Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Matthias Helvar’s life changed forever on a dark and dreary Thursday morning.

After years of hard work at the police force, he was honoured to be promoted to a detective; the cost of that promotion, however, was relocating to Ketterdam. The Ketterdam Police Department had an opening for the position, and it made logical sense to send Matthias there rather than have too many cooks spoiling the broth at his current unit.

As soon as he stepped foot in the miserable place, Matthias had realised his former colleagues’ parting words hadn’t just been friendly jests. “Ketterdam? Good luck, Helvar...you’re gonna need it. That place is cursed.”

In the week since he’d arrived, it hadn’t stopped raining. The skies were such a dense grey he feared he would never see the sun again. The apartment he’d secured was passable, and blissfully close to the police station, but there was no escaping the melancholy feeling that Ketterdam placed upon you.

Crime rates there were the highest in the country, but for Matthias that was no bad thing; he liked the challenge, and he liked to be kept busy. His work was his whole life. He’d requested to start as soon as possible, and his first day on the job arrived before he’d found the time to unpack anything more than a bed and a lamp. Instead, he’d chosen to spend the time running around trying to get a feel for the city, to learn every nook and cranny, to see what was on offer to fuel and entertain him.

His first half an hour as a detective consisted of casual introductions and a tour of the station.

“Which desk is mine?” He asked when the briefing was concluded.

His new colleague, Joran, simply shrugged. “We all just share the ones that are available. We don’t have the budget for a desk each.”

“...I see.” Matthias said.

“I wish we could give you more time to settle in, but you’re needed. Call came in about fifteen minutes ago; sounds like a nasty one, sorry. Probable homicide. Officers are already on scene.” Joran revealed, passing Matthias a handwritten address.

“Fifteen minutes? Why wasn’t I told sooner?”

“I think they, um...forgot we actually had a detective again.”

“They forgot? How long have you been waiting for a replacement?”

“A while. I guess no one wanted the job until now.”

“What happened to the last one?”

“...He quit.”

Matthias took the address, and with Joran agreeing to accompany him, they made their way out. His week exploring the city had proven fruitful enough to know he was headed for the industrial district. The carriage ride there was only a few minutes thanks to the quiet roads of the early morning, and Matthias was greeted with the graveyard of a construction site sealed off by a perimeter of officers.

Piles of rubble and rusty tools littered the floor, and a half-finished building stood shakily at the centre, a mass of crumbled brickwork and exposed metal pipes.

“How long has it been like this?” Matthias asked Joran as they approached the building together, blinking raindrops out of his eyes.

“Years and years. It was supposed to be a whole community of new housing, but the funding was pulled and the construction company went bust. No one’s touched it since.” Joran explained.

“They didn’t get very far with it.”

“It was never going to be a patch on Fjerdan architecture, anyway.” Joran said.

Matthias smiled. He’d recognised the familiar accent in Joran’s speech. “I assumed you were a fellow child of Fjerda.”

Joran laughed. “Not many of us in Ketterdam, but I welcome the company of another. Ah, here we are; Nadia will fill us in.”

Joran gestured to the officer emerging from the building and giving them a respectful nod as they joined her. Matthias saw a warmth and kindness on her face, and combined with having a fellow countryman at his side, he found his first day jitters were vanishing quickly.

“Detective Helvar, this is Officer Zhabin. Officer Zhabin, this is Detective Helvar.” Joran said.

Nadia offered Matthias her hand, and he took it. “Glad to finally have a detective on the scene again, sir.”

“I appreciate the welcome.” Matthias said. “From what I gather, I’m not in for an easy first day.”

“I’m afraid not, sir. A woman was walking her dog this morning when it ran off into this site; she gave chase and found it sniffing around the body of a deceased male. Late forties, early fifties. Large, dried bloodstain on his shirt.” Nadia revealed.

“Any idea how long he’s been dead?” Matthias asked.

“Fully developed rigor mortis but no signs of decomposition. Can’t have been more than twenty-four hours.” Nadia said.

“Thank you, Officer Zhabin.” Matthias nodded, and entered the crime scene.

The man’s body was lying on the cold, gravel floor under the only part of the building’s roof that remained intact after years of abandonment. His clothing was casual and mundane besides the dried blood on his shirt, his dark hair beginning to turn grey. As he examined the corpse, Matthias concurred with Nadia’s assessment. The only thing he hadn’t been prepared for was the look of horror on the deceased man’s face; his last moments had clearly been ones of terror.

“Can we get some more light in here?” Matthias asked.

“Here.” Joran said, lighting a small lantern and handing it to Matthias.

Matthias took it and held it over the deceased’s face for a closer look. To his surprise, the man’s skin appeared to shimmer as the light touched it. He knelt down and saw almost half of the dead man’s face was of a grey and silver pigment.

“Silver skin?” Joran said, bewildered. “Could that relate to the cause of death? Some sort of poison?”

“Possibly, but the blood seems to have come from his chest, not his head.” Matthias nodded, searching through the man’s jacket and pockets. “Empty. Nothing to identify him with.”

“Homicide?” Joran questioned.

“Undoubtedly. One look at the poor man’s face tells you that. That’s not the look of someone who was in control of his fate.” Matthias said, scanning the rest of the area with the lantern. “Nothing else of interest on the floor, the walls also look-”

His voice faltered as the light revealed some lettering written on the brickwork in blood: RACHE.

“Saints...” Joran whispered.

“Unless the victim wrote that himself and somehow managed to wash his hands before dying, someone else left us that message. Definitely murder.” Matthias noted, examining the deceased man’s clean fingers. The silver hue on his face was present on the skin of his hands, too. Matthias gently rubbed the victim’s cheek and looked at his gloved hand. It had come away clean. “This discolouration...it doesn’t appear to be any sort of paint or dye.”

“So, we have a murderer who can turn his victim’s skin silver and then uses the poor man’s blood to leave a message at the scene of the crime. We’re dealing with a psychopath.” Joran shook his head. “Quite the first case for you, sir.”

A new voice echoed through the room. “I thought you knew better than to make such bold assumptions, Joran.”

Matthias stood up and turned to see a man of a similar age to his own sporting a devilish smirk and formal attire of all black. He leant on a cane, limping into the room with two others following closely behind; a tall, outlandishly dressed man and a young woman with dark, braided hair.

Nadia hurried in after them. “Apologies, sir; they were summoned just before we remembered you started with us today. Force of habit on a case like this.”

“Who are you?” Matthias asked the trio of strangers.

“Magicians.” The tall one grinned.

“Sir, this comedian is Jesper Fahey.” Joran said, gesturing to the relevant person as he spoke. “And here we have Inej Ghafa and Kaz Brekker. Three of the Crows.”

“You really think I’m funny, Joran?” Jesper smiled.

“I said you were a comedian, I didn’t say you were funny.” Joran said.

Jesper put a hand on his heart and feigned sadness. “You wound me.”

“This is a crime scene. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Matthias stated. Messages written in blood? People calling themselves Crows? What the hell is this place?

“We’re aware it’s a crime scene. That’s why we’re here.” Kaz rolled his eyes. “The police tend to bring us in to help out on the more interesting cases.”

“To be clear, you aren’t police?” Matthias raised an eyebrow.

“I like the term consulting detectives.” Jesper raised his hand.

“That makes us sound like fairytale characters.” Inej said.

Jesper laughed. “What sort of fairytales are you reading?”

“A man has been murdered. I’d appreciate a bit more tact.” Matthias warned. Jesper mimed zipping up his lips by way of apology. “Thank you for your response to your summons, but your services will no longer be required. The Ketterdam Police Department has a detective again now. It was highly unprofessional to bring a third party into investigations such as these.”

“Actually, it was the smartest thing they could have done.” Kaz said. “The list of unsolved crimes would have been significantly longer if they hadn’t employed us on numerous occasions. Besides, we weren’t paid for our assistance. Annoyingly. We take on our own clients to make a living.”

“Like I said, your help is no longer needed. If you could please leave this investigation to the actual investigators, I would appreciate the cooperation.” Matthias said.

Kaz stared at Matthias for a moment. “...You didn’t serve in the Fjerdan army for very long, did you detective? Nowhere near as long as you’d hoped.”

Matthias had to stop himself from taking a step back as he processed the shock. He hadn’t told anyone about his time in the army. “...How did you know that?”

Kaz didn’t answer, instead moving over to inspect the body and then the bloody message on the wall. “Inej, take a look at this.”

Inej was at Kaz’s side in seconds. “...Interesting.”

“I imagine we’ve reached the same conclusion?”

“I imagine so.”

Matthias was too astounded to speak up. He wanted these rogues as far from the crime scene as possible, but he couldn’t articulate it. How did this Kaz Brekker know about his past? He watched in stunned silence as Inej scribbled some notes while Jesper stared down at the body.

“How does this mysterious Rachel fit in? There’s so many factors.” Joran sighed.

Kaz turned to him in confusion. “Rachel?”

“The message in blood. R-A-C-H-E. The killer must have been writing the name Rachel.” Joran said.

“Then why did they stop with one letter left to go?”

“They must’ve been interrupted. Maybe by the witness discovering the body this morning?”

“Joran, I implore you to try and use your brain one of these days.” Kaz said. “The victim’s clearly been dead for nearly a full day. You think the murderer killed him and then came back hours later to write the message?”

“It’s possible.” Joran shrugged.

“No, the message was written immediately after the murder.” Kaz said. “If they came back to do it later the blood would’ve been dried up and useless.”

“...That’s true.” Joran conceded.

“And they weren’t interrupted. Look at how neatly the message has been written. No signs of rushing whatsoever. They took their time, and there would’ve been enough blood to write more if they’d wanted to. This was exactly the message they intended to leave.” Inej said.

“What does rache mean, then?” Jesper wondered.

“It’s German for ‘revenge’.” Inej announced.

“I see. A premeditated killing, then?” Joran asked.

“I believe so.” Kaz said.

“And a German killer?”

“Not necessarily.” Kaz shrugged. “That might depend on the wounds the victim suffered. I’d appreciate receiving the autopsy report once it’s carried out.”

“I, um...” Joran looked to Matthias unsurely. “Sir?”

Matthias came to his senses. “I...sorry...what did you say?”

“Feeling okay there, handsome?” Jesper asked.

“Jesper.” Kaz and Inej warned in unison.

“I was just checking on the guy!”

“No flirting at a crime scene. That’s rule number one.” Inej noted.

“Fine, fine...feeling okay there, detective?” Jesper repeated.

“Detective, the smart thing to do is to let us hand over our conclusions to you and your team, and if you still insist on continuing the investigation without our help, we’ll step away. All I ask is to be kept informed of any developments; if this is our last case working with the police force, so be it, but I hate loose ends.” Kaz said sternly.

“How did you know...about the army?” Matthias asked breathlessly.

“It seems you hate loose ends too.” Kaz smirked, producing a small card from his coat and handing it to Matthias. “If you’re willing to give us the answers we want, I will return the favour. I’ll take your coming to that address at your leisure this evening to mean you accept the terms.”

“...Anything else you can come up with, Brekker?” Joran prompted, noting with concern that Matthias looked like he was about to pass out.

“Do we have an ID for him?” Kaz asked.

“I’m afraid not.” Joran said.

“Very well. As for other observations, the look on the victim’s face indicates he knew he was going to die. The gravel on the floor looks to be a consistent colour and texture; there would be abnormalities if the body had been dragged in here and the path had been covered over. The victim was definitely killed here, which would imply he came here willingly which in itself implies he knew his murderer.” Kaz said. “Also, I believe this dried blood is in fact the killer’s, not the victim’s.”

“Why?” Joran asked.

“A wound to the victim’s chest would have produced much more blood than this. The autopsy should clear it up, but I believe you’ll find there are no stab wounds or lacerations on the victim at all.” Kaz said.

“But that would mean you think the killer wrote that message in their own blood?”

“Perceptive as ever, Joran.”

“So the victim fought back and injured his attacker?”

“Possibly.” Kaz nodded. “Either way, the murder was planned. I think this rather unique graffiti, on the other hand, was done opportunistically.”

Nadia appeared around the corner. “They’re here to take the body away if you’re ready, sir?”

Everyone turned to Matthias, who’d been lost in thought again. He nodded silently, and the others watched as a stretcher and body bag were brought in. As the victim was lifted off the floor, something small fell from their person and landed in the gravel.

Matthias had begun to gather himself, and made a point of being the first to inspect the newly discovered evidence. He bent down over the object and found it to be a small silver ring. Yet more mysterious silver, he thought. “It’s a ring.”

“Did it fall off the victim’s finger?” Inej asked.

“No.” Matthias stated. “I inspected his hands earlier. I’m positive he wasn’t wearing anything on them.”

“It couldn’t have fallen out of a pocket; not from the angle they picked him up at.” Kaz said.

“So it was just loose in his clothing somewhere?” Joran said.

“It may have belonged to the killer.” Matthias said.

“I’m inclined to agree.” Kaz nodded. “They slipped up. Good.”

“It’s a woman’s silver wedding band.” Jesper said, having taken a good look for himself. “Definitely too small to fit a standard male hand. It’s a pretty outdated style and pattern, too. I’d say it’s twenty-five, thirty years old.”

“Are you sure?” Matthias asked.

Jesper smiled and held up his hands, both decorated with plenty of rings. “I know my jewellery, detective.”

Matthias hated asking these so-called Crows for more information, but they admittedly knew what they were doing, and he needed his first case as a detective to go well. “The grey, silvery patches on the victim’s skin...do you know anything about that?”

“Argyria.” Kaz said without hesitation.

“What?” Joran’s eyes widened.

“Argyria. It’s a rare condition. An over-exposure to silver or silver compounds that can turn skin a blue-ish grey.” Kaz revealed. “People who work with silver are particularly vulnerable to breathing in enough particles to be affected; mining, processing, manufacturing or construction. In even rarer cases, it’s been caused by earrings and dental work.”

Matthias nodded. “So the killer didn’t cause that?”

“That depends on the history between the murderer and the victim. There’s a possibility of a cause and effect. But no, this didn’t happen at the time of death. Argyria develops over months or years of continued exposure.” Kaz said. “We’ve established the victim knew their killer and came here of their own accord, which means this location is probably meaningful to them both.”

“And where’s there’s a construction site...” Jesper began.

“...There’s a possible cause of the victim’s argyria.” Inej finished.

“It’s certainly worth trying to identify the victim through people familiar with this site. It’s the only lead we have at the moment.” Kaz added, straightening his tie. “I believe that’s all we can gather for the time being without diving into useless theorising and speculation.”

“I hope we’ll be seeing you this evening, detective.” Inej said, glancing down at the card Matthias still gripped tightly in his hand as she walked away. With a salute and a wink, Jesper followed her.

“Enjoy your first case.” Kaz said, and departed. Matthias wasn’t sure there had been any true sincerity behind the words.

Joran let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, sir. We’ll distance ourselves from them moving forward. It’s just...they’ve proved very helpful in the past. But now we have you, so consider our business with the Crows at an end.”

“What’s their story? How long have they been around?” Matthias asked, still reeling. How did they work so much of that out so quickly?

“About two years now. Our last detective couldn’t stand them, but after he...left...we were at a bit of a loss. Nina approached us and offered the Crows’ services, and we’ve corresponded with them whenever a case has left us completely stumped. They have the means of putting us on the right track. As their own private business, they’re able to get information in ways we can’t.” Joran replied.

“Nina? I don’t remember there being a Nina.” Matthias said.

“She wasn’t here just now, no. There’s five of them in total, but they don’t always investigate as a complete team. There’s Wylan, too. Joined them just over a year ago. Really lovely guy.”

“The one with the cane...Brekker. He’s in charge?”

“That obvious, huh?” Joran nodded. “He’s quite the perplexing man. Arrogant, brash, downright disrespectful...but brilliant. I don’t mean to pry sir, but...was he right? You served in the army?”

“...I did.” Matthias admitted reluctantly. “And I’d appreciate drawing a line under that topic.”

“Of course, sir. They’d taken pictures of the scene before we arrived, but I’ll make sure we get the writing and the ring photographed.” Joran said.

“Thank you. And see if we can get the autopsy performed before the end of the day.” Matthias ordered.

“Yes, sir.” Joran said, and hurried out of sight.

Matthias stared down at the card in his hand. He wanted to tear it up and cast it aside, but what kind of detective would he be to throw away potentially vital insight into the case? He’d never even heard of argyria, but Kaz Brekker had diagnosed it immediately. There could still be more to learn. A man was dead, and he deserved justice. And I need to know how Brekker saw right through me.

It felt like he was about to make a deal with the devil, but Matthias was nonetheless prepared to walk right into hell.

...

Jesper leant back on the chair at his desk, looking at the clock on the wall. 10:13pm. “He’s not coming.”

“He’ll be here.” Kaz said, hovering by the front door of their little office on the edge of the Barrel, Ketterdam’s most infamous district.

“Are we getting paid for staying this late?” Nina wondered, sucking on one of the toffees she kept in her desk drawer and impatiently playing with her hair.

“No.”

Wylan emerged from the door at the back of the room, a tray of tea cups in his hands. “That was the last of the milk...and I can’t remember which one I put the sugar in.”

“Easy way of working it out.” Nina said, grabbing a cup as he walked by. “The one with the sugar in is the one that tastes nice.”

“I’m sweet enough already.” Jesper beamed, taking a cup for himself. “Five kruge says I’ve picked the one with sugar.”

“Jesper. Rule number two?” Inej frowned.

Jesper sighed. “No gambling at work.”

“What was he like, the new detective?” Wylan asked, placing a cup on Inej’s desk before settling down at his own.

“Nice.” Inej said.

“Naïve.” Kaz added.

“Hot.” Jesper nodded.

Kaz audibly sighed. “Jesper.”

“I was talking about the tea.” Jesper smirked and took a sip from his cup.

“He’s really going to turn down free help on a case? His first case? Moron.” Nina shook her head, checking the time herself.

“He’ll be here.” Kaz reiterated. “Inej, have you heard back from Mrs Parker?”

“Not directly. Her housekeeper said she was going to be away until Friday. Why, any developments?” Inej wondered.

“I’ve worked out the code to the safe, but that can wait until she’s back. I’m not telling that housekeeper a thing.” Kaz said.

“You still think the housekeeper is lying about the carpets?” Jesper asked.

“I don’t think, I know.” Kaz said.

The room was silenced by a knock on the door. Wylan jumped. Jesper wanted to place a bet on who their visitor would be. Nina leant forward excitedly. Inej readied her pen. Kaz smirked knowingly. He pulled the door open.

Matthias stood there, hating the lack of surprise on Brekker’s face. “How did you know?”

“Or good evening, as some people might say.” Jesper waved.

“We’ll talk in my office.” Kaz said, immediately walking towards a door on the right and vanishing through it.

Matthias followed, taking a moment to look around as he went. The interior looked close to a log cabin, untreated wooden walls and creaky floorboards. Five desks were spread around the room; two at the front where Inej and Jesper were sat, and three in a row behind them. Two strangers sat at these, who he could only assume were Wylan and Nina.

Wylan offered him a shy smile, while Nina openly checked him out. He shouldn’t have liked the clear approval on her face. You’re here as a professional, he reminded himself.

The desk next to Nina’s was empty. At least here they have desks to spare...

If he thought the main bulk of the Crows’ establishment was bare bones, Kaz’s office offered even less appeal. The walls were completely barren, with Kaz’s desk, a wooden chair, a couch and a lantern on the wall being the only things filling the space. Rain continued to pour against a small window.

Matthias closed the door behind him and sat on the couch, watching silently as Kaz wrote something at his desk. He slid the papers into a large envelope and sealed it with some wax, placing it in a drawer.

“I take it you managed to get the autopsy done as a priority case.” Kaz said.

“...I did.” Matthias confirmed. Joran was proving to be a good asset. “I waited until we had the results before I came.”

“I assumed as much.” Kaz said. “What did it conclude?”

“You first.” Matthias said. “How did you know I was in the Fjerdan army? I haven’t spoken a word about it in years.”

“You didn’t need to tell me. You showed me.”

“I showed you?”

Kaz sat back in his chair and took a deep breath, readying himself. “When I walked in, you were knelt over the body. You had a hand around your thigh; an odd placement unless you were soothing an old or repeating injury that sometimes flares up. You keep the top of your left arm unnaturally still, the sign of another old injury to your shoulder. You don’t wince or show pain when you move them, so they’ve both long healed and it’s mainly force of habit that you carry yourself in such a way. If they’re both old wounds, and you look around my age, you had to have sustained them when you were fairly young and at around the same time. What wounds could you sustain in the shoulder and thigh around the same time? Gunshot wounds. Where are you most likely to sustain gunshot wounds in multiple places in your youth? The army. How am I faring?”

“...Exactly right.” Matthias said. “They could have been stab wounds, though. I could have just been attacked.”

“The way you move corresponds more to physiotherapy exercises assigned to gunshot wounds than stab wounds. I’ve read studies on it. And if being shot in your youth didn’t put you off a job being a detective in Ketterdam, you must have been passionate about what you’d been shot in the name of. I didn’t know, but I could infer from the most common scenarios.”

“How did you know it was the Fjerdan army?”

“...You spoke, detective. Come on, be sensible.” Kaz sighed. “There are accents similar to Fjerdan, of course, but I’ve had enough conversations with your colleague Joran to recognise the distinctive vocal patterns.”

Matthias silently cursed himself. You’re an idiot, Helvar.

“Knowing you were Fjerdan made even more things clear. Fjerdans are some of the proudest people in the world, desperate and honoured to fight for their country. Drüskelle soldiers only leave the army if they have to. You’re around my age, and accounting for the years you needed to have spent training and working as an officer to make detective...you had to have left the army within a year or two of joining. Combined with your injuries, it was safe to conclude you were shot in the shoulder and thigh as a drüskelle and honourably discharged.” Kaz explained. “You still felt the need to serve, so you joined the police force. The only thing I can’t ascertain without more evidence is...why here? Why not in Fjerda?”

“I’d rather not say.”

Kaz shrugged. “We all have secrets to keep.”

“You were absolutely correct. You worked all that out from being in the same room as me for a minute or two?”

“No, I worked all that out from being in the same room as you for fifteen seconds.” Kaz said. “Your mind can do remarkable things if you’re willing to train it properly.”

“It’s...impressive.” Matthias admitted.

“Yes, it is.”

“You enjoy showing off, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“If you can do this, why not join the force yourself?” Matthias asked.

Kaz smirked. “If I can do this, I want to do it my way. Not anyone else’s. The police restrict themselves, as evidenced by how many times they call on us for help.”

“If you don’t like the police, why help them?”

“Go back ten seconds to when you were asking me about showing off.”

“Joran says you’ve been doing this for a few years now.”

“One of the only things he’s ever said that’s been correct.”

“How did it start? Why did it start? This can’t be something you just stumbled into doing.” Matthias noted.

“It wasn’t.” Kaz hesitated. “...I needed to find someone. So I taught myself how.”

“Did you find them?”

“Yes and no. And that is where this line of questioning ends, detective.” Kaz demanded. “Tell me about the autopsy.”

“...You don’t want the others to hear this?” Matthias questioned.

Kaz almost let himself smile, walking up to the door and opening it quickly, revealing the others had all be pressed against it listening intently.

“...Ah.” Jesper said. “Hello.”

“We were just...” Wylan began.

“Spying.” Kaz stated.

“Taking an interest.” Inej suggested.

Kaz waved them away, and they all returned to their desks. He followed them out and gestured for Matthias to join him back in the main room. “Since everyone’s so interested, do tell us what you know, Detective...what was your name?”

“It’s taken you this long to ask for my name?” Matthias raised an eyebrow.

“It’s never been relevant.” Kaz shrugged.

“Matthias. Detective Helvar is more appropriate.”

“What did the autopsy reveal, Detective Helvar?” Kaz asked dryly.

Matthias could tell Kaz already knew what to expect. “Not a scratch on the body. No stab wounds or lacerations of any kind...just like you thought.”

“So the blood on the shirt was the killer’s?” Nina said, having clearly been told all about the case during the day.

“That’s the logical conclusion.” Kaz nodded.

“The victim fought for his life. Good for him.” Jesper said.

“He was dead before there was any blood.” Kaz corrected.

“How do you know that?” Wylan asked.

“...I think I know.” Inej raised her hand.

Kaz looked at her for a moment. “Go on...”

“The blood was only in two spots; on the victim’s shirt and the writing on the wall. If there had been any kind of scuffle in which the killer had been injured, there would have been blood everywhere, but it was entirely localised to the victim’s chest. There was no blood anywhere else on the victim’s clothing, detective?” Inej wondered.

“No. None.” Matthias confirmed.

“Unlikely the victim would just lay there and let it happen, so he would have already been dead or unconscious. The killer let themselves bleed onto the victim and only when the bleeding stopped did they write the message.” Inej said.

“My thoughts exactly.” Kaz nodded. Inej looked delighted.

“Good job, Inej!” Jesper whispered to her.

“So, what made the killer bleed after the murder?” Nina asked.

“The rush of adrenaline and the thrill of the kill, staring down at someone they’ve long wanted dead...I believe they had a nosebleed. They let themselves bleed onto the body to deface their enemy, and then took the unexpected opportunity to further gloat by writing one final message with it. A declaration of their victory.” Kaz said. “It may be worth noting as the investigation progresses that the killer likely has high blood pressure, which would more likely put them in the same age bracket as the victim.”

“It’s definitely a personal feud. They knew each other, the construction site was likely significant to them both, the way the killer treated the body after the deed was done, writing rache on the wall...” Wylan recalled.

“Taking everything from the victim’s pockets, too. The killer truly wanted to leave them with nothing.” Kaz said.

“And to remove any evidence from the scene?” Matthias noted.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that was also the motive for it.”

“You’re making the murderer out to be rather proud of their crime.”

“You think they’re not?” Kaz raised an eyebrow. “Taking the time to declare their revenge complete with a message in their own blood? They don’t care if people knew this was murder. Instead of immediately fleeing in horror at what they’d done, they basked in it.”

“Did the autopsy find a cause of death?” Wylan asked eagerly.

“Poison.” Matthias said, looking at everyone in turn. “But I assume you’d all guessed as much?”

“The look on the guy’s face; it was a slow, painful death he would have known was happening. No quick blow to the back of the head or knife to the heart.” Jesper said.

“Besides, there were no clear marks on the body. Knowing it was murder, poison made the most sense.” Inej concurred.

“And would you like to know the victim’s name, or do you all still need a moment to be excited about the fact that he’s dead?” Matthias asked sternly.

“That’s pretty unfair.” Nina folded her arms.

“How did you identify him?” Kaz asked, unfazed by Matthias’ judgement.

“We contacted people who worked on the construction site at the time like you suggested. They all identified him as Enoch Drebber, founder of Stadwatch Construction.” Matthias announced.

“The company that were building the housing development on that site?” Inej wondered.

“The very same. We couldn’t find anyone beyond a few builders who’d been contracted for the work just before everything shut down, so they didn’t know much for certain.”

“But the location of the murder is significant to the victim, and likely the killer too.” Kaz said.

“The people we spoke to said Drebber developing argyria was the reason given for the investors pulling the funding for the construction work, which led to Stadwatch Construction’s downfall. They always suspected there was more to it and something got covered up.” Matthias said. “Anything else you’ve come up with since this morning?”

“Thinking on it, I’m certain the killer isn’t German. The overall typography of the lettering of RACHE, particularly the A, isn’t consistent with German writing.” Kaz said.

“So we’re looking for someone likely to be a similar age to the victim with high blood pressure and knowledge of other languages.” Matthias said.

“I believe so. I would imagine them being well educated or well-travelled.” Kaz agreed. “Also, irrefutably linked to the events with Stadwatch Construction.”

“It’s strange. The argyria, the loss of the construction job and his whole company...you’d be forgiven for thinking Enoch Drebber would be the one seeking the revenge, not the one murdered in the name of it.” Inej said.

“We don’t know all the facts yet.” Nina noted. “We may call them victims, but that doesn’t mean they’re innocent.”

“I feel like things are starting to come together, but there’s still some stuff that I can’t imagine fitting in. The woman’s wedding ring you found? How does that tie in?” Wylan asked.

“If that belongs to the killer, and I think it does, it might be the key to finding who did this.” Kaz said, turning to Matthias. “We’ll let you go, detective. I appreciate you keeping us in the loop.”

Matthias nodded. “It’s only right given your assistance, but I would like to make it clear-”

“-That it won’t be happening again. I know.” Kaz said. “I look forward to focusing more of our time on cases that earn us a wage.”

“And I’m sure you’ll be happy to be rid of our help, detective, given how excited we are about this death.” Nina said pointedly.

“...I apologise for that remark.” Matthias said quietly.

“I’ll let you know when or if the apology is accepted.” Nina smiled. “Goodnight, detective.”

The others looked at each other silently, wondering how to break the tension.

“Uh...goodnight.” Matthias said, quickly taking his leave and disappearing into the wind and rain outside.

“If he’d started by saying he had an identification instead of making such an awful generalisation-” Nina began angrily.

“-He’s had a long and hard first day, Nina. I’m sure he’s just tired.” Inej said.

“I’m tired too! You don’t see me getting all cranky about it!” Nina exclaimed.

Jesper smirked. “This isn’t cranky?”

“Jesper, you’re supposed to be on my side.” Nina said. “Why are all the attractive men massive pricks?”

“I must be the exception to the rule.” Jesper said under his breath.

“We should all get some rest.” Kaz said, swearing to wait a long while before asking everyone to work late again. “I’ll close up. See you all tomorrow.”

He retreated into his office and sat at his desk for a while, closing his eyes and going over the case in his head. There still so many unknowns, and yet his gut told him it would only take one major breakthrough for everything to make sense.

Suddenly, he felt a presence at the door. He opened his eyes to find Inej stood there. “I thought you’d gone home.”

“Sorry, I just thought I’d wash up the tea cups before I went. I’ve, um...I’ve been thinking about the ring. I think it belongs to the killer too, so...it could be worth using it to set a trap?” Inej suggested.

Kaz nodded. “You read my mind, and if this was our investigation I wouldn’t hesitate. I imagine Detective Helvar would have something to say if we acted of our own accord any further.”

“That’s true.” Inej sighed.

“I believe our side of the bargain was to present our initial findings at the scene and leave the rest to him. We have to let him come to us.” Kaz said.

“Do you think he will?”

“No doubt in my mind.” Kaz said, producing the envelope he’d sealed when he first brought Matthias into his office.

“What’s that?” Inej asked.

“A prediction.” Kaz smirked. “I think tomorrow will be a very interesting day.”

...

The following morning, Matthias woke up early as usual and went through his regular workout. He had breakfast, and as he was eating caught himself thinking about how settled he was suddenly feeling. Ketterdam still had an unnerving aura wherever you went, but his first day of work had been physically and mentally stimulating. As far as he could tell, there would be no end to the hard work; exactly what he’d been hoping for.

The death of Enoch Drebber was the most mysterious case he’d ever come across, and he’d tossed and turned throughout the night trying to see if he could piece anything together. Why write the message in German? Who did the ring belong to? Did Drebber have an inkling he would be going to his death that night? Was the downfall of Stadwatch Construction really one big cover up?

Despite the challenges of the investigation, that first day had brought to light an incredible amount of information, and Matthias was sure it would continue to progress well. Thanks to the Crows...

He couldn’t escape that fact. He wouldn’t have known half as much as he did without Brekker and his team. The victim would have been identified and the significance of the murder’s location would have come to light, but the Crows’ insight into how the killer’s mind worked to the point where they had a detailed character profile of them was unbelievable.

He felt guilty for judging them in the heat of the moment. It was a passion for the work that they were showing, not a passion for someone’s death. Even now, as he stood reflecting on yesterday’s events, he couldn’t deny the thrill that had come over him in working things out. He’d been somewhat of a hypocrite, and he had every intention of updating them on the case whenever he could to make things right. If looks could kill, the way Nina had glared at him would have proven a fatal blow.

Matthias wondered if he could train his mind to observe and deduce the way Kaz could. The rest of his team seemed to be honing the craft themselves. Maybe he could ask them to coach him? He completely understood why the Ketterdam Police Department had relied on them so heavily. Why am I so adamant we won’t need them anymore?

He knew the answer. Pride.

He wanted to be the one to unravel the tangled thread of murder and deceit in Ketterdam. He wanted to prove coming to Ketterdam and changing his whole life to be a detective had been worth it. But why should his pride matter when it came to saving lives, avenging wrongdoings and catching criminals? He would be actively trying to prevent crimes being solved. How on earth could he be proud of that?

He wondered how many cases the Crows had tackled over the last few years. What extraordinary feats had they accomplished? He hoped they might share some of their stories with him. They were a bizarre group of people, but he didn’t want to imagine what Ketterdam might look like without them.

Why call themselves the Crows? He’d seen the sign outside their office: CROW CONSULTATIONS. How much of a reputation did they have? Were any of their cases left unsolved? Who was Kaz Brekker looking for? It was someone he wanted to find so desperately he dedicated his entire livelihood and four employees to the cause. Matthias wanted all of those answers and more.

