Brandywine Investigations

by Angel Martinez

  At twenty-three, poor Jack was barely ready to be the responsible party himself. He pushed up the sleeves of his black thermal shirt, exposing the tattoo sleeves underneath, and blew out a breath that stirred the green-and-blue Flock-of-Seagull bangs half over his eyes. "They're fucking expensive, Boss. I could've done this myself."

  "Sure. I know. Given time and the right tools, I know you could. But in the meantime, the place is a health hazard, and no one can use the kitchen." Dio rubbed a hand over his face. "What do I keep saying?"

  "No expense spared," Gina muttered, twirling a lock of pink hair and glaring at Jack. "You want us safe and happy."

  "Too right I do."

  Clara cleared her throat, clicking her tongue ring nervously against her teeth. "Boss, um, no one has access."

  Access? To what? The house? They all have… Oh, crap. "Aw, man. Why didn't anyone call me?"

  "We've been calling." Jack's tone had grown more sullen. "You've been out of range, your phone said."

  "Crap. Damn pocket dimension." Dio pulled out his phone and realized he hadn't checked messages. Yes, twelve missed from the house. "I'm so freaking sorry. Things have been bad. And weird. Weird and bad since Meggie died. I haven't been thinking straight. Okay, I've been thinking less straight. And no one to straighten out the bends and meanders. Jack. You. Me. We need to talk. Backyard. Clara, take the kids out and get them some Indian food or whatever you guys want. Gina, please stay here and let the plumber in."

  An hour, a little yelling on both sides, and a phone call to the bank later, Dio hugged a sobbing Jack close. Poor Jack. He'd tried his best to hold things together while grieving. They had all relied on Meggie so much for everything. It wasn't fair. He'd make sure the older ones shared responsibility from now on.

  "You saw her? In the Underworld?" Jack swiped at his eyes, smearing his mascara.

  Dio pulled out a handkerchief and cleaned up the smears. "I did. She was so beautiful, even more beautiful there."

  "Was she happy?"

  "You know how Meggie is… was. Always, what's the word? Serene. She was sad that I was. Sad, that is. Not serene. But yeah. You know what, Jack? I think she was happy."

  Jack reached out and swiped a tear from Dio's cheek with his thumb. "So are you crying for her, Boss? Or for you?"

  "Ha! Smart boy." Dio gave him a crooked smile. "I miss her. So you think you'll be okay here? I have to get back to the library."

  "Not a sentence I thought I'd ever hear you say. We'll be all right. Sorry about the drama. Go help his lordship catch that fucker who killed our Meg."

  "Gonna do my best." Though how much help I'll be is debatable.

  "I'll have them for you by morning, Leander." Lord Hephaestus made his careful way down the stairs, crutch first, good leg next, a slow descent that made Leander's stomach churn. He had insisted on coming to the third floor to measure for the new glass for the cases and then insisted that they go back down to the Circulation Desk, where he had several volumes waiting.

  "Thank you, my lord. I do wish you would allow me to fetch the books for you."

  "Nothing I haven't done for centuries. Don't fret."

  Leander did fret, of course, every step of the way, especially when Lord Hephaestus winced at the bottom of the stairs. Most likely poor form to call attention to it, but he was debating whether to offer a chair when a red-and-white streak zipped around the corner and stopped in front of them, twittering.

  "Ah. Bingley says they've located your last book, my lord. I could—"

  Lord Hephaestus cut him off. "Good. Let's go. Thank you, Bingley."

  It had been a strange morning, with Lord Hermes hovering and various other gods coming to see him on thin excuses. Checking to see if anyone had murdered him yet, he supposed. Odder still was his constant struggle to focus, his mind continually drifting off to recall the feel of clever fingers smoothing back his hair, of firm, full lips caressing his own, of—

  "Leander?"

  He blinked, staring at Lord Hephaestus until he realized the god of the forge had been speaking to him. His face heated to a degree that would have easily stoked that forge. "Your pardon, my lord. I didn't… hear you."

  "Hmm. It's been a difficult few days for you. Not surprising at all that you're distracted."

