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

  Thankfully, she’d slept the rest of the night without another stir. I awoke Seaton this morning with news of the situation and a request for aid. I wasn’t sure what best to apply in this particular case. Warding her apartment against outside scents was all well and good, but she could hardly hide here until construction was over. With the smell being outside, her flashbacks could hit at any moment unless we took preventative measures.

  Jamie sat next to me, stabbing a fork into the steaming food. “Thanks for coming up last night. I don’t think I said that.”

  She seemed fine enough, a touch tired perhaps from being awoken so brutally by her memories. I was relieved if that was her only symptom. “You’re welcome.”

  She seemed sincere in her thanks, but her expression displayed a mix between resignation and perhaps a touch of embarrassment she’d needed such aid. I understood her pride was in the mix and appreciated she hadn’t given in to it. Whether it was common sense or her trust in me, I wasn’t sure, but was glad regardless.

  I hesitated, trying to think of the best way to phrase the matter. “I spoke with Seaton this morning. He informed me that while he was still figuring out how to stabilize your magical core, you sometimes had issue with your senses overwhelming you?”

  Jamie grimaced but lifted both shoulders in a shrug. “Unfortunately. That hasn’t happened in a long time, though. Why?”

  “He still has some of the tools he used to help ease you through those hurdles. The nose guard, for instance.” An interesting device first invented for women during that delicate time of pregnancy when anything could set off their nausea. Seaton informed me he had modified it to make it even stronger, allowing no scents past her aura.

  Jamie brightened for a moment. Then her nose scrunched up as if she’d come across something very bitter. “That thing’s a catch-22. Sure, it protects me against the wrong smells, but it also takes half the joy out of eating.”

  Scent was largely integrated into food, so I did understand her objection quite well. “Yes, he informed me you lost twenty pounds the last time you had to wear it. Still, I think it won’t be quite as bad in this case. We’ll have this apartment sealed and ready for you at any time during the day. If you eat here, perhaps it won’t have as serious of a side-effect on you?”

  She chewed thoughtfully before swallowing and admitting, “Doesn’t hurt to try. And I can’t really afford to not wear the guard. Having random flashbacks while investigating a case is not recommended.”

  “Too true.” And the main worry I entertained at the moment. I was glad she was being her usual reasonable self about the matter. “At any rate, he’s promised to send it to the precinct via courier, so it will be there by the time we arrive. I can ward a scarf for you to wear over your nose until you get there.”

  She shot me a warm smile. “Thank you, Henri.”

  At times, much like now, the warmth of that smile sent my heart skipping a beat. In such moments, I often found myself wishing we had a closer relationship, giving me more liberty with her. But alas, such realizations always came at the wrong moment, like this morning when she was already feeling out of sorts.

  Since she was well aware I would move heaven and earth at her behest, I didn’t say anything more elaborate than, “You’re welcome.”

  Good to his word, Seaton had the nose guard waiting on Jamie’s desk. My partner grimaced but immediately put it on. It was a slim item of brushed nickel that rested on top of her nose and seated itself comfortably right behind the nostrils. Barely noticeable, really, and easily mistaken for unique jewelry. The spell engaged and wrapped itself in an arc around the front of her nostrils, filtering the air before she could inhale it. A simple, effective system. Only the nose ring itself was visible, of course, the spell not something the average person could detect. Even then, several people gave a few strange looks, but no one thought to ask her much about it.

  I’d have had serious words with anyone who did.

  For once, I was able to stay next to her and work. With Colette as an additional magical examiner, the work didn’t get much of a chance to back up. Even though Jamie and I were coming off a rather harrowing case, my lab hadn’t been overrun with work requests. It gave me the luxury to help Jamie with the paperwork so we could tie off all loose ends. After the events of last night, I was especially grateful for the chance to linger at her side.