He was so lost in his thoughts he barely had any time to get dressed and go to work, but he managed to get there just in time. He feared his intrigue over that band of brilliant strangers would linger within him for a very long while.

Once again there weren’t any spare desks for him, so he hovered by a blackboard where all the evidence regarding the case had been compiled. Was Enoch Drebber lured to that construction site, or did he initiate the meeting that would end his life?

“Sir!” Joran was suddenly at his side. “We’ve had officers continue searching for anything the killer may have taken from Drebber’s person. They’ve just found his wallet, a key and other documentation dumped in a bin six blocks from the construction site.”

“Excellent. Are they being brought here?” Matthias asked.

“Yes, sir. They should be with us in a few minutes.”

Before long, Matthias had Drebber’s items on a table for him to examine. The documentation provided a few additional details; he was aged forty-six, born in Kerch, had his address listed as a residence in Germany and had returned to the country on the very day he was killed, stating he was visiting for business reasons. His wallet appeared untouched and still full of kruge. The key was traced to a local Ketterdam hotel room.

Furthermore, a search of the hotel room he was staying at found his suitcase laying open on the bed, half of his clothes still inside and rest packed away in the wardrobe and drawers. Curiously, some of the clothes in the wardrobe were damp.

“What’s the next course of action, sir?” Joran wondered.

“What do you think we should do?” Matthias asked, knowing exactly what answer to expect.

“Um...I don’t think you’d agree, sir.”

“You want to go back to the Crows?”

“...They’ve proved valuable to the investigation, sir.”

“I agree.”

“...You do?”

“We still need to make an effort of our own, but I suggest that if they want to help us, we should let them.” Matthias said. “And I think there’s one thing in particular they can help me with.”

“What?” Joran asked.

“There’s one thing that still feels so out of place...the ring. So out of place it can’t possibly have been the plan to leave it on the body. I agree that it belongs to the killer, and I think it might be just the thing to lure them out.” Matthias said.

“You want to set a trap?”

“Very much so.”

“And you want the Crows to help?”

“Very much so.”

Joran couldn’t hold back a smile. “If I may say so, sir...that’s their forte.”

They didn’t hesitate to head to Crow Consultations, and Matthias wasn’t sure if it was reality or imagination, but the rain didn’t seem to be pouring quite so heavily as it once did. They quickly explained everything about the discovery of Drebber’s belongings and the findings in his hotel room.

“More evidence that this was a personal matter if the killer didn’t see the need to take the money from his wallet.” Kaz observed. “And if Drebber didn’t even finish unpacking before turning up dead, the killer must have been tracking him closely and didn’t hesitate to strike. They interrupted him almost immediately after he arrived at the hotel and took him to the construction site.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Matthias said.

“The wet clothes in the wardrobe are puzzling. Drebber’s room at the hotel...what floor was it on?” Kaz questioned.

“Third.” Joran replied.

“Did it face the front or back of the building?”

“The front.”

“Good. I’d recommend securing a list of names of every guest staying at the hotel on the day of the murder. Eliminate any long-term inhabitants and add any staff who may have joined in the last week. The name or alias of the killer will be among them.” Kaz declared.

“How do you know that?” Joran asked.

Kaz rolled his eyes. “Common sense. The hotel isn’t attached to the buildings either side of it, leaving it far too dangerous to climb to a third floor room and get in through the window. If you don’t fall to your death, you’re almost certainly going to be seen. Even at night, guests in plenty of rooms on the lower floors would be able to spot and report someone ascending the building from the outside. The stairs to reach the rooms are behind a locked door, the key for which you receive upon checking in. The only people who could reasonably access Drebber’s room and interrupt him unpacking, therefore, are the hotel’s staff and guests.”

“Sounds like the net is closing in!” Nina noted.

“Get to the hotel and get that list of names.” Matthias turned to Joran.

“Right away, sir.” Joran said.

“And find out who was working at the reception desk when Drebber checked in. Get any information you can from them about Drebber and anyone who arrived around the same time, no matter how insignificant it might seem.” Matthias added.

Joran nodded and headed out.

“I appreciate you following my recommendation. I understand this is your investigation.” Kaz said.

Matthias shook his head. “It’s our investigation, and I would like to ask a favour of any one of you.”

“I’m up for anything.” Jesper smirked.

“I need someone to go and place an advertisement in the evening newspaper.” Matthias said.

“Saying what?” Wylan asked.

“That you’ve found a woman’s silver wedding band on the street close to the construction site, and if anyone believes it may belong to them to contact you and arrange a meeting in a neutral location.”

Kaz and Inej shared a look. Setting a trap...

Matthias frowned. “What?”

“You’re thinking like a Crow, detective.” Kaz said, his face unreadable.

...

Inej immediately set out to place the advertisement in the paper, while Kaz announced his departure to carry out some research at the library. Matthias had realised, with a small amount of surprise, that he’d sat himself at the unclaimed desk while he’d flicked through the pages of notes he’d made on the case.

Nina suddenly appeared, aggressively placing a cup of tea down before him.

“Did you deduce how I liked it?” Matthias attempted a light chuckle.

“No.” Nina said, walking away.

“...Thank you.” He called out after her. She vanished into the back room.

Jesper sat up on his desk, shooting Matthias a wide grin. “I think she likes you.”

“Has she poisoned this drink?” Matthias asked, sniffing the tea nervously.

“I doubt it. At most, she’s put some salt in it. I’m afraid that if it is poisoned, we’d all have to cover up your untimely death. Us Crows stick together.” Jesper said.

“Understood.” Matthias sighed.

“I have to know...why the hell did you move to Ketterdam? Willingly?”

“It was a challenge. And one of the conditions of my promotion.”

“I’d have turned it down, especially after that last bloke got his brains blown out.” Jesper shrugged.

“...He what?” Matthias went pale.

Wylan was finally distracted enough by the conversation to turn from his desk and look at Jesper. “You couldn’t have put it more delicately?”

“No point sugar coating it, especially if the man’s got salt in his tea.” Jesper said.

“I was told the last detective left.” Matthias noted.

“He did leave. This mortal coil. This plain of existence.”

“What happened?”

“He was gunned down in the street. That’s all anyone knows for sure.” Wylan revealed. “The police gave up on the investigation incredibly quickly. His wife came to us for help, but the next day she disappeared off the face of the earth. We took it as a warning.”

“It’s no wonder it took so long to find a replacement.” Jesper said. “...But I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Definitely!” Wylan added with a ferocious nod.

“I appreciate it.” Matthias lied, taking a sip of tea and wincing.

“Salt?” Jesper asked.

“Salt.” Matthias sighed.

“Wylan, make Detective Helvar another tea, would you? I’ll have a coffee, thanks.” Jesper said.

“I’ve got to cross-reference these witness statements before lunch. You’re just sitting there. Why can’t you do it?” Wylan asked.

“Because you’re the newest.” Jesper smiled.

“I’ve been here over a year!”

“Still the newest!”

Wylan angrily relented, standing up and walking off.

Jesper beamed. “He’s so easy to wind up.”

“You’re getting salt in your coffee.” Matthias said.

“Nah, Wylan wouldn’t do that. He’s too nice for his own good.” Jesper said.

“You lot seem busy. Mostly.”

“We’ve made quite a name for ourselves. I can’t say I ever pictured doing something like this, but I’m not mad about it. The danger, the thrills...I shouldn’t love it, but I do.”

“How did you all find yourselves here?”

“Kaz found us, if anything.”

Matthias thought back to Kaz crashing the crime scene the previous day. Feels like months ago. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“I have no doubt the pay is better there, but this seems to suit you. Setting traps, mastering the art of deduction...Kaz has been meaning to fill that empty desk. And there you sit.” Jesper noted.

Matthias chuckled. “There’s not enough leg room.”

“Preaching to the choir there, my friend.” Jesper laughed.

Matthias chose not to correct him. Detective Helvar, not friend. We’ve only just met. And yet it still felt right somehow. He returned his attention to his notes.

Wylan appeared with a tray of drinks, Nina hovering just behind. He handed Matthias and Jesper their cups in turn.

“I spat in that.” Wylan said as Jesper went to take a sip of coffee.

“All the more reason to drink up.” Jesper grinned. “Extra flavour.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“-ly handsome?”

Wylan blushed. “In your dreams.”

“My dream came true.” Jesper winked, taking a big swig and immediately spitting it out. “You bastard!”

“It’s just a bit of salt.” Wylan shrugged with a satisfied smile. “Extra flavour.”

“Why do we even have salt here?” Jesper shook his head.

Matthias tentatively raised the tea to his lips, quickly satisfied that it hadn’t been sabotaged this time.

“I take it you’re hoping to draw the killer out under false pretences with the newspaper advert?” Nina speculated as she sat back down at her desk.

“That’s the plan.” Matthias said. “I can’t really see how the ring fits into the narrative unless it belongs to the murderer.”

“I agree.” Nina said somewhat reluctantly. “We know for a fact the killer dumped all the belongings the victim had on their person. If the ring belonged to Drebber, it would’ve gone in the bin with the rest of his stuff.”

“That only leaves us with, say, a thousand questions left to answer?” Jesper said. “Could be worse.”

Twenty minutes later, Inej returned and confirmed the advertisement would be placed in the evening newspaper as instructed. She’d used a false name alongside her contact details just in case anyone was familiar with her line of work.

Not long after that, Kaz returned with pages of his own handwritten notes, and it suddenly occurred to Matthias that, unlike his colleagues, he’d never seen Brekker remove his gloves.

“Did you find anything of interest?” Inej wondered.

“Of interest? Yes. Of relevance? We’ll see. It will likely depend on how well Joran followed Detective Helvar’s instructions.” Kaz said.

As if he’d been magically summoned, Joran knocked on the door moments later with his own stack of papers. “The list you asked for, sir, and any notes I took down when interviewing the receptionist. She believes she recalls Drebber leaving with another man mere minutes after his arrival, which she found surprising, but thought nothing more of it since it didn’t seem to be overly antagonistic.”

“Thank you. Good work.” Matthias said, deciding not to speak up when Kaz snatched the list and notes from his hands and started skimming through them. He looked up at the clock on the wall. “They kept you waiting a while.”

“It took time for the staff to compile the list amongst their other duties, sir. And the receptionist was more than cooperative with her answers to my questions. Also...” Joran trailed off.

“Also?” Matthias prompted.

“Well, I expected you to be back at the police station, sir. When I was told you hadn’t returned all day, I realised you must have still been here.”

Matthias felt a wave of embarrassment flood through him. “Oh...yes. I probably should have...yes. I don’t know why I felt the need to...apologies for wasting your time, officer.”

“No problem, sir. I understand.” Joran nodded.

“In his defence, we’re excellent company.” Jesper said.

“We should really be getting back.” Matthias announced, getting up from his desk – the spare desk, that is – and brushing himself off. “Brekker?”

Kaz stopped flicking through Joran’s papers and looked up, fire in his eyes.

“His scheming face.” Inej whispered to Jesper, who nodded.

“Brekker?” Matthias repeated. “Anything to gain from the notes? Or the list?”

“I’d prefer not to lead anyone astray, detective, but tomorrow I will know for sure if I’ve put the pieces of this puzzle together correctly. Until then, we shall bid you farewell. We’ll be in touch if we receive a reply from the newspaper advertisement.” Kaz said, pulling a smaller scrap of paper from his coat and writing a brief note. “Inej, can you get this to the cab office and return with a reply as soon as possible?”

“Consider it done.” She said, taking the note and leaving without delay.

“She delivers all our notes. She’s a speedy little thing.” Jesper told Matthias proudly.

“I believe all we can do now is wait.” Kaz said.

“I’d appreciate a little more information.” Matthias noted.

“You’ll have everything I know and more tomorrow. I can promise you that.” Kaz stated.

Matthias couldn’t help but be reassured by the sheer confidence radiating from Kaz Brekker. “...Very well. I’ll await any correspondence from you. Let’s report back to the station, officer.”

“Yes, sir.” Joran said, heading out the door. “Good evening, everyone.”

“Thank you for the tea.” Matthias turned to Wylan as he went to follow.

“You’re very welcome.” Nina said bluntly.

“Definitely likes you.” Jesper whispered, patting Matthias on the back and waving him off.

“Do you know who did it?” Wylan asked Kaz.

“I know who probably did it.” Kaz said. “Tomorrow, the case of Enoch Drebber comes to a close.”

...

As soon as Matthias arrived at work the next morning, he had a message waiting for him on the blackboard detailing the investigation so far.

Detective Helvar,

Received a response from advertisement last night. Meeting arranged for six o’clock this evening at the local park.

Come to Crow Consultations ASAP.

- K.B.

Without hesitation he made his way over and, to his surprise, found the Crows all stood outside. Kaz looked dressed for a long journey, a large suitcase at his side.

“Detective Helvar, good. I was afraid you would miss it. My cab is due any time now.” Kaz said, walking a few buildings down the street.

“Where are you going?” Matthias asked.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“He hasn’t told us either.” Wylan sighed.

“Here it is.” Kaz announced at the sight of the carriage appearing around the corner and slowly coming to a stop at his feet. The others watched on in bemusement.

The cab driver, a tall, broad-shouldered man, hopped down from the carriage and opened the door. “Mr Ivanovski?”

“That’s me!” Kaz announced in a voice highly unlike his own. “Mr Hope, correct?”

“Yes, sir. The woman at the office said you requested me personally for your trip today?” The driver said.

“Indeed I did! You came highly recommended. My friend was very complimentary of your skills with the carriage; I have a bad leg, you see, and the slightest bump causes me the greatest pain. My friend told me their journey with you was smooth sailing all the way!” Kaz exclaimed. “That’s the driver for me!”

“I try my best, Mr Ivanovski.” The driver nodded. “Where are you headed today?”

“All over the place, Mr Hope! I’m a sculptor by trade; I want to see all the sights of Ketterdam and won’t stop until something inspires me! I imagine I’ll be in need of your services all day, if you don’t mind working late? I’ll be finished by eight o’clock this evening at the very latest.”

The driver’s face fell. “Ah, well...I can drive you most of the day, sir, but I have an appointment at six o’clock that I must keep.”

“Six o’clock you say? Very well, very well...” Kaz screeched. “I’ll have you in my employ until then. Will you load my suitcase for me, Mr Hope? My bad leg, you see...”

“Of course. No trouble.” The driver nodded, holding out his arms.

Kaz immediately dropped the act, standing up straight and producing a pair of handcuffs from his coat. He secured them around the driver’s hands before anyone realised what was happening. The driver looked at Kaz in complete shock.

“Arrest this man, Detective Helvar.” Kaz called out to Matthias.

“Why?” Matthias asked.

“This is Jefferson Hope.” Kaz revealed. “The man who murdered Enoch Drebber.”

...

Jefferson didn’t run or fight or protest in the slightest during or after his arrest, calmly accompanying Matthias to the police station. He was left alone in the interrogation room for a short period while the others worked out a plan of action.

“He’ll tell you everything.” Kaz said. “Like we established, he’s proud of what he did.”

“Not proud enough to turn himself in.” Matthias noted.

“He’s proud, not an idiot. Getting away with it would’ve been an additional victory.”

“How did you know it was him? How did you work it all out?” Matthias wondered.

“I’ll explain once Jefferson Hope does.”

“No, I want to know now. You’re coming in there with me when I talk to him.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” Kaz smirked. “I could only work out enough to know Hope killed Drebber, but I don’t know everything. I look forward to him filling in the gaps.”

Joran watched Jefferson through the window. “I don’t understand any of it. How did it all come together for you, Brekker?”

“Your work at the hotel was instrumental, Joran.” Kaz noted. Even if you’re a moron.

Joran looked immensely proud of himself, and Matthias felt happy for his fellow Fjerdan.

“Let’s wrap this up.” Matthias said, looking at Jefferson with concern. “He’s not looking too well.”

Matthias and Kaz entered the interrogation room together, sitting opposite Jefferson at the wooden table in the middle.

“Mr Jefferson Hope, I’m Detective Matthias Helvar and this is Kaz Brekker.” Matthias announced to him.

“Not Mr Ivanovski.” Jefferson noted. “It was well played, putting on an act and giving an address a few doors down from your little establishment.”

“I didn’t think you’d have come if you had my actual address.” Kaz said.

“You’d be right to think so.” Jefferson said. “Go on then. Ask me what you want to know. I don’t have anything to lose. I’m a dead man walking.”

“How so?” Matthias asked.

“Aneurysm. In my heart. I could drop dead at any time.”

“We’d better hurry along then.” Kaz noted.

Matthias ignored Brekker’s callous remark. “Start from the beginning, Mr Hope. How did you know Enoch Drebber?”

Jefferson chuckled lightly, gesturing to Kaz. “Ask your clever friend here. He clearly knows about me.”

“I do, but let’s not overcomplicate things.” Kaz said. “Just answer the detective’s questions.”

“Drebber came to us with a grand proposal. His company Stadwatch Construction had secured the contract for a new housing development in the heart of Ketterdam; a bright, shining community. Homes for the homeless. He had materials at the ready. He had investors desperate to make themselves look good by funding Ketterdam’s future. He wanted us to design it.” Jefferson said.

“Us? Who’s us?” Matthias wondered.

“Me and my wife, Lucy. We were both architects. We met at the same company and worked our way to the top. When we got married, we started our own firm. We were the newest company in the city, which meant we came with the lowest fee.”

“So you design the development for Drebber, it gets his seal of approval and construction work begins?” Matthias said.

Jefferson nodded. “It seemed like a dream at first. It quickly became a nightmare. Drebber was showing his face less and less, and eventually came to us with the truth behind his disappearance; his skin had started to turn blotches of grey and silver.”

“Argyria.” Matthias noted.

“I’m impressed you’ve heard of it.” Jefferson said. “We pressured him for answers, and he eventually relented. He admitted that most of the materials for the project had been stolen, and he was part of a team of people mining and smelting the silver themselves to make it easier to smuggle into the country. I want to make it clear; Enoch Drebber had the money and investment to purchase as many materials as he needed legally, but he was a stingy crook.”

“What did you do then?”

“We made him swear the materials weren’t dodgy or unstable and that he’d stop illegally obtaining them from that point on. And he did swear. On my life, he said. Just over a week later, we were inspecting the site when part of the structure of the building we were constructing caved in. The whole thing collapsed and...” Jefferson went silent. He looked down, holding back tears.

“What happened, Jefferson?” Matthias asked gently.

Jefferson took a deep breath and gathered himself. “...Lucy was killed instantly. Crushed by the falling rubble.”

“...I’m sorry for your loss.” Matthias said.

“Thank you, detective. I appreciate that.” Jefferson dried his eyes. “I was badly injured myself. In a coma for two weeks. When I came to, I realised just how much of a weasel Enoch Drebber was. The collapse had been reported in the papers as ‘an unfortunate accident, but no one was harmed’. Investors had backed out of the development because they needed to ‘reevaluate the risks and start the project over’ after the founder of Stadwatch Construction had developed a ‘skin condition’. No mention of Lucy whatsoever. No justice for what happened to her. Drebber had used all the money he had left to pay off anyone and everyone who had the slightest inkling of what happened to keep their mouths shut; first responders, workers, eyewitnesses...they’d all be threatened with legal action or violence if they spoke up. I tried and tried to get people to defy him, but no one listened.”

“They had no explanation for what happened to your wife?”

“I was presented with a letter supposedly written by her while I was unconscious, but it wasn’t her handwriting. Apparently, she got cold feet after the accident and decided to abandon her career - and abandon me - and begged me not to find her. She’d even included her wedding ring with the letter to show how much she meant it; that was the tiny scrap of humanity Drebber had inside him, leaving me something to remember her by.” Jefferson explained. “I know what I saw. I saw what...what was left of her. I don’t know what they did with her body. Buried somewhere remote or thrown in the ocean...I’ll never know.”

Matthias sensed Kaz’s entire body tense up beside him. “...What happened next?”

“Stadwatch Construction collapsed pretty soon after that. I swore to make Drebber pay for what he’d taken from me. My wife and my livelihood gone...I had nothing else to drive me. I kept tabs on him wherever he went, always making sure he knew I was there watching, waiting for an opportunity. He started making sure he was never alone, and eventually fled the country altogether.” Jefferson said. “But I wasn’t far behind. Whatever ship he sailed on, whatever train he took...I was there. I pursued him all over the world; from Ireland to America and all throughout Ravka. Eventually, he settled in Germany and gave me the slip, but I knew in my gut he was still there, and so I stayed too.”

“What did you do there?”

“I tried to let myself live something of a life. I made friends. I learnt the language. I got a job as a janitor at a university. A clean slate. For nearly two decades I slipped back into normalcy, and to my shame let my grief and thirst for vengeance subside despite keeping Lucy’s ring in my coat pocket every day.”

“What changed?”

“My health took a turn for the worse, and doctors told me about my aneurysm. They gave me about a year, and that was nine months ago. All that rage came flooding back; the need for justice. I was running out of time. I was furious with myself for letting Drebber get away with it for all those years, but that had to stop. I would stop at nothing until Enoch Drebber suffered for what he did.” Jefferson revealed. “Even if I ended up killing him and got caught, it didn’t matter; I didn’t have long left anyway.”

“And you found him.” Matthias said.

“I got myself ready first. I’d once overheard a lecturer at the university talking about poisons, showing off this small vial of liquid that came from a deadly plant in Shu Han. Ingesting even the slightest amount of it meant a slow, painful death. I swiped the vial when I cleaned his classroom, and with my travelling and studying I learnt to dispense the poison into a small, soluble pill. I made another pill without the poison, and with that I had in my possession one final game to play with the devil.” Jefferson explained. “With more travelling all over Germany asking after Drebber, I finally found someone who knew him, and as fate would have it...he was planning to return to Ketterdam in a week or so, deciding it had been long enough to scope out a return for Stadwatch Construction. I refused to let him see it through. I had to act fast.”

“With that information, you knew you could return to Ketterdam and prepare.” Kaz noted.

“Exactly. Within three days, I was back in the place where I’d lost everything. I wondered how I could know for sure when Drebber returned. How could I linger endlessly at the harbour, examining every new arrival until I spotted him?” Jefferson questioned.

“You could become a cab driver.” Kaz said.

Jefferson nodded. “I could wait by the harbour under the pretence of waiting for a passenger for as long as I needed. I applied for a position and received a carriage without much effort. I was at the harbour every day for five days, until one stormy night my patience was rewarded.”

“Where had you been staying during this?” Matthias asked.

“I still had many friends in Ketterdam. I would stay with each of them for one or two nights at most in case they sensed what I’d returned to do.” Jefferson said. “As luck would have it, Drebber entered my cab. I disguised my voice and hoped my beard and age would maintain my cover, and that vile man was none the wiser to my identity. He asked to be taken to the hotel, and I obliged. He paid me the fare when we reached our destination and headed inside. By this point, I had procured a gun – an easy feat in Ketterdam – and after waiting for a minute or two I followed him inside and checked in as a guest for the night.”

“How did you know where to find Drebber?” Kaz questioned.

“When the receptionist turned her back to procure my key, I took a glance at her records; naturally, her latest entry in the book had been Drebber’s check-in information. I took my keys, unlocked the door leading to the guest rooms and made my way to the third floor. Drebber was still unpacking when I knocked on the door; he opened it and realised his mistake the second I drew my gun on him.” Jefferson recalled. “The look on his face when he recognised who I was after all that time...it was the happiest I’d been in twenty years.”

Matthias leant forward, completely engrossed in the story. “What did you do then?”

“I told him that this night would be the end of the horrific ordeal once and for all, one way or the other. I demanded it end where it all began; the construction site, still untouched after so very long. The place where my Lucy’s ghost must still haunt. I swore to him that her spirit would soon be kept company by one of ours. Drebber refused of course, but he quickly relented when he had a gun to his head. It had been raining, and I hoped the receptionist may think of me to be a different person if I changed, so I stuffed my raincoat into the wardrobe amongst some of his own clothing and we departed together.”

“So you sneak into the construction site, and find yourselves stood in the last remaining structure there.” Matthias said.

“Correct. I made him kneel and produced the two pills I’d made, placing them both in front of him. I explained that one pill was harmless and one was poisoned, and forced him to choose one to swallow with the promise that I would swallow the other. Either I watched him die, or my suffering would finally be at an end and he would be scarred for the rest of his days. I truly did not care which fate I had in store for me.” Jefferson continued. “I made it clear that I’d just shoot him if he refused, and on a whim he made his decision and swallowed a pill. True to my word, I swallowed the other. Within seconds, as his body began to burn from the inside, it was clear which of us would die that day. The fear and horror on his face as he stumbled backwards and expired gave me more pleasure than I could describe to you.”

“And then came the blood...” Kaz said.

“Oh, you are very good.” Jefferson said. “The pure elation I felt leaning over Enoch Drebber as he died, the thumping of my heart...I had a nosebleed. I suffered from them often. The blood dripped down my face and onto Drebber’s shirt as I leant over him. I waited until it passed, watching the small pool of blood form on his chest. What possessed me in that moment, I don’t know, but I wanted to shout from the rooftops that Enoch Drebber was no more. I wanted the whole world to know he’d suffered. Justice had been done. I dipped my finger into the blood and wrote the first thing that came to mind on the wall.”

“Rache. German for revenge.” Matthias stated.

“It just felt...appropriate. We’d both spent nearly half our lives in Germany, after all. I’d read that word over and over in dictionaries and books and promised myself…one day. One day. It was liberating. Freeing. Final. My work was complete at last.” Jefferson recounted. “I stayed there for some time, staring at the corpse with glee until the blood on my face and hands had dried. Then, I took everything out of his pockets that I could find; I wanted to rob him of everything the way he stole everything from me. I wanted him to be an empty shell. With one last look, I turned my back on Enoch Drebber for the last time. I kept walking, eventually stopping to dump Drebber’s belongings in whatever bin was closest to me at the time. The rain had washed the dried blood away enough that I didn’t arouse suspicion upon returning to the hotel. I checked out the next morning.”

“Then what?”

“I wondered whether I should run, but I didn’t care to. My purpose had been fulfilled. If you found me, you found me. I could die happy knowing I’d avenged what I had lost. All I could do was go about my life normally and see what did or didn’t happen. I decided to stick with cab driving to earn enough to get a place of my own or perhaps return to Germany. It was only when I read about the discovery of the body in the paper that it suddenly hit me. An awful, guttural blow.” Jefferson said. “...The ring. Lucy’s ring. It was gone. It must have slipped out of my pocket when I was bleeding over Drebber, or when I was emptying his pockets.”

“You were scared of leaving behind such damning evidence?” Kaz asked.

“Not at all. I’ve told you; I didn’t care what happened to me at that point. I didn’t care about getting caught. I just wanted that last tie to my beloved back. I’d given up hope, certain the police would have it locked away somewhere, but then I saw the advertisement in the evening paper yesterday. What a stroke of luck, I thought! Maybe I’d dropped it leaving the construction site after all! Alas, this was evidently not the case, but I had to take the chance.” Jefferson revealed. “I responded to the advertisement stating I would meet them at the park at six o’clock the following evening, and went to work this morning only to be told a Mr Ivanovski had specifically requested me as his driver. I made my way to the address, and as you are all too aware, I was met with my arrest instead. And that, detective, is my tale.”

“An incredibly interesting tale, too.” Kaz said. “One of the most fascinating cases I’ve worked on in recent memory.”

“May I ask...how did you find me?” Jefferson asked. There was no hatred or malice or bitterness in his voice, only mere interest.

“Once we had identified Enoch Drebber, which proved inevitable given the discovery of his belongings that you dumped, it was clear the location of his death was significant. We’d established he’d gone there of his own free will – or, as it turns out, because he was left with little choice – and his killer likely had a connection to the construction site too.” Kaz began. “I went to the library to look at the archive of old newspapers, and I came across the one you described to us before. It named you, Jefferson Hope, as the architect of the project, and stated you were recovering in hospital from the accident. Several others were named, of course, and I kept them all in mind until I glanced at the list of guests staying at the hotel on the day of the murder provided by Detective Helvar’s colleague. On that list, checking in immediately after Drebber – only two minutes later, in fact - was Jefferson Hope. Luckily for us, you never saw a need to hide your identity since you didn’t care about facing the consequences of that night.”

“I see.” Jefferson nodded.

“So, we had you placed in the same location where Drebber was last seen alive, and a search of his hotel room showed he’d clearly been interrupted in the middle of packing, which one assumes is the first thing someone does when they arrive. With your arrival but two minutes after him, the timing worked perfectly. But how did you know Drebber would be at that exact hotel at that exact time?”

“I was just going to ask about that myself.” Jefferson said.

“I wasn’t sure either, but Detective Helvar’s colleague had also interviewed the receptionist working at the time and took notes of everything she revealed, no matter how little.” Kaz explained. “She of course recalled Drebber thanks mainly to his argyria, and she noted that the next person to check in asked if someone could go outside and park his cab for him. You wanted to make sure Drebber didn’t slip through your fingers while you were parking in a less conspicuous location; you had to follow him immediately.”

Jefferson sighed, struggling to take everything in. “You’re absolutely right, Mr Brekker.”

“Knowing that you were the person who checked in after Drebber, I could confirm that you and the cab driver were one and the same. With that fact ascertained, it was obvious how you knew where and when Drebber would be; you’d driven him there yourself. By this point, and having heard about rumours of a cover up at the construction site and over the downfall of Stadwatch Construction, it made the most sense that you were indeed the killer for reasons that had yet to come to light.” Kaz revealed. “But I didn’t know. My colleague and I had discussed using the biggest outlier in the case – the silver ring – as a trap, and we were happy to find Detective Helvar had been thinking along the same lines. She placed the advertisement in the evening paper yesterday, and received a reply from you later in the night arranging a meeting for six o’clock the next day.”

“But you couldn’t have known that Mr Hope had been the one to send it.” Matthias noted, having been far too astounded to speak until now.

“And thus you understand my reluctance to tell you everything last night, detective. I couldn’t know, but knowing Jefferson’s profession meant there was a good chance I could find out.” Kaz said. “I had my colleague send out one final message – a request under an incorrect name and address – to the cab office, asking for their employee Jefferson Hope specifically to pick me up at eight o’clock the following morning. When my colleague returned confirming the cab had been booked, I just had to wait.”

“And when I showed up to collect you this morning...?” Jefferson prompted.

“I came up with a tale to get you to reveal whether or not you had plans for six o’clock that evening, which you did. With all the prior evidence against you and that confirmation, I was certain you were the culprit. Even so, we’d have apprehended you at the meeting later this evening regardless.” Kaz explained. “I’m pleased you shared your full side of the story, Jefferson; there were a few gaps in my knowledge that would never have come to light if you hadn’t. The actual motive for the murder, the significance of the ring, the specific reasoning behind writing rache on the wall, the wet clothes in the wardrobe in Drebber’s hotel room, details about the poison used...I appreciate you tying up these loose ends for us.”

“One more loose end, Mr Hope...where is your gun now?” Matthias asked.

“Under the mattress I’m sleeping on at a friend’s house. I shall give you the address, and assurance that they have no idea it is there nor any inkling of what I’ve done.” Jefferson said.

“Good catch, detective.” Kaz smirked.

“Is that our business concluded, then?” Jefferson asked.

“I believe so. Thank you for your full cooperation, Mr Hope. Are you willing to write your story out for us as a formal confession?” Matthias questioned.

“I am. Going to jail doesn’t bother me, detective; I’ll still be free.” Jefferson smiled. “I’ve never felt so light.”

...

Jefferson was taken to prison, leaving Matthias and his colleagues reeling from the shocking events of the last three days. Kaz, meanwhile, appeared unchanged.

“It’s all just so unbelievable.” Joran said.

“What do we do now? Is there any way the truth about Drebber and Lucy Hope’s death can become public knowledge?” Nadia asked.

“It might be more trouble than it’s worth.” Kaz said. “Who do you prosecute? Do you start a whole new investigation into the stolen building materials? Perhaps it’s twenty years too late to drag all this up again.”

“An innocent woman died, Brekker.” Matthias said.

“That’s what people do.” Kaz said. “And as for innocent? You forget she was happy to sit back and let Drebber get away with stealing those materials as long as he promised to never do it again.”

“She still deserves justice!” Nadia argued.

“And according to her husband, she got it.” Kaz shrugged.

“So you think it’s justified that Jefferson murdered a man?” Matthias folded his arms.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Helvar. I never said it was right or wrong - that’s not what I care about - but I understand what’s it like to want someone who’s wronged you to pay the ultimate price.” Kaz said. “You can all do whatever you want with the information that’s come to light. Hold a vigil, light a candle, hold hands and sing songs if you like; I have the advantage of letting go and moving on.”

With that, Kaz made his leave. Matthias wasn’t far behind.

“Brekker!”

“What?”

“...Differences of opinion aside, thank you. I’m not sure I’d have cracked the case without you and your Crows.” Matthias said.

“I agree.” Kaz said. “Good luck on all your future ones.”

He walked onwards, leaving Matthias behind, and returned to Crow Consultations. The others had been waiting with bated breath for his return, and when he arrived he filled them in on Jefferson Hope’s story and the full, tragic events that led to the death of Enoch Drebber.