  This remark didn't help to cool his face at all, since now his guilt-ridden insides warred between guilt over thinking about Dionysus and not the library, and thinking about Dionysus and not the murder. Part of him wished that the god of wine, who had spent centuries avoiding the library, would go back to avoiding it. A larger, more desperately vocal part of him wished Dionysus would come bounding around the next corner. It wasn't that he missed the little miscreant… except that he did, which made so little sense it made his head spin.

  Today has been quieter without him. Calmer. More usual. Yes, and somehow drained of color. Leander swallowed a sigh and paced the corridors beside Lord Hephaestus, who was nice enough, but not Dio. He nearly missed a step as he realized he'd called Lord Dionysus by a nickname in his mind. Was it disrespectful? Perhaps. But from a god who had kissed him? Who had practically sat in his lap while Leander read to him?

  The previous evening certainly had muddied things. Add to this the simple joy at the core of Dionysus, the way life excited him, the love he exuded for the world… It became less and less possible to think of such a brightly exuberant being as my lord.

  He came back to himself again when he realized one of the assistants was climbing his leg to get his attention. The Circulation Desk sat directly in front of him. He didn't recall reaching the open, airy room in which it sat. Shaking his head, he lifted Emma up to his shoulder and strode behind the desk.

  "I'll have your books in a moment, my lord." Leander moved back from the desk so he could lean down to check the shelves underneath without scraping the wood with his horns. "Emma, where did you put them?"

  She hopped down from his shoulder, galumphing toward the corner of the desk while he searched with both hands on the shelves. He dropped to one knee for a better vantage, moved his right hand over toward the books he finally spotted, and hit… something. A hard, cylindrical object that shouldn't have been there. Dread rising in him like a dark, viscous tide, he closed his fingers over the object and pulled it into the light. It was smooth and fit well in his hand, but as he straightened to bring the object into the light, he cried out and dropped it on the desk as if it had stung him.

  "What in the name of—" Lord Hephaestus leaned closer to peer at the spearhead and half of a shaft on the desk. The tip bristled with dried flakes of blood and gore, the haft blackened almost to the broken end where the wood still showed ash gray. "Achilles' spear. Wasn't that the weapon used— Leander?"

  This horrid piece of metal had killed a girl. Stolen her life before she had time to live. Her life, smeared all over its evil, leering visage. Leander's vision tunneled, and the light fled in a sudden rush.

  Dio had returned to the library through Hermes's door and heard from his brother that he could probably find Leander down at Circulation. Right. Two floors down, if he could find the right set of stairs. But he was getting more accustomed to the layout, the twists and turns of the library slightly less frustrating with each visit. He found the dragon stairs quickly and slid hipshot down the banister instead of surfing down this time. While he'd yet to find the Circulation Desk himself, he had a vague notion of it being in the center of things, so he meandered in that general direction. After a few turns though, the raised voices gave him a better idea of direction, and his meander turned into a sprint.

  The shelves opened up into one of the rare open spaces in the library, a rectangular, high-ceilinged area with carts and a huge, three-sided counter-style desk that would have been waist high on Leander if he had been standing behind the it. Instead, he was sitting curled around his knees on the floor at the corner farthest from Dio with several gods looming over him, arguing heatedly.

  "I don't know what you were thinking, Uncl
e Hades, forcing him to spend time with someone so irresponsible," Athena fumed as he drew closer. She waved a hand at Leander. "Look at the state he's in! I haven't seen him this distressed in centuries."

  "I think it was the blood, Sis, not Dio." Hermes pointed to the desk at a rusty spear half.

  No. Not rust. The old iron scent hit Dio. Meggie's blood. He swallowed hard but kept advancing. He had to see if Leander was all right.

  The mention of blood seemed to set Leander off. He rocked and wailed, "You promised me safety!"

  Athena's voice could have been kinder and gentler as she said, "You've had safety all this time. This is one isolated incident. Uncle, I think he should stay with Aunt Hestia. Dionysus has obviously agitated him."

  Hermes spotted Dio and gave him an apologetic shrug, though their sister seemed to be winding up for another volley. Hermes nudged Leander, who startled and glanced around.