  Fourth Precinct was quite accustomed to Royal Mage Seaton strolling through its corridors, but Royal Mage Jules Felix walking in set the place aflutter. To my recollection, he’d only walked through these doors on two other occasions. I was seated next to Jamie’s desk when I saw him stop at the front counter to speak with the officer on duty. He wore his usual dramatic half-cape of dark blue, blond hair in a gentle wave that just touched his shoulders.

  “Is RM Felix here for us?” I asked in bemusement.

  Jamie’s head came up. She spied him at the same moment he turned and spotted her. He waved and then approached with a determined stride, his slender form slipping past criminals and policemen, expression showing equal disinterest. “Apparently so.”

  When I’d first acquired Clint, I’d done so through a myriad of connections—namely, RM Felix. I think most assumed I’d done so through Seaton, but at the time, I’d not known him well enough to call in that favor. Nor would it have been a prudent course, as Seaton and Felix were not on the best of terms. Seaton was too impulsive and rash, according to Felix. Felix was too cautious and slow to respond, according to Seaton. It was very much a clash of personalities and nothing more. I felt both men were being rather silly about it all, but far be it from me to intervene.

  In any case, ever since I’d bartered for Clint, Jules Felix had steadily crept rather firmly into our lives. Felix was enchanted by how well Clint had developed and equally curious on Jamie’s insights. It was common now for he and Jamie to have tea or lunch together on a weekly basis, comparing notes and brainstorming how best the Felix could grow in the next generation.

  “Jamie.” Felix greeted her warmly, then ducked his head at me. Clint automatically climbed into his arms, and he gave the cat a good pet, setting Clint to purring against his chest. “Davenforth. I’m so glad to catch you here, Jamie. I wanted to report success!”

  I had no idea what he might be referring to. Jamie, however, instantly lit up and came around to give him a quick hug.

  “Jules, that’s fantastic! I know you were worried how things would go. Are they alright?”

  “Yes, both beautifully healthy and well.” Jules returned the hug, blushing. He found Jamie’s manner a trifle forward sometimes.

  At least, I chose to believe that rather than thinking he held a crush for my partner. Jamie was a very attractive woman. I’d not be at all surprised if another man wished to court her. But Jules Felix would not do. He was too mild of manner for a woman like her. She’d railroad him without meaning to. That he lacked the confidence to properly ask her out on a date spoke volumes, in my book.

  Not that I was jealous. Shoving aside my irritation, I cleared my throat. “What are we discussing?”

  Pulling back, Jamie excitedly said, “The fourth generation of Felixes are born. Jules has been waffling back and forth about whether to create kittens or full-grown adults like Clint. He finally went with kittens. Jules, how many did you make this time?”

  “Just two. Male and female. I didn’t want to get more complicated than that at the moment.” Here Felix looked nervous, shifting from foot to foot. “Jamie. All things considered, I don’t think it wise for me to keep both of them and raise them.”

  Jamie blinked up at him, her expression blank. “I’m not following. I know you wanted to give me a kitten to raise, but you also said not yet. That you want to raise these two and chart their development before finding them homes? I know Queen Regina is dying to have one.”

  “Yes, I know I said that, but I’ve since changed my mind. You have so much more experience than anyone else in this world when it comes to th
ese creatures. Even myself. It’s obvious from Clint alone, as he’s much closer to my ideal of a Felix familiar. Clearly, you are better at raising them. I think it would be better if we each took one.”

  Clint chose this moment to pop his head up and demand in rising excitement, “Kitten for me?!”

  Jules blinked down at him, confused at this reaction. “You want to help her raise a kitten?”

  “Kitten!” Clint cried, practically vibrating and purring under the force of his excitement. “Please, please, please?”

  “Clint and I have been talking about kittens and other Felixes being born ever since you first came to talk to me about it,” Jamie explained to him quickly. “He’s very excited about the whole idea, but of a kitten especially. I think he feels rather alone. He’d love to have someone like him nearby, someone he can play with. The cats on Earth do alright with their own company, but they are social creatures and like playmates. I think the Felixes are the same.”

