that’s your only vice, you’re not doing too shabby. Still, I have a bad feeling it was his penchant for court battles that won him the wrong enemy.”

  She put an arm around my shoulders, hugging me to her. I let my head rest against her shoulder, taking a moment to appreciate the comfort. We’d barely begun this case, and I’d known it would play havoc on my emotions. One could argue I had no business investigating it since I was close to the family. But who better to make sure justice had been served? And I absolutely couldn’t recluse myself. I wouldn’t leave Jamie to investigate this without me.

  Jamie spoke against my ear in a soft, comforting tone. “We’ll find who did this, Henri. It’s a cold sort of comfort to offer those who will miss them, but it’s the best we can offer.”

  “I’m of the opinion that a slice of justice is best served in this case. I certainly want answers.” It was another of those moments I wished to indulge in. If I could wrap myself around her, spend hours just quietly in her company, I’d be far happier for it. Just the idea of it brought a fluttery feeling to my chest.

  Alas, reality was never that kind to my fancies. I lingered for one more moment before straightening. Kissing her temple, I murmured, “Thank you, my dear. I’m alright. Well, as alright as can be reasonably expected. Let’s go and see what the other two have discovered.”

  “I need you to tell me what spells were used, too.”

  “Of course. We likely already know, but it’s best to confirm it. Phil, are you cold?”

  Phil stopped sniffing and looked up. He regarded me for a moment, his gold eyes alert with intelligence. “Yes.”

  “Ride in my scarf, then. It won’t do for you to get chilled out here.”

  He leapt readily up into my arms and I situated him in the folds of the scarf around my neck. It was subtle, but I could feel him purring, happy to be held. He was such a serious little creature, an old soul in a young body. The clash of the two was quite adorable.

  As we walked, Jamie filled me in. “Phil found a trail of a person that went out from the patio door and around to the driveway near the servant’s entrance. I think the murderer used that to exit.”

  “Why not go through the house? It would have been shorter.”

  She frowned, considering this. “I suppose it would have. That’s true, why didn’t they do that? Or I guess they could have, and the cleaning charm wiped out the scent.”

  “That’s entirely possible as well, even likely. Are we looking at a burglary gone very wrong?”

  “It sort of makes sense at first glance, but then why pose the bodies that way? And whoever did it had charms on them, or at least enough magic to use some spells. That seems an odd ability for a thief to have.” She frowned. “Unless we’re looking at some third-rate magician who couldn’t cut it and fell to thievery.”

  “Which is possible. But again, why pose the Atwoods like the statue? That is indeed the most puzzling aspect of all of this. Have you found Mrs. Atwood’s purse yet?”

  “No. We’re still searching the house, but the main floor didn’t have it, at least. The absence of that purse is really starting to bother me. I have the feeling it might be important. At the very least, I would like to know where it went.”

  “So would I.”

  Jamie walked steadily, the grass sometimes crackling under her feet as she strode over thin ice that clung to the blades. “Was the statue important to the family in any way? I think someone said their mother liked it, that she thought it represented her and Mr. Atwood.”

  “She did, and I’d heard her say as much once, but it wasn’t a deep affection. I believe the statue was on offer to be sold with the house if the buyers were so inclined.”

  “Yeah, that says a lot. So that’s not the reason.” Frowning, her head came back and she stared at the sky for a moment. “I give it fifty-fifty odds the posing is important.”

  “The other fifty being that it’s a red herring?”

  “Yup. Because I don’t see a good third reason for doing it. Either it was done to send a message, and we’re too stupid to understand it, or it was done to throw us off the trail. If there’s a third possibility, I don’t see it.”

  “Neither do I, at the moment. But I also have more questions than answers.”

  “Let’s see if we can reverse that trend. Starting with what magic was used here.”