“What a brilliant case.” Nina said.

“Someone should write it down and turn it into a book.” Wylan suggested.

“I’d read it, and I loathe reading.” Jesper nodded.

“If any of us has the time to write storybooks, we’re not working hard enough.” Kaz said.

“I’m surprised Detective Helvar isn’t with you.” Inej said.

“I was starting to get used to him being around.” Wylan agreed.

“Like a bad smell.” Nina scoffed.

“It was about time there was another hunk around here.” Jesper smirked. “Do you think that’s really it then, boss? No more cases with the police?”

“Might be for the best, given some of our...methods.” Inej said.

“We’ll see.” Kaz said. “Now get back to work.”

...

ONE MONTH LATER

Matthias felt excitement bubbling in his chest as he approached Crow Consultations for the first time since Jefferson Hope’s arrest a month prior. To his regret, the days he’d spent there had been the most exciting and fulfilling as a detective so far.

In the weeks that had followed Enoch Drebber’s death, all the cases that come across Matthias’ desk – well, a desk – hadn’t come close to the intrigue and satisfaction his very first case had provided him.

He missed the stimulation; the nights sat up in bed trying to piece things together. He missed being around Brekker’s annoyingly brilliant mind. He missed the comradery he’d briefly experienced with the Crows. His colleagues were fine, but lacked the energy and the spark the others had. The work lacked the energy and spark, too. He’d witnessed the passion for the work the Crows had – he’d wrongly judged them for it – and in only four weeks he’d come to miss it to an unbearable degree.

He'd been waiting for an excuse to visit again, having not come across any crimes remotely wild or mysterious enough to consult the Crows with, and the news he’d received that morning meant he finally had one. He could only imagine the wonderful, bonkers cases they’d been working hard on while he’d been bored out of his mind. He thought Ketterdam’s crime rate would keep him occupied, but maybe it all landed at the Crows’ front door instead?

He knocked on the door and entered, and found himself embarrassingly and strangely relieved to see everything was just as it had been a month ago, especially the spare empty desk next to Nina, who sat and glared while the others greeted him with enthusiasm.

“Is Brekker here?” Matthias asked.

“In his office. He’s expecting you.” Inej smiled.

“...Why?”

“He’s been expecting you for the last month.” Jesper chuckled, the joy on his face clear as day, as if he knew something that Matthias didn’t.

Matthias entered Kaz’s office, finding him sat as his desk. “Good to see you again, Brekker.”

“That might be the first time I’ve ever heard that sentence.” Kaz said, not looking up from what he was writing. “What do you want, Detective Helvar?”

“I promised to keep you updated on the Enoch Drebber case.” Matthias said.

“That case was closed a month ago.”

“Yes, but I still thought you’d want to know...Jefferson Hope died last night. They found him in his cell this morning, lying in bed with a smile on his face.”

Kaz finally stopped writing and looked up. “I see. His aneurysm, I take it?”

“Yes. They think it happened in his sleep.”

“Probably the best way to go.” Kaz nodded. “I appreciate the update. Goodbye, then.”

“Oh, uh...yeah. Goodbye.” Matthias turned to leave, but couldn’t bring himself to open the door. He turned back. “Could you teach me? To do what you can do with your mind? The way you work stuff out? The others have been learning too, right? I just...I think I need that. Now I’ve seen what you can do, and I’ve had a taste of it...I can’t just sit around being a detective the way I thought I could. Not anymore.”

“I don’t have the time. The others can nurture their minds because they work here. You can’t dedicate the time you’d need to learn the craft in that police station, detective.”

“...Well, what if I...? Never mind.” Matthias sighed.

“Unless, of course, you’ve spent the last month ignoring that voice niggling away at the back of your head. Unless, of course, you slotted yourself into our spare desk like it was a welcome mat during those brief few hours in our company. Unless, of course, you’d stared at that empty desk jealously when you were walking in here for the first time.” Kaz said. “Unless you once asked me ‘if you don’t like the police, why help them?’, subconsciously separating yourself from the K.P.D. while always including yourself in regards to us. For example, when you asked who ‘we’ were looking for once we’d started mutually compiling the profile of the killer.”

“I...I suppose that is all true.” Matthias confirmed.

Kaz smirked, opening his desk drawer. “Do you recall the first thing I did when you originally came into this office?”

Matthias took a moment to think. “You...wrote on some papers and sealed them in an envelope.”

“Decent long-term memory recall. Good start.” Kaz said, retrieving the very same envelope from the drawer and breaking its wax seal. “A short time in your company on the day we met prompted me to prepare this and seal it away. I’ve been waiting for you to claim it ever since.”

“What is it?”

Kaz pulled the papers out of the envelope and set them down for Matthias to see. “Your contract of employment. Do you need a pen?”

And that was how the most extraordinary set of adventures began.

Chapter Text

Kaz had not long locked up Crow Consultations for the night when someone started pounding on the front door. It was frantic, endless knocking. The others, who had been cleaning up their desks to get ready to go home, all turned and looked at Kaz expectantly.

With a sigh, Kaz went to the door. “This had better be worth it.”

He unlocked it and pulled it open, revealing a young woman in a dark green dress and grey coat stood there, eyes wide and face pale. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Help me! Oh Saints, help me!”

She practically fell into the room as Kaz stepped aside to let her in, stumbling towards Inej’s desk and clasping it to keep her upright.

“It’s alright, we can help you. Come and sit down.” Inej said, getting up and pulling her chair back for the woman to settle into. “What’s your name?”

“Kate.” The woman said breathlessly. She’d clearly been running.

“What’s happened, love?” Nina asked as Wylan brought their visitor a cup of tea he’d quickly prepared.

“My husband, Neville. He’s in trouble.” Kate said, gratefully accepting the tea and holding it close as if she found comfort in its warmth. “A few hours ago, there was a knock on the door. When I opened it there was no sign of anyone, but a note had been left on the floor.”

“What did it say?” Kaz asked.

“It was just an address.”

“Do you have it on you?”

“Yes.” Kate nodded, producing the slip of paper from her coat and offering it to Kaz with a shaky hand.

Kaz inspected the paper for a few seconds, reading the address and spinning the paper in his hands to examine everything he could. “This is the address for a known opium den at Ketterdam harbour.”

“I know! Why do you think I’m here? I sat around for so long wondering what to do. I’d heard of you, and knew you could help, so I made up my mind and ran here as fast as I could.” Kate exclaimed.

“Why not go to the police?” Jesper asked.

“If Neville’s caught up in something like...this...I was scared he’d get in trouble. Maybe the police won’t have to know about this business.” Kate explained.

“Why assume your husband is involved at all?” Kaz wondered.

“The note. It’s his handwriting.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. He has two styles of writing, his usual one and the scribbles of someone writing in a rush. This is the latter; he’s panicked or scared and with the address being what it is...I feared the worst.”

“Do you think it was your husband who left the note at your door?” Wylan asked.

“I don’t think so. Why leave a note when he could just come in and speak to me?” Kate questioned. “I need to know he’s okay. Will you go and see if he’s there? Please? I can pay for your services!”

“Jesper, go and take a look.” Kaz said, turning to the far corner of the room. “You too, Helvar.”

Everyone turned to face Matthias, who straightened up in shock. He’d been watching and listening intently, but hadn’t expected Kaz to get him quite so involved in a case quite so soon. After having to work a month’s notice at the Ketterdam Police Department once he’d accepted Kaz’s offer to join the Crows, this was only his second day. “Me?”

“You must have dealt with this sort of thing a thousand times. It makes sense.” Kaz said. “The rest of us have other cases that need to be addressed this evening.”

“Besides, you’ll have me to keep you safe!” Jesper grinned with his thumbs up.

“...Okay. Let’s get going.” Matthias nodded. This was what he’d yearned to start doing after the Jefferson Hope case, after all.

“I wish to come, too.” Kate announced, finishing her tea in one big gulp and standing up.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mrs...um...?” Matthias began.

“St Clair.” Kate said.

“It could be dangerous, Mrs St Clair. You...you may not like what we find.” Matthias offered gently.

“You’re not with the police anymore, Helvar. Clients can be as involved as they like.” Kaz said. “Try not to get her killed.”

Kate somehow managed to look even paler than before.

...

Matthias, Jesper and Kate departed without delay and made good pace; they decided to walk in case they spotted any signs of Neville on the way. Suddenly, Kate stopped and put her hand to her chest, breathing deeply.

“Mrs St Clair, are you okay?” Matthias asked.

“What if...what if he’s not there? What do I do then?” Kate asked nervously.

“I know it’s easier said than done, but we shouldn’t panic until we know the facts. For all we know, Mr St Clair had a few pints at the pub and thought he was being funny.” Jesper said.

“If that is so, he will do well to earn my forgiveness.” Kate said sharply. “Oh, Saints...what if he’s dead?!”

“She’s not doing the thing I said to do.” Jesper whispered to Matthias.

“Mrs St Clair, we’ll do right by your husband no matter what the situation is, but we need to find him first. Worrying prematurely won’t help him.” Matthias said, placing a supportive hand on Kate’s shoulder.

“...Yes. You’re right. Let’s keep moving.” Kate nodded.

They marched on, pausing every so often to allow Kate to gather herself again, and soon arrived at the address on the note. It was a run-down, dilapidated building made up of two floors, immediately backed onto the cold, black waters of Ketterdam harbour. Everyone knew what went on there, so most stayed away. Many of the windows had been smashed out, and the only way in was a set of metal stairs around the side leading to a crudely fitted wooden door.

Matthias and Jesper shared a look of unease and anticipation. Would Neville St Clair actually be inside? If so, what had led him there? And why on earth would he summon his own wife there?

“No rest for the wicked.” Jesper said, rubbing his hands together and making his way towards the metal steps. He reached a hand out towards the door.

A loud, sudden cry came from above. “KATE!”

Matthias and Kate followed the sound, looking up to see a man leaning out a window on the second floor. His dark hair was a mess of tangles, and it was only when he started waving his arms frantically that Matthias realised that he was shirtless; perhaps even completely naked.

“NEVILLE!” Kate shouted, the recognition on her face unmistakable.

Neville suddenly disappeared from view with immense force. It looked like, Matthias feared, that someone had dragged him back inside.

“NEVILLE!” Kate screamed again.

Jesper didn’t hesitate to open the door and run inside, Matthias and Kate running to join him. Just as they reached the top of the steps, Jesper tumbled into them with a cry, sending them all plummeting back down to the floor.

“Bloody hell!” Jesper cursed, dusting himself off. “Come on!”

“What happened there?” Matthias asked as the three of them hurried inside, shielding their noses from the smell as they rushed to the second floor.

“As soon as I ran in, this massive bloke came out of nowhere and kicked me backwards! Prick. Where the hell did he go?” Jesper wondered. There didn’t appear to be anyone in sight.

Arriving on the second floor, the three of them were greeted with the same dull, damp surroundings as the first. Small puddles of water festered at their feet. Worn, dirty mattresses were squeezed into corners. A few old, worn-out lanterns were the only source of light.

Laying on one of the beds was a sleeping man, snoring loudly. He was turned away from the others, meaning the only impression he could leave on them were his tattered clothes and orange hair.

As soon as he saw the man, Jesper let out a deep sigh. “Hugh? What are you doing here?”

The exclamation of what must have been his name woke the sleeping man from his slumber. He slumped over to his other side and looked up at the others, rubbing his eyes. He spoke in a thick cockney accent. “...Fahey? Hello!”

“Who is this man?” Kate stared at the stranger warily. “What have you done with my husband?!”

“What have I done about who?” The man got to his feet, and Matthias suddenly realised he recognised him too. He’d seen this Hugh a few times over the last month, busking all over the streets of Ketterdam. More than once, Matthias had to send him packing for causing a public disturbance.

“Oh, crap. I ain’t done nothing!” Hugh added upon recognising Matthias in turn. Beside his dangerously bright hair, several features of this character had cemented him in Matthias’ memory; the mole on his cheek, the scar on his face that curved one end of his lip upwards, and a limp so impactful he had to twist his entire leg to take a step. Matthis couldn’t help but pity the poor man. Unless he’s done something to Neville St Clair...

“Hugh, relax! We just need to ask you a few questions.” Jesper said. “What are you doing...here?”

“This is where I sleep.” Hugh said.

“Dangerous spot to choose, my friend.”

“Choose? I ain’t got a choice, have I? They kick me out of everywhere else. I try and get a few hours’ kip before people swarm the place in the early hours.” Hugh explained with some frustration, pulling the material out of his empty pockets. “Don’t have no money for a place to stay!”

“Have you seen anyone else up here? This lady is looking for her husband. We just saw him looking out of that window there.” Matthias said.

“I’m a heavy sleeper, sorry.” Hugh said anxiously.

“It’s okay, Booney; the big guy here isn’t a detective anymore. He works with me. No need to be nervous.” Jesper smiled reassuringly. “You really didn’t see him? What about a bigger bloke? Tall, muscular? Practically threw me down the stairs when I tried to get inside. Is there another way out of the building?”

“Uh...a window, I guess?” Hugh shrugged.

“They could’ve both jumped out of one that was already smashed.” Matthias speculated. “I definitely didn’t hear any glass shattering.”

“Neither did I.” Jesper agreed. “It’s plausible. Big guy could’ve gone out of one on the floor below before we reached him.”

“Maybe that man did something to my Neville? The one who assaulted you?” Kate turned to Jesper, her nerves frayed.

“We can’t rule anything out.” Jesper said.

“Hugh, has anyone else been here today as far as you can remember?” Matthias asked.

“People come and go all the time. I pay ‘em no mind.” Hugh said.

The men all jumped at the sound of a loud scream, turning to see Kate knelt on the floor holding a small, gift-wrapped box. She had removed the lid and produced a wooden train set that a child would play with.

“Mrs St Clair?” Matthias was at her side in seconds.

“This was on one of the mattresses. Brand new.” Kate cried. “Neville...he promised to bring one home for our son today. It was him. He was here! Why? Where is he?!”

“Matthias.” Jesper called out. He was stood at one of the broken windows at the back of the room.

Matthias joined him and looked outside. Immediately below were the rocks and waves of the harbour. On the window sill was a small bloodstain, still fresh. “...Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.” Jesper said. “If Neville had gone out of a window, he wouldn’t have had time to go to the floor below; we’d have seen him. It had to have been one on this floor. The question is...was he thrown out, or did he throw himself out?”

“We can’t disprove either possibility. I’ve seen Hugh around Ketterdam; in his condition, I can’t see him overpowering a man of good health.” Matthias said.

“Agreed. He might be a scapegoat in all of this.” Jesper speculated.

“Possibly, possibly not, but he couldn’t have thrown anyone out a window. So, the big guy who attacked you, then? Neville looked like he’d been dragged away from the window by someone.”

“But the big guy couldn’t have had time to drag Neville away, throw him out the window on the other side of the room and then get downstairs to immediately confront me at the entrance. No way.” Jesper shook his head. “And before you start, I need to remind you that we can’t arrest anyone. We’re not police.”

“I know. We don’t even know if there’s a crime yet.” Matthias sighed, looking out the window again. “Could anyone survive this fall?”

“If they missed the rocks, maybe? I can’t see anything. It’s too bloody dark.” Jesper said. “We might have to come back in the morning and see if we can spot...you know...”

“Any bodies?”

“Yeah.” Jesper confirmed solemnly.

Matthias sighed. “Let’s work with what we have and search the place.”

“Do we tell Mrs St Clair about the blood?”

“Later.”

They got to work thoroughly searching the building. A few people had started to arrive to spend the night there, bewildered at the sight of Jesper, Matthias and Kate looking around as Hugh watched on, scratching his head.

The only significant find came upon lifting up the mattress the wooden train had been found on. Matthias had thrown it aside only to be greeted by a pile of clothes.

“...These are Neville’s! His shirt, his tie, his watch, his trousers...the only thing missing is his coat.” Kate revealed.

“Are you sure he’d have it with him?” Matthias asked.

“Absolutely! He never leaves home without it.”

“Could you describe it?” Jesper prompted.

“Navy blue tweed, black buttons, about knee length.” Kate said.

Jesper nodded approvingly. “Nice.”

“It’s his favourite thing to wear!” Kate added.

“Is it a coincidence the only thing missing alongside Neville is his favourite coat?” Matthias speculated.

“You think he took it with him wherever he went?” Jesper asked. “Hang on, I was at the wrong angle to be able to see him when we arrived...was he naked?”

“It looked that way.” Matthias nodded.

“Your husband and I would get along swimmingly.” Jesper smiled at Kate, hoping to ease the worry on her face. It didn’t.

“The clothes under the mattress, the toy for his child on top of it...was he staying here?” Matthias wondered.

“Why on earth would he do that? He has a home! And why did he leave this address for me? Was it a cry for help?” Kate asked anxiously.

“We’ll keep looking into this, Mrs St Clair, but I believe we’ve gathered all we can from here. Better light in the morning might show us more.” Matthias said. “I should also let you know, there was a small trace of fresh blood on the window sill over there.”

“Which may not even be Neville’s!” Jesper added quickly.

“Oh, Saints...Neville...” Kate sank to the floor and sobbed lightly.

As Matthias comforted her, Jesper pointed to Hugh. “We might need to ask you more questions about this, Booney. I’d better be able to find you, you hear?”

Hugh shrugged. “Where else would I go?”

“Good man.” Jesper nodded.

The three of them departed, and Kate was escorted back to her house, the wooden train for her child clutched tightly in her arms. Upon being told to report to Crow Consultations at ten o’clock the following morning to receive updates on the case, she bid Matthias and Jesper goodnight with an ashen face and deflated voice. Matthias felt an overwhelming amount of sympathy for her, and silently promised to do all he could to discover what happened to her husband.

“Tell me honestly...do you think he’s dead?” Jesper asked on the carriage ride back.

“I do.” Matthias sighed. “But if there’s anything I know about the cases we investigate, we’ve barely scratched the surface of what’s going on.”

“You’re learning fast, Helvar. I knew you’d fit right in.” Jesper grinned. “I don’t know if this is Jefferson Hope levels of complex quite yet, but it’s still a head-scratcher. I’m quite glad the others already had cases to occupy their time. This one’s juicy.”

Matthias was inclined to agree. “So, this Hugh character...you two seem to be friendly?”

Jesper smiled, leaning back in his seat. “Hugh Boone...interesting fellow. Tells the police he sells matchstick boxes, but he’s a professional busker. He’s been floating around Ketterdam for years, scraping by. I’ve bumped into him at a few gambling parlours and we got talking from there.”

“Gambling parlours?”

“Everyone has a vice, Helvar!” Jesper exclaimed. “That’s mine, along with being too handsome. Boone makes a decent living from what I’ve seen; he’s always placing a bet or getting a drink somewhere. Not enough for somewhere to stay, I guess, but he told me his mantra is to always keeps some change on him for a rainy day. Maybe he’s saving?”

“Do you know what happened to him? The scar, the limp...?” Matthias asked.

Jesper shook his head. “I didn’t want to open old wounds.”

“Do you think he has anything to do with what happened to Neville St Clair? Or the big guy?”

“Honestly? He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Jesper admitted. “But I guess anyone can snap. Maybe there’ll be another twisted story of revenge, and Neville was the person who gave Hugh that scar or something? Kaz hates theories like that. At least, theories like that without solid evidence.”

“Is this the sort of thing where we do the initial investigation and then Kaz takes over?” Matthias wondered.

“He might dip in and out, but normally if you’re assigned a case from the start he leaves it up to you.” Jesper said. “Don’t worry. You’re doing good. I didn’t think you’d be as good at comforting the clients as you are.”

“I can’t tell you how much bad news I’ve had to break to people over the years. You get a sense for it.” Matthias said. “I can get through to most people, anyway.”

Jesper laughed knowingly. “Nina still giving you a hard time?”

“I don’t think she actively routes for my death anymore, but she’s not exactly a fan.”

“There were always going to be teething issues. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kaz puts you both on a case together to make you clear the air.”

Matthias shuddered at the thought. “I can hardly wait.”

Jesper hopped out of the carriage when they got close to his apartment, and before long Matthias was back home himself. Exhausted, he made himself a light dinner and went to bed.

Sleep wouldn’t come. For hours, he lay there with this strange new case playing on his mind. The note to Kate. The missing husband. The big guy. The blood on the window sill. The missing coat. Hugh Boone. There had to be something linking all the elements together. The now simple story of Jefferson Hope and Enoch Drebber had started out as a complicated, inexplicable web; Matthias hoped the same could soon be said for the disappearance of Neville St Clair.

...

Matthias thought he was early when he got to work the next morning, but to his surprise Wylan was already at his desk flipping through papers.

“Morning.” Wylan smiled.

“You’re a very early bird.” Matthias noted as he sat down.

“And sadly, no worm for me yet.” Wylan said. “I’ve got newspapers to search through to corroborate some stories Inej needs for her case.”

“How long have you been here?”

“A few hours.”

“Hours?”

“Yeah. I, um...I struggle with reading a bit. Well, a lot. I come in early so I can actually get something substantial done every day.” Wylan admitted shyly. “Kaz normally throws photos or numbers my way to work on if he can, but no such luck lately.”

“I don’t know if I should commend or commiserate you.” Matthias said.

“Both.” Wylan nodded. “I’ll work myself into an early grave, but I’ll be helping people while I do it. How did you and Jesper get on yesterday?”

“It’s not looking good for the husband, but hopefully more will come to light today. I’ll be heading out soon; the tide was in last night, but since it’ll be out this morning, I’m hoping anyone or anything that was thrown out a window yesterday will reveal itself.” Matthias explained. “I’ll be back in time for Kate to come here for an update. I need to ask her more about her relationship with Neville, too.”

“It sounds like you’ve made some progress, at least! I hope Jesper didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Not at all! He did get kicked down some stairs by a mystery assailant, though.”

Wylan smirked. “I’d have liked to have seen that.”

“Bad blood?”

“No, not really...it’s a long story. Well, it is for me.” Wylan began. “Don’t say a word to him, but a few weeks after I started working here we’d both had a bit to drink and-”

“-Good morning gentlemen!” Jesper exclaimed as he walked in.

Wylan hid his reddening face behind a newspaper. “This is very early for you.”

“Haven’t slept! Still a bit tipsy. Don’t tell the boss.” Jesper said. “Besides, Helvar and I have serious business to attend to. Back to the scene of the maybe crime?”

“Ready when you are.” Matthias nodded.

Not wanting to waste any time, they took a carriage back to the opium den, which they found to be completely deserted. They hurried to the second floor and looked out the window with the bloodstained sill. The tide had indeed gone out, revealing a stretch of wet sand which had been submerged under the water the previous night.

“What’s that?” Jesper asked, pointing to a small mound of material on the sand.

Matthias knew instantly what it had to be, and rushed back downstairs. He leapt over the stone border separating the streets from the coast, sliding down and landing with surprising elegance onto the sand. He looked back up at Jesper expectantly.

Jesper looked down to where Matthias had jumped. “I think I’d better stay up here.”

“Probably for the best.” Matthias shouted back, walking up to the damp mound and picking it up. He held it out for Jesper to see. “I’d say this fits the description, wouldn’t you?”

Jesper nodded with recognition. “Neville’s coat!”

Matthias climbed back up the cobbled wall to rejoin Jesper, handing him the coat. “It’s quite heavy.”

“Well, it’s wet through. It would be. Ooh, hang on...” Jesper shook the coat and revelled at the noise it made. “I know the sound of money when I hear it!”

He turned the coat upside down and shook it, sending two piles of coins pouring onto the floor.

Matthias knelt down to inspect them. “This much loose change? In both pockets?”

“Not even in a bag or purse of some kind.” Jesper said. “I’m terrible with money, and even I’m offended at such negligence.”

“Someone used the coins to weigh down the coat so it would sink when it was thrown out the window.” Matthias said.

“And perhaps cut themselves on a shard of glass while doing it, leaving blood on the window sill?” Jesper speculated.

“Potentially, though this could’ve been disposed of at any time before or after we were here. Why only get rid of the coat and not the rest of the clothes?” Matthias asked.

“Well, the rest of the clothes were concealed, just under the mattress.”

“Which would suggest someone weighed down the coat and disposed of it, leaving them with little time to hide the rest.”

“So they did it in a rush?”

“That’s one possible explanation for what could have been happening while we were coming up the stairs.” Matthias said. “But if the clothes were disposed of then, how did two adult men just vanish into thin air? Neville and the big guy?”

“I’ll tell you what, mate, we’ve got another puzzler here.” Jesper sighed. “...Very nice coat, though. Texture will have been ruined by the salt water. Damn shame.”

“So many questions...with all Neville’s clothes accounted for, why was he stood naked in an opium den?”

“With another man in the room? And with his wife on the way? All the makings of a very fun night.” Jesper winked. “Maybe that’s what he was hoping for?”

“But why there? And why would he or someone else want to hide his clothes? And we’re no closer to working out how the big guy fits in.” Matthias groaned.

“Let’s not think of the bigger picture right now. If we can answer the smaller questions it’ll inevitably piece together. Not even nine o’clock and we’ve solved the mystery of the missing coat.” Jesper said. “So how does that connect to what we know so far?”

Matthias closed his eyes and considered for a moment. It felt like his body knew the answer, but his brain hadn’t gotten there yet. You know everything you need to know to answer that, a voice in his head cried out. Scarily, it wasn’t his own. It was Kaz’s.

The coat was weighed down and disposed of. Forget why someone did it for now and simplify it...who could have done it? Neville himself? The big guy? Hugh Boone?

Matthias could practically see the lightbulb go off in his head. “Oh. That doesn’t explain why, but the who? It makes logical sense.”

“Oh no, case number two and you’re already talking to yourself.” Jesper sighed. “That’s a new record. Think you’ve figured something out?”

“I have a very probable theory.” Matthias confirmed. “I’m heading back to the office, but I need you to find someone for me.”

...

Matthias burst into Crow Consultations in an excited wave. The rush of adrenaline, the satisfaction of piecing a case together...it had come flooding back. It felt glorious.

“Draft.” Nina said sternly, glaring at him.

Matthias turned and saw he hadn’t properly closed the door, promptly fixing his error. “Sorry.”

“Breakthrough on the case?” She asked.

“I think so. Where are the others?”

“Kaz and Inej are out interviewing a client. Wylan’s making tea out back. I’d heard Jesper was with you.” Nina revealed.

“He’s doing me a favour. Hopefully he’ll be back soon. Kate’s due at ten to get some updates.” Matthias said.

“Your update appears to be dripping on the floor.” Nina looked at the soggy coat in Matthias’ hands.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll clean that up.” Matthias said. “Do we have a bucket or anything I could put this in?”

“I expect so.” Nina said, and returned to her work.

Matthias couldn’t take Nina’s passive-aggressiveness any longer. “...You still don’t like me very much, do you?”

“You didn’t like us first.” Nina said.

“I made an untrue remark in the heat of the moment, and I’m sorry.”

“I don’t get a kick out of people dying.”

“I know. You were invested in the case...I understand that now. I get it. And I am sorry.” Matthias said.

Nina studied him for a moment. “I suppose resenting you over it for the last month could be considered a slight overreaction.”

“I connected with what you guys were doing completely, and now I get to do it myself I don’t want there to be any animosity with anyone.” Matthias held his spare hand out to her. “Can we start again? I’m Matthias Helvar. Full-time Crow. Part-time idiot.”

A smile slowly formed on Nina’s lips, and she shook his hand. “Nina Zenik. Diamond in the rough. And you’re still making a mess with that coat.”

“Right. Yes.” Matthias hurried into the back room, and Nina watched him go with a quiet chuckle.

It had not long come to ten o’clock when Kate St Clair arrived, her eyes widening as they were immediately drawn to her husband’s coat resting in the bucket Matthias had procured. “Oh no...where was it?”

“It had been weighed down with coins and dumped out the window into the sea.” Matthias revealed.

“Be honest with me...do you think Neville is dead?” Kate pleaded.

“I can’t say for sure, Mrs St Clair, but based on what we’ve found so far...he may have come to great harm.” Matthias said. “My gut says you should prepare for the worst.”

“I implore you to ignore your gut for the moment...I received another note from him this morning.” Kate revealed.

“What?” Matthias exclaimed. Wylan and Nina sat up straight in their desks, watching intently as Kate handed Matthias a scrap of newspaper. It had enough blank space on it for a short message to have been written:

Kate,

There is a huge error that will take time to rectify. Have patience, my dearest.

- Neville

“His handwriting again?” Matthias asked.

“Yes.” Kate nodded. “But he wasn’t in a rush or scared this time.”

“I don’t like to be cynical, but that could have been written at any point and only delivered today.” Nina noted.

“No, it was written today.” Matthias said, showing the other side of the scrap of paper. “Today’s date is printed on here. They’ve used the corner of this morning’s newspaper.”

“So he’s alive? He has to be!” Kate said.

“It looks that way.” Matthias said. “Mrs St Clair, I need to know more about Neville. How long have you been married?”

“Five years.”

“You mentioned you had a child together?”

“We have two. I’ve left them in the care of their nanny while I’ve been with you.”

“How did you both meet?”

Kate smiled fondly. “A mutual friend hosted a party in London that we both attended. They owned a boat that was docked on the Thames; quite an extraordinary setting for a gathering. Neville worked there as an actor. It was love at first sight. Before long, he gave up his acting career for a more stable job as a postman in Ketterdam to be with me.”

“An actor? Imagine the roleplay...” Nina whispered to Wylan, who went bright red.

“Forgive me for asking, but...you’re both happily married?” Matthias asked.

“Very!” Kate nodded.

“And Neville hasn’t been acting strangely recently?”

“Not at all. This business must have been a very sudden change of fortune for him, I assure you. We’re deeply connected. Just the other day he cut his finger chopping vegetables and I came running downstairs to check on him. He hadn’t made any sort of noise or cry of pain; I just knew.” Kate revealed.

“I see...” Matthias was scribbling notes onto a pad as he listened. ‘Actor in London, now a postman. Happily married. Sudden change of fortune? Cut his finger recently.’

“And this coat here is definitely his?” Wylan wondered, pointing to the bucket.

“Without a doubt.” Kate said.

“And you said he wears it everywhere he goes, without fail? When he leaves for work and when he returns? You don’t see him in anything else?” Matthias questioned.

“Nothing.” Kate folded her arms, appearing to be frustrated with the interrogation.

Cogs in Matthias’ brain had begun whirring, and the picture of Neville St Clair in his mind was getting clearer and clearer. “And does your husband ever run late at all?”

“No. He always leaves for work precisely when he needs to. The post office he reports to is a ten minute walk from our home, so he will leave ten minutes before his shift. He learnt punctuality from his acting days; following cues and the like.” Kate explained.

Nina was watching Matthias think with a wide grin on her face. She turned to Wylan. “I think the new guy’s on to something.”

“Me too.” Wylan nodded excitedly.

Almost as if it was planned, Jesper had found the perfect moment to return. He walked in happily, his arm around the man Matthias had sent him to fetch. “One Mr Hugh Boone, as requested. He was in one of his usual busking spots.”

“Selling matchstick boxes!” Hugh exclaimed.

“Whatever you say, pal.” Jesper smiled.

“Thank you for coming, Hugh.” Matthias said.

“Fahey promised to buy me lunch.” Hugh shrugged.

“I always buy them dinner first.” Jesper winked.

“I’m even more glad to have you here than I would’ve been before my conversation with Mrs St Clair here.” Matthias announced. “Before I ask you a few questions, would you mind showing me your hands?”

Hugh lifted his hands up.

“Without the fingerless gloves, if you don’t mind...” Matthias said, reaching to remove them himself.

“I can do it!” Hugh barked, jerking back suddenly.

“Apologies...” Matthias said gently, watching as Hugh removed the gloves and held up his hands again. “Perfect. Thank you, Mr Boone.”

“Is that everything, then?” Hugh went to leave, limping towards the door.

“Not quite yet, Hugh. Just a few questions. Firstly, why did you try and get rid of Neville St Clair’s coat by weighing it down with the money you’d made busking?” Matthias asked.

Hugh’s face dropped. “You what?”

“And secondly...” Matthias stepped forward. “Why haven’t you said hello to your wife yet, Mr St Clair?”

“...What? What do you mean?” Kate asked, her hand on her chest.

“Kate, you remember Hugh Boone from last night? Of course, you’d know him better as your husband, Neville.” Matthias said. I wish Brekker was here to see this.

“I ain’t got a clue what you’re talking about!” Hugh spat, hands on his hips.

“I think you do, Neville. The game’s up. I don’t know the whole story, but I can prove enough beyond a shadow of a doubt. Luckily, you’re the one person who can fill in the blanks.” Matthias said. “It’s funny, all I knew until I spoke to your wife just now was that the most logical person behind what happened to the coat had to have been you. But Kate painted such a clear picture of her husband that other pieces of the puzzle slid into place and started to make sense. So much of this story can be explained by applying one simple thought to it; that Neville St Clair and Hugh Boone are the same man.”

Kate shook her head. “I know my husband, and...well, look at him! He’s not my Neville! He...he can’t be...”