  "Dio!" Leander reached out, forcing everyone to scramble back as he struggled to his feet.

  Really? Now it's Dio? Take the breakthroughs you can, I guess. His jaw clenched in a grim line, Dio strode forward and took Leander's trembling hand. He glared at Athena as he stepped past her and into Leander's embrace, cardigan-encased arms closing around him so tightly that spots decorated his vision. That was fine. He was sturdy enough to take it.

  "Hey, I'm here. I'm here." He hugged back, shocked that Leander would let him, but the poor guy was completely freaked out. "Wasn't the best day, huh?"

  "No," Leander whispered into his shoulder. He drew a shaky breath, and his trembling eased a hair. "Though I suppose there have been worse."

  "I bet." Dio stroked his broad back. "It's just a thing now. Can't hurt you all by itself."

  "Anything you want to take back, Thena?" Hermes said in a dry voice. "Thirty seconds with Dio and he's calm."

  "I see." She didn't sound pleased, but at least she wasn't shouting anymore. "Probably his beast nature that connects with Dionysus. I should have considered that."

  Dio peered out from under Leander's horns. "Yeah. Apology accepted. Someone wanna tell me what happened here?"

  "Hephaestus requested some materials," Uncle Hades answered from where he was unfolding two large white pieces of paper and spreading them out on the desk. "Leander happened across the murder weapon while retrieving them. He did not react well to the discovery. None of the assistants brought it, which was my first thought, that they were merely tidying things out of place. But they have confirmed that they did not. So there is a good chance our killer planted it here."

  "Why?"

  "Without being in that person's mind, I can't be certain." Uncle Hades shook his head over the papers Dio now recognized as Ti's map drawings from the previous day. "To simply be rid of it? To implicate Leander? Puzzling. Though not the only thing that puzzles me."

  "Oh? What else, Uncle?" Hermes asked as he and Athena moved to peer over Uncle Hades's shoulder.

  "Could someone put the damn thing away, maybe?" Dio said, irritated that still no one thought of Leander.

  "Yes. Of course." Uncle Hades pulled a scarf from his coat and wrapped the spear in it. Normally, the thing would've gone to the police. Here, he was the police, so no one objected. He set the weapon on the floor out of sight. "I need to understand how no one could have seen the murderer. How movements align to allow this to happen."

  "The murderer took the bookshelf elevator?" Dio turned Leander so he could still cling but they could both see the maps.

  "Maybe," Hermes said slowly. "But the books were removed from the shelf on the third floor. How would the killer have removed the books previously without the pandas reacting to books out of place?"

  Dio's head already spun. "How do they do that, anyway?"

  "They're magically attuned to the books," Leander said softly. "They know when something is out of place, though it may take them time to find it."

  Athena pursed her lips, argument forgotten in favor of a logic problem. "Either the killer removed the books previously and rode the shelf up prior to the murder, or the killer removed the books only after the murder and rode the shelf down to escape notice."

  "Okay, let's think about this." Hermes rubbed a hand over the side of his face. "How much time do we have between the murder and someone arriving?"

  "Elizabeth found the body." Uncle Hades pointed to the spot on the map. "She was on the stairs when she heard Meghan cry out."

  "And the pandas move fast, so a matter of maybe seconds. Maybe two minutes before she came back with Leander. But both of them would've been focused here." Hermes pointed to the site of the murder and then the cycling shelf. "Not a couple of hallways over here where the murderer was. I think the killer would've had time to remove the books at that point."

  "They did look like someone dumped them on the floor in a hurry," Dio added, recalling Leander's unhappy reaction to the mess of books.

  "Which would make more sense." Athena picked up the argument. "If the killer had removed the books prior to the murder, hoping to use the empty shelf later, then the assistants would have put them back."

  "Yes." Uncle Hades glowered at the map as if it had insulted him. "But my issue is this… Of the beings we know were in the library that day, we have several whose movements we can account for prior to the murder but not when the murder took place. Meghan separates from Dionysus and George on the stairs. Dionysus is with Set and then with Hestia's people after this separation. None of these people could have physically reached the murder scene without Meghan seeing them, since she would have taken the stairs to the third floor before them. The construction of the hallways in the Alexandrian Collection guarantees they would have passed her to reach the site of the theft."