  I was in perfect agreement with her. We stepped in through the pool door, coming in with a sigh of relief as the warm air washed over me. Neither Penny nor Gerring were in sight, presumably combing the house for clues. The cats were likely with them, as I didn’t see them either. I went to the chairs, an aching sadness filling me. They’d been used for such a horrendous purpose. I recognized the curved dark wood and the floral material on the padded seats as being from the dining room. “These are from the dining room, by the by.”

  Jamie’s eyes cut to me. “Are they really? But isn’t that on the opposite end of the house?”

  “Practically. Curious, is it not? Considering that the study also possessed similar chairs and is much closer.”

  “That is very curious.” She pulled her magical glasses out of a pocket and slipped them back on, a precaution so she didn’t cross through some trace evidence by accident. I’d modified her glasses twice to be more helpful, but they could still only show so much. “So, the thief knew the house well enough to know about the statue, but not that the study had chairs? My weird meter is going off a bit on that one.”

  “I thought it might.” I set Phil down so I could pull out a wand and do a series of diagnostic readings. He stayed right by my feet, sitting like a dog at heel. Normally I would use a black box to preserve the scene before examining it, but this scene had already been so thoroughly disturbed, there was no point to it. Anger boiled in my blood at the thought of lost evidence. I had to breathe deeply and shed the emotion as best I was able. Anger clouded judgement, and I couldn’t afford that here.

  I cast my most thorough spell and recorded the readings in a book for future reference and evidence, frowning as I read through the results. “Same charms.” I rather figured. “Phil, that scent you picked up of the person near the door, does it extend out of this room?”

  “No.” Phil seemed very confident of this.

  “Hmm. When you went through the house with me, did you smell it anywhere else?”

  Phil was once again confident. “No.”

  Jamie’s lips pursed. “Interesting. I know a cleaning charm was used in here, but not the rest of the house. Who could this possibly be?”

  “The real estate agent?”

  “No, she went through the house, remember?”

  “Right. Not Drummond, obviously. Some other staff member?”

  “Possibly? I only know of one down here, but I suppose this could be a gardener if they don’t enter the house and instead go around it. But…Phil tracked it. The scent went from the door of the pool house and straight for the driveway. No deviations.”

  “I imagine a gardener’s tracks would go all over the grounds.” I could see why she was puzzled by this. “You don’t think it was a witness, do you?”

  Her mouth screwed up onto one side. “Maybe. Too much is weird about this case for me to jump to any conclusions. But I’ll definitely keep it in mind and try to solve the question if I can.”

  I’d dearly love to know who Phil detected outside that door. It could very well be the gardener. I hoped it wasn’t, though. I hoped it was either the murderer or a witness.

  She turned in place, looking about her. “I can’t even find signs of a struggle,” she muttered in a mostly rhetorical fashion. “I’ve looked for drag marks from the front door to here and found nothing like that. Floors are pristine. Every single stick of furniture in this house is in place except these two chairs. Nothing on the main floor looks disturbed. And why here? Were they going for a last swim before being murdered? Did they actually intend to stay the night? Seriously, what went down? Argh,
this is going to bother me. Either way, no more answers for us here. Let’s rejoin the others and see what they’ve found.”

  I walked out with her, leaving the humidity of the pool behind as we entered the house proper. It looked so pristine, the white tiles gleaming, the art perfectly straight on the cream-colored walls, it almost gave lie to the ghastly thing that had happened right on the other side of the wall. The feeling was perturbing in the extreme, as if I were in a haunted house but unaware of it. Like one of those damsels in the dreadful cheap novels.

  It was such a relief to see another being that I might have stepped a bit too quickly toward Mr. Drummond as he sat on the kitchen stool. He stood as we approached, face anxious.

  “Did you discover anything?”

  “A few things, all odd,” Jamie said, pulling her notebook out. “Mr. Drummond, I need answers to several questions. First, what charms do you keep stored here in the house?”

  “The basics. An anti-fire hex system is in place, of course. We also keep basic repair charms, cleaning charms, and an anti-infestation charm here in the kitchen. There’s a special storage drawer for them.” He clearly didn’t understand the point of the question.