“Are you sure, Helvar?” Jesper raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, let’s take this slow. I didn’t know why someone dumped Neville’s coat, but after thinking on it I had a clear idea of who. No matter how crazy it sounds, if you rule out other possibilities then the one you’re left with must be the truth.” Matthias said. “Hugh is the most likely person. A professional busker, who Jesper told me makes a decent living from it, would have the loose change and loose change only that was used to weigh the coat down.”

“You think I’m the only one in Ketterdam with a bit of loose change?” Hugh scoffed.

“But you didn’t have any loose change when we first met, did you Hugh? You emptied your pockets out when you told us you couldn’t afford anywhere to stay. You had nothing, and yet last night Jesper told me that you said you always keep some change on you for a rainy day. So why didn’t you have even a single coin last night, Hugh?” Matthias asked. “Because you’d just put it all in the pockets of that coat and thrown it out the window.”

“...Okay, credit where credit’s due, there’s logic to that.” Jesper said. “But going from that to saying Hugh is Neville St Clair is a pretty big leap.”

“I would know if my husband was masquerading as a busker. I spend every evening with him once he’s home from work. He doesn’t have time to...to play dress up!” Kate exclaimed.

“And what if your husband isn’t a postman, but a professional busker?” Matthias asked.

Kate laughed. “Don’t be absurd!”

“You said he leaves for work every day in his favourite coat, yes? You’ve never seen him wear anything else?” Matthias said. “...So where’s his work uniform? Have you ever seen it?”

“I...no.” Kate said. “B-But...he must just change into it when he gets there.”

“You said yourself he wouldn’t have the time. He leaves precisely ten minutes before his shift, correct? It’s a ten minute walk to the post office. If he arrived and then got changed, he’d start work late. And why on earth would anyone not just get dressed for work before they leave? The logical answer: because they don’t work there at all.”

“I...but...” Kate leant against one of the desks.

“You said your husband cut his finger the other day. Which finger?” Matthias asked.

“His index finger on his right hand.” Kate replied.

“Would you mind showing us your right hand again, Hugh?” Matthias asked.

Slowly and reluctantly, Hugh followed Matthias’ instructions. Kate let out a gasp when she noticed the scabbed cut on his index finger.

“Here’s how I think this particular part of the story played out...” Matthias continued. “You knew your secret was about to be discovered when we saw you at the window. Your only chance was to disguise yourself as Hugh Boone and pretend Neville St Clair had vanished, so you had to get rid of Neville’s clothes. You used your loose change to weigh down the coat and throw it out the window; in the rush and panic as you did it, you reopened the wound you’d sustained a few days before, leaving a small amount of blood on the window sill. Realising you wouldn’t be able to properly sink the rest of the clothes underwater, you hid them under the mattress and pretended to have been asleep during the whole commotion, improvising however you saw fit thanks to your acting background. Am I close, Neville?”

Hugh glared at Matthias with an intense hatred. The look in his eyes quickly softened and became one of defeat. He sighed and dropped the cockney accent for a lighter, more enunciated way of speaking. “...Exactly right. Kate...forgive me.”

Kate nearly fell to the floor. “...Neville?! It is you?! But...why?”

“I’m sorry, my dear, I...I never wanted you or the children to ever find out how I really spent my days. The shame of it...” Neville shook his head.

“You were never a postman?”

“Never. Please forgive me, darling.” Neville said. “When I moved here, I tried so hard to find work to no avail. In my desperation, I leaned into my days as an actor. I bought an orange wig, face paint to add a mole to my cheek, a piece of flesh-coloured plaster to twist my lip upwards and put on an exaggerated limp. I needed to be noticed, you understand; I needed to be a character. Whether I earned their pity or their fear, I found myself earning as much in a week as I would in regular employment. I pretended to be a postman so you wouldn’t be ashamed of me. I take it you’d worked that out, Mr Helvar?”

Matthias nodded. “When Kate mentioned you used to be an actor, I figured Hugh Boone was such a memorable figure he could conceivably be a part someone was playing. Combined with realising you didn’t seem to have a work uniform and upon seeing you had the same cut on your finger Kate had described, it all came together. It was also the only feasible explanation I could think of that bridged the gap between the fact that Hugh must have been the one who dumped the coat and that Neville was supposedly alive and couldn’t have just vanished into thin air.”

“Well I’ll be damned...” Jesper said, having been listening to the conversation up till now open-mouthed.

“But that doesn’t explain everything.” Kate said, still in shock. “If you didn’t want me to know about this, why summon me in the first place?”

“I think part of that can be answered by the second message you received this morning.” Matthias said. “The previous note was just an address, but the one today was directed at you specifically; Neville didn’t mean for you to receive that first note.”

“It was an awful, unforgivable misunderstanding.” Neville sighed, removing the orange wig to reveal his wild brown hair.

“What happened?” Nina asked.

“You see, the opium den was where I went to get changed into Hugh Boone; I kept the costume hidden there, guarded by my friend Lawrence. He’s a fellow busker who sleeps there every night, and the only one who knew my secret.” Neville explained. “I’ve recently been looking around for new busking spots, but unknowingly crossed into the territory of one of Ketterdam’s most ruthless gangs. I wasn’t disguised at this point. Some gang members confronted me, and to explain myself I told them my real name and why I was sneaking around their domain. They demanded I give them all the kruge I’d earned by the end of the day or they’d kill me.”

“That first note...you’d written down the address for them to come and collect the money from you.” Matthias guessed.

“Precisely. They knew where and what the place was, of course, so they didn’t take the note from me and I put it in my pocket. They arranged to meet that night, so I knew I’d have to send Kate a message explaining that I’d be home late.” Neville said. “I went straight to the den and explained everything to Lawrence. He’s a great friend, but not the smartest of men. He misinterprets things and his attention span is non-existent. When I said ‘I need to get a note to my wife’, he took it to mean ‘you need to get this note to my wife’. While I went out to calm my nerves and bought a wooden train I’d promised to get my son that morning, Lawrence took that note and left it at my house for Kate to find. I’d shown him where I lived once, and promised I’d find an excuse to have him over for dinner one day.”

“And so you both meet up at the den and you realise what Lawrence had done?” Matthias prompted.

Neville nodded. “I hadn’t sent my own message in the end in case I was being followed; they might have thought I was contacting the authorities and just killed me then and there. When Lawrence explained how he’d ‘helped’ me, I was mortified. I hoped Kate would ignore it, knowing what the place was. I never imagined she would contact all of you.”

“I needed to make sure you were okay, Neville!” Kate exclaimed, tears in her eyes.

“I know, darling, I know. I’m sorry.” Neville sighed. “I went busking to pass some time before the meeting, and had just taken off my facial amendments and clothes back at the den when I heard voices. I thought the men had come early, so took a look out of the window and to my utter shock saw my wife there with two complete strangers.”

“When you called her name and waved your arms, it was an involuntary reaction out of shock from seeing her there.” Matthias observed.

“I fell apart and didn’t know what to do. I knew I didn’t have much time to keep my secret under wraps, so threw myself back inside and shouted down to Lawrence on the floor below, telling him to stop anyone getting in.”

“Lawrence is the big guy!” Jesper said. “He’s got one hell of a kick.”

“The rest happened as you’ve already described with my clothes and the cut on my hand. I didn’t have the heart to get rid of the toy I’d bought for my son, so I left it alone. I managed to get myself ready on the mattress just as you came in.” Neville said.

“What about big g...uh, Lawrence?” Matthias asked.

“After he’d pushed your friend, he leapt out the window and into the ocean. Thankfully, he was unharmed. After you all left, I panicked for many reasons, one being that I now had no money to give to the gang. Lawrence returned, however, and told me he’d watched the men turn away upon seeing a K.P.D. detective sniffing around the building.”

“I guess it’s not public knowledge that I’ve left yet.” Matthias noted.

“We spent a sleepless night waiting to see if the men would return, but they didn’t show. I decided to stay in my Hugh Boone guise and return to busk in my usual spots; the gang didn’t know which specific busker I was, so I hoped I could avoid anyone who came looking. When I had enough for this morning’s paper, I tore a corner off and finally wrote a note to Kate that Lawrence delivered for me.” Neville explained.

“But what did the note mean, Neville? Why did I need patience?” Kate asked.

“I knew you must have contacted someone to help locate me.” Neville said. “So-”

“-You knew if you hid out as Hugh, Neville St Clair would inevitably be reported missing and the men who wanted your money would give up looking if they hadn’t already.” Matthias nodded.

“Once everything blew over, I could have returned to you and the children and planned my next move from there.” Neville said, looking to Kate with sorrowful eyes. “I’m sorry you were dragged into my mess, dearest. I understand if you never want to see me again.”

“Neville...” Kate sighed breathlessly.

“That was...wow.” Wylan said.

“Look at you solving a mystery, Helvar!” Jesper grinned.

“Nice job.” Nina nodded.

Matthias didn’t know what to say or do. His elation was beyond words. “I...I only worked out the basic facts of the case.”

“You did a great job, Matthias.” Inej said, suddenly emerging from Kaz’s office.

Matthias looked at her with wide eyes. “Wait, you’ve been in there all this time?”

“Good work, Helvar.” Neville said, his voice suddenly rough and all too familiar. “Completely wrong, but good work.”

No. NO. NO! Matthias watched in horror as ‘Neville’ wiped his face clean and pulled the plaster from his lip, morphing back into the smirking face of Kaz Brekker. “...Kaz?!”

“You worked out everything I’d set up, so well done. I was interested in how different your story would be to what I’d come up with, but your explanations synced up with mine almost entirely.” Kaz said. “You may have drawn some conclusions quicker if you’d asked for more information about Neville yesterday, but not bad for your first case.”

“But...you’re Neville St Clair? You’re Hugh Boone?” Matthias sat at his desk, running a hand through his hair as he looked back over recent events.

“I test every new recruit with their own case. This was yours.” Kaz said. “You fared quite well, certainly compared to some people.”

“You made mine way too complicated and you know it!” Nina argued.

“You all knew about this?” Matthias asked, looking at everyone in turn. He settled his gaze on Jesper. “Even you?”

Jesper held his hands up. “Sorry, mate. It’s a rite of passage! And I really was trying to help work it out; Kaz only told me the basic details. It’s more believable if I genuinely don’t know what explanation he was looking for.”

“What about you?” Matthias looked at Kate St Clair incredulously.

“Girl’s gotta eat.” Kate shrugged.

“This is Polly, an actress I hired to play the part of the concerned wife.” Kaz explained. “I told her all the details she needed to get across to you whichever way she saw fit, when to give you the notes I’d written, and asked her to slow you down on the way to the opium den to give me time to get there first.”

“Wait...the clothes, the Hugh Boone disguise...?” Matthias began.

“I provided everything from the theatre I work at.” Polly revealed.

“And the blood on the window sill?” Matthias questioned.

“I needed to give you enough clues to work things out. It was a minor cut, no bother.” Kaz said, inspecting his hand.

“But you couldn’t have known for sure I’d work it out and ask to see your hand!” Matthias exclaimed.

“No, but I had to do it in case you did. It’d be unfair otherwise.” Kaz shrugged.

“Oh, right! That would have been unfair!” Matthias shook his head. “So, you invented the story of a man secretly working as a busker getting caught up with a local gang and dragging his wife into the mess before going missing. You inserted yourself, a hired actress and your colleague into it and left a few clues to see if I could piece any of it together? As a test?”

“Very well summarised.” Kaz said.

“You mean to tell me you’ve spent the last month going around Ketterdam in disguise as a busker just to set all this up?” Matthias asked.

“I’ve spent the last two years going around as Boone. I knew it would be part of a test one day; I was just waiting for the right new hire to use it on.”

“I genuinely did befriend Hugh.” Jesper said. “Kaz didn’t tell me it was actually him for nine bloody months.”

“I thought having Jesper be able to vouch for Hugh might help throw you off the scent for a bit.” Kaz said. “I tried to leave a few hints towards the actual truth. I made sure to be as absent from the case as possible, and kept my limp while disguised as Hugh – exaggerating it, in fact – in case you might draw that parallel between us. Though I also asked Inej to keep her distance so my absence wasn’t too notable.”

“How kind of you. Thanks for all your help!” Matthias groaned. “I can’t believe this!”

“There’s no need to be frustrated, Helvar. You did well. You worked out enough of my fabricated tale to put the pressure on Hugh to the point that I believe he’d have relented and told the truth.” Kaz said.

“We’ve all been there.” Inej added.

“I’m glad I didn’t get your case, Matthias.” Wylan said. “I only had to find a missing cat. You did a brilliant job!”

“But what about Lawrence? The big guy? Was he a hired actor too?” Matthias asked.

“He’s part of the story, but there is no real Lawrence.” Kaz revealed. “I’d hoped you would put together that the mysterious ‘big guy’ could only fit into the story as an ally to Hugh and must have been the one to leave Kate the messages, but perhaps I needed to set up more clues for that.”

“No, he pushed you into us!” Matthias turned to Jesper.

Jesper winced. “I threw myself into you. It was a ploy to give Kaz more time to get ready if he needed it. I made sure I would be the first one to get inside.”

“I think that’s all we’ll need from you, Polly. I’ll send the second half of your salary in the morning.” Kaz turned to Polly and nodded.

“It’s been a pleasure.” Polly bowed, shuffling close to Matthias and sliding a small card into his hand. “I’m not actually married. If you fancy a bit of fun, that’s my address.”

With a wink, she made her way outside and vanished into the stream of people walking by.

“And they say romance is dead.” Nina grovelled.

“If you’re not interested, I’ll take it.” Jesper gestured at the card with great interest.

Without saying a word, Matthias headed for the front door and opened it.

“Where are you going?” Wylan asked.

“Home. You can keep your job. I’m not a dancing monkey only here to entertain.” Matthias seethed. “I’ll never be able to trust a single one of you. I’m rejoining the force.”

He ignored the voices calling out for him to come back and stormed down the street.

...

Matthias almost ignored the knock on his apartment door that evening, but knew that should it be one of the Crows they would stand there for as long as they needed to before he answered. He was, however, surprised to find Nina was the one stood before him.

“Did Kaz send you?” Matthias asked.

“No, he doesn’t know I’m here.” Nina said. “It’s not going to help my argument that you should stay, but in the name of transparency...he didn’t say another word about you after you stormed out. It’s no skin off his back whether you stick around or not.”

“Charming.” Matthias said.

“He can be a massive knob, I know.” Nina sighed. “Can I come in?”

Matthias stepped aside and watched as she walked in and took a look around. “Trying to see what you can deduce about me from my choice of paint on the walls?”

“Saints, no. I’m off duty.” Nina laughed. “It could use another coat, mind.”

“I’ve been busy being sent on a wild goose chase.” Matthias moaned.

“...I remember that annoyance. We all do. Kaz sometimes forgets we’re not his little playthings, and sometimes we forget that impressing him isn’t our life’s goal.” Nina said. “He just wanted to see what he needs to do to train you further. I’m not defending his methods, but that is what you wanted.”

“He made me jump through hoops like a zoo animal!” Matthias said. “It’s not training, it’s sport. It’s his entertainment. He gave me a convoluted plot and set me up to fail.”

“But you didn’t fail! You worked it out! You heard what Wylan said; he only had to find a cat Kaz had put up a tree a few streets away. He gave you a complicated test because he knew you had the skills to untangle the web. He sees potential in you. It’s a bloody weird compliment, I’ll admit, but it is one nonetheless.” Nina pleaded.

“Why are you trying to convince me to stay? You still despised me this morning.”

“...And this is me trying to make that right.”

“How?”

“By stopping you from throwing this opportunity away.” Nina said. “Being a Crow...it’s brutal. It’s frustrating. It’s relentless. And it’s so wonderful. You’d regret walking away.”

“What was your test?” Matthias asked. “What did Kaz have you do?”

Nina let out a deep sigh followed by a chuckle. “He hired someone to come in and say they thought they’d been poisoned. I ended up going all the way to Shu Han tracing the source, only to be told I should have obviously worked out that they were just allergic to plums.”

Matthias couldn’t hold back a loud, hearty laugh. “That’s ridiculous. I’d have killed him.”

“I would have if Inej and Jesper hadn’t held me back. But...it taught me to be more thorough. To rein in my assumptions. I also got a really nice purse at the market there, so I couldn’t stay that mad.”

Matthias smiled. “So you’re saying that it’s worth the numerous drawbacks?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Nina nodded. “Besides, you’ll also have me and three others to rant about Kaz’s bullshit to.”

“...That’s true.”

“Just something to think about. I just...didn’t want to give up on you just yet.” Nina said, inspecting the card Poppy had given Matthias laying on the table. “If nothing else, you might have gotten yourself a date out of all of this. She was gorgeous.”

“Give it to Jesper. I’m not interested.” Matthias said.

“I see. Already seeing someone, or...?”

“No. Just...not looking for anything like that right now.”

Nina nodded, heading for the door and opening it. “In my experience, people always tend to find things when they’re not looking for them.”

“Good things?” Matthias asked.

“Oh, I hope not.” Nina smirked. “...Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.” Matthias said, watching her leave with the hint of a smile.

...

“Here we sit, full of anticipation, wondering if Matthias Helvar will walk through the door.” Jesper said the following morning. “Why must it always come down to this?”

“On a scale of one to ten, how convincing were you?” Wylan turned from his desk to ask Nina.

“I’m always a ten.” Nina said.

“I’d understand if he doesn’t come back. He’s allowed to be angry.” Inej noted.

“If he’s angry, imagine how I feel!” Jesper sighed. “I was in close proximity of Kaz Brekker without a stitch of clothing on and didn’t get to see a damn thing. That’s injustice.”

“How you can lust after someone with a haircut that bad is beyond me.” Nina laughed.

“We’d gone a long time without the haircut joke.” Inej smiled.

Nina grinned. “I’ll never forget the classics.”

A few minutes passed, and everyone’s faces soon brightened when Matthias appeared, walking in and settling at his desk. Kaz emerged from his office moments later.

“I don’t need to start the search for another Crow, then?” He remarked.

“Only if you’re willing to buy another desk.” Matthias said.

“I think the six of us will do.” Inej noted.

“Just the right amount.” Nina nodded, looking in Matthias’ direction smugly. “What made you change your mind?”

“Not what. Who.” Matthias said, flicking through the folder on his desk.

Nina studied him for a moment and smiled. Nice haircut.

Chapter Text

Inej walked into Crow Consultations with that morning’s freshly printed newspaper in hand. She bid Wylan, Nina and Matthias a good morning and knocked on the door of Kaz’s office.

“Come in.” Kaz said from inside the room.

Inej entered, handing him the paper. “As requested last night.”

“I’ll add it to the collection.” Kaz said, spreading the newspaper out and placing it on top of three other newspapers he’d already been inspecting.

“I thought you only read the obituaries.” Inej smirked.

“You paint a very morbid picture of me.” Kaz said, skimming through the newspaper and eventually finding what he was looking for. “Here we are...interesting. The police are idiots no matter where you go, aren’t they?”

“I thought you hated these sorts of articles. Boring nonsense, I believe you said? Trivial gossip?” Inej noted, looking over at the articles Kaz had been reading.

“They are. Usually.”

“And what’s changed over the last few days?”

“We got a new client, and I needed information. I’ve been up all night researching to fix an up-to-date narrative in my head.” Kaz explained.

“Who’s the client? Something to do with a wedding?” Inej asked, pointing at one of the articles.

Kaz raised an eyebrow at her. “You don’t know? You read the papers, don’t you?”

“I suppose I let your constant whining about them get to me.” Inej said. “What’s the situation?”

“I’ll explain when I tell the others. It’s been a quiet week so we can all work on this one.” Kaz said. “The police have jumped the gun with an arrest, as usual. Is Jesper here yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Typical.”

“To be fair, he’s still got five minutes before we’re actually supposed to start work.” Inej said pointedly.

“I’m not sure I like your tone, Miss Ghafa.” Kaz said, cutting an articles out of the paper and sticking it onto a blackboard.

“Give me a raise and I’ll change it.” Inej smirked, inspecting the clippings on the board. “Lord Robert Simon of Belendt. Why does he sound familiar?”

“He won the Nobel Prize in Medicine last year.” Kaz said.

“And is he getting married?”

“He got married.” Kaz said. “And less than an hour later, the bride disappeared.”

“And that’s why you’re suddenly interested in gossip.” Inej nodded.

“I don’t know if I’m interested yet, but I’ll hear him out. He’ll be here soon.”

“Lord Simon’s coming here? We’ve got a Nobel Prize winner as a client?”

“Indeed we do. He read about our involvement in solving Enoch Drebber’s murder.”

“Kaz, that’s a big deal! We’re really starting to get noticed, aren’t we?” Inej asked.

“That was the idea.” Kaz shrugged.

Inej folded her arms. “Have you ever been excited for anything in your life?”

“I found fifty kruge on the floor once.” Kaz said. “And for the record, I don’t whine. I complain.”

Inej rolled her eyes and left the office, swiftly followed by Kaz rolling the blackboard of newspaper clippings into the room and placing it by the front door. Kaz stared at his watch for a moment, eventually lowering his arm at the telltale sign of Jesper running straight into the door and swearing loudly.

“You have to pull it!” Nina exclaimed.

“I know, I know!” Jesper groaned, rubbing his forehead as he hurried inside. “I remember at least seventy percent of the time. And I’m NOT late!”

“Which we can’t say seventy percent of the time.” Wylan smirked.

“Quiet, former ‘new guy’.” Jesper pointed at Wylan dramatically, sinking into his desk. “Oh, the blackboard is out! Serious business, then.”

“If you consider a Nobel Prize winner to be serious business.” Inej said excitedly.

“I think that counts, yeah.” Jesper nodded.

“Lord Robert Simon of Belendt recently got engaged to Hatty Doran, the daughter of Duke Aloysius of The Wandering Isle. He’d tried courting her during several visits to the Isle, but it seems winning the Nobel Prize for Medicine last year finally won her affections. She moved across the sea to live with him in Belendt, and two months later – that being last Sunday – they were married. By Sunday afternoon, she was gone. No one’s seen or heard from her since.” Kaz explained.

“I take it the police got involved?” Nina asked.

“Their investigation is ongoing, but Lord Simon is desperate for answers. I received a letter from him yesterday asking for our services. He’s on his way to the office, and if we take his case we’ll be going back to Belendt with him.” Kaz said.

“Approval from a Nobel Prize winner would be good for business.” Jesper noted.

“We have to take the case!” Wylan exclaimed. “He’s a visionary! He revolutionised the development of dissolvable capsules!”

“I understood about three of those words. ‘He’, ‘the’ and ‘of’. Anyone else?” Jesper shrugged.

“Is no one going to raise the possibility that he killed her?” Matthias asked.

“Someone woke up on the cynical side of the bed this morning.” Jesper sighed.

“Is there a motive for murder?” Inej questioned.

“The Simon and Doran union would prove particularly beneficial for him. He has a fairly small estate due to how much he pours into his work, and she will bring the money to allow him to flourish personally and professionally. The Dorans are extremely popular over here as well as in their home country. The more popular you are, the more doors open for you, the more funding you get for projects.” Kaz said.

“So he gets her money and popularity then bumps her off?” Nina shook her head. “Seems too risky with someone so beloved, and with her father surely sniffing around.”

“Not to mention the damage this publicity could have on his reputation.” Wylan noted.

“I’m hoping Lord Simon can provide details not mentioned in the papers.” Kaz said.

“What else is mentioned?” Matthias asked.

“It was a small ceremony at a local church. Apparently a woman named Flora Miller caused a scene at the house when they returned but was escorted away. During lunch, Hatty complained of a headache and retired to her room. When Lord Simon went to check on her later, Hatty’s maid Alice informed him that she had left in a hurry some time ago in the presence of a woman who matched Flora Miller’s description.” Kaz revealed. “The police have since taken Miller into custody.”

“So she killed her?” Matthias speculated.

“Why does she have to be dead?!” Nina argued.

Matthias shrugged. “People are horrible.”

“I hope she’s alive.” Kaz said.

“Thank you, Brekker!” Nina exclaimed.

“It’s boring if she isn’t.” Kaz added.

Nina sighed. “I give up.”

“You think Flora is innocent?” Inej turned to Kaz.

“The details in the papers are pretty damning, but I wonder if the police are just desperate to charge anyone to wrap up a high-profile case as quickly as possible.” Kaz said.

The discussion ended with a loud knock on the door.

“That’ll be Lord Simon.” Kaz announced.

“At least I know he isn’t one of you in disguise this time.” Matthias groaned.

“Didn’t you know Kaz has an identical twin brother?” Nina smirked.

“Don’t get my hopes up like that.” Jesper whispered with a smile.

Kaz opened the door to a tall, thin figure with a large black hood shielding their face. They stepped inside and lowered it, revealing a man with sad eyes, thinning hair and a light moustache.

“Lord Simon, thank you for coming.” Kaz said. “Welcome to Crow Consultations.”

“Thank you for seeing me.” Lord Simon nodded. “It’s a terrible business. Just terrible. I only hope that we can find my wife as soon as possible. Forgive my unnerving attire; I didn’t want to be recognised.”

“I’m a big fan!” Wylan stood up, immediately turning red with embarrassment and sinking back into his seat. Jesper bit his hand to hold back his laughter.

“Oh, um...well, thank you.” Lord Simon muttered.

“If we are to travel back to Belendt with you, we’d best hear your complete version of events immediately to avoid a wasted day.” Kaz stated, shooting Wylan an irritated glance.

“Quite so.” Lord Simon said.

“How did you and your wife meet?” Kaz asked.

“Through her father, Duke Aloysius. He invited me to their home in The Wandering Isle just over a year ago for a spectacular gathering along with several other bachelors; I believe he was hoping his daughter would find herself a husband among us.” Lord Simon explained. “She struck me as a charming young woman. Confident and outspoken. I will admit I was immediately taken with her. We spoke for a while during the evening, and across several other visits in the following months. I could sense she was fond of me, but I wouldn’t say she was entirely convinced by the idea of marriage.”

“Until you won the Nobel Prize?” Inej wondered.

“That was the turning point, yes, but I must make it clear she had no desire for more money or favour than she already possessed. I do believe the Duke made his feelings on the matter very clear to her that she would do well marrying the recipient of such an honour, and it was then that she requested I propose.” Lord Simon replied. “She moved into my estate in Belendt the following week, and two months later we were wed.”

“Was she excited for the wedding?” Nina asked.

Lord Simon nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes. She planned most of it personally, and often spoke to me about plans for the future. House renovations, a trip for our one month anniversary...I do believe she was genuine in her happiness with me. If truth be told, I suffer over the thought that she wasn’t.”

“So, things were good? You were both happy? What about the morning of the wedding?” Matthias questioned.

“Very happy, yes! She was terribly excited when we saw each other dressed up, and as she greeted the guests.” Lord Simon revealed.

“And during the ceremony?” Jesper said.

“Again, she was most enthused. It was only as we were walking out that a change seemed to wash over her. She’d dropped the bouquet as we left, you see, and while the damage was minimal her entire attitude seemed to sour as if the whole day had been ruined.” Lord Simon recalled. “She was quite apologetic when we returned to the house for a celebratory dinner with the guests, and all seemed well again until halfway through our meal. She said she had a headache and retired to her bedroom.”

“When did you realise she was missing?” Kaz asked.

“About half an hour later, the Duke suggested I go and check on her. I wasn’t going to disobey my new father-in-law, of course, so I hurried upstairs and came across her maid, Alice. Alice has been Hatty’s maid since she was twenty, and moved over to Belendt alongside her. They know each other very well. Alice explained that Hatty had immediately come upstairs, wrapped herself up in a long black coat and said she needed some air.” Lord Simon said. “Alice then saw her through a window hurrying across the park behind our house with who appeared to be Flora Miller. I passed this information on to the Duke, and he called the police.”

“You believe Flora Miller could have kidnapped your wife? Or wanted harm to come to her?” Matthias wondered.

“I would never say that was in Flora’s nature. She’d made a scene when we first returned after the ceremony, having been there waiting for us, but I can’t imagine her hurting anyone despite her jealousy.” Lord Simon said.

Kaz folded his arms. “Why was she jealous?”

“We’ve known each other since we were very young. She’s made no secret of her affections for me, but while I am fond of her company I have never reciprocated her feelings. She nevertheless believed we would one day be wed, and was angry to hear of my engagement to Hatty.” Lord Simon explained.

“And Hatty’s maid, Alice...you were very specific about how long she’d served Hatty for.” Kaz noted.

“Hatty was twenty when she was hired, yes. That was how old Hatty was when her father quite literally struck gold in his field and made a fortune for himself. They were quite poor before that. I believe that is why Hatty has maintained such grace in her conduct with the less fortunate, having been in their position herself, and that’s why she is beloved in her homeland.” Lord Simon said.

“Did she live on The Wandering Isle her whole life until moving to Belendt?” Jesper asked.

“Yes.” Lord Simon confirmed.

“Was she sad to leave her life there behind? Her friends?” Inej wondered.

“She kept herself to herself; Alice was her only true friend, and of course she came to Belendt with her. She seemed to enjoy exploring a new part of the world.” Lord Simon said.

“Who else attended the wedding?” Kaz asked.

“Duke Aloysius, my siblings Eustace and Clara and a few members of the public.” Lord Simon recalled.

“The public?”

“It was an open church; it would be difficult to stop the general public entering. There were three or four of them present.”

“Did you recognise any of them?”

“Not at all, no.”

“None of them seemed out of the ordinary?”

“Not as far as I could tell.”

“Well, it’s clear something or someone from her life on The Wandering Isle spooked her during the wedding ceremony and caused her to flee. But who, or what?” Kaz said.

“How have you concluded that?!” Lord Simon asked incredulously.

“A wedding she was previously excited for and actively involved in the planning of? She wouldn’t just change her regard for it without good reason. You said her mood soured after dropping the bouquet, yes? So what did she see in that moment that convinced her to run a mile and disappear at the first chance she got? I’m not sure any connection to someone or something could do that unless it was a business from her past in The Wandering Isle she thought long forgotten. If something over the last two months in Belendt could have triggered her disappearance, you’d have surely seen signs of it earlier than immediately after the ceremony.” Kaz explained.

“I...I suppose that makes sense.” Lord Simon conceded. “But what spooked her so tremendously?”

“I have a few ideas, but we’ll need to investigate things further. Do you think we’ll be able to look around the church? And your estate?” Kaz asked.

“Of course.” Lord Simon nodded.

Kaz’s eyes were bright with intrigue. “Excellent. We’ll take the case. Everyone, go home and pack a bag for an overnight stay in Belendt. We’ll meet at the train station in an hour.”

...

Lord Simon had set off for Belendt immediately, while the Crows spent the next hour gathering their things and assembling at the train station. Kaz purchased the tickets, and before long the group were squeezed into their own carriage and on their way to the source of their latest case.

“I’ve never been to Belendt before. How exciting!” Nina beamed, turning to Matthias sat on her left. “I suppose you haven’t either?”

“I’m not well-suited for travel.” Matthias said.

“Belendt is lovely. There’s a music school there I always wish I could’ve gone to. It looks like paradise compared to Ketterdam.” Wylan noted.

“No one forces you to live there, you know.” Jesper said.

Wylan raised an eyebrow. “And miss out on chances to meet Nobel Prize winners?”

“Miss out on chances of making yourself look like a crazy fan in front of Nobel Prize winners.” Jesper smirked. “Poor guy must’ve thought he had another Flora Miller to deal with.”

Wylan, disheartened, went quiet and turned to look out the window.

“Oh, come on, Hendriks. I didn’t mean it.” Jesper laughed. “I’m not one to be taken seriously.”

“Oh, I know.” Wylan said, his gaze fixated on the passing scenery.

“...What’s that supposed to mean?” Jesper asked.

Matthias looked around, and could tell by the look on everyone’s faces that Jesper and Wylan have had that same argument plenty of times before. He thought back a few weeks to when Wylan had started to tell a story about Jesper before being interrupted. “Don’t say a word to him, but a few weeks after I started working here we’d both had a bit to drink and-”

What happened next? Was that when this tension between them began? Matthias was afraid the opportunity to find out wouldn’t come along again.

Next to a now stroppy Jesper, Kaz and Inej had shared a look as if to say ‘here we go again’. Matthias sensed a closeness between the two of them he hadn’t taken much notice of before, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what kind it was.

Nina, meanwhile, had definitely shuffled slightly closer to him since they sat down. They were getting along well now. Really well, it seemed.

In time, they arrived in Belendt. It was a city of bright stone buildings interspersed amongst lush greenery and bordered by a beautiful lake; a stark contrast to Ketterdam. Lord Simon met them at the station with two private carriages ready and waiting.

“Would you like to see the estate first?” Lord Simon asked.

“Very much so.” Kaz replied.

It was a short ride to the edge of the city, where Lord Simon’s modest but beautiful estate stood proudly. It was a large, marble property with a glass conservatory at the back, surrounded by an elegant gold fencing. The carriages entered through the main gate, stopping at a long gravel pathway leading down to the house. Everyone hopped out and took in the view.

“At times like these I hate my apartment.” Jesper sighed and turned to Lord Simon. “Wanna swap?”

