“Which was…?”
“Stabbed through the heart with a silver dagger. During a full moon. Quite brutal.” Cornelia almost, almost sounded like she actually had some emotion behind the words. “The prevailing theory is that it’s a plebeian with antipatrician sentiments.”
“Obviously,” said Justin. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and never taking his eyes off the screen. A rush of pleasure ran through him at finally having something substantial to use his brainpower on. “A plebeian with remarkable access, since they all happened on land grants.” The castes kept the borders of their lands closed. Federal officials could enter at any time, of course, and other patricians had limited visiting rights. Average plebeians were only allowed entry if they had special permission, such as a friend’s sponsorship or something business related.
Cornelia gave a nondescript grunt that could have been either impressed or disappointed. “What also makes them remarkable is that they all took place within homes or offices that showed no sign of entry, ones that were even locked from the inside.”
“Then they were invited in. Or are just cleverer than you think.” Justin spun through the possibilities. “You’re probably looking for a delivery person, a plebeian who’d have reason to visit all of those castes. Someone strong enough to wield a dagger like that. Probably male.”
“Yes,” said Cornelia. “Police have also come to the same conclusions.”
Justin finally looked back at her. “Then what exactly does this have to do with me? This is a police matter, and apparently they’ve already figured out what I have—probably not as quickly as me, but still.”
“What this has to do with you,” said Cornelia, ignoring his self-compliment, “is that forensics has shown the weapon used was made of an antiquated silver mix and had a nonmanufactured blade—an unusual choice that could have many ritualistic and spiritual associations. As could the fact that all of the murders happened during full moons.”
“And that’s why we’re involved. You think some religious group is responsible.” It wouldn’t be the first time religions had been tied to crimes, forcing servitors to work with local law enforcement. “This is still the kind of work any servitor could do.”
Wait for it, said Magnus.
Francis, grinning from ear to ear, finally couldn’t take it anymore. “There’s one more piece of evidence! Something uniquely suited to you and your expertise. No one else is capable.”
Cornelia frowned at the outburst. “Most of the victims had security cameras inside and out. All of those were cut, so we have no footage of the crimes—with one exception. This last victim, the Erinian, had a secret camera that wasn’t wired into the rest of her security. It seems she didn’t trust her cleaning staff. She thought they were stealing her jewelry.”
“I haven’t heard anything about this,” said Mae, speaking up for the first time.
“It’s been kept out of the news,” exclaimed Francis. “It’s too incredible.”
“Show us the Madigan footage,” Cornelia told the screen.
A video immediately started. The camera appeared to be mounted into a corner of the ceiling and looked down into a sumptuous bedroom. The dark windows indicated it was nighttime. A red-haired woman stepped into frame and paused to examine herself in a dresser mirror. After a few moments, she took off her shoes and began unfastening her earrings, silver hoops of Celtic knot work. She had just moved on to a similarly stylized bird necklace when a black shadow flashed across the screen, coming from the right. The entire thing took only a few seconds. As the shadow entered, it had no form. It simply looked like a nebulous cloud of smoke, save that no smoke could move that fast. When that dark mass reached the woman, it suddenly took on a human shape. There was the brief motion of an arm pulling back and thrusting toward the woman’s chest. Her mouth opened, and before she even hit the ground, the figure had darted out of frame.
Justin was on his feet. “What was that?”
“That,” said Cornelia, “is exactly what we need you to find out.”
“Show it again,” he demanded.
Cornelia played it once more at normal speed and then again slowed down.
“Again,” said Justin. By then, he’d walked right up to the screen. When he requested a fifth viewing, Cornelia refused.
“No matter how many times you watch it, it’s not going to change.”
“It’s a trick,” he said. “It’s been manipulated.”
“We’ve had our best people examine it,” explained Francis, seeming to love this. “There’s no sign of any modification. The type of camera used would make it difficult to hide it anyway.”
“Then they obviously weren’t your best.” Justin finally returned to his seat. “Give me a copy of this. I’ve got a guy—or will have him, when I’m back—who’ll find out what happened to it in five minutes.”