  "Right." Hermes traced a path on the page with his finger. "They'd have to either walk past her or take the shelf up and approach from the other direction."

  "Or the being would need to be invisible," Leander said just above a whisper.

  "Yes. My thoughts keep turning back to that as well." Uncle Hades tapped the paper. "Set has the means, certainly. But why? Why would he steal something that he could study any time he wished?"

  "Why does Set do anything?" Hermes shrugged. "He does what he wants because he wants to."

  But Set liked Meggie. He wouldn't have murdered her, would he? Though, Set murdered his own brother just 'cause…" Have you talked to him, Uncle?" Dio asked, suddenly bone weary and sick of the whole what-if crowd.

  "No. I have yet to locate him since the murder. His absence is telling, to say the least."

  "I guess. Look, if you don't need Leander, I'm taking him to his rooms. He's so done. And I'm kinda done too."

  Uncle Hades stared through him for one of those long, squirm-inducing moments. "No. Not yet. I'd like to bring Hestia's staff back in one by one, and I'd prefer if we're all there to observe and question."

  "Even Grace? We know where she was."

  "Yes." Uncle Hades folded his maps back up and returned them to his coat pocket. "Something is not right, and I fail to see it. The pieces will not fit."

  "Your room, Uncle?" Hermes asked.

  "No. Hestia's I think. Less strain for everyone involved."

  Maybe embarrassed by his meltdown, Leander pulled away to straighten his sweater and kilt, though his hands still shook so hard that Dio wanted to help. He kept his hands to himself, forcing himself to walk beside Leander without touching as they all trooped to Auntie Hestia's library room. Athena said she needed to fetch something and would join them, while Uncle Hades strode through the door into the human world and Leander sank miserably into one of the wing chairs near the center of the room.

  "So, wait. He just went in. Auntie Hestia just leaves her door open? That means anyone could come in here!" Dio waved in agitation at the glowing doorway.

  "No. Not quite." Hermes leaned against the central table. "Auntie Hestia keeps it open during business hours so her employees can access the library when they need to. But she has security staff on the ot
her side and a registry so she knows who was here and when. They have to sign in and out."

  "Oh. Damn. I thought I hit something important there." Dio snagged a blanket from the back of the sofa in the little seating group to the right and draped it over Leander's lap.

  "Was a good thought," Hermes said. "You're thinking harder than usual."

  "Okay, I'm really over the everyone-thinks-Dio's-an-idiot thing."

  Hermes reached out and gave him a gentle cuff. "Have I ever, ever said you were an idiot? You're just not usually concentrating this hard."

  "Fine. Whatever. Jerk."

  "Twit."

  "Dick waffle."

  By now Hermes was laughing helplessly, and Leander's eyes, what was visible of them, had gone huge and round as pie plates. Naturally, since the universe's sense of humor sucked, Ares chose that moment to sweep into the room.

  "You two can't even take murder seriously, can you?" He sneered as his gaze searched the table. "Disgusting."

  "Oh, fuck you and the tank you rode in on," Dio said, all his laughter evaporating. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  "Uncle Hades sent me to look at the murder weapon. He understands the importance of calling in an expert."

  Hermes pointed to the far end of the table. "It's in Uncle Hades's scarf, Are. What does he want to know? If it's really the spear Achilles used?"

  "We know that already." Ares unwrapped the spear with a reverence he showed only for weapons. "He wants my opinion on difficulty of use for the wound in question."

  Weird how the family frown showed up on Ares's smarmy face when he concentrated too. It was Uncle Hades's frown, though less intimidating. It was Herm's frown, though less calculating. Ares balanced the spear half on one palm, held the haft in both hands, and ran a finger gingerly over the spear tip.

  Finally, he set it down, shaking his head. "No skill needed at all. Not much strength either. This beauty will slice through steel like a utility knife through caulk. Bone doesn't stand a chance."

  "Do you fucking mind?" Dio spat out. "That thing killed my Meggie, and you're freaking Leander out."