Kaz noted two policemen stood guarding the entrance of the house. “How long have they been there?”

“Since we reported Hatty missing.” Lord Simon said. “Just in case it was a kidnapping and the one responsible isn’t done with us yet.”

Kaz rolled his eyes. “I see.”

“Would you like a tour?”

“Not really.” Kaz said. “You said there’s a park behind your house? The one where Hatty was seen by her maid walking with Flora Miller?”

“Yes.”

“Right.” Kaz thought for a moment. “And where did you host the dinner where Hatty retired early to her room?”

“In the conservatory at the back of the house.”

“Right at the back?”

“Yes.”

“Can you see the park from the conservatory?”

“I should think so.”

“Did you have your back to the windows?”

“Yes.”

“And Hatty sat opposite you or next to you?”

“Opposite me.”

“Very good.” Kaz said. “That will be all. Let’s go to the church.”

Lord Simon scratched his head. “...You...don’t want to go inside?”

“There’s no need. I know all I need to know.” Kaz shrugged.

“I bet it’s a bloody nice house though, Kaz...” Nina pleaded.

“We’re here to work, not gawp.” Kaz said, turning back to Lord Simon. “The church, then?”

“Very good.” Lord Simon said. “The police suggested a reconstruction of the wedding to see if I remembered something I’d overlooked in the moment. With all of you here to make up the numbers, I think we could proceed.”

“Can we get dressed up?!” Jesper asked excitedly.

“It would make sense. You know, for accuracy’s sake.” Nina smirked at Kaz.

Kaz sighed. “...Fine.”

“I have plenty of clothes for you all to search through if needed. I’m sure Hatty’s dresses would be suitable.” Lord Simon said.

“They’ll find their own clothes.” Kaz stated firmly.

“It’s no trouble if-”

“-They’ll find their own clothes, Lord Simon.” Kaz repeated forcefully.

Lord Simon swallowed nervously. “Of course. Quite right.”

“We’ll go to the nearest clothing store. If you don’t pick something in ten minutes, you’re sticking with what you’ve got on, understood?” Kaz turned and headed back towards the carriage, briefly looking at Inej as he went. Matthias thought he saw a slight smile on her face as Kaz passed her.

In what could only be described as an overdramatic dash, the Crows (except Kaz, who opted to remain in what he was wearing) hurried to the store and purchased appropriate – and extortionate – suits and dresses. Returning to the private carriages, they swiftly ventured on and soon reached the church where Lord Simon and Hatty Doran had been married just days prior.

“I’ll have to wear this every day for about six years to get my money’s worth.” Nina noted, adjusting her new pink dress as she descended out of the carriage.

Jesper stared at his reflection in the window of the church. “Oh, I look good. We all look good.”

“I wish they had this in a smaller size.” Wylan said, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt.

“You clean up well, Hendriks.” Jesper winked, leaving a blushing Wylan in his wake as he approached the church entrance with Lord Simon and Kaz. A man in a black suit and brown overcoat stood there ready to greet them.

“This is Detective Hardcastle. Detective, this is Kaz Brekker of Crow Consultations.” Lord Simon announced. “Anything you can say to me you can say to him and his colleagues.”

“I assure you further assistance in this matter was unnecessary, Lord Simon, but we won’t turn help away now it’s here.” Hardcastle said. “Are you ready to go ahead with the reconstruction?”

“I am. Mr Brekker and his team can make up the numbers.” Lord Simon confirmed.

The church was on the small side, with two sets of pews made up on only four short rows. Several officers sat on them, directed by Lord Simon to sit in the same spots as the guests had been, with Jesper, Nina, Matthias and Wylan taking the places of the members of the public who had been present. Inej had volunteered to portray the bride, while Kaz and Hardcastle were to oversee proceedings.

Matthias and Nina, who had been told to sit together, watched from afar – and with great amusement – as Kaz slowly lost his mind over the slow and tedious reconstruction. Lord Simon was determined to remember his vows word-for-word in case it helped somehow, and Hardcastle didn’t even end up staying after being summoned outside by a fellow officer.

“So, how do you think we knew each other?” Nina asked. “You know, our characters, if you will?”

“I thought we were just random members of the public?” Matthias replied.

“Yes, but if Lord Simon remembered it right then they were sat together. Maybe we’re married?”

“Or brother and sister?”

“We look nothing alike.”

Matthias chuckled. “I’m not sure that reasoning can apply here.”

“True. Maybe they were undercover police.” Nina speculated.

“Maybe we’re representing the people responsible for all of this?” Matthias noted.

“Is it bad that I really hope so?”

Matthias smiled. “Yes.”

Nina laughed a bit too loudly, and Kaz stared over at them threateningly. He put a finger to his lips. Nina showed him a different finger in return.

“I’ll get in trouble for that one.” Nina whispered.

“I didn’t see anything.” Matthias said.

Nina smiled sweetly at him. “...I’m glad you stuck around.”

“I think I am too.” Matthias smiled back, returning his attention to the reconstruction.

Lord Simon and Inej linked arms and turned to face the spectators as they finished retreading the ceremony. They took a few steps down the aisle, and Lord Simon suddenly stopped at the second row of pews from the front. He turned to the pew on Inej’s side, where Wylan was sat on his own.

“Here.” He said. “Hatty dropped the bouquet here.”

“And she just carried on walking with you after she picked it back up?” Kaz questioned.

“Yes, I...no. She didn’t pick it up herself. The gentleman in the pew handed it to her.” Lord Simon said.

“One of the members of the public?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting...” Kaz said quietly. He looked at all the police officers in turn. “Just a hint: you should probably write that down.”

A smug looking Hardcastle burst back into the church, a large grin plastered across his face. “Now we’ve really got her, Lord Simon. I don’t think it’s necessary to waste everyone’s time here any longer.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve got who?” Lord Simon asked.

“Flora Miller.” Hardcastle said. “I’m sorry, sir, but I have to inform you that you should prepare yourself for the worst. We’re currently searching the lake for your wife’s body.”

“What news have you received?” Kaz demanded.

“We found Mrs Simon’s wedding dress half-submerged at the edge of the lake. It must have washed ashore. We believe her body should be in the surrounding waters.” Hardcastle said. Lord Simon sat down on a pew, trembling.

“Because she’d removed her dress?” Kaz rolled her eyes. “What about the long black coat she’d worn over the top of it?”

“No sign of that, sir.”

“I see. And how exactly does the discovery of the dress further incriminate Flora Miller specifically?” Kaz wondered.

“Because of this note we found in the pocket.” Hardcastle smirked, pulling a slip of paper from his coat and handing it to Kaz. Kaz studied it intimately:

You will spot me when everything is ready. Come at once.

- F.M.

Kaz turned the note over in his hands a few more times. “I agree that this is most conclusive. What do you think?”

He handed the note to Jesper, who had joined them. Jesper examined it for himself and nodded. “We may as well just head to the hotel for the night.”

“I wouldn’t lose hope just yet, Lord Simon.” Kaz turned to his client before addressing Hardcastle again. “And I wouldn’t charge Flora Miller with murder just yet, either. Give me until the morning to bring more evidence to light and then you can proceed as you see fit.”

“I think you’ll find we’re the real detectives here, Mr Brekker.” Hardcastle said firmly.

“Please, detective. Allow them a few more hours of investigation.” Lord Simon begged. “I still can’t believe Flora would commit so heinous a crime, and I would hate to have brought Mr Brekker and his Crows here for so little.”

“...You have until morning. First thing I do when I walk into the station tomorrow is make sure Flora Miller sees justice done.” Hardcastle said.

“That’s all I would like, too.” Kaz said, and Hardcastle departed.

“So you won’t retire to the hotel just yet? You’ll keep investigating?” Lord Simon asked hopefully.

“Oh no, we must go to the hotel. It’s the next logical line of enquiry.” Kaz said.

“...It is?”

“It is. I can categorically say Flora Miller is not the one behind your wife’s disappearance.”

“How so?”

Kaz leant against the opposite pew as the others joined the discussion and the police began filing out of the church. “If the dress had been submerged underwater and came ashore, the paper note found in its pocket would be illegible, if not completely destroyed. The dress must have been placed there purposefully.”

“But couldn’t have Flora placed it there?” Lord Simon questioned.

“Had the police already searched the edge of the lake prior to your coming to see us?” Kaz asked.

“Yes. Several times.”

“Then it can’t have been placed there until more recently. Flora couldn’t have done so, as she’s been in custody.” Kaz explained.

“I see. But the note was sent by an F.M.” Lord Simon recalled.

“I’ll admit that piece of the puzzle doesn’t make sense yet, but a trip to the hotel may clear things up.” Kaz said.

“Why the sudden importance of a hotel?” Wylan asked.

“Hardcastle was too busy patting himself on the back and closing the case to consider the other side of the note could be important.” Jesper revealed. “It's written on the back of a receipt for a hotel bar. The top half of a receipt, to be exact.”

“Could be completely irrelevant, but it’s worth following up on.” Kaz added.

“I see. What should I do in the meantime?” Lord Simon asked.

“Go home and try to relax as best you can.” Inej smiled.

“We’ll be in touch when we know more.” Matthias promised.

As instructed, Lord Simon returned to his estate while the Crows set off for the nearest hotel, hoping it would be the exact one they needed to get more answers.

“I’ll book us some rooms for the night.” Nina announced, heading towards the reception desk.

“And I’ll work my magic at the bar and see what I can learn.” Jesper smirked, venturing off on his own little quest.

“I’ll make sure he behaves.” Kaz sighed and followed him out.

“I just need to get out of this suit.” Wylan grumbled and rushed over to join Nina.

“I didn’t expect our cases to take us out of Ketterdam.” Matthias admitted once alone with Inej.

“It doesn’t happen too often. Is it a problem?” Inej asked.

“Only if we have to get somewhere by boat or ship.” Matthias said. “I...don’t travel well by sea.”

“I’m sure Kaz will take that into account.” Inej nodded.

“...Can I ask you about something?”

“Of course.”

Matthias was unsure how to phrase his question. “When Kaz insisted we get our own clothes earlier, it seemed to spark a reaction from you. Why was that?”

Inej took a moment, and Matthias quickly realised he was delving into territory she wasn’t comfortable with.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He added.

“No, it’s fine.” Inej said. “It’s just...not my favourite time to relive.”

“...Oh.”

“Everyone else knows about it, so why not you?” Inej said, breathing deeply and steeling herself. “...When I first joined the Crows, it was just Kaz and Jesper. They’d been hired to investigate a murder at one of Ketterdam’s pleasure houses by its owner, Heleen Van Houden. The Menagerie, it was called. One of the girls had been killed by an unhappy client. Heleen didn’t want the police involved for obvious reasons. I...I was one of the girls there. The lynx, Heleen called me. She gave us all names like that. We were animals to her, not people. Playthings.”

Matthias was stunned. “I...see.”

“Not what you expected to hear, was it?” Inej smiled sadly.

“Did you know her? The girl who was killed?”

“Not well, but yes. She was sweet. You see, I...I was taken from my family when I was young. I was shipped over to Ketterdam and Heleen...bought me.”

“...I’m sorry.” Matthias sighed. “I...look, you don’t have to-”

“-It’s okay.” Inej nodded. “Kaz and Jesper realised that it wasn’t an angry client at all; Heleen had killed the girl in a rage. She’d strike us sometimes, but it had never gone that far before. She’d set it up to look as if a client had done it and hired Kaz and Jes to try and sweep it under the rug. She completely underestimated their abilities. I offered to help any way I could, and Kaz asked me to sneak into Heleen’s office and make an impression of her shoe. It helped prove she’d been there during the girl’s time of death and forced a confession out of her. She was arrested, The Menagerie was shut down, and all our contracts were torn up. We were free.”

“What did you do then?”

“I didn’t know what to do. I had no means of getting back to my family, or even finding out where they were. I had no money. Then...Kaz offered me a job with the Crows. He offered to rent an apartment for me if I worked to pay him back. When the debt was paid, I could stay or I could go. I liked what the Crows did, and when the time came I stayed.” Inej explained. “Heleen and our clients always made us wear such awful, demeaning things. Dresses they went insane over and thought they had power over us when we were wearing them. Kaz, he...he swore I would never have clothes forced upon me again. No one would mark me again. What he told Lord Simon today...that was him keeping his promise.”

“...You might just be the strongest person I know.” Matthias observed.

Inej smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder. “And don’t ever forget it.”

Nina and Wylan quickly returned with keys to their hotel rooms, and before long Kaz and Jesper also reappeared from the bar area.

“Anything?” Nina asked.

“Potentially, very much.” Kaz nodded. “I need to go out and make some arrangements. The rest of you, feel free to do as you please. Within reason, Jesper.”

Jesper folded his arms. “There was no need for that. I just got some very insightful information for you!”

“Did you flirt with the woman at the bar for intel?” Nina wondered.

“Expertly.” Jesper beamed. “This was the hotel the receipt came from. I expect Kaz wants the rest saved for a big, dramatic reveal.”

Kaz smirked. “It’s the proper way of doing business. I think the mystery of the missing bride is practically solved. I doubt I’ll be back until late. Don’t wait up for me.”

Kaz took a key from Nina, spoke briefly with the receptionist and hurried out of the hotel without another word.

“So, Hatty isn’t dead?” Matthias asked.

“I don’t believe so.” Jesper said. “But I think the poor old Lord’s still going to get his heart broken.”

...

The rest of the Crows spent the day talking in their hotel rooms and spending the evening having a few drinks at the bar. As expected, Kaz didn’t show, and eventually everyone went to bed. The next morning, Jesper came down into reception to find the others were all already awake and waiting for him.

“Kaz left us a message.” Inej revealed, handing Jesper the card that had been left for them at reception.

'Flora Miller released without charge this morning.

When the last one of you wakes up When Jesper wakes up, come to Lord Simon’s house for breakfast, and we can put this case to bed.

- Kaz'

“That man has no respect for me.” Jesper moaned.

“He was absolutely right.” Matthias noted.

“Not important!” Jesper threw his arms up.

“Let’s just go and see what he has to say at breakfast.” Nina suggested, and everyone made their way to Lord Simon’s estate on the next carriage they could get. The marble house looked particularly pleasant with the early morning sun reflecting in its windows.

They were met at the door by the butler, and shown through to the conservatory at the back of the house, where a long table packed with a delicious selection of food greeted them. Sat at one end of the table were Kaz and a very glum Lord Simon.

“Lord Simon, this place is beautiful.” Nina exclaimed, looking around.

“More beautiful with company.” Lord Simon nodded solemnly. “Please, join us.”

“We’re just waiting on two more guests.” Kaz said, and the doorbell echoed through the house at that precise moment. “I expect this will be them now.”

A few moments later, just as everyone had settled into seats at the breakfast table, the butler returned with two people at his side, a man and a woman. Lord Simon stood up, staring at them both silently.

Inej recognised the woman from the newspaper. “Hatty...”

“Good morning, everyone.” Hatty bowed her head, as did her companion. She approached Lord Simon with tearful, regretful eyes. “Robert...you must be very angry with me.”

“I certainly am.” Lord Simon said.

Hatty gestured to the man beside her. “This is Frank.”

“Yes, I recognise you from our wedding.” Lord Simon said. “How nice to put a name to the face.”

“I’m truly sorry for how this has turned out.” Frank sighed. “I...we...never intended for anyone to be hurt.”

“And yet you allowed it to happen all the same.” Lord Simon sat back down, unable to look either of the new arrivals in the eye.

“Introductions, anyone?” Nina suggested. “Hello! I’m confused.”

“I expect so. Mr Brekker has told me all about your investigation, and I deeply regret how many people we’ve troubled.” Hatty said. “I owe you all my side of the story.”

“Then don’t delay it any further. I’m hungry.” Kaz said. “Tell us everything, Mrs Moulton.”

“As you know, Robert, my father and I only came into our fortune within the last eight years. Before that, we had very little. But I was happy...mainly because I was in love.” Hatty began, turning to Frank. “Frank and I have loved one another since we were young. His parents, the Moultons, loved me dearly too, as I did them. We were engaged to be married, but when my father became rich, he forbid our union. He said someone with the fortune I would soon inherit had no business marrying a penniless factory worker anymore.”

“Where is the Duke?” Frank wondered.

“Still asleep in the guest room, dreaming about where his daughter could possibly be.” Lord Simon said bitterly. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear all of this.”

“Robert...” Hatty began, but the sentence faded from her lips. “...Frank wanted to prove he was still worthy of my hand, so joined the army. I promised him I would never marry another, that I was his and his alone. We decided that if that were the case, we may as well marry immediately, and when he’s won my father’s approval after his service all will be well. We arranged everything and wed in secret. Only Frank and I knew I was now Hatty Moulton. Frank went away, but a few months later we received word that he’d been killed in action. I was heartbroken. Devastated. I mourned for years. I never stopped mourning, not truly.”

“...And then?” Lord Simon prompted.

“Eventually, my father began pressing me on the issue of marriage and continuing our family legacy, inviting potential suitors from all over the world to extravagant parties so I could meet them. Among these men was Robert. After a few more visits from him, and especially after he won the Nobel Prize, my father was certain we would make a perfect union.” Hatty continued. “I was – am – very fond of you, Robert, and I hoped to love you the way I could sense you loved me. I truly would have tried, and even if not...I knew a life with you would be a happy one. I embraced the future fully and completely. So I implore you to imagine my surprise on our wedding day, seconds after we marry, when I look at the spectators sat in the pews and see my Frank there, alive and well. The shock of it made me drop my bouquet. Frank picked it up and handed it back to me, and I tried to carry on as normal. Had I made a mistake? How could he possibly be alive? To my shame, I let the shock and anger and frustration affect my mood greatly.”

“What did you do next?” Wylan asked, completely engrossed.

“On the carriage ride back to the house, I realised Frank had prepared a note for me and hidden it in my bouquet as he’d handed it back. It said to come and meet him as soon as he revealed himself to me. I took the note from the flowers and hid it in the pocket of my dress.” Hatty explained.

“So the note from an F.M. was from you?” Nina pointed at Frank.

“Frank Moulton, yes.” Frank nodded. “It was an awful coincidence that it would later make this Flora Miller woman look guilty when Hatty disappeared.”

“I tried to keep it together as we dined in the conservatory. Maybe it was all a dream? Luckily, Robert’s childhood friend Flora had been waiting for us at the gates of the house and caused a scene, claiming it should be her marrying Robert instead, but she was escorted away. I used the incident as an excuse to explain my sudden nerves.” Hatty revealed. “But then I looked out the window and saw Frank stood at the other end of the park immediately behind the house, waving at me. I feigned a headache as an excuse to leave, and rushed upstairs to find my maid, Alice, who I’d told all about Frank and had met him on several occasions. With limited time, she helped me conceal my dress in a long black coat to avoid attracting attention and sneak out the front doors without being noticed.”

“Did...did you hesitate at all?” Lord Simon asked, clearly devastated.

“...I wish I could have explained it at the time, Robert, but my father was sat right there and...I knew he wouldn’t let me go.” Hatty said. “Flora was once again waiting at the gates, and chased me all the way over to the park and partway across the field before she gave up, which unbeknownst to me Alice had witnessed from my bedroom window. She’d have only been checking that I made it safely to Frank.”

Lord Simon sighed. “And the sweethearts were finally reunited.”

“I’d been a prisoner of war, but believed dead. My captors finally let me go, and it was only when I returned to The Wandering Isle that I learned of all that had happened in the interim years. I read about Hatty’s engagement in the local papers and hurried to Belendt. There was no mention of an address for her, so I couldn’t make direct contact, but one article mentioned the church the wedding was to take place in. I waited, and made sure I was there for the wedding with a note I’d prepared, hoping to get a chance to give it to Hatty.” Frank explained. “When we reunited at the park, I explained everything to her, and brought her back to the lodgings I’d just acquired in case I couldn’t contact her at the wedding and needed to stick around.”

“We decided to run away together, but I wanted to give my loved ones a sense of closure. After hiding out for a day or so, I gave Frank my wedding dress to dump near the edge of the lake somewhere to look as if I’d wandered into the water and drowned. I’d completely forgotten about his note still in the pocket.” Hatty said. “We were going to go to Paris this morning, but last night Mr Brekker arrived at the lodgings, having worked out much of our story, and implored us to give Robert the full truth. I quickly understood it was the very least he deserved after what I’d put him through, and I couldn’t let Flora Miller pay for a murder that never occurred. He invited us to dine here for breakfast this morning.”

“I’d explained everything to Lord Simon last night, too. I thought it was best to prepare him.” Kaz said.

“...Quite right.” Lord Simon said defeatedly.

“Go on then, Kaz. I know you want to tell us about how clever you are and how you pieced everything together.” Nina smirked.

“We’d worked out that it must have been something or someone from Hatty’s past in The Wandering Isle that had caused her to disappear immediately after the wedding. The obvious candidates were a lover or family member. But why wouldn’t a family member just be at the wedding? So a lover was the most likely option. We also knew Hatty’s change in mood came after dropping the bouquet, so she’d seen something or someone then.” Kaz began. “When Lord Simon recalled a man he didn’t know had handed Hatty the bouquet back, I could see it made the most sense that he would have been this mysterious lover as she’d dropped it upon seeing him, and the bouquet was an obvious way to have given her his note. This isn’t my first case on the job.”

“Very modest, isn’t he?” Matthias whispered to Wylan.

“I’d already pieced together what occurred at the dinner back at the house. Lord Simon had told me all I needed to know; you could see the park from the conservatory, he was sat away from the windows, and Hatty was sat opposite him...meaning she could see the park. Why the sudden headache as an excuse to leave and then disappear? She must have seen her mysterious man in the park waiting for her, as per his note.” Kaz explained. “The rest I could only work out through the discovery of the wedding dress and said note in the pocket. The note was intact, so it hadn’t been underwater as the police assumed, and it had been written on the back of a receipt of a hotel bar.”

Jesper raised his hand. “Is this where I come in?”

“Yes, Jesper.”

“Sweet!” Jesper stood up excitedly, a half-eaten croissant in his hand. “From what we could see on the receipt, whoever wrote the note had ordered a cocktail and a slice of cake from the bar two nights prior. Pretty extortionate prices, too. Like, wow. Anyway, we went to the closest hotel to check there first, and as luck would have it the items and prices on the menu matched the receipt. The very pretty woman at the bar was so utterly charmed by my good self that she kindly informed me after checking her records that the order came from a Mr Frank Moulton.”

“I checked with the receptionist, who confirmed Mr Moulton had checked out but left a forwarding address should he receive any letters – or, more realistically, if Hatty somehow found out he was staying there and wanted to contact him. I paid a visit to the address, and who should I find there with him but the missing bride herself. From there, the truth came spilling out.” Kaz said. “They came with me to see Detective Hardcastle and ensure Flora Miller’s release, and then I went to see Lord Simon and arranged this morning’s breakfast.”

“I ask too much of you, Robert, but will you tell my father the truth when he wakes? I hope in time he will forgive me, but I know he’d force me to stay here if I told him myself.” Hatty said. Lord Simon remained silent, staring at the floor.

“We can tell him.” Inej nodded.

“Thank you.” Hatty smiled. “Robert...may we all dine together one last time and part ways on good terms? You are a good-hearted, brilliant man...and I do believe I would have come to love you.”

Lord Simon stayed still for a moment, eventually standing up. “I will ensure the marriage is annulled efficiently. I will lick my wounds and throw myself back into my work. But I cannot dine with you, nor can I forgive you or wish you luck with the life of your dreams, for I have just lost the life of mine. Goodbye, Hatty. Mr Brekker, I thank you and your Crows for your service, and bid you all a good morning.”

Saying nothing more, he turned and walked away from the table, retiring upstairs. Hatty let out a deep sigh, wiping a tear from her cheek. With a nod of resignation, she bid everyone farewell and left the estate for the last time with Frank at her side.

It was a quiet, awkward and uncomfortable breakfast, and despite the high quality of the meal, the Crows were more than happy to leave. Within a few hours, they had checked out of the hotel, taken a carriage to the train station and returned to Ketterdam.

“I feel awful for the guy.” Nina sighed as they walked back into Crow Consultations.

“He’s loaded. He’ll get over it.” Jesper shrugged. “He’s got a Nobel Prize; he’ll hardly be short of women desperate to marry him. Maybe he’ll give that Flora a chance now.”

“She may not be a murderer, but she does sound like a stalker.” Wylan noted.

“Whatever happens next, it’s not our problem.” Kaz said.

“Still, it was nice to see somewhere new.” Matthias said.

“And I got a very nice new suit.” Jesper grinned.

“Those dresses! Gorgeous.” Nina smiled. “Inej, you looked absolutely stunning in yours.”

“You have to say that, you’re my friend.” Inej said.

“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong!” Nina argued.

“You can all clock off early. I’ll sort this place out.” Kaz said, dragging the blackboard of newspaper clippings back into his office.

“Music to my ears!” Jesper exclaimed. “Thanks boss!”

As everyone muttered their goodbyes and shuffled out, Inej stayed behind and walked into Kaz’s office, watching from the doorway as he removed the clippings from the blackboard and threw them away. “I take it you won’t be needing the morning paper again tomorrow?”

“That boring nonsense and trivial gossip?” Kaz smirked. “Definitely not.”

“Good. I can stay in bed an extra half an hour, then.” Inej smiled.

Kaz nodded. “And if anyone asks about counting their new clothes as work expenses and getting their money back, tell them to shove it.”

Inej laughed. “Even if Lord Simon’s reward for us is enormous?”

“Especially then. I want a new sign out front.”

“Fine. Thanks for what you said to him, by the way. About the clothes.”

“It’s fine.”

“I wish you’d dressed up too.” Inej smiled.

“I don’t.” Kaz said, hesitating for a second. “You...you did look nice. In your dress.”

“...Thank you.”

“See you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” Inej nodded, stepped outside and walked down the street with a smile. Every now and then, Kaz would let the mask slip when it was just the two of them. A playful look in his eye. A passing compliment he’d later pretend he never gave. A gloved hand tantalisingly close to her own.

She thought of Lord Simon, and how he must have been feeling. She hoped he’d learn to love the idea of love again, despite the world trying to beat it out of him. She’d learned to love it again too, after all. When years at The Menagerie had destroyed her, she found there were ways to allow love back into a broken heart. Through friends. Through sunny days. Through helping people. Through her faith. Through Kaz Brekker letting the mask slip.

Through herself.

Chapter Text

Ketterdam was in the middle of enduring an intense heatwave. Crow Consultations, surrounded by taller buildings that seemed to amplify the heat, felt like working in an oven. The days seemed to last forever and the high temperatures were refusing to relent. Even Kaz, who made a point of always wearing a waistcoat over his shirt, had discarded it during this period of humidity. His gloves, however, remained firmly on.

“Why does Brekker always wear those gloves?” Matthias asked, staring at Kaz through one of his office windows.

“He doesn’t like anyone asking those sorts of questions.” Nina said, fanning herself with a file of documents.

“We don’t know. We’ll never know.” Wylan added.

“He’ll sometimes take them off if he’s undercover, but that’s it. Even then he’s wary of anyone getting too close.” Jesper said.

“We’ve all got our secrets.” Inej said.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Jesper leaned back in his chair with a groan, undoing yet another button of his shirt. “This is not my preferred reason for taking off any clothes.”

“Maybe I could go out and get us some ice cream or something?” Wylan suggested.

“I would love you forever if you did!” Nina grinned. “Quick, go before a client comes!”

Just as Wylan stood up to leave, there was a knock on the front door.

“Crap.” Nina sighed.

Kaz emerged from his office and opened the door, revealing two K.P.D. officers stood there. Matthias recognised his former colleagues, Joran and Nadia, and knew they’d worked with the Crows on several occasions in the past. Nadia carried a small brown parcel in her arm.

“Did you receive our message this morning, Brekker?” Joran asked.

“I did. Come in. I take it this is the one?” Kaz asked, gesturing to the parcel Nadia held.

“Unfortunately so.” Nadia said.

“Are we consulting with the police again?” Wylan wondered.

“They thought this case was in line with our particular flair for mystery.” Kaz said.

“I thought your days working with the Crows were over?” Matthias smirked, getting up and shaking Joran and Nadia’s hands in turn.

“Funny story about that; the detective who wanted to implement that rule abandoned us.” Joran grinned. “Good to see you, sir. How are you settling in?”

“Not so bad.” Matthias nodded. “You all handling the heat okay at the station?”

“I’m very glad to have gotten some fresh air, but it’s boiling in here.” Nadia said. She held up the parcel. “Where can I put this?”

“There’s room here.” Inej said, offering her desk. Nadia appreciatively placed the parcel down, and Inej’s interest was piqued by how relieved Nadia looked to no longer be holding it.

“This one’s really stumped us.” Joran admitted. “And I must warn you all, it gets grisly. This heat and what you’re about to see might be a bad combination.”

“You were vague with the details in your message, so feel free to fill us in.” Kaz prompted.

“Yesterday, a woman named Susan Cushing, forty years of age, received this parcel in the mail. Upon opening it, she found it to be filled with salt. On top was a small origami fox. Miss Cushing was baffled, and swears the fox has no relevance to her that she can think of.” Joran explained.

“I love foxes.” Wylan said quietly.

“And how does a parcel of salt and origami get grisly?” Jesper asked nervously.

“Miss Cushing believed the fox to be the purpose of the package, and it was only when she called the police and they searched it further that we made the discovery.” Nadia winced.

“What discovery?” Kaz asked.

“...Buried in the salt were – are – a pair of human ears.” Joran said.

“Deeply regretting offering my desk.” Inej noted, staring down at the parcel with disgust. Nina and Jesper had their hands over their mouths. Wylan turned away at the thought. Matthias shook his head in bafflement.

Kaz didn’t hesitate to pick the parcel up and take a closer look. “Did the ears do anything to get more information from Susan Cushing?”

“Only a lot of screaming, initially.” Joran noted.

“When we calmed her down, she said she believed it was a prank. She used to let a few rooms in her house out to some medical students, but kicked them out a month ago for bad behaviour. She thinks they’re the ones who could access such...items...to send as a means of frightening her.” Nadia explained.

“Where was it posted from?” Kaz asked.

“Belfast, according to the stamp.” Nadia said. “Susan believed one of the medical students originally came from there; another reason she’s so suspicious of them.”

“I see.” Kaz nodded. “Have you been in touch with the post office there?”

“They said there were so many parcels being sent out it would be difficult to recall the individual package or its sender.” Joran said.

Kaz looked over the parcel once more. He read the crudely written address on the front:

S. Cushing
45 Crane Street
Cetterdam Ketterdam

“Someone unfamiliar with the area.” Kaz concluded. “They spelt Ketterdam with a C and had to correct themselves.”

“Is this the original string used to wrap it?” Nina wondered as she took a closer look.

“Yes.” Nadia confirmed.

“Has it been tied again or is this how it originally arrived?”

“This is how it came. Miss Cushing cut the string rather than untying the knot.”

“Something special about it?” Kaz turned to Nina.

“It’s not a very common knot to use. This is this kind a sailor would tend to use when docking a boat to the port.” Nina noted, a glint in her eye. “I have a passion for sailors.”

“I suppose we should take a look.” Kaz said, discarding the string and opening up the box. He produced the small origami fox made from thin orange card and set it down on the desk. After a brief search through the salt, he paused at the sight of two ears amongst the crystals.

Nina took a step back. “Saints.”

“I wouldn’t recommend looking if you’re squeamish.” Joran suggested.

“They’re not a pair. Definitely from two separate people.” Kaz observed.

“Based on the size of them, we think one came from a man and the other from a woman.” Nadia said.

“Agreed.” Kaz said. “This wasn’t a prank by medical students. The ears have been removed far too crudely. Also, they would have known to use ice to better preserve them. Salt is an inferior way and, I assume, all whoever did this had on hand. I think you’re on to something Zenik; the male ear has been pierced for an earring, far more common among sailors.”

“What do origami foxes have to do with it?” Wylan said, ignoring the gruesome pieces of evidence entirely to inspect the small cardboard animal. “It’s very sweet.”

“Interesting thing to say when standing over two severed ears, Hendriks.” Jesper gagged.

“Oh. Right.” Wylan backed away. “It’s just...origami is a patient, gentle activity. The polar opposite to the other, um...contents of the box. Maybe there’s more than one contributor to the parcel.”

“I can see the sense in that.” Kaz said. “We’ll bear it in mind. If you could put it back now, Wylan?”

Wylan had been staring at the fox in his hands with a small smile, and suddenly came to his senses. He sheepishly placed the fox back down on the desk. “Sorry.”

“We should go and speak to Susan.” Kaz announced.

“She was quite shaken yesterday and got fed up of being questioned rather quickly. Try not to upset her.” Nadia said.

“When have I ever upset anyone?” Kaz smirked. “Jesper, Wylan...let’s go.”

Wylan’s eyes widened. “Me?”

“The middle-aged and elderly gravitate towards you. And I’m told Jesper is charming, apparently.” Kaz said.

“It’s true.” Jesper beamed.

“What should the rest of us do?” Matthias asked.

“Your work.” Kaz said, and the three of them hurriedly left along with Joran, Nadia and the unpleasant parcel.