  “Do you keep track of them? Can you tell me if anything is missing?”

  “Yes, of course. I haven’t looked at them recently, not since I used a cleaning charm for the front hall.” Turning, he pulled a key ring from his waistcoat pocket and went to a drawer that he unlocked with a jingle. Pulling it free, he gave the contents of the drawer a quick study. “It all seems to be in order. Nothing’s missing that I can detect.”

  “Do you mind?” Jamie came around and bent to give the lock a more thorough study. “Hmm, no signs of forced entry, either. Henri, I don’t think it came from here.”

  “Apparently not.” To Mr. Drummond, I explained, “Someone used a cleaning charm in the pool area, and we want to determine where the charm came from. If someone brought it with them, it speaks of premeditation.”

  His confusion cleared up immediately, leaving a dark scowl on his face. “I wasn’t aware one was used. How horrible they came prepared like that.”

  “Quite.” I empathized with his emotions completely. “Can you tell us if there was any sign of luggage? Did they intend to stay the night?”

  “No, sir, not to my knowledge. I found no bags here. Why do you ask?”

  “Their placement in the pool house is odd to us. We wondered if they were there for a last swim, perhaps.”

  “I doubt that, sir. There’s no clothes left in the house, and Mrs. Atwood was far too shy to swim without a proper bathing suit.”

  Hmm. This became curiouser and curiouser. Jamie gave him a quick smile, tucking her notebook back in her breast pocket. “And I’d like to talk to the Jordane housekeeper. Erin, you said her name was?”

  “Indeed, Detective. A moment and I’ll ring her up for you.” He went to the side of the kitchen, in a nook next to the pantry, and opened an enclosed door I’d not noticed before. It revealed a simple black telephone, which he dialed with commendable alacrity considering the device had likely only been in the house some two years or so. “Miss Erin? Yes, they’re ready for you.”

  Jamie stepped forward and I gave her room to do so without fuss. Speaking long distance over a telephone left much to be desired, in my opinion. Despite the advancements Ellie Warner had made in regard to sound quality.

  “Hello, Miss Erin, I’m Detective Edwards.” Jamie positioned herself so she could put the phone between ear and shoulder, her notebook out and on the foldout stand so she could jot down notes. “Thank you so much for speaking with me.”

  Drummond ducked out of the room, presumably to attend to something. I positioned myself next to the phone, my back to the pantry door. It was easy to listen in; the receiver was incredibly loud.

  “Can you tell me if the Atwoods planned to stay overnight? Take any luggage?”

  “No, Detective, they were going down and coming right back up,” the housekeeper said. “They left somewhere around four o’clock in the afternoon. I did think it strange they didn’t return that night, but with the snow on the roads, I thought perhaps they’d chosen a hotel. Or to stay in the house, despite the lack of luggage.”

  “I see. Can you confirm for me that Mrs. Atwood took her purse?”

  “Oh yes. She had a novel she wanted to read on the train. I put it in there for her myself. Why do you ask?”

  “We’re not sure where it’s gotten to. I’ll look for it. Could be it was just put somewhere odd. Can you give me a description, an idea of what was in it?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s black leather with embossed flowers on it, a gold snap, and a short gold chain. I can’t speak for precisely what’s inside, but generally Mrs. Atwood would carry smelling salts, a handkerchief, a makeup compact, lipstick, her wallet, and a book. Oh, and it has a thin strap that comes over the top and buckles on the other side. It’ll have her name in it, in the very bottom of the lining. It was designed just for her.”

  “No keys?”

  “She rarely had need of them. One of us was always in residence, and of course Mr. Atwood drove her everywhere. Or a chauffeur did.”

  “I see. Makes sense. I understand the staff here was let go, all aside from the gardener, Mr. Drummond, and a maid. Was any of the staff here absorbed into the Jordane household up there?”

  “No, Detective, no one was willing to make the move into the city.”