  Felix’s expression filled with understanding as he looked down at Clint. “I see. I really should have considered that. My own Felixes are very excited by the kittens as well and have barely left their side since last night. Of course, Clint, you would want companionship as well. In that case, why don’t you come and meet both of them? We can decide which one will go home with you.”

  Clint flopped against the man’s chest and purred loudly, so incandescently happy in that moment he almost vibrated out of his own fur.

  Jamie flicked over her wrist to check her watch. “We’ve got about five hours before we’re off shift. Why don’t we come after we clock out and see them? Whichever kitten seems to get along best with Clint is the one I’ll take.”

  Deeming this appropriate, Felix gave her a nod. “I’ll be home at six o’clock sharp, I promise you. Barring emergencies, of course. I’m so grateful, Jamie, truly. I do believe this is the better course.”

  Giving him a smile, she clasped his shoulder in a friendly way. “I do, too. I’ll see you shortly.”

  With another smile, Felix gave Clint back to her before finally taking his leave.

  Clint was still vibrating with excitement. “Jamie, both kittens?”

  “One kitten,” Jamie corrected him firmly.

  Clint whined up at her and tried again. “Both? Kittens are lonely.”

  “Kittens are not lonely, you rascal. They have other Felixes at Jules’ house. One kitten. And I expect you to help me raise the kitten. You have to show them how to be a field cat.”

  That diverted him successfully. “And singing!”

  I blanched at the implication. Two singing cats. Heaven preserve me.

  Clint hopped down and stole her pencil and a sheet of paper, already making a list in his careful way. “Singing first.”

  I stared at the list he wrote and sighed. There was no hope, was there?

  Jamie perhaps read the thought on my face. She gave me a hug around the shoulders even as she snickered. “It won’t be that bad, Henri.”

  “I beg to differ.” But I was already resigned, as well.

  We went back to work as Clint continued writing his list. The length of that list rather worried me. Considering the antics he somehow devised, I do believe my worry was warranted.

  Diverted by a thought, Clint’s head canted as he looked at his person. “Jamie, do Earth cats sing?”

  “Not like you mean it, no.” Jamie’s mouth quirked, as if he’d asked a very cute and amusing question. “Sometimes they sing the song of their people. But they don’t speak words like you do, so they can’t sing human songs.”

  We both looked at her askance. “Earth cats don’t talk? I know you were surprised at Clint, when you first met him, but you also say Earth cats are very talkative.”

  “Oh, they talk plenty. Just not in words. Cats on Earth say ‘meow.’ Or ‘nyah’ if you believe the Japanese. Come to think of it, I think every culture interpreted that sound differently.”

  Clint tried this out. “Meow?”

  “Something like that, yeah.” Jamie shrugged, as if this was common knowledge.

  I very much begged to differ on that score. She hadn’t said this before. But she had already resumed her paperwork, so I did the same.

  Due process warrants a rather insane amount of forms, in my humble opinion. We wrapped up the list of evidence and witness testimonies, and only lacked writing our own statements. Jamie’s Velars had improved significantly over the past months. I read over hers only to help check her spelling and grammar, as she was still learning the finer points, but she had almost reached a fluent level now. I was proud of her accomplishment. She had worked very hard to reach that point.

  “Henri? Henri Davenforth?”

  What now? No one calling my name in such an uncertain manner ever led to good tidings. Although the voice sounded familiar. I turned in my chair and blinked. “Irvine Atwood. Good heavens, man, I haven’t seen you in a tree’s age.”

  I stood immediately and offered a hand. Irvine and I had been each other’s playmates as children, often stranded together when our parents threw elaborate house parties we weren’t allowed to attend yet. He was an affable sort of chap and a casual friend. We’d not spoken much as adults, but I put that down to difference of careers. We were both deucedly busy people.