“My poor desk...” Inej sighed over the spot where the box had been.

Nina stood up. “Screw it, I’m getting ice cream. Who wants what?”

...

“What’s so great about foxes, then?” Jesper asked Wylan, desperate to fill the silence of the carriage ride to Susan Cushing’s home.

“I just think they’re fascinating. I always loved spotting them in the garden when I was little. They’re so...elegant. Beautiful.” Wylan shrugged.

“Sly.” Kaz added with a pleased look on his face.

“I think ‘cunning’ or ‘clever’ are better words.” Wylan argued.

“And the origami? Also elegant and beautiful?” Jesper smiled.

“Yes, actually.” Wylan said. “And...my mother and I used to do it together. She used to say that the simplest things can be beautiful too. A piece of paper can end up transforming into anything.”

Kaz found interest in Jesper’s silence for the rest of the trip. Wylan had mentioned his mother had died when he was young several times before, and the topic always gave Jesper pause. Kaz had never cared to ask why, and had no doubt he never would unless it miraculously pertained to a case.

Crane Street was a modest display of strong, sturdy houses near the centre of Ketterdam, a uniformed line of red brick buildings. Despite initial reluctance to dwell on the terrible business any longer, Jesper and Wylan managed to talk their way into Susan’s good books, and before long they were all welcomed inside for a cup of tea.

“You don’t think it was a prank by those foolish boys, then?” Susan asked when they had all settled in her living room and had begun their discussion.

“We have reason to believe otherwise.” Wylan replied.

“Then I don’t know a thing about it. Horrible...just horrible. What’s the world coming to?” Susan shook her head.

“Does anyone else live here?” Kaz asked.

“No, just me.”

“So the parcel was intended for you.”

“But why? I haven’t done anything to deserve such a shock.”

“Imagine the shock of having your ear cut off.” Kaz mumbled under his breath.

Susan leant forward in her chair. “What was that?”

“What my colleague is trying to say is that whatever happened in regards to the contents of the parcel, the sender wanted you to see it. Whether it was to prove something to you or show you that some terrible deed had been done...it’s hard to say.” Jesper explained gently.

“You people all seem to struggle with the fact that I DON’T KNOW A THING.” Susan seethed. “I’ve told you everything and I’m tired of repeating myself.”

“Listen.” Kaz stood up. “Believe it or not - I don’t care - but we’re trying to help. However irrelevant what we’re saying may seem to you, the likelihood is people have died, and any lines of inquiry may prove useful. I know you’re in shock, and I know you don’t think you know anything, but that doesn’t mean you actually don’t.”

Susan glared at Kaz, her mouth wide open in surprise.

“...Sorry. He doesn’t deal well with hot weather.” Wylan said. Or cold. Or mild.

“I want you out of my house.” Susan got to her feet and pointed at Kaz.

“That would be conspiracy to pervert the course of justice.” Kaz stated.

“I...what?!” Susan exclaimed. “But I...”

“And there was me thinking you didn’t want the police bothering you again, Miss Cushing.” Kaz folded his arms.

“I...um...of course not...”

“I didn’t think so. If you would be so kind as to...” Kaz suddenly stopped, and the anger on his face melted away into a look of puzzlement. He stared at Susan for a few moments. “...Do you have any siblings, Miss Cushing?”

“...Yes.” Susan nodded. “Two younger sisters, Sarah and Mary.”

“And where do they live?”

“Sarah lives in Ketterdam too. Mary still lives in our hometown in Ireland.”

“When did you last hear from them?”

“I received a letter from Mary last week.” Susan hesitated before speaking again. “Sarah and I aren’t currently on speaking terms. We fell out about a month ago and she moved out.”

“She lived here?” Kaz asked.

“Yes, for a couple of months. It was a bad idea from the start. We never got on, even when we were little. We were both always closer to Mary. In fact, she was living with Mary and her husband before she moved in with me.”

“Why did you fall out?” Wylan wondered.

“She was involved with one of those vile students I had staying here. When I kicked them out, Sarah took their side and called me every name under the sun. She got her own place a few blocks away and we haven’t spoken since.” Susan revealed. “She can be a beastly little madam.”

“Do you have her address?” Jesper asked, and Susan obligingly wrote it down for him.

“And as for Mary...anything of interest in her letter to you? Did she seem troubled or anxious about anything?” Kaz questioned.

“Only the usual ramblings about her husband, Jim. He drinks a lot, you see. Mary could do much better. She’s nervous about what state he’ll be in when he gets back this week.” Susan said.

“Back from where?” Wylan asked.

“He’s a sailor. Been away for a few months now.”

“A sailor?” Jesper said, shooting a nervous glance at Kaz and Wylan in turn. The ear...

“Maybe he’s done Mary a favour and drunkenly stumbled overboard.” Susan scoffed. “If you ask me, she’d be much better off without him.”

...

They left Susan soon after, and got back into their carriage to head for Sarah Cushing’s address a few blocks away.

“Did anyone else’s stomach spin when she mentioned the husband was a sailor?” Jesper asked.

“You said the male ear was pierced, Kaz. And that it was common practice for sailors...” Wylan noted.

Kaz nodded. “I think the female ear belongs to one of the sisters, too. At first I thought it would be Sarah given the lack of contact between her and Susan, but if the male ear belongs to this Jim...it’s more likely the other belongs to Mary.”

“How do you know it could be one of the sisters?” Jesper wondered.

“Ears are remarkably unique to most individuals, but there can be genetic similarities. The broad curve of Susan’s upper lobe, the convolution of the inner cartilage...it was identical to the female ear in the parcel. I noticed it as I was lecturing her.” Kaz explained.

“Yeah, about that...” Jesper began.

Kaz groaned. “She was being uncooperative.”

“Maybe by your very specific standards...” Wylan said.

“If I hadn’t pressed her, we wouldn’t have anything to go on right now. I won’t apologise for finding a lead to follow, and I shouldn’t have to.” Kaz stated.

“...Still no clues about the fox, though.” Wylan noted, trying to break the tension by changing the subject.

“Maybe we’ll learn more from Sarah.” Jesper shrugged.

They were at Sarah’s address within ten minutes, hopping out of the carriage and knocking on the door. A handsome young man opened it, staring at the three of them suspiciously.

“Can I help you?” He asked.

“I’m Kaz Brekker from Crow Consultations. This is Jesper and Wylan.” Kaz began. “What’s your name?”

“Tobias.”

“Does Sarah Cushing live here, Tobias?”

“Yeah. She’s my girlfriend.”

A quick glance at Tobias and Kaz could tell he was being truthful. He may as well have ‘MEDICAL STUDENT’ written on his forehead. “Can we speak to her?”

“Sorry, no can do. She started feeling unwell this morning and locked herself in the bedroom. She won’t come out.” Tobias said. “Wait, i-is this about the parcel her sister got? We read about it in the morning paper. I swear to every Saint there is that I had nothing-”

“-Don’t embarrass yourself, I know it wasn’t you.” Kaz shook his head. “But you’ve seen Sarah this morning?”

“Yeah. We share a bed.” Tobias shrugged.

“...I see. We’ll leave you to it.” Kaz said, turning and heading back into the carriage.

“Is that it? You’re not insisting we go in and see her?” Wylan asked, climbing in after him.

“He told us all we needed to know, and I believed him. Sarah is alive and unwell.” Kaz said.

“So...really not looking good for Mary, is it?” Jesper winced.

Kaz shook his head. “Not at all.”

...

Kaz, Jesper and Wylan’s next destination was the police station, where they informed Joran and Nadia of their discoveries and tentative suspicions.

“Mary and her husband?” Joran fell into a nearby chair. “That’s...oh, Saints.”

“That’s the working theory; there’s no use troubling Susan Cushing with it quite yet.” Kaz said.

“Do you lot know anything about them?” Jesper asked.

“Miss Cushing mentioned them in passing, but we hadn’t considered their relevance.” Nadia admitted, flicking through a pad of notes. “Mr and Mrs Jim and Mary Browner. Mary is a waitress and Jim a sailor. They’ve become estranged recently due to Jim’s drinking habits making him prone to violence, as well as his long absences through work. Her sister Sarah had lived with them for a time but later moved in with Susan until a month ago. Sarah told Susan she was certain the Browners were heading for divorce.”

“We need to check on Jim’s welfare. Susan mentioned he was due to return home to Ireland this week?” Kaz said.

“We’ll see if we can get more details from Susan and contact his work to see if he is where he should be.” Joran said.

“I’m missing something obvious. I can feel it.” Kaz paced back and forth, slamming his cane against the floor with each frustrated step. “...Can I see the parcel again?”

“We’re keeping it cool in the evidence room.” Nadia said, leading Kaz away.

“Not sure we can do much more until we hear back from the inquiries.” Jesper noted.

“I can’t stop thinking about the origami fox. How does it connect? Why aren’t we asking more questions about it?” Wylan asked.

“I think the severed body parts are somehow stealing all the attention.” Jesper shrugged. “The fox feels like twisting the knife and not the stab wound itself, you know? It’s the ‘rache’ written on the wall beside the actual corpse on the floor.”

Wylan smiled. “I liked that comparison. I think you’re right.”

“I have moments of untamed genius.” Jesper grinned.

Kaz soon returned, not even stopping as he headed out of the station. “Let’s go.”

“Did you work out what you were missing?” Wylan hurried after him.

“We’ll see. Another possibility has come to mind.” Kaz said.

“Which is?” Jesper prompted.

“It depends on the information we get in the coming days, but I think Susan could be right. The parcel wasn’t meant for her.”

“How is that possible?” Wylan questioned.

Kaz looked straight ahead as he marched purposefully down the street. “Like I said, we’ll see.”

...

The following afternoon, Joran arrived at Crow Consultations with some new information. “We spoke to Susan Cushing again this morning. She was quite reluctant at first, but she relented after we made it clear we feared for the safety of her sister.”

“What did she say?” Nina asked.

“She’s not Jim Browner’s biggest fan, to say the least.”

“We got that impression.” Kaz said.

“She couldn’t tell us much about him off the top of her head – she’s only met him a few times – but she found some details for us in Mary’s latest letter to her. The ship he’s currently on is the S.S. May Day, departing from Dublin, Ireland a few months ago and stopping at Waterford, Vilki, Weddle, Eames, Belendt, Udova, Elling and then returning to Ireland, but this time docking at Belfast.” Joran read from his notebook. “According to the date Mary gives, the ship is due back tomorrow. We’ve sent a letter to Browner’s base to see if he’s still on board.”

“I hope he is, but it’s a double-edged sword; if he’s alive, we don’t have the foggiest as to who the male ear could belong to.” Jesper said.

“Susan intends on sending Mary a letter today to check on her. She usually receives a response in three or four days; probably too late to aid our investigation, but it’s something to keep her hopeful.” Joran added. “She said she’d read through all the letters she still has and contact us if anything of importance comes up. From her memory, a lot of them are just Mary complaining that Jim’s drinking has been getting worse.”

“Nice to see her cooperating fully.” Kaz noted. “Almost as if she needed a stern talking to.”

“...She did ask quite anxiously if the man dressed in black with the evil face was with me.” Joran said.

Kaz looked very proud of himself.

With little else to tell, Joran made his leave. The Crows went about their business as usual, working on smaller cases and arguing about how many windows should be opened to stay cool in the hot weather. During their lunch break, Jesper and Matthias were amused to find Wylan practicing some origami in the breakroom. They watched him make a few final folds and present them with a small swan.

“Did your mother teach you that?” Jesper asked as he sat down at the table.

Wylan nodded. “It was the first one I remember being able to do. The only one I can remember, if I’m honest. I’d like to learn to make a fox for my desk.”

“I don’t have the delicate fingers for such things.” Matthias said.

“I just felt like picking it back up again. The specialist card they recommend for it can be expensive, but it gets better results.” Wylan said.

“Maybe you could make one for all our desks?” Jesper suggested. “I mean, if you wanted to.”

“Give me a few years’ practice.” Wylan smiled. “What animal would you like?”

“A dragon.” Jesper said without hesitation.

“I’ll see if any instructions exist for that one.” Wylan laughed. “Matthias?”

“A wolf.” Matthias nodded. “You should also consider a lamb, Wylan.”

“Oh yeah, that’s very you.” Jesper said.

“I’ll think on it. What about the others?” Wylan asked.

“Inej could be a spider or a cheetah.” Jesper said. “Nina? A peacock or flamingo. Kaz...a crow or-”

“-A snake.” Matthias smirked.

“You’re never letting the Hugh Boone thing go, are you?” Jesper chuckled.

“I’m taking that rage to the grave.”

“I imagine a snake would be fairly simple.” Wylan grinned.

“I could make that right now.” Jesper agreed. “Step one: roll paper into a tube. There are no further steps.”

As Jesper and Wylan fell into a deep debate about the difficulty of origami, Matthias watched on with the hint of a smile. He was happy to be part of a group who knew the importance of finding levity in the midst of gruesome or depressing cases; it was something his fellow Fjerdans back home often lacked. In dark times, you must look for the light or look for someone to find it for you.

Matthias was finding life with the Crows surprisingly full of light.

...

Nothing else emerged until the following day, when everything changed. Kaz and Wylan went to the police station in the afternoon, eager for any updates.

“We were just about to come and summon you.” Nadia revealed. “We heard back from Jim Browner’s base of operations. He was on the S.S. May Day...”

Wylan’s heart dropped. “Was?”

“...The ship returned to Ireland early. There was a fire at Elling Harbour, so they couldn’t stop there and carried on through. It docked in Belfast days ago.” Nadia said.

“What?” Wylan was bewildered. “So where’s Browner now?”

“According to his boss, he spent a few days with Mary then turned up at the Belfast docks and volunteered for another job. As far as they’re aware, he’s now on the S.S. Conqueror.”

“Where’s the Conqueror going?” Kaz asked.

“It would have tried Elling again by now, and after that it’s scheduled to stop in Djerholm and Bhez Ju.” Nadia said. “But that’s not all they had to tell us.”

“What else?”

“Since we were asking about a potentially missing worker, they informed us that by sheer coincidence one of their sailors hadn’t shown up to depart on the Conqueror; a man called Alec Fairborn. That was why they had the space to take Jim Browner with them.”

“I’d be very surprised if that is sheer coincidence.” Kaz noted.

“It definitely isn’t.” Joran said as he entered the room, placing a few handwritten letters on the table and handing one in particular to Kaz. “Susan Cushing gave us these; she’d thought nothing of it at the time so it had slipped her mind until she revisited it.”

Kaz took a moment to read the letter. “...Ah.”

“Ah?” Wylan said, vibrating with anticipation.

“Sarah had introduced Mary to someone when they’d been living together. A ‘constant source of support’ and ‘lovely gentleman’, according to Mary.” Kaz said. “...A man by the name of Alec Fairborn.”

“...Ah.” Wylan echoed.

“And this one also proves quite interesting.” Joran said, handing Kaz another letter.

“...Mary says that Jim had come up with a nickname for Sarah.” Kaz revealed as he read.

“What nickname?” Wylan asked.

“The Fox.” Kaz placed the letter back on the table and looked over to Nadia. “I’d recommend getting a letter to the police in Djerholm; send someone to travel there themself if it’s faster. If we miss the Conqueror there, make sure the authorities in Bhez Ju are prepared for the ship’s arrival. Jim Browner needs to be arrested the moment he steps off.”

“So it’s not his ear?” Joran questioned.

“I don’t think so. I believe the ears belong to Mary Browner and Alec Fairborn. The parcel was sent from Belfast, remember? I think Jim killed Mary and Alec, put together the parcel, posted it on the way to the docks and immediately fled on the Conqueror. He might be looking to disappear completely when they dock somewhere further along the route.” Kaz said.

“But it makes no sense for him to send the parcel to Susan.” Wylan noted.

“That’s because he didn’t.” Kaz said. “I started to suspect it the other day, but now I’m certain. The parcel was addressed to an S. Cushing, but that doesn’t have to mean Susan, does it?”

“...Sarah!” Wylan realised. “The Fox.”

“If it was meant for Sarah, why send it to Susan’s house?” Joran asked.

“Because he’s been away at sea, and I imagine hasn’t been receiving communications from his estranged wife. He wouldn’t have known Sarah didn’t live with Susan anymore.” Kaz said. “Sarah will have read about the parcel in the newspaper with her boyfriend, realised it was meant for her and pieced together exactly what had happened. She feigned a sudden illness and locked herself away to process the shock and avoid being questioned.”

“But why would Jim do something so awful in the first place?” Nadia wondered.

“I can take an educated guess, but I think Jim Browner and Sarah Cushing are the only ones who can tell us for sure.” Kaz said.

“Nina said it herself; the string on the parcel was tied with a common sailor’s knot. We were so focused on a sailor being the victim that we failed to realise that one was also the sender.” Wylan said. “...How’s Susan doing?”

“She’s started to realise something terrible has likely happened to Mary. We’re looking out for her.” Joran said. “We’ll pay Sarah a visit and see if she’s, um...feeling better.”

“I think everything will quickly fall into place from here. Keep us informed.” Kaz said to Joran and Nadia as he and Wylan departed.

“I’m still not sure I follow everything.” Wylan admitted.

“We don’t know the whole story yet, but I think we will. If we can’t get answers from Browner, I have no doubt that Sarah will crack.” Kaz said.

“The fox in the parcel is starting to make sense given Jim’s nickname for Sarah, but why origami? Why anything at all?” Wylan wondered.

“That’s the one thing I can’t even begin to speculate.” Kaz said. “And if Mary and Alec are dead, which is highly likely, what did Browner do with their bodies? And why cut off their ears?”

“I can’t believe someone we worried had been a victim of such a horrendous act is likely the one who committed it...”

“It happens more often than you think. Humans can be far too predictable. After all, I think we can both guess what Jim’s motive for murder might be.”

“Do you think he’ll will come quietly? He did run away.”

“He may be using his latest voyage to find somewhere to hide, but if he really didn’t want anyone to know what he’d done and that it had to be him, he wouldn’t have sent Sarah the parcel. This was about more than just the crime. It’s like Browner wants to punish her for it. He cares more about that than getting away with it.” Kaz said.

Wylan scratched his head. “But why?”

“We’ll find out.” Kaz stated. “I just don’t know who from.”

...

A whole week passed before the full, tragic story became clear. The police had visited Sarah Cushing only to find she’d fled her home with her boyfriend; it seemed unlikely that they would return anytime soon. Without the information she could have provided and no means of tracking her, all anyone could do was wait to learn more.

Nadia arrived at Crow Consultations with a large brown envelope, immediately heading into Kaz’s office and placing it on his desk. “Jim Browner was apprehended when the Conqueror docked in Djerholm. That’s a copy of his signed confession.”

“I see.” Kaz pulled the documents out to inspect. “Did he try to escape arrest?”

“Sounds like he didn’t have any fight left in him; he surrendered the second he saw the officers. He’d been isolated on a ship with plenty of time to think about what he’d done.” Nadia said. “We’ve passed on the details to Susan Cushing. She’s going to try and locate Sarah, especially now she’s the only sister she has left.”

“Nothing like a good tragedy to bring people together.” Kaz sighed.

“I don’t want to imagine that pain. I can’t bear the thought of losing my brother.” Nadia shook her head.

Kaz remained silent, and Nadia took her leave. He sat back in his chair and began to read:

‘I killed my wife, Mary Browner, and I killed Alec Fairborn.

My marriage has been strained for a long time, and now it seems so simple to think we should both have just let go. I know I am a hateful man, and even more so when I drink, so to realise I’d driven my wife into the arms of another should not have spawned the surprise and hatred within me that it did that day.

The blame wasn’t entirely mine. Some of this burden falls upon Mary’s sister, Sarah. She is a poisonous woman. I called her The Fox because she was sly. Cunning. Manipulative. Upon learning this a few weeks after she moved into our home, Sarah had misinterpreted the connotations of the title I’d given her. She believed I lusted after her, though I only had eyes for my wife. She made an attempt to seduce me when Mary was at work, and I rejected her. From that moment, it became her mission to destroy my marriage and turn my wife against me.

To my shame, I made it easier for her than it should have been, but she succeeded. Without my knowledge, she wormed her way into Mary’s head and poisoned all her thoughts. Then she met Alec at the fish market, and eventually introduced him to Mary. I’d sailed with Fairborn on several voyages, and before recent events regarded him very highly.

Mary and Alec began an affair, and I remained drunk and oblivious. My marriage was falling apart, and any attempt at making amends with Mary fell on deaf ears. It was during such an argument when I brought up Sarah’s clear manipulation that the women were witness to the drunken statement I made that will haunt us forever: “I should cut off your ears since you refuse to listen”. The next day, Sarah returned to Ketterdam to live with their eldest sister Susan, content that her mission to ruin my life was complete.

I was away at sea soon afterwards; a long and miserable voyage with no letters from Mary awaiting me at any stops on our journey. A fire at Elling Harbour sped up our return to Ireland, and I travelled home with a hundred things I wished to say to save my marriage. When I arrived, however, I found Mary and Alec in bed together.

They insisted it was a recent entanglement, but the signs of Alec were plentiful. I remembered the fondness he had for making small cardboard figures to pass the time at sea, and Mary had proudly displayed many of them – tokens of love he’d given her – around the house, hoping to hide them away before I returned. With this evidence, they were forced to confess the full truth. The months of betrayal. Their ‘true love’, as Mary had said.

I saw red. I am grateful to the drink for allowing me to forget the comprehensive details of my actions. I see flashes of the terrible events, an oar cracking Fairborn’s skull open and my hands around Mary’s throat, but little else. I was ready to turn myself in and face my punishment when one of Alec’s animal sculptures caught my eye; a small orange fox. My thoughts turned to Sarah, and how she was as much to blame for all this death and destruction as the rest of us were. I wanted her to know what she’d done. I wanted to make sure she never, ever forgot.

The drink had once again taken over me, giving me the courage and fuelling the fire in my belly to see the idea through. I’ve never been so angry, nor will I ever be again. I found a knife and took one of Mary’s ears, a reference I knew would break Sarah as irreparably as she broke my marriage. I took one from Alec to ensure The Fox would know she had two ghosts haunting her over her wicked deeds. With some salt and the cardboard fox, I put the most terrible of parcels together.

That night, I buried Mary and Alec in the garden and made my apologies to their spirits, though they had wronged me themselves. I knew I needed to get away, so made the return to Belfast to board another ship, posting Sarah’s parcel there before I went.

If I could go back, I would undo it all. I hope the Saints can forgive me.

Jim Browner’

When he’d finished, Kaz folded up the document and took it out to Inej, who read it aloud for the rest of the Crows to hear.

Despite the heat, Nina shivered. “I get being angry, but to do that? To send someone that parcel out of spite, even if they’re not exactly blameless? Sick and twisted.”

“No one can ever truly know what they are capable of until they’re pushed.” Matthias said.

“Do you think Sarah Cushing will ever show her face again?” Inej asked.

“Hard to say.” Kaz said. “I imagine she’d want to go to the funeral, even if she watches from afar. She has to live with what she helped cause.”

“Jealousy is an ugly thing.” Nina said.

“Did Alec have any family?” Wylan wondered.

Kaz shrugged. “We know all we need to know.”

“How can you do that? Switch off and close your heart so easily?” Wylan said angrily.

“Because that’s the job. I’m not in the business of feeling sorry for people while making a living from their tragedies. It’s hypocritical.” Kaz said.

“It’s human.” Wylan argued.

“Be human on your own time, not mine.” Kaz said, retreating into his office and closing the door.

“The concept of closing off his heart implies he has one to begin with.” Nina muttered.

Wylan sank into his desk with a deep sigh. Inej walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“This one really got to you, didn’t it?” She smiled sadly.

“I guess. It’s just...memories, you know?” Wylan said. “I don’t care if Kaz thinks having feelings makes me worse at my job. What’s the point in doing anything if you can’t feel it? Even if it hurts?”

“Quite right too.” Nina nodded.

“I know something that’ll cheer you up.” Jesper said, reaching into his jacket and producing a small orange clump of paper. He placed it on Wylan’s desk with a grin which faded the longer he looked at it.

“I...thanks?” Wylan said.

“It’s a fox. Well, it’s supposed to be.” Jesper winced.  “I think I need a little more practice.”

“A little?” Nina smirked.

“If you shut your eyes, it’s uncanny.” Inej smiled.

“If you were going for ‘fox that was run over by a carriage ten times’, you’ve nailed it.” Matthias nodded.

“You try and do something nice...” Jesper threw his arms up, exasperated.

“No, no, I love it! Thank you. It’s sweet that you tried.” Wylan said. “I’ll treasure it forever.”

Jesper grinned expectantly. “And by forever, you mean...?”

“I think I could put up with it for two or three days?” Wylan offered.

“Deal.” Jesper said. “I should’ve just made a snake.”

...

Wylan apprehensively knocked on Susan Cushing’s door. He wanted to pass on his well wishes, but wasn’t sure how she was going to react. She’d shown a lot of spirit during her disagreement with Kaz, and certainly wasn’t one to be messed with.

When she opened the door, she looked ten years older than she had less than a fortnight earlier. Her eyes were red and sunken. She was white as a sheet. The emotion had entirely drained from her face.

“Hello, Miss Cushing.” Wylan said, holding out a bouquet of flowers. “I just...I wanted to send my condolences on behalf of Crow Consultations.”

Susan took the bouquet and forced a small smile. “Thank you. Would you like some tea?”

Wylan accepted the offer and joined her inside, not wanting her to be alone and sensing she wanted the company. As he sat waiting, he clocked a painting on the wall that made his heart ache; a portrait of Susan, her arms around her two sisters.

“The day we had that done...that was the last time all three of us were together.” Susan announced, having returned to the room and caught Wylan staring at the painting. She placed a teacup on the table before him. “They both came over from Ireland especially for it. I wanted it done for my fortieth birthday.”

“I...I’m so sorry.” Wylan offered. He didn’t know what else to say.

“You must see this sort of thing all the time.” Susan said. “Does it get easier?”

“...Not for me.” Wylan admitted. “Some of us can take it in their stride, but I still think about cases from ages ago.”

“That Brekker man...he strikes me as someone who takes it in his stride.” Susan noted.

“You’re right about that.”

“I understand him much more now than when we first met.”

“How so?”

“The harshness in his eyes and voice, the anger inside of him...I see it in myself now. I feel it. This loss...it’s an ache that burns the goodness out of you. He’s lost someone. He was wronged by the world; it’s no wonder he shouts at it.” Susan said.

“...I’ve lost someone. I’m not sure I feel that way.” Wylan said.

“Were they taken from you in the way Mary was taken from me?”

“Well...no, I suppose not. She was ill.”

“That’s not easy either, I’m sure. But to lose one sister so violently, and I may never see Sarah again...my body and soul are altered forever. Your colleague is too.”

Wylan had often wondered what had shaped Kaz into the man he was. He’d made peace with never knowing, but Susan’s words had stirred up those questions all over again. Had Kaz lost someone? Who, and how? He’d considered the idea that Kaz was purposefully cold to be the best at his job that he could possibly be, but maybe it wasn’t a choice after all.

When his mother passed away, Wylan was made to feel small and useless. It shaped him into someone kind and gentle, not wanting others to feel the way he had. What if Kaz had lost someone and kept himself at a distance to avoid losing anyone else? What if he’d gone down a path that Wylan could’ve taken just as easily?

“What will you do now?” He asked after leaving his thoughts behind.

“When I’m back from the funeral, I’m making arrangements to leave Ketterdam. I refuse to get stared at as I walk down the street. I refuse to let memories and sentiments trap me here when I need a new beginning.” Susan replied.

“I understand that. Ketterdam was my new beginning.” Wylan said.

“For me, it will always be the place where I lost everything. I can’t stay.” Susan shook her head. “...Thank you for coming to see me. I hope you’ll think of Mary and I as you think of your other cases lost to time.”

“I will. I promise.” Wylan said, his eyes watering.

...

The following day, the heat was finally beginning to die down and order was being restored at Crow Consultations. Kaz was wearing his waistcoat again, and no one complained about being slowly boiled alive.

Despite these improvements, Wylan’s heart still felt heavy as he struggled to concentrate on his work. While things were going back to normal for them, life for the Cushings, Browners and Fairborns would never be normal again. He found levity in glancing at Jesper’s attempt at origami sat on his desk – it brought a smile to his face every time – but that feeling of hopelessness remained.

“...I wish we could prevent these horrible things from happening, not just work out what happened once it’s too late.” He said.

Nina looked up from the blackmail note she was studying the typography of. “We do sometimes, Wy. But even if something horrible has happened, we can give people the closure they otherwise wouldn’t have gotten. That’s saving them from a much worse way of living, if you ask me.”

“There may be injustice, but that’s better than never knowing what happened to someone you loved.” Matthias concurred.

“Is it? I think I’d rather still have some hope.” Wylan said.

“Hope is dangerous.” Kaz declared from the entrance of his office, where he’d been stood listening to the conversation.

“You can lose hope, but you can always have faith.” Inej added.

“For all we know, we did prevent Jim Browner from hurting anyone else. If the guy could do what he did to his wife, even if what she did wasn’t necessarily right, I have no doubt he’d have snapped again.” Jesper said.

“...That’s true.” Wylan nodded.

“Maybe we’re not saving millions of people at a time or catching a killer before they can strike, but we are doing some good.” Nina smiled.

“Even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.” Inej said. “We’re sharing the burden for someone in need.”

Wylan thought of Susan, and of how much she seemed to appreciate his company the previous evening during the worst of times. Inej was right; he’d share anyone’s burden, no matter how little it helped.

With a smile and a renewed spirit, he stood up from his desk. “Cup of tea, anyone?”

Chapter Text

What came to be known as one of the Crows’ most famous cases began as many others did; a simple letter asking to arrange an appointment at their earliest convenience. None of them could have predicted what awaited them as a result of Doctor Jane Mortimer’s plea for help.

Mortimer lived in Maroch Glen, a beautiful part of The Wandering Isle made up of warm, homely villages amongst vast spans of hills and mires. Her initial letter to Kaz explained that she was acting as an executor of the will of Sir Charles Morozova, and desperately sought clarity from the Crows in regards to protecting the Morozova name, a family near and dear to her heart. Kaz wrote back with an agreement to hear her story, and she arrived in Ketterdam five days later. Having given herself a day to recover from her travels, she came to Crow Consultations the next morning.

“That’s a lot of tweed.” Nina whispered to Jesper as they watched her greet Kaz from the other side of the room, their eyes digesting her overly formal attire.

“She makes it work.” Jesper concluded. “Not many people can pull off a lighter brown.”

“Take a seat, Doctor Mortimer.” Kaz gestured to the couch that had been placed in the main room. They’d realised that more often than not clients needed to brief the entire team and not just Kaz himself, so it was moved out of Kaz’s office.

“Thank you, Mr Brekker.” Mortimer said, lowering herself elegantly into a seat. She was gripping the dossier in her hands so tightly her knuckles were white. “I’ve been a close friend of the Morozova family for a long time, and I feel an obligation to protect each and every one of them. Sadly, however, there is only one left to protect.”

“Go on.” Kaz said, leaning against Inej’s desk with his fingers pressed together as he listened.

“Have you heard of the Morozova curse? The tale of the hound?” Mortimer asked.

“Enlighten us.” Kaz prompted, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“It’s a story – a legend, really – that has plagued the Morozova family for generations. Over a hundred years ago, Hugo Morozova, one of the first to bear the now infamous family name, was said to have refused a stranger shelter during a bitter snowstorm. This stranger revealed herself to be a witch who cursed Hugo’s family forevermore.” Mortimer explained, producing newspaper cuttings from her dossier that illustrated her tale. “She cast a spell that birthed a demonic hound destined to hunt down any Morozova that crossed its path. It pursued Hugo relentlessly until he died of fright, and it is said the hound still haunts the hills of Maroch Glen to this day. In the years since, several Morozovas have met a premature and untimely end.”

“Coincidence, not a curse. A genetic heart condition of some sort.” Kaz shrugged. “A demonic hound? Don’t make me laugh.”

“I never believed it either, Mr Brekker.” Mortimer hesitated.

Inej leant forward. “Until...?”

“Until the death of my friend, Sir Charles Morozova. He was the eldest of three brothers and sole inhabitant of the Morozova mansion back home. He lived there for decades; the estate has been in the family name for as long as anyone can remember.”

“Why didn’t his brothers live there too?” Matthias wondered.

“The middle brother, Roger, estranged himself from the family many years ago. He believed the legend of the hound was true, and it terrified him so much he fled. He contracted pneumonia and died several years ago. The youngest brother, Ilya, was...immoral. A fiend. He was sent away to protect the Morozova name from scandal, and eventually died from his own separate illness.” Mortimer said.

“Both premature and untimely, just like the legend implies...” Jesper smirked at Kaz.

“Don’t start.” Kaz sighed.

“I did some research on Maroch Glen while we were staying in Belendt. They say it’s full of troubled spirits that cause spontaneous storms.” Nina noted.

“The weather can be unpredictable, it is true...” Mortimer conceded.

“Fabricated nonsense, all of it.” Kaz groaned. “I take it Sir Charles has passed away in premature and untimely circumstances too?”