  “And does anyone up there have access to the house down here?”

  “No, Detective, not to my knowledge.”

  “Okay, thank you. I can’t think of another question at this moment, but I’ll call you again if I may?”

  “Please do. They were good employers, and I hate what happened. I’ll help as I can.”

  “Thank you so much. Goodbye.” Jamie hung up at that point, lips pursed in thought. “All signs point to them coming down here for a quick trip. Why-oh-why were they in the pool house like that?”

  “An excellent question I wish I possessed the answer to.”

  McSparrin joined us in that moment, her steps quick and light. “Discover anything?”

  “A few things,” Jamie answered, turning to greet her. “But answer me first, did you find the purse?”

  “Absolutely no sign of it.”

  “Hmmm. I’m really wondering if the murderer took off with it for some reason. The housekeeper in Jordane confirmed Mrs. Atwood had her purse on her when she left.”

  “Maybe it got lost along the way here? Perhaps she accidentally left it on the train?”

  Jamie snapped her fingers. “That is an excellent question and a good possibility. We can look into that tomorrow.”

  “So, what did you find?” McSparrin asked.

  I ticked things off on my fingers as I answered, “The chairs used were from the dining room, which is odd considering the study is closer and has similar chairs. The sniffies the Felixes detected were a cleaning charm, a quick-set artist charm, and a binding charm. There’s a scent of a person outside the pool house, leading from the door and around the house to the driveway just through that door”—I pointed to the kitchen door that led outside—“where it disappears. Phil tells us this scent doesn’t appear anywhere else in the house on the main floor.”

  McSparrin’s eyebrows rose. “Int-er-esting. I’d like to know who that was.”

  “We all do. It could be the gardener, but I’m hoping not. Staff interviews will tell us.” McSparrin turned as Gerring joined us via the kitchen door.

  For his sake, I recapped again our discoveries before asking, “What did you discover?”

  “Not anything to report. It all looked normal, no hint of strange footprints or anything. If there was a fight somewhere in this house, someone has very carefully erased all signs of it.” Gerring had both Clint and Tasha in his arms, and neither Felix seemed at all interested in getting down anytime soon.

  Clint piped up. “Jamie, they only went from front door to k
itchen, to dining room, to pool.”

  “You don’t catch the Atwood scents anywhere else?”

  “No. Other people too.”

  “Oh really. One of those is likely our murderer, but the scents could be from staff and the real estate agent and her clients too. We’ll need to parse through them. Good job, bud.”

  It told me the Atwoods really hadn’t been in the house for long and had no intention of staying if they hadn’t even ventured upstairs at all.

  Gerring cleared his throat a little. “But, sir, how are they getting past the wards?”

  Tapping a finger to my chin, I answered forthrightly, “I strongly suspect someone has carelessly lost a badge, and someone else has cleverly picked it up and used it to waltz through the wards. The protocol on the wards will allow anyone with that badge inside. The ward is operating perfectly, it’s the only explanation I can offer.”

  “Odds are someone had a key as well, as they got into the house just fine.”

  Gerring frowned, shifting his weight a bit from one foot to the other. “Just as a thought, do you think we should try to hit the Open Market out here? We need to look for that missing purse anyway, and it’ll give us a chance to see if we can locate anything else stolen.”

  “Now that’s an excellent idea,” I said approvingly.

  Jamie looked between us, face blank. “I’m not following. Why would we go to a market?”

  Ah, this must be something that didn’t exist on Earth. “The Open Market is a free-for-all event held every weekend, barring terrible weather. It’s understood that thieves can unload their wares there via a trader, and if you are the owner and can prove it, they have to return your property. If you don’t show up and look, and they sell it, then it’s your loss because you should have worked harder to regain your property.”

  Her eyes grew steadily wider as I explained and were in danger of leaving her head altogether by the time I finished. Jamie’s voice rose in a squeak. “Are you freaking kidding me?!”