“You may have it examined however you like,” said Cornelia crisply. “And I can assure you, I’d like nothing better than to resolve this fraud.”
“If it’s a fraud,” said Francis, eyes still shining.
Mae’s face was full of confusion as she turned to him. “What else would it be?”
Cornelia carried on as though Mae hadn’t spoken. “While you have the video analyzed as you see fit, you will have the freedom and resources to investigate the murders and hopefully uncover whatever group is responsible for this.”
“And,” added Francis, a meaningful gleam in his eye, “your expertise in particular may be what breaks this case.”
And that was when Justin knew. He knew why they wanted him back, and he also knew that Cornelia and Francis had very, very different views on both the case and his involvement. Francis was the one who thought Justin truly had something to offer. Someone at Francis’s level would’ve been allowed to read that last, dangerous report, and something in it had struck him. Word had probably gotten to him as well of the unofficial reports, the things whispered at high levels that Justin had refused to commit to writing, the things that had gotten him sent here.
They know what you’ve seen, said Magnus.
I bet you never thought things would pan out like this, mused Horatio.
No, Justin certainly hadn’t. It also occurred to him that they weren’t explicitly spelling out what part of his “expertise” was of use here. They weren’t enlightening Mae about the secrets he’d unwillingly become enmeshed in, which again made him curious about why she was here.
“How much will you need to know about my methods?” he asked carefully. He already knew who to talk to and that it was a conversation that should be had off the record.
Cornelia and Francis exchanged looks in a rare moment of solidarity. “We need this taken care of as soon as possible,” she said. “It’s drawing too much attention, too much panic. And if word gets out that there’s a murderous cult behind this, everything our country was founded on will be on the line.”
“So,” said Justin, reading the subtext, “the results are more important than the methods.”
Their silence on the matter answered for them, and Cornelia shifted the topic to logistics, telling him what to expect when they returned to Vancouver. Justin only half listened. Vancouver. I’m going to Vancouver! He would’ve been ecstatic over the RUNA’s humblest town, let alone its dazzling capital.
“You’re probably not in any significant danger from investigating the cold cases.” Justin couldn’t be certain, but Cornelia almost sounded disappointed about that. “But one can never predict what some of these zealots will do. Since they may be, uh, uncooperative, we feel you should have more security than usual.”
“After that group tried to set me on fire, I don’t really have a problem with enhanced security,” he told her. “Add as many people as you want.”
Cornelia shook her head. “I’m sure Prætorian Koskinen will be more than sufficient by herself.”
“What?” asked Justin and Mae in unison.
“Didn’t General Gan explain the nature of this mission?” asked Cornelia, sounding legitimately puzzled.
“No,” said Mae, visibly trying to bury her shock again. “He simply told me to accompany you here.”
“For which we are very grateful, my dear.” Francis smiled at her as if she were a favorite granddaughter. “And now you’ll be Dr. March’s bodyguard as he travels and completes this assignment.”
“A bodyguard,” said Mae flatly. “I’m going to be a bodyguard.”
Boring work for a Valkyrie, said Magnus. If you want her in bed again, piss off someone dangerous so that she has something interesting to do.
“It may also be useful to have a patrician around,” added Francis. “It might get you a friendly reception if you go to the land grants. You know how they are—no offense.”
“None taken,” Mae murmured. She still looked stunned, and it seemed legitimate to Justin, reducing the odds that she was here to kill him. “Do you know how long I’ll be assigned to him?”
Cornelia looked irritated that this meeting was still going on, now that the essentials were covered. “We need this solved in a little less than four weeks.”
“Why four weeks?” asked Mae.
“The next full moon,” said Justin. His high came crashing to the ground.
“He’s so smart,” said Francis, grinning.
Cornelia rolled her eyes. “Yes. Brilliant.”
“And what happens if I don’t solve it in four weeks?” Justin asked quietly.
She fixed him with a cold gaze. “Well. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, won’t we?”
Justin attempted a smile, but all he could think was that said bridge would probably be on fire, with him stuck in the middle and alligators circling below.