Mortimer took a moment to gather herself and fight back tears. “...Yes. Two weeks ago. The staff at the Morozova mansion were woken up in the middle of the night by a hideous scream from outside. They rushed down the path leading from the estate towards the village and found poor Charles lying dead on the ground. Charles struggled with a weak heart, that I must admit, and cardiac arrest was given as the cause of death, but...I can’t forget the look on his face. He was frozen in terror.”

“You saw the body?” Kaz said.

“The housekeeper came to fetch me immediately after he was found; I got there just before the police arrived.”

“If he knew he was dying, it would make sense to look afraid.” Wylan offered.

“The problem is, and I’ve yet to share this with the police as they’d dismiss me entirely, the next morning I went back to where he was found, and I saw...” Mortimer took a deep breath. “...It had rained the previous day, so the ground was fairly soft...no one would have seen it in the dark when we’d first found him.”

“Seen what?” Jesper questioned.

“...A large paw print. Just off the path; only a few metres from where Charles breathed his last.” Mortimer revealed. “It was the hound. Charles fell victim to his family’s curse. The stories are true.”

Everyone took a moment to savour the look of surprise on Kaz’s face. It was a very rare sight to behold.

“And you’re sure it was a paw print? You’d swear on it?” Kaz asked.

“On my life.” Mortimer nodded.

Kaz thought in silence for a moment. “Did Sir Charles own a dog?”

“No. He wouldn’t take the chance.”

“What time would you say his death occurred?”

“It was around two o’clock in the morning.”

“What was he wearing when he was found?”

“His usual attire; a three-piece suit and bowler hat. He’d put on a raincoat, too.”

“Interesting.” Kaz said. “Did he usually go on walks at that time of night?”

“Never. He was always in bed by ten o’clock.” Mortimer stated.

“Yet he hadn’t changed into his nightclothes and even had a raincoat on...he clearly didn’t leave in a hurry. He was meeting someone...” Kaz speculated, his brain whirring.

“I believe so, too.” Mortimer concurred. “I think someone may have lured him to his death.”

“You said you were the executor of Sir Charles’ will?” Inej asked.

“I was his closest friend and confidant, yes. Other than the suspicious circumstances of his death, I also wanted your assistance in securing the future of the Morozova family. Charles only has one living relative left, and they are therefore the heir to the Morozova estate and fortune. His name is Malyen Oretsev, Charles’ nephew; Roger was his father.” Mortimer said.

“Have you contacted him?” Matthias asked.

“Oh yes; he’s accompanied me to Ketterdam, in fact. We knew he lived in Ravka, so it took a week or so to locate him, but he’s interested in moving into the mansion and taking residence in Maroch Glen as is his birthright. I hope you will look into the legend of the hound and Sir Charles’ death and reassure me that the last of the Morozovas will be safe in the Glen. I’d never forgive myself if something terrible befell Malyen as it has so many of his ancestors.” Mortimer explained.

“His surname is Oretsev?” Wylan questioned.

Mortimer nodded. “As I said, Roger estranged himself from the Morozova family. He took on his wife’s surname when they wed, and passed it onto their son. Malyen had no idea he had such a rich family history until we informed him of Charles’ passing.”

“Where is Malyen now?” Nina asked.

“Waiting for me at the hotel. How my meeting with you went was to determine our next move. I intend to journey back to the Glen tomorrow morning. Will you take the case and join us?” Mortimer wondered anxiously.

Kaz stood up straight. “I assure you, Doctor Mortimer, there is no demonic hound with a weird grudge. There will be an explanation for everything, I’m sure. Before I make a final decision, we should go and meet the last of the Morozovas for ourselves.”

...

Doctor Mortimer brought the Crows to the local hotel, showing them up to a room on the second floor and knocking on the door. It opened to reveal a handsome, broad-shouldered gentleman. He had kind eyes and clothing that showed his newfound inheritance was a life of luxury unfamiliar to him.

“Malyen, these are the people I told you about.” Mortimer announced.

The man greeted everyone in turn. “Good to meet you. And please, call me Mal.”

“These last few days must have been a whirlwind for you.” Inej noted as everyone walked deeper into the hotel room to talk further.

“To put it lightly. Going from a penniless orphan to inheriting a mansion and more money than I’ll ever be able to spend in my lifetime...it’s crazy.” Mal admitted. “I’m not sure it’s sunk in yet.”

“You’ll have time.” Mortimer smiled reassuringly.

“Unless you’re mauled to death by a bloodthirsty hound.” Kaz said dryly.

“...You don’t believe in those stories either, then?” Mal said.

“You’re not even a little bit worried about it?” Jesper questioned.

Mal shrugged. “...I don’t know. So much is happening that I’m struggling to believe, but my uncle being killed by a demon dog? I can’t see it. Don’t get me wrong, I have no doubt Uncle Charles’ death is suspicious; I’ve only been a Morozova for a week and strange things have already started happening to me.”

“What things?” Kaz asked.

Mal turned to Mortimer. “You didn’t tell them?”

“I thought I’d leave that to you.” Mortimer said.

“While Doctor Mortimer was resting after we arrived yesterday, I went for a walk around Ketterdam. Maybe I’m paranoid, but I could’ve sworn a carriage was following me the whole time.” Mal revealed.

“Did you see who was in it?” Matthias asked.

“No clue. That wasn’t all, though; when I woke up this morning, I noticed someone had taken one of my boots. Just one, not even the pair. Who does that?” Mal shrugged. “It’s not like they’re new or anything; I’d worn them for years. On top of that, I came down to reception to find someone had left me an anonymous message.”

“Saying...?” Kaz prompted. Mal reached into his pocket and handed him a slip of paper for Kaz to read. “Don’t come to Maroch Glen if you value your life.”

“A week ago, I was no one important. Now I’m getting anonymous warnings and devil hounds.” Mal said.

“This certainly adds credence to the idea that you were followed. Someone knows where you’re staying and what room you’re in.” Kaz noted.

“But they didn’t leave a room number to pass the message on to. They just gave my name.” Mal said.

“But someone stole your boot from your room.”

“You think the same person did that?”

“Not necessarily, but there’s got to be a link somehow. Never ignore a coincidence.” Kaz said. “...We’ll take the case.”

Mortimer beamed. “You’ll come with us tomorrow?”

“Me? No. I’ve got to man the office here; everyone else can go.” Kaz said, turning to the others.

“You can’t deal with everything here on your own, Kaz.” Inej noted.

Kaz shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle. Write to keep me informed of any developments. I’ll even pay for everyone’s travel expenses.”

“I’m so there.” Nina grinned.

“Kaz...” Inej began.

“I’ll be fine. There’s a lot to this case; I want you all working on it. It’s about time you had a group project like this.” Kaz said.

“I wouldn’t call my uncle’s death a project.” Mal objected.

“Good for you. Arrange trains and carriages with Doctor Mortimer, and I look forward to hearing how it goes.” Kaz said, turning to leave.

Inej followed after him, leaving the others to organise the travel arrangements. “Why don’t you want to work on this case?”

“I’m a cat person.”

“Kaz, I’m being serious.”

“Because it sounds ridiculous. A demon hound haunting the same family for a hundred years? There is no explanation for it that could possibly interest and satisfy. Still, money is money. I’ll leave this in your capable hands.”

“What about everything Mal said? And there must be something ringing alarm bells for you about how Sir Charles died?” Inej questioned. “You can’t just hand cases you think won’t satisfy you over to us!”

“I’ve been doing it for two years. Why stop now?” Kaz smirked. “It’s a good test, Inej. This might be the biggest case I’ve handed over to anyone else. Don’t let me down. And pack a raincoat.”

...

It was a pleasant though incredibly long journey across several days, but eventually the Crows found themselves taking in the majestic scenery of Maroch Glen. It was a bright day. The grass had never looked greener and healthier. The quaint little village looked incredibly welcoming amongst the hills surrounding it, and the larger properties further uphill were dazzling. Among these was the Morozova mansion, which Mortimer pointed out to Mal and the others as they headed into the village.

By the time they got there, however, the skies had turned grey. It had started to rain lightly and fog was beginning to roll in. What had looked like a picturesque paradise only half an hour before now looked like the setting of a horror story.

“I told you the weather was unpredictable.” Mortimer joked as they passed through the cobbled streets and came to a stop at a crossroads, at which a homely looking pub welcomed them. “The left path here takes us up to the mansion.”

“I’ll check out the place.” Inej announced.

“I’ll come with you.” Matthias said.

“Why don’t you guys take a look around and get a feel for the place? Talk to the locals?” Inej suggested. Everyone agreed, and Jesper, Nina, Wylan and Mal - who Mortimer suggested stay until she knew the mansion was in order for him - were left stood watching Inej, Matthias and Mortimer vanish into the distance.

Jesper rubbed his hands together excitedly. “If you ask me, there’s no better way of getting a feel for somewhere than having a drink at the local pub. Shall we?”

“I knew you were going to suggest that.” Wylan smirked.

“No arguments from me.” Nina grinned.

“Hard to disagree.” Mal concurred.

“Looks like they rent rooms, too. Might be useful for some of us to stay in the village while we’re here.” Nina added, and they all headed inside an aptly named The Fox and Hound Inn.

As they entered and approached the bar, it became apparent that everyone was staring at them. They ordered drinks and hovered there uncomfortably for a few moments, the tension finally eased when a man with dark hair and a charming face spoke up.

“Forgive everyone for staring. It’s not often we see new people around here.” He smiled, offering them all his hand. “Jack Stapleton. This is my sister, Pearl.”

Jack gestured to the woman stood next to him, who smiled at them warmly with wide, inviting eyes. “Nice to meet you.”

“What brings you to the Glen?” Jack asked.

“I’m Nina, and this is Jesper and Wylan. We’re escorting Mal here to his new home.” Nina explained.

“What home’s that then?” An older man sat at a nearby table who had clearly been listening in asked with a sharp tongue.

“Uh...the Morozova mansion.” Mal announced trepidatiously. “Sir Charles was my uncle.”

“I didn’t know old Charles had any family left around; he didn’t like talking about them.” Jack said.

“He was scared the hound was coming for him, that’s why. And it did!” The older man exclaimed.

“That’s just gossip to bring in tourists. Doesn’t work.” Jack leant forward and whispered.

“You’re Malyen Oretsev?” Pearl looked at Mal inquisitively. “The papers said you were coming.”

“She’s sharp as a knife, my sister. Always on top of things.” Jack said. “I’ll admit, I’ve avoided reading about the whole business. Charles was always very good to us. He was good to everyone, really. We live in Stapleton Manor on the other side of the hill from you, Mr Oretsev. I wish there were better circumstances that made us neighbours.”

“It was that psycho killer that got Sir Charles, I’m telling you!” The older man said, pointing at Mal. “You need to watch your back, son.”

“I thought you said the hound got him?” Jesper questioned.

“I reckon they’re in it together.” The old man huffed, taking another swig of his beer.

“Ignore Mr Frankland. He loves his theories.” Jack noted. “And his drink.”

“Sorry, what psycho killer?” Wylan asked.

“Arken is his name. He was in prison for murder. He escaped a few weeks ago, and now he’s creeping around the hills!” Frankland exclaimed.

“There’s no way he’d stick around here if he had any sense, Frankland. Don’t scare the new arrivals off!” Jack said.

“You don’t know anything for sure, Stapleton! Until the madman is back inside or on a slab, I won’t rest until the people have been properly warned. You should see how Laura’s been since Charles died; shaken to her core, she is. The Morozova curse is spreading to us folk and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.” Frankland sighed.

“Who’s Laura, Mr Frankland?” Nina asked.

“My daughter.”

“Was she close to Sir Charles?”

“Not that I know of.”

“And she’s shaken by his death, you say?”

Frankland stood up angrily. “Who in their right mind wouldn’t be? What are you trying to imply?”

“Nothing, I just-” Nina began.

“JUST WHAT?!” Frankland shouted.

“Would you like another drink, Mr Frankland?” Pearl offered sweetly, standing in front of Nina protectively.

“...Oh. Yes. Yes. Very well.” Frankland sank back into his seat, his anger almost immediately forgotten.

“...Thanks for that. I wasn’t trying to cause a scene. It’s just...we’re looking into Sir Charles’ death.” Nina revealed.

“…I thought...I thought they said his heart failed him? He’s suffered with it for many years, I believe.” Pearl said.

“We’re just covering all bases, that’s all.” Wylan said.

“Well, I’ll pop to the bathroom and then we’d better be getting home, Pearl. Lunch won’t prepare itself. Pleasure to meet you all.” Jack said, walking off.

“Hey, um...maybe when I’m settled you and your brother could come over for dinner sometime?” Mal suggested, eyes fixated on Pearl.

She hurried over to him, standing close and gripping tightly onto his coat. She stared into his eyes assuredly. “Don’t go out alone at night. And keep away from the hills.”

Saying nothing more, she hurried outside.

“...She seems nice.” Mal smiled after her, his pupils dilated.

“Her ominous warnings aside...” Jesper raised an eyebrow. This gets weirder by the minute.

...

The Morozova mansion was a large and impressive white brick building right in the centre of a pastoral dream. Despite its age, it was in extremely good condition and clearly preserved with a lot of love. It was far removed from the structures you would find in Ketterdam; the epitome of beauty and elegance.

“Mr and Mrs Barrymore will be waiting to greet us, I have no doubt.” Mortimer said.

“Married or siblings?” Matthias asked.

“Married. John is the butler and Eliza is the housekeeper. They loyally served Charles for most of his life, so you can understand his passing still wounds them deeply. I hope they will be able to keep up with Malyen’s youthful energy.”

The inside of the mansion was just as dazzling, with the floors waxed and bannisters polished to perfection. In the centre of the expansive hall when everyone entered stood two smartly dressed figures, who Inej and Matthias correctly assumed were the Barrymores.

“John, Eliza, these are two of the people I told you I was reaching out to. This is Inej and this is Matthias.” Mortimer announced.

“A pleasure to meet you both. Anything you need from my wife and I, please don’t hesitate to ask.” John bowed.

“How do you like the new master’s home?” Eliza asked.

“Spectacular.” Inej beamed, looking around in awe. “How long have you both worked for the Morozovas?”

“Decades. I dare not pinpoint an exact number. The years are catching up with me.” John chuckled.

“When is Mr Oretsev joining us?” Eliza wondered.

“We’ll fetch him soon, I just didn’t want to surprise you if you weren’t ready.” Mortimer said.

“We’re always ready, Jane. You know that.” Eliza smiled. “Would you like a tour in the meantime?”

“If it isn’t any trouble.” Matthias nodded.

“We’re proud to serve, Mr Helvar.” John said, and led them away to see the rest of the mansion.

After a tour of the expansive estate and every nook and cranny of its grounds, the others joined them and Mal was finally able to introduce himself to his staff. The Crows gathered back at The Fox and Hound Inn together to catch up and decide their next move.

“Mal is going to have the time of his life in that mansion. It’s beautiful.” Inej said. “And the staff all seem very friendly.”

“Particularly Mr and Mrs Barrymore.” Matthias added. “How have you all been getting on?”

“We’ve booked rooms here for the next few nights. Is it a bit cheeky to suggest one of us should stay at the mansion to keep an eye on things there?” Nina wondered.

“I think it’s the logical thing to do, but we shouldn’t push our luck. I’ll ask to stay there tonight, and maybe we could rotate between us for however long we’re here.” Inej suggested.

“By the way, there’s an escaped murderer on the loose. Oh, and a conspiracist. Not sure which poses more of a danger.” Jesper said.

“Mr Frankland is throwing accusations all over the place. The hound killed Sir Charles one minute, and Arken the next.” Wylan said.

“Arken?” Matthias said.

“The murderer. He did escape around the time Sir Charles died. Maybe he died of fright seeing Arken running about rather than a demon hound.” Jesper speculated.

“That doesn’t explain the paw print Doctor Mortimer saw. Something left it.” Inej said.

“I’ve seen at least six or seven dogs being walked around the village today; it’s probably something as innocent as that. We don’t know for sure it was left the night Charles died, just that it was there the next morning.” Nina said.

“Anyone else stand out? Not that this Mr Frankland and an escaped convict isn’t a good start.” Matthias asked.

“There were the Stapletons, too. Jack and Pearl, brother and sister and both very easy on the eye.” Jesper recalled. “Something about Pearl was a bit off though, don’t you think?”

“She warned Mal to never go out alone at night and not to wander about the hills.” Wylan said. “It was...intense.”

“She waited until her brother wasn’t around to warn him, though. That seemed odd.” Nina noted.

“You saw how he was with Frankland. He had no time for his conspiracy theories. He’d have just tried to shut Pearl down if he saw her leaning into them too.” Jesper said.

“It feels like we have a lot to go on and also nothing to go on.” Inej said.

“The usual, then.” Matthias nodded. “I’m surprised Brekker would miss out on this.”

“Any case has the tiniest whiff of the supernatural or absurd and he loses all interest.” Jesper said, standing up and taking Wylan’s empty glass. “Another round, good sir?”

“You bought the last two. It’s my turn to pay.” Wylan said.

“No arguments! I insist! Only the best for my favourite colleague.” Jesper grinned, playfully nudging Wylan and returning to the bar. Wylan blushed and failed to hide the smile forming on his face.

“Helvar, fancy getting your favourite colleague a drink too?” Nina folded her arms.

“But Wylan’s already getting one.” Matthias smiled.

“Cheeky sod.” Nina laughed.

“Another lemonade?” Matthias asked.

“If you would be so kind.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You do not.”

With a grin, Matthias got up and joined Jesper at the bar. Nina watched him go with a satisfied smirk. Inej looked at all her colleagues in turn, wondering what she was witnessing.

“What’s gotten into you all?” She asked.

“We always get excited when we’re away on a case! Don’t pretend we didn’t go dress shopping in Belendt a few months ago.” Nina said. “Besides, the night draws in. Unless you think we should go and roam the hills in the dead of night looking for the demon hound, I believe our first day of investigation has come to an end.”

Inej remained quiet.

“...You think we should go and roam the hills in the dead of night looking for the demon hound, don’t you?” Nina sighed.

“We’d be doing the case a disservice to completely disregard something without hard evidence against it.” Inej noted.

“True, but you also need to worm our way into staying at the mansion before it gets too late. Why don’t you see to that and some of us head out in a bit? We’ll report back in the morning.” Nina said.

Inej had to admit that Nina was right, and she embarked on the significant walk over to the Morozova mansion. Naturally, Mal agreed to her request, adding that as many rooms as necessary would be prepared for any overnight guests over the coming days.

As she got ready to turn in for the night, she wondered how the others got on in their expedition to the potentially haunted hills of the Glen. She hated not knowing if there had been any significant discoveries, but she’d be made aware of them soon enough.

Was Kaz feeling the same? It felt strange to not have him there on such an expedition as this case was proving to be. Inej was surprised at how hollow things felt without their leader around. His absence felt unavoidably large. She’d write to him tomorrow. Maybe if she spun so complex and exciting a narrative he’d come and join them?

As her thoughts threatened to send her into her slumber, she spotted some movement in the corner of her eye; a shadow passing by the door. It was incredibly late; who was up at this hour and why?

Her curiosity proved too much. She slipped out of bed and carefully opened the door, peering out into the dimly lit corridor just in time to see a figure at the other end turn the corner and vanish. Inej followed with light, delicate steps.

As she turned the same corner as the mysterious figure, she saw them staring out a window, their face pressed against the glass. She squinted, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the dark, and eventually the figure took a clearer form. It was the butler, John Barrymore. He was so intently focused on something outside that there was no way he would spot Inej hovering nearby.

After another minute or so of staring, John held the lantern in his hand up to the window, blocking its light with his hand at different intervals. After a brief display of this, he lowered the lantern and stared outwards once again. While it felt like an eternity, it was only another thirty seconds or so before he turned away and hurried around the next corner.

What on earth is he doing? Inej made her way to the same window and looked out. All the view offered was a vast open field, a large hill at the other end and rock formations even further still. Certainly nothing of obvious interest.

Just as Inej was about to return to her room, she spotted John emerge from the house carrying a large object in his arms, heading down a path through the trees leading towards the hill. She watched as his outline amongst the darkness became smaller and smaller. What was he taking with him? What was his business at the other end of the field? Why did he clearly not want to be seen doing any of this?

The weight of all these questions took effect on Inej quickly, and an overworked brain forced her to retire for the night. She couldn’t risk following John alone. Maroch Glen was seemingly bursting with mysteries, but Inej had no doubt they could untangle this complicated web before too long. Until then, she could only go to sleep and dream about getting some answers.

...

Inej was at The Fox and Hound Inn the second it opened its doors to the public, hurrying upstairs and knocking on everyone’s door to wake them up. She thought John’s mysterious actions were enough to warrant the early start, but Mal had brought her news of his own to share with the others. “Come downstairs now! Urgent meeting.”

Wylan emerged a few minutes later to find Nina and Matthias still hovering in the corridor. “I didn’t imagine that wake up call, then?”

“I’m afraid not.” Nina yawned. “Shall we head down?”

As they went to go, Jesper’s door opened and he stumbled out with a beautiful woman just behind, giggling to herself. They spotted the others stood there and froze.

“...Morning.” Jesper said. “...This is Jenny. She works downstairs.”

“And is late for her shift.” Jenny said, smiling at Jesper. “Breakfast is on the house, handsome.”

She hurried downstairs, and Matthias couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the amusement on Nina’s face and the coldness on Wylan’s.

“Nice people around here.” Jesper grinned. “Shall we?”

“So unprofessional.” Nina laughed as they walked downstairs together.

“But so worth it.” Jesper beamed.

“I’d say so. Free breakfast!” Nina smirked.

Inej and Mal were sat at a table in the corner, staring anxiously at the others when they arrived to join them. After Nina insisted on ordering breakfast and waiting for it to arrive, the first full day of investigation could finally begin. Inej told the others about what she’d witnessed during the night before allowing Mal to share his news.

“More of my stuff’s been stolen! Do you think I was followed here from Ketterdam?” He asked.

“What did they take? The other boot?” Matthias wondered.

“No, the shirt and jacket I was wearing yesterday. I would have told Mr Barrymore, but if there’s a chance he’s hiding something...” Mal said.

“Covering the lantern in the way you said he did...seems like he was signalling to someone outside.” Wylan suggested.

“Does anyone else really hate this bit? Where nothing makes any sense?” Jesper groaned.

“Maybe we should go to the police. There has been a robbery.” Mal said.

“Demon hounds aren’t exactly their jurisdiction, though. This is all tied together somehow. Mortimer trusted us with this, not the police.” Nina said. “They’re busy enough with Sir Charles’ death and the escaped murderer.”

“Did you see anything when you looked around the hills last night?” Inej addressed the others.

Jesper shook his head. “Nothing.”

“But weird things are still happening, given Mal’s missing clothes. Is the thief slowly assembling an outfit for themselves? Why not take everything they needed in one go?” Nina wondered.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Wylan asked.

“I’ll write to Kaz and keep him up to date.” Inej said.

“And I’ll stay with you at the mansion tonight.” Nina added. “We can spy on Mr Barrymore’s late night antics together.”

“Meanwhile, we can keep asking around.” Matthias said.

“I’ll be your bodyguard for the day, if you like.” Jesper nudged Mal, who nodded.

“Sure. I’d like to have a good look around the village, get to know the place better. Maybe visit the Stapletons?” He said.

“The Stapletons? Why?” Nina smirked.

“Love thy neighbour.” Mal shrugged.

“Pearl is very pretty, but I think it’s a bit too early for love, isn’t it?” Jesper teased.

“It’s not like that!” Mal protested unconvincingly.

“Love at first sight is a thing. Apparently.” Wylan said.

“If I’m sticking around and potentially putting myself in danger, I need to know who I can trust.” Mal said. “I’ll only stop by to say hello.”

“And ask the fair maiden for her hand in marriage?” Jesper winked.

Mal sighed. “Are you lot always like this?”

“Almost exclusively.” Matthias patted Mal on the back sympathetically.

...

Jesper and Mal departed together, while Inej retired to one of the rented rooms upstairs to write a letter to Kaz. Nina returned to her room to make some notes on the case, leaving Matthias and Wylan alone.

“Fancy getting some fresh air?” Matthias suggested.

“Okay.” Wylan agreed, and they headed out after wrapping up warm. The weather had slightly improved from the previous night, but it was bitterly cold. “It must be lovely here in the summer.”

“Very.” Matthias said, studying Wylan closely. Wylan still had the sour look on his face he’d worn all morning. “...Is everything okay? If you don’t mind me saying it, you seem a bit down.”

“I’m fine.”

“Once more and I’ll believe you.”

“...I’m fine. Really.”

Matthias chose to take a risk. “You didn’t seem thrilled to see Jesper with someone this morning.”

“Jesper can do what he likes. And he clearly does.” Wylan said. “When he kept buying me drinks last night...it was just an excuse to go to the bar and flirt with her. I didn’t appreciate being used like that, that’s all.”

“A while ago, you were telling me something about him but we got interrupted. Something about drinks a few weeks after you started working together?” Matthias prompted. Wylan’s unfinished story had been playing on his mind for a while now.

“...You’re sworn to secrecy. No one knows.” Wylan said. “I mean it.”

“I won’t say a word.” Matthias promised.

“I’d been working at Crow Consultations for two or three weeks. We all went out for drinks that weekend; Inej had somehow managed to convince Kaz to come along, though he vanished after one round. Nina and Inej left a while later, but Jesper and I went back to his for a nightcap.” Wylan recalled.

“...Oh.” Matthias chuckled. “I see where this is going.”

“One thing led to another and...yeah. I snuck out the next morning and spent the entire day wondering how to address it when I saw him at work. I mean, it was great...but I could tell he wasn’t someone who liked to be tied down. I still couldn’t help thinking...what if? Could it be something more?” Wylan said. “Monday morning rolls around, he walks in...and...”

“And...?”

“I still don’t know if he forgot it happened or pretended to forget to avoid an awkward conversation, but...that was that. I guess not remembering or pretending not to remember is still very telling as to his feelings on the matter.” Wylan revealed. “It’s not like I was expecting a big romantic gesture or for him to be head over heels or anything, I just...I thought he’d at least remember it. It’s been a year now, you know? It’s ancient history. It’s just sometimes I still feel like I’m nothing to the others.”

“The only person who feels that way is you. Take it from the new guy.” Matthias smiled. “I’m sorry things didn’t go your way back then.”

“I wish I found it as easy as Jesper does. Or you and Nina.”

“...Me and Nina?”

Wylan grinned. “There’s clearly a spark. We’ve all seen it. That might be an avenue worth pursuing...”

Matthias shook his head, but his heart wasn’t in the action. Maybe it isn’t just me. “One obstacle at a time.”

“The current obstacle being a demon hound?”

“Presently, yes.” Matthias said. “You don’t believe it’s real, do you?”

“I can’t imagine so, but this line of work never fails to surprise me.” Wylan said. “Even without that, we’ve got a suspicious death, a suspicious butler and suspicious thefts. We could be stuck here for a while.”

“I’m not sure I’m thrilled at that prospect. Fjerda is unrelenting and bitter, but this place...it’s melancholic. Unnerving.” Matthias said, looking over to the hills. “And don’t forget the suspicious escapee.”

“Arken, of course. Do you think he’s involved in all this?” Wylan wondered.

“Anything’s possible, though if he’s not long gone by now he’s an idiot.” Matthias replied.

“True. My gut says Mal should get out of this place; forget his heritage and never look back.” Wylan said, an edge to his voice Matthias had never heard from him before.

A silence fell between them, and they walked onwards.

...

Jesper couldn’t help but be reminded of the farm back home as he walked down the muddy country roads towards Stapleton Manor. It had been too long since he’d gone to visit his father. As he walked, he turned to Mal at his side and caught him up on the previous night’s events.

“The barmaid?” Mal laughed.

“I’m a charming fellow.” Jesper smirked.

“Why did I think you and Wylan were together? You seemed a bit cosy.” Mal said.

“Me and Hendriks? I’d annoy the hell out of him. I’m not the relationship sort. It’d never work.” Jesper noted. “Mind you, I did have this dream once where we-”

“-Good morning!” Mal shouted and waved as the manor came into view. Pearl Stapleton was stood outside tending to the plants in the garden.

“Morning.” She smiled, shooting a brief look back towards the building. “Did you sleep well?”

“One of us did.” Mal nudged Jesper playfully. “This place looks beautiful.”

“Thank you. My brother and I have worked very hard on it. It was in a bad way when we moved in and put our stamp on it.” Pearl explained.

“How long have you lived here?” Jesper asked.

“Two years now.”

“You don’t have any staff? It’s a big place.”

Pearl shook her head. “No, we like to fend for ourselves. Our parents were the same. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I just...wanted to say hello.” Mal smiled shyly. “And see a friendly face.”

Pearl smiled back. “That’s very sweet of you, Malyen.”

“Call me Mal.”

“Mal. It’s a lovely name.”

“I like Pearl better.”

“Jesper’s a great name if you fancy naming your first child after me.” Jesper teased.

Pearl suddenly grew nervous and timid. “I...I wasn’t trying to imply...”

“H-He was just joking around. Sorry.” Mal said. “You know...thinking about it, I did want to ask about what you said yesterday. About not going out at night, and the hills.”

“...Oh. I, um...I’d tell anyone the same.” Pearl said. “It can be very dangerous at night, that’s all. You could go slightly astray and then drown in an unexpected mire. Stay close to the village and you’ll be fine.”

“You don’t believe in the Morozova curse, do you? And the hound?” Jesper wondered.

Pearl’s face was ghostly white. “I...I’m not sure.”

Mal walked up to her, concern all over his face. “Are you okay? You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine.” Pearl smiled. Jesper didn’t believe her, and he could tell Mal didn’t either.

“Morning, gentlemen!” Jack Stapleton exclaimed, emerging from the front of the manor armed with fishing equipment. “Wonderful day for fishing. Would anyone care to join me?”

“Maybe next time.” Jesper said.

Mal had barely registered Jack’s presence; his focus was still on Pearl. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” Pearl nodded, blushing.

“You do look ready to drop, Pearl. Why don’t you have a bath and a lie down?” Jack suggested.

“...Good idea.” Pearl said, and hurried inside.

“You didn’t ask her about the hound by any chance, did you?” Jack said, his calm demeanour melting away for one of concern.

“It may have come up.” Jesper admitted.

“She…she has nightmares about it sometimes. She’s always let fairytales like that plague her mind. This awful business with Charles...it’s made her worse. She’s always on edge, poor love.” Jack explained.

“On edge? She seemed terrified.” Mal noted.

“I’m sure you mean well, Malyen, but I’d appreciate it if you distanced yourself from Pearl for a little while. Just until she’s calmed down somewhat and got this hound nonsense out of her head again. I don’t mean to be confrontational...” Jack said.

“...No, I understand.” Mal said.

“You’re a good man. I can see that clear as day.” Jack smiled, patting Mal on the back. “It’s a wonderful thing that you’re here, keeping Morozova blood in the Glen. Charles would be proud. Brave of you, too, what with that monstrous Arken fellow lurking in the shadows.”

“You don’t think he’ll have fled the country?” Jesper questioned.

“For all our sakes, I hope so, but a bit of caution can’t hurt.” Jack said. “Well, I won’t keep you from your duties any longer. I’ll check on Pearl and then head out myself. Good day, gents.”

With a tip of his cap, Jack made his leave.

Jesper turned to Mal and smiled. “He didn’t like you drooling over his sister, did he?”

“I wasn’t drooling. I was just...concerned.” Mal said. “Why does my family history have this effect on people?”

“With any luck, we’ll find out. Come on, let’s go and bring Doctor Mortimer up to speed.” Jesper said, and they left the manor behind.

On a whim, Jesper looked back. Pearl was stood at one of the windows, watching them leave.

...

The rest of the day proved fruitless in regards to the investigation. Apart from a few locals complaining about an abrasive journalist going around asking invasive questions, nothing of significance was happening in Maroch Glen.

Mal invited the Crows over for dinner, which proved to be a delicious meal and a great opportunity to plan the next step.

“We can’t let this case walk all over us. We’re being too passive.” Inej sighed. Kaz would be out there demanding answers from anyone and everyone he saw.

“Well, we have some business to attend to tonight.” Nina stared at Inej knowingly, risking a quick glance over to where John Barrymore was stood nearby.

“And I’m sure you’ll be busy again tonight?” Wylan glared at Jesper accusingly.

“Don’t look at me like that, I was off duty! I would never sleep with someone when I should be working.” Jesper said. “...Again.”

“Never underestimate the value of patience.” Matthias noted. “We can’t expect to make progress every hour of every day, as frustrating as that may be.”

As the discussion continued for another hour, Jesper had noticed Mal hadn’t spoken for a while and appeared lost in thought. When Inej and Nina retired upstairs for the night, he told Matthias and Wylan that he’d meet them back at The Fox and Hound. After a brief search, he found Mal stood in a very regal library staring at a line of paintings hanging on the wall; portrait after portrait of Morozovas that had come and gone.

“You’ll need to get one of yourself done.” Jesper said to announce his presence.

Mal laughed. “Not my style. I don’t think I’d fit in with them anyway.”

“Of course you would. You’re a Morozova.”

“I was an Oretsev until a fortnight ago. I still am. Probably always will be.” Mal said. “There was a moment tonight when I was sat watching you all talk and I realised something. When all this is said and done, you’ll go back to Ketterdam and I’ll be sat at the table alone every night. Doesn’t seem like much of a life.”

“You miss the life you had?”

“I didn’t think I would. I only have a few friends. Proper friends, anyway. Every day was a struggle, but at least I didn’t have to worry about living up to a legacy or being horribly killed or having my clothes stolen or whether or not I deserve any of this.”

“Friends can come and visit, you know. And you don’t have to follow in the exact footsteps of the old men who lived here years ago. The world’s always changing, thank the Saints. It’s a big old house, sure, but you don’t have to live in it alone. Maybe Pearl could move in.” Jesper smirked.

“You do know I only met her yesterday, right?”

“Life’s too short to worry about trivial things like that. You’re smitten, I can tell.” Jesper said. And I can hardly judge; I have a crush on my heartless employer. “She definitely fancies you.”

Mal turned to him with wide eyes. “...You think so?”

“Of course! You’re a good looking guy. Especially compared to this lot.” Jesper said, looking up at the paintings himself.

“That’s my family you’re insulting.” Mal said. “...But yeah, look at the ears on that guy. Glad I didn’t inherit those.”

“This is Sir Charles, right?” Jesper asked, pointing to one of the portraits near the end. “Who are the two either side of him? The three of them are all grouped together.”

“That’s my father on his left, and Uncle Ilya on the right.” Mal revealed, staring at his father’s portrait fondly. Sadly, too.

“No offence, but I’m surprised Charles kept them both up after...well, everything.”

“Barrymore said they were taken down, but Uncle Charles had them put back up when they died. I think he regretted not making peace with them. Well...with my father, at least. I wish my father had told me everything. He was the only family I thought I had after my mother died. I’d have liked to have met Charles.”

“From what I hear, he was well loved and respected.” Jesper said. As he spoke, his eyes were drawn to the portrait of Ilya. He seems familiar somehow. He supposed Mal looked more like him than most of the others.

“...If something did happen to him that night, if someone hurt him...promise me you’ll find them.”

“We will. I promise.” Jesper vowed. He always did his best work when the odds were stacked against him.

...

When the Crows assembled at The Fox and Hound Inn again the following morning, Inej and Nina’s frustration was evident.

“Not a peep from Barrymore last night! I’m understanding everything less and less.” Inej grumbled.

“At least Mal didn’t have any clothes stolen.” Nina shrugged.

“Is that good, though? The only strange occurrences we can rely on to gain information from aren’t even being consistent!” Wylan noted.

Jesper sat down, having just returned from the bar with orange juice spilled over his face and down his clothes. “...Morning, all.”

Nina looked across the room and saw Jenny glaring at them furiously. “What did you say to her?”

“Not quite sure, but I’m guessing the wrong thing.” Jesper sighed. “This is gonna stain. I love this shirt, too.”

“Okay, plan of attack for today?” Inej prompted.

“I want to get my bearings of the hills and mires. If Sir Charles was attacked by something, we should try and work out where it’s most likely to be living.” Matthias said.

“That sounds fun! I want to do that too.” Nina announced.

“Mal seemed to like having me as his bodyguard, so I’ll shadow him again.” Jesper said. “I made him promise not to leave the Morozova mansion unless he’s with at least one of us.”

“I’d like to find out more about the previous Morozova deaths, so a visit to Doctor Mortimer may be in order.” Inej said, turning to Wylan. “You can join me, if you like?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Wylan nodded.

Everyone set off with a sense of urgency, scared their grip on the case was loosening. They were desperate for the eureka moment that brought everything together, but that still felt incredibly far away.

Nina watched from a few steps back as Matthias looked down from the edge of a cliff, taking in the sight of a mire below. His hair was getting slightly longer, and blew nicely in the breeze. Nina thought it suited him. “How does it look?”

“Sticky. No self-respecting demon dog would make a home there.” Matthias said.

Nina laughed. “Your sense of humour is developing nicely.”

Matthias rejoined her. “I’ve always had one.”

“Could’ve fooled me; you were a right miserable git when we first met. I’m glad we don’t have to deal with two Kaz Brekkers moping about.” Nina smirked.

“We’re not even dealing with one right now.”

“I know. Is it bad that part of me misses him?”

“Yes.”

“I assumed as much.” Nina smiled. “So, how does Maroch Glen compare to Fjerda? I hear it’s bloody freezing there.”

“To non-Fjerdans, perhaps.” Matthias considered for a moment. “It’s much greener here. Less ice and snow.”

“You’ll forgive me for not putting it at the top of my vacation list.”

“You’d be missing out on the Fjerdan bakeries. The best pastry you’ll ever eat.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Matthias Helvar.” Nina said. “...Fine, I’ll bump it up a few spots. Maybe you can take me with you when you visit.”

Matthias went quiet. “...I doubt I’ll ever go back home.”

“Why not?”

Matthias hesitated, but he was surprised to find he wanted to tell her. There was genuine curiosity in her lovely eyes that he found endearing. “To serve your country is one of the greatest honours for a Fjerdan. I barely had a chance before it was all over. I was ashamed.”

“It’s not your fault that you had to be discharged.”

“I know, but I still couldn’t face my family’s pity. I felt like I didn’t deserve to remain in Fjerda. So I ran.”

“That’s why you relocated when you joined the force?” Nina asked. Matthias nodded. “When did you last see your family?”

“A long time ago. I write to them often, not that it’s the same as being with them.” Matthias said.

“I think you’re being too bloody hard on yourself.” Nina said. “That being said, I’m glad you came overseas. It led you to Ketterdam, and then to us. People to belong to without fear of shame. I’d never had a family until I joined the Crows. Saints knows who or what or where my parents are. I found people who’ve got my back; that’s all I’ll ever need. We’ve got your back, too.”

Matthias smiled. “...And I’ve got yours.”

“Maybe if we hold you up and cheer you on, you’ll be able to face going back to Fjerda one day. I’m sure your family would love to hear stories about your favourite colleague in person.” Nina smirked.

Matthias laughed, moving to make his way back down the cliff. “I’m not sure I’ve mentioned you in my letters, I’m afraid.”

“Not even once?” Nina hurried after him. “What else is there to possibly write about?!”

...

Jesper stood a short distance away from Mal, watching with amusement as he walked through some woodland with Pearl at his side. They were laughing a lot, which Jesper could only assume was good, but there were also moments when Pearl would stop and speak seriously to him with her hands gripping his arms.

He had to admit, he couldn’t work Pearl Stapleton out at all. Sometimes she was the embodiment of sunshine, and then everything changed at a moment’s notice. He could see why Mal was attracted to her, though. He could see why she was attracted to him in return. They looked good together.

Unlike the previous day, running into her had been a complete coincidence. Mal had just been saying he intended to respect Jack Stapleton’s wishes when they stumbled across her reading on a bench. Having explained she enjoyed soaking up the outdoors, she invited Mal to go for a walk, and he was never going to decline an offer like that.

After a while, the two of them parted ways and Mal hurried back over to Jesper.

“Enjoy your first date?” Jesper grinned.

“Stop it.” Mal laughed. “...She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. She’s just...wonderful. Pure. True.”

“If you’re going to keep this up, let me know so I can vomit.”

“You’ve really never been instantly enamoured with someone?”

“Enamoured? No, I wouldn’t go that far.” Jesper said.

“Someone will sweep you off your feet one day, my friend. You won’t know what hit you.” Mal said.

“Whatever you say.” Jesper rolled his eyes. “Anyway, it looked like she was getting quite serious back there.”

“People are still on edge about everything. Journalists going around asking questions, too. This one guy really creeped her and Jack out.” Mal explained. “She, um...she made me promise to stay at the inn with you guys for a few nights. I think it’ll ease her mind about the hound.”

“I’m sure we can sort you a room out. Quite sweet that she worries about you like that. Slightly weird and maybe a tad suspicious depending on who you ask, but sweet.”

“...You don’t think she’s involved in anything bad, do you?” Mal asked nervously. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but my gut’s telling me to trust her.”

Jesper shrugged. “We don’t know enough to draw any conclusions. No need to cancel the wedding just yet.”

He wanted to reassure Mal, but he couldn’t entirely ignore the voice in the back of his head. You shouldn’t be trusting anyone around here.

...

Inej and Wylan left Doctor Mortimer’s home with a feeling of frustration. All the Morozova-related deaths that she had information on could be easily explained away as bad luck, genetic heart conditions or plagues. Maybe there really was nothing suspicious about Sir Charles’ death after all? Maybe he hadn’t been summoned outside in the early hours? Maybe he knew he was dying and wanted to be dressed and among the fresh air in his final moments?

“It feels like we keep chipping away at the ice but it still refuses to crack.” Inej sighed. “We normally have something concrete by now. A semblance of an idea forming. I don’t know what’s fact or fiction anymore.”

“We’ll get there, we always do.” Wylan said. Internally, he was equally as annoyed at the glacial pace of the investigation. Leads were drying up quickly. Time was running out. Something had to give.

“Kaz should’ve come with us. I can’t...we can’t do this without him. We’re missing something he wouldn’t.” Inej said.

“We don’t know that.” Wylan placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. “He trusted us with this. He trusted you. We can do this, it’s just a tough nut to crack.”

I’d believe you if he was here, Inej thought. No case ever defeated Kaz Brekker. He was still investigating the ones he never solved. He would never relent. There wouldn’t be anything to gain financially from them anymore; as far as he was concerned, it would get to a point where having the answers would be reward enough. Inej refused to add this one to the pile, not when he’d given it to her in good faith. He never did anything in good faith.

He trusted her, and she was letting him down.

“...You’re missing him, aren’t you?” Wylan asked with a small smile.

“I...I just have more faith in myself when he’s around.” Inej said. Kaz had saved her from a terrible life. Despite the walls he built around himself and the ruthlessness he practiced, she felt safe with him.

“You don’t need him for that.” Wylan linked his arm with hers as they walked. “You’ve got us to lean on, too. We’re all in this together. There’s no group of people I’d rather be eaten by a demon hound with.”

Inej laughed. “Agreed.”

They headed back to The Fox and Hound for lunch in much higher spirits, blissfully unaware of the impending terror that awaited them that night.

...

It had been another day of little progress. Mal had once again hosted the Crows for dinner, and Inej opted to spend the night at the mansion again. This time, Jesper volunteered to keep her company, sleeping in the room next to hers.

She almost couldn’t believe it when she saw the shadow pass by her door in the early hours, just as it had two nights prior. This was it. A chance to find out something.

She waited a minute or so before creeping out of the room and pressing her head against the next door down, whispering delicately. “Jesper?”

The door opened, and Jesper emerged. He was still fully dressed, having clearly been hoping for something like this to occur. “I saw it too. Barrymore again?”

“I think so. This way.”

They crept down the corridor together and turned the corner. With immense satisfaction, they watched as John Barrymore once again stood at the window with his lantern. He signalled with its light just as he had before, and turned to leave.

“Can’t sleep?” Jesper asked him. “And don’t pretend to be sleepwalking.”

John let out a startled cry, his face immensely pale as he realised he’d been caught red-handed. “I...I was just...”

“Who are you signalling to, Mr Barrymore? I saw you doing the exact same thing the night before last.” Inej said.

“I-I’m sorry, but...that’s private information.” John said, trying to hold his rattled nerve.

“If you don’t want us making incorrect assumptions, I’d suggest telling us the truth.” Jesper said.

“...It’s not for me to tell you. I’ll have to ask my wife.” John sighed.

“Eliza knows about this?” Inej asked.

“She’s who I’m doing this for.” John said, defeated. “...Does Master Oretsev know of this?”

“He does.”

John lowered his head. “...I see. Very well, it is time for the truth. I will fetch Eliza. Meet us in the library.”

In due course, everyone had gathered to hear what the Barrymores had to say for themselves. Inej sat opposite them at the table, while Jesper lingered by the closest bookcase. Eliza was visibly shaking, clinging to her husband’s hand as if her life depended on it.

“We assumed Master Oretsev was suspicious when he said he was sleeping at the inn until further notice.” Eliza sighed.

“That’s not why he’s staying away. He’s just keeping a promise.” Jesper said. “Though we’ll have to tell him whatever you tell us tonight.”

“...Yes, of course. It’s only right he knows what’s been happening in his own home.” John nodded. “I’m just sorry we don’t know him well enough to know if we could have confided in him from the start.”

“Confided in him about what?” Inej asked.

“You were right, Miss Ghafa. I was signalling someone.” John admitted.

“Who?”

“...His name is Arken.”

Jesper stepped forward. “Sorry, for a moment there I thought you said you’ve been contacting the escaped murderer.”

“There are many caves and caverns in the hills across the field, some natural and some man-made. He’s been hiding out in one since his escape.” John explained. “We provided him with a lantern; every other night I signal to him with one here, and if he responds with his we both know it’s safe. Eliza makes him food to last him a day or two, and when the coast is clear I cross the field and deliver it to him.”

“Why on earth would you help him?” Jesper wondered.

Eliza let out a deep sigh. “...Because he’s my brother.”

“Your brother?!” Inej exclaimed.

“My younger brother, yes. He’s not a dangerous man! Our father was very violent; Arken was only trying to protect me...he grabbed a knife from the kitchen and...he didn’t mean to kill him! He saved my life; I could never abandon him. John, Sir Charles...they understood. I would go and visit him often. We moved to The Wandering Isle all those years ago because that’s where they sent him.” Eliza revealed. “A few weeks ago, a distracted guard hadn’t secured his cell properly. He managed to sneak out and came and found us here, begging for help to keep him hidden. We were his only allies in the world...we knew he had to stay close, but not in the house.”

“So he picked a cave and you’ve been supplying him ever since? Food, clothes?” Jesper said.

“Yes...” Eliza said.

“...It was you two, wasn’t it? You took Mal’s clothes the night we arrived!” Inej realised.

“We couldn’t procure any others without questions being asked, and Arken was struggling awfully with only his prison clothes. Master Oretsev has a similar build, so...yes. While he was asleep I took a shirt and jacket from his room. I hoped we’d get the chance to explain at some point, and Master Oretsev has a whole fortune to spend on clothes now...” Eliza said.

“But why did you take his boot back in Ketterdam?” Jesper puzzled.

Eliza looked confused. “...His boot?”

“We haven’t taken anything else, I swear it.” John said. “We haven’t left The Wandering Isle for years. You can ask the other staff; they’d know if either of us had gone anywhere recently.”

“Just when I thought we were getting somewhere...” Inej cursed.

“We’ve shamed the Morozova family with our actions, I know...but we had no choice. I am loyal to my brother too.” Eliza said. “Do you think Master Oretsev will understand?”

“He’s a good guy. I don’t think he’ll turn you or Arken in. Whether or not you’ll still have jobs is another thing; he needs people he can trust right now.” Jesper said.

John took Eliza’s hand, and they both nodded acceptingly.

“If that is his wish, we could not judge him for it.” He said.

“What about all of you? What will you do?” Eliza wondered.

“...If he was protecting you as you say, and if he’s content with a life on the run...I won’t stand in the way. We’re not the police, after all.” Jesper said. “I’d probably do the same for my brother. Well, if I had one.”

“But he can’t live in a cave forever. He’ll need to leave The Wandering Isle and never look back. Start a new life.” Inej noted.

“I know. We’ve been waiting for the right time to make plans for him to flee.” John said.

“We can help organise something, and come up with a way to let the locals know Arken has gone for good to ease their worries.” Inej said. “...I think we need to pay him a visit.”

Prepped with a supply of food and with clear directions from the Barrymores, Inej and Jesper set off across the field and descended into the hills.

“It’s no wonder Arken needed a lantern.” Jesper noted. “I’d have never spotted any of the caves if I didn’t know to look for them. I’m not surprised we didn’t see any when we were looking around the other night.”

“This one here! They said the fifth one we come to, didn’t they?” Inej queried.

“Yeah. So long as we didn’t miss any...” Jesper said, approaching a small cavern built into the side of a hill. “Poor man must’ve been miserable hanging out here all this time.”

As they got nearer, the light from their lanterns began pouring into the cavern, and within moments footsteps echoed from inside. A tall man with a thick black beard emerged wearing Mal’s missing shirt; at the sight of Inej and Jesper stood there waiting, he dropped his lantern and ran.

“Wait, come back! Your sister told us everything! It’s okay!” Inej shouted.

“We did not think this through.” Jesper said as they chased after him.

After minutes of endless running up and down, left and right, Arken proved to be a difficult target to track; he gave Inej and Jesper the slip and vanished into the night. Tired and out of breath, they tried to get their bearings and return to the mansion.

“This hasn’t been our finest moment.” Jesper sighed. “And my shoes are ruined.”

“This case...” Inej shook her head. “If we don’t get somewhere with it soon I’ll-”

She was interrupted by a guttural, blood-curdling sound that made them both drop their lanterns, leaving them smashed on the ground. A noise unlike anything either of them had ever heard. A howl that resonated deep within their bones.

The battle cry of a hound.

“Jes, was that...?” Inej turned to see Jesper staring upwards. Even through the darkness, she could see the disbelief and fear written all over his face. She knew what she would see when she followed his line of sight, but it still took a few seconds to work up the courage to do so.

When she did, she saw the shape of a large animal stood at the top of the hill, growling furiously. The hound gave off a sickly, yellowish glow that cut through the night; they both wanted to look away but couldn’t take their eyes off it. It was only when it started running towards them that they took each other’s hand and sprinted for their lives.

Inej heard a scream, but was too terrified to know whether it came from her mouth or Jesper’s. She could feel her legs seizing up, almost paralysed with fear. They had no idea where they were going or how to get back, but they knew they couldn’t afford to stop.

After what felt like an eternity, they heard the hound howl again. It sounded far away, and they took the opportunity to slow down. They stood there catching their breath for a while, looking around desperately in case the hound had found them again.

Inej looked at Jesper, and saw his face was wet with tears. She realised hers was too. “Jes, I thought...”

He pulled her into a hug and held her close. “Me too.”

“It’s real.” Inej whispered, her entire body shaking. “It’s real.”

“Inej...” Jesper said, pulling away and pointing over to where a rock formation loomed from above.  Someone was stood on top of it, silently watching them from afar. A silhouetted figure in the moonlight.

Inej and Jesper didn’t hesitate to make the climb themselves, but by the time they got there the mysterious watcher was gone.

...

They didn’t go back to the mansion, instead silently making their way to The Fox and Hound Inn. They needed to be near people they loved. Everyone was asleep, but Jesper managed to rouse Matthias by throwing pebbles at his window and got him to come and let them in.

After an unstructured retelling of events by their shaken colleagues, the other Crows rallied around them. Nina insisted on staying in a room with Inej. Before she even thought about trying to get some sleep, Inej wrote a letter to Kaz:

‘Help us. Please.’

Jesper sat on the end of the bed (Matthias had given his up and slept on the floor in Mal’s room), not even bothering to try and rest. He knew there was no way he would sleep anytime soon.

He ignored the knocking on the door at first, but eventually found the strength to get up and open it. Wylan was stood there with a cup of hot cocoa, offering it to him with a small, sympathetic smile.

“I thought you could use one.” He said.

“...Thanks.” Jesper said, taking it and sitting back down. “Everyone’s asleep. Where did you get this?”

“I may have broken into the kitchen and made it myself. I left a note with some kruge as an apology.” Wylan winced.

Jesper was relieved to find he could still smile. That’s the most Wylan thing he’s ever done. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Let’s agree to disagree.” Wylan said, and sat down beside him. He’d never seen Jesper look so unlike himself. He couldn’t imagine how scared he and Inej must have been out there. It made it very difficult to continue being annoyed with him.

“How’s Inej?” Jesper asked.

“I just checked in on her and Nina. She’s asleep.”

“Good. That’s good.” Jesper nodded and took a sip of cocoa. It was warm and sweet, just like the man who’d made it for him.

“If you want to be alone, I can-”

“-Don’t go.”

“...Okay, I won’t.” Wylan said, tentatively placing a hand on Jesper’s shoulder. “...Do you want to talk about it?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. When I...when I saw it glaring down at us...I thought that was it. I thought we were dead.” Jesper shuddered.

“I really didn’t think it was real.” Wylan admitted.

“You believe us, then?”

Wylan smiled. “I know you like attention, but you wouldn’t make this up. Of course I believe you.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. It was glowing. I’ve never seen anything like it. If Inej hadn’t seen it too I’d have said I was hallucinating.”

“And the person stood there watching you, who was that?”

“I’m not sure. Arken, probably.” Jesper sighed. “...I feel so...off. I don’t get like this.”

“It’s okay not to be strong all the time. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t shaken up.” Wylan said.

“Yeah, I know. I’m being stupid.”

Wylan smirked. “I thought you said you weren’t feeling yourself?”

“Rude! What sort of bedside manner is this?” Jesper laughed. “Don’t give up the day job, Hendriks.”

“Who would give up madness like this?” Wylan said. “...Can I get you anything else?”

“Would you, um...would you stay in here tonight? I’d rather not be on my own. No funny business, obviously.” Jesper requested.

Wylan nodded. Obviously. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thanks.” Jesper smiled. “That being said, if you snore I will kick you out.”

...

When the morning came, there was no time to waste. Inej and Jesper were ordered to take the day off and get some rest after their ordeal. Matthias accompanied Mal to the Morozova mansion to update – and confront - the Barrymores, leaving Nina and Wylan to return to the hills and see if they had better luck in both finding Arken and avoiding the hound.

Not unsurprisingly, they located Arken’s hideout and found it deserted.

“He’ll have been scared off for sure. I bet he’s found another cave to hide in.” Nina said.

“Makes sense.” Wylan agreed.

“So...” Nina began as they continued their exploration. “...I gather you and Jesper shared a room last night.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Just how well did you comfort him, I wonder?” Nina teased.

“I’m not having this conversation. I was comforting a friend after an awful incident, just like you were.” Wylan noted.

“Except you have a big old crush on Jes.”

“I think you need to substitute yourself and Matthias into that sentence.”

“...I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you know very well. And I have a feeling he’s rather interested too...”

Nina stopped. “Has he said something to you?”

“He says lots of things. I’m sure I don’t remember.” Wylan smirked. “I wouldn’t have thought he was your type.”

“Tall, handsome, muscular, sense of humour and loyalty...not a particularly hard sell.” Nina grinned.

“Nina, look!” Wylan pointed to a nearby cave. Just outside it sat a pile of firewood and a fishing rod. “Occupied.”

“Well, well, well...” Nina said, gesturing for Wylan to follow as she cautiously approached.

They entered the cave to find a burnt out fire in the middle, piles of clothes forming a bed and pages upon pages of notes and newspaper remnants scattered across the floor. Several photographs of local villagers were also amongst them, some familiar to Nina and Wylan and some complete strangers. The occupant was nowhere to be seen.

“I can’t see this being where Arken moved to. This has been used for days.” Wylan said, finding a bag of fresh sandwiches next to the makeshift bed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Nina groaned as she examined one of the papers. “I’ll wring the bastard’s neck.”

“What?” Wylan asked.

Nina handed him the paper. “Recognise the handwriting?”

“...He’s not.” Wylan gasped.

A new but familiar voice echoed through the cave as they appeared at its entrance. “He is.”

Nina’s jaw dropped. “Kaz?!”

“Took you long enough. Quite frankly, it’s shoddy work from all of you.” Kaz said. “Help yourself to a sandwich.”

“How long have you been here?” Wylan asked, holding the bag of sandwiches open for Nina to peruse excitedly.

“I arrived the day after you.”

“Are you insane?” Nina exclaimed.

“Not that I’m aware of.”                                                      

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Wylan wondered.

“This was clearly a complicated case; someone was playing a dangerous game. Whoever’s behind this...we needed something to play against them. If they’re messing with all of you, they’re not paying attention to me while I do some digging of my own. The best cover for secretly having all of us here is if none of you knew about it. If needed, we can spring a trap no one will see coming.” Kaz explained.

“Inej has been writing to you! Begging you for help!” Nina said.

“Then she’ll be delighted.” Kaz said.

“Kaz, she and Jesper could’ve been killed last night. This hound you laughed at the idea of...it’s real.” Wylan said.

“I know. I heard it last night.” Kaz said. “I’ll admit, I was surprised it wasn’t a fabrication or cover story.”

“You heard it?”

Kaz nodded. “I climbed up some rocks to try and get a look, but it was long gone. I saw two of you stood there; now I know who.”

“The person stood watching them last night, that was you?” Nina asked.

Kaz nodded. “Looks that way. I’m flattered you recognised my handwriting, by the way. When I saw you coming I thought I’d step away and see if you still had the capability to work something out.”

“You’re lucky you have sandwiches, Brekker, or else I’d be feeling very violent.” Nina sneered.

“You’ve been living here all this time?” Wylan asked.

“I swapped caves after the first day, but yes. I didn’t want you lot seeing through my disguise if I stayed close by.” Kaz explained. “I’ve been pretending to be a journalist, rinsing all I can from the locals and snapping a picture of them for my definitely real articles.”

“The abrasive journalist that’s been sniffing about? Of course that was you.” Nina shook her head.

“I made sure to keep out of your way. It’s given me a lead you all appear to have overlooked.”

“Which is?”

“I’ve been getting pictures and attaching names to them and vice versa, asking the locals to fill in the blanks for a few kruge if needed. I wanted to see whose name was being thrown around despite not showing their face.” Kaz revealed. “The one person who hasn’t been seen around since Charles’ death? Laura Frankland.”

“We met her father at the pub when we first got here. He told me she’d been shaken by what happened. Reasonable response.” Nina shrugged.

“Upset? Fine. But shaken by the death of a man she barely knows? Still not leaving her house? It’s worth paying her a visit. I was hoping you’d have circled back to her by now.” Kaz sighed.

“We’ve been busy, you know! We worked out where Arken was, and I bet you don’t know who he’s connected to. Did you ever run into him?” Nina questioned.

“I assumed he was hiding around here when I heard about him, but no; we’ve managed to avoid each other. Congratulations, you solved a mystery completely separate from our actual case.”

Nina bit her tongue, taking another bite of her sandwich instead of saying what she really wanted to say.

“He’s the younger brother of Mal’s housekeeper. Harmless, apparently. She and her husband have been supplying him with food. Inej and Jesper caught them in the act; that’s why they were out in the hills last night, looking for him.” Wylan explained.

“Beats having to catch fish to get by.” Kaz noted. “I didn’t think he was involved. There’s no link between him and all the Morozova’s past misfortunes. Unless there’s a miraculous turn of events, we can discount him.”

“Miraculous like, say, the hound turning out to be real?” Nina said.

“A hound is real, yes, but the hound? Remember, this creature would have to be a hundred years old or there’s a family of bloodthirsty dogs keeping up a family tradition. Neither scenario is likely. There’s more to be explained.” Kaz said.

“Inej and Jesper said it glowed.” Wylan recalled.

Kaz raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. What colour?”

“Like a yellowish, I think. Is the colour important?”

“Come on, Wylan, you’re better than that.” Kaz sighed.

“I’ll tell you one thing for certain, Brekker; you’re coming with us and telling the others all of this in person. You owe them that much.” Nina ordered.

“...I am in sudden need of food replenishment.” Kaz said, watching Nina stuff a couple of sandwiches into her pockets. And I want to make sure Inej and Jesper are okay, he thought to himself. They’ll be happy to see me, if nothing else.

...

They were not happy to see him.

“I can’t believe you been here all along!” Jesper exclaimed after everyone had gathered back in one of the rooms at The Fox and Hound. “We needed your help!”

“I’d have come forward eventually. If we’re going to go on long expeditions for cases in future we’ll need to do some serious work on our organisation skills. Why hasn’t anyone looked into Laura Frankland yet?” Kaz asked.

“We’ve had a lot to deal with.” Inej argued. “It’s clearly easier to piece things together by lying to everyone.”

“You’re welcome.” Kaz said.

“Don’t.” Inej shook her head. She’d never been angrier with Kaz, and he’d pushed her buttons plenty of times in the past. They liked riling each other up, but this was too far. “I spent ages writing up a detailed report for you.”

“I look forward to reading it when we get back.”

“Well you can read this one right now!” Inej said, slamming an envelope against Kaz’s chest and storming out. Nina followed her, while the others fell into a discussion over what to do next.

Kaz retreated into the corner and opened the envelope:

‘Kaz,

Help us. Please. The hound isn’t a legend, it’s real. Jesper and I could’ve died tonight.

I hate admitting it, but I’m scared. I don’t know what to do. Come as soon as you can.

We need you.

- Inej’

He left the room and found Inej and Nina stood right outside the door in deep conversation. He hovered there for a moment before Nina passed him to go back inside.

“I was doing what was best for the case.” Kaz said.

“What’s best for the case is a team that sticks together.” Nina replied, closing the door behind her.

Silence.

Kaz was the one to break it. “Inej...”

“I don’t want to hear it, Kaz. Not right now.” Inej said. “You know, when I saw that hound coming for us...I thought of the people I wish I could have said goodbye to. My mother, my father...and you. But you were there, watching. Nina told me.”

“I didn’t know it was you and Jesper.”

“So? What if the hound had come back? Would you have just stood there and watched it kill us, strangers or not?”

“Of course not.”

“How do you expect us to trust you when you do stuff like this? I thought we were...it doesn’t even matter.” Inej sighed.

“I...if I’d known the hound was real I wouldn’t have put you all in the firing line like that. You were scared and I allowed that to happen...that was wrong.” Kaz said quietly.

“Too damn right.” Inej said. “I know you’re better at this than the rest of us, but that doesn’t mean you have to do this sort of thing alone. You’re in charge; if you wanted to do your own thing, just tell us that!”

“I...hadn’t considered that.”

“Because you like knowing things no one else does, I know. For a smart man, you can be incredibly stupid.”

Kaz wanted to tell her she was wrong, but he couldn’t. “...Most bosses wouldn’t permit being spoken to like this.”

“You’re not like most bosses. Unfortunately.” Inej folded her arms.

Again, she was right. Kaz couldn’t deny that. If only that helped the remark hurt a little less. Best to ignore it and move forward. Maybe I should give everyone some time to themselves, he thought. “...I’m going to see Laura Frankland.”

“Who as?”

“Whoever I need to be.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“You’re supposed to be taking the day off, Inej.”

“I’m coming.”

Kaz wasn’t in the mood for a fight. Not with her. Never with her. “Fine.”

...

Kaz had once again assumed his guise as a journalist, having already knocked on Frankland’s door a few days prior to ask a few questions. Inej was visibly irritated, but understood he had to keep up appearances now he’d started.

“Has Frankland seen you around?” Kaz asked as they approached the front door of a rather neglected house.

“Yeah. He knows I’m an investigator.” Inej confirmed. “So how do we spin this? We’ve teamed up through our passion for finding out the truth?”

“Journalists don’t want the truth, they want the best story. Sometimes it just so happens to be the truth, too.” Kaz said. “We could be husband and wife.”

Inej blushed. “What?”

“Brother and sister would be a more difficult sell, don’t you think?”

“That would be a bit too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t it?”

“True. Passion for the truth it is, then.” Kaz said and knocked on the door.

Frankland answered, staring at them both in turn. “I know you two.”

“Very observant, sir.” Kaz said. “Is your daughter in? We’d like to speak with her.”

“She’s upstairs, but she won’t see anyone. I’ve already told you all you need to know; the prisoner and the hound, in cahoots!” Frankland exclaimed.

“We’d only need a few minutes of her time.” Inej said.

“We all need things, doesn’t mean we get ‘em.” Frankland said.

“Terrible shame. Well, can’t be helped. I suppose the world will know the truth about her soon enough.” Kaz shrugged, turning to go.

“Hold on...what truth? What are you blathering on about?” Frankland demanded.

Kaz leaned forward. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I have a friend in the office of Daily Kerch. They’re getting ready to run a story exposing Laura Frankland as Sir Charles’ secret mistress.”

“...She...WHAT?! That’s ridiculous! Charlie was old enough to be her father! I’ll...I’ll sue them for slander!”

“So it’s not true?”

“Why on earth would it be?!”

“Well, she’s shut herself away ever since his death...it’s gotten people talking about how close they must have been. News spreads fast, Mr Frankland, let me tell you.” Kaz said, holding back a smirk. He loved gullible people.

“She barely knew the man! She’s not seeing anyone. I’ll...I’ll have her set the record straight! I’ll drag her out of that bed myself if I have to!” Frankland’s face had turned red with rage as he stormed upstairs.

“So that he doesn’t believe?” Inej rolled her eyes. “He didn’t even question why we were here together.”

“All he ever does is connect the unconnected, I suppose. Idiots love seeing patterns that aren’t there.”

After a very loud argument coming from upstairs, Kaz and Inej were relieved when Laura Frankland ultimately descended into the living room with her father just behind. Her hair and clothes were pristine, but her gaunt face and pale skin spoke to something behind the façade. Guilt