  As he shook my hand, I took the measure of him. Whatever had sent him here to see me wasn’t a casual matter. He looked rather haggard and the worse for wear. Irvine was the homely-handsome sort with thick blond hair swept back from his face, ears a trifle too large for his head, and friendly brown eyes. When in a proper suit, he looked the part of an owner for a multi-million corporation. What worried me was that unlike his usual attire, today he wore unrelieved black.

  “Henri,” he said thickly. “I don’t know where else to turn. Things have gone so wretchedly askew and—horrifying in such a short time. I don’t—I don’t know what to do.”

  I immediately sat him down, as that seemed prudent. “You’ll tell me and I’ll help you sort it. First, you know of my partner? This is Detective Jamie Edwards.”

  Irvine dropped into the chair and looked at her in a sort of dazed manner, quite unlike himself. It was then I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Had he slept at all in the past several days?

  “Detective,” he greeted, offering a hand to her. “Forgive my manners. Yes, I’ve heard of you. In fact—and this is quite bold of me—I wish to enlist your aid as well as Henri’s.”

  Jamie shot me a quick, evaluating look. “I’m not going to send him off into trouble without me, so rest easy about that.” She took a chair across from him. “Now, what’s going on?”

  His eyes darted between us. “Henri, have you heard that my parents were found dead yesterday afternoon?”

  I sucked in a startled breath at Irvine’s words. Jamie stilled beside me, already poised to take notes. I think we both instinctively knew it wouldn’t be an accidental or natural cause of death.

  “I had not,” I replied with aching sympathy. “Irvine, I’m so sorry to hear it. What happened?”

  Irvine’s hand shook as he pressed it to his forehead. “You’re aware they were in the process of selling the country estate?”

  “I’d heard something along those lines, yes.” My mother had mentioned it in passing, but I hadn’t thought anything of it.

  “The realtor was showing the house yesterday and found them. They were in a peculiar position, she said. Tied to chairs with magical restraints around their necks.” His voice was rough, eyes too bright, the words visibly difficult for him to say. “Frankly, she’s told me more than the police we called in to investigate. They went in, spent an hour or so looking about, then wrapped up the bodies and sent them off to the morgue. I was informed this morning it was a murder-suicide.” Tears stood in the man’s eyes as he looked at me. “Henri, they’re saying my father killed my mother.”

  My response was instant. “Not possible.”

  “I know! Everyone says that, but the police are
adamant. They keep saying there was no sign of forced entry, no sign of an intruder. That it has to be a murder-suicide. But it doesn’t make sense.” To Jamie, he implored, “I know you don’t know them, but Henri will tell you. My father was in terrible physical condition. He couldn’t lift more than five pounds without straining. His back was broken once in his thirties, and he healed from that, but arthritis is—was—setting in. He physically could not have lifted my mother. And he had no reason to hurt her. They were married forty-three years and were still very much in love with each other. They were true to each other in every sense.”

  Jamie tapped her pencil against the paper in front of her, eyes narrowed as her formidable intelligence turned over at high speeds, absorbing facts. “I hear you. But you’re saying, emotions aside, the logistics of this don’t make sense.”

  “None,” he choked out. “And how could they make such a ruling when the autopsy hadn’t even been performed?”

  I blinked at him, aghast. “The devil, you say!”

  “The coroner approached Gwyneth this morning to get a signature of approval to do it. The police told us their findings on the case before the man ever darkened her doorstep.” Irvine looked hopeful at our responses, clearly sensing we agreed something was afoul here. “This isn’t justice, is it? They’re not properly investigating.”

  Jamie shared a look with me that spoke volumes. Her tone fell flat with anger, a visible tic at the corner of her mouth. “They’re giving you cause of death before the coroner even does a proper examination. No, that’s not justice. That’s them being lazy and not investigating properly. I see why you’re worried. I’m not sure if we can override jurisdiction just based on that, however.”

  “We’d have to prove negligence,” I said slowly, thinking aloud. “But from the sounds of it, that might be easy to do. Irvine, clear up two points for me.”

  “Of course,” he encouraged, sitting on the edge of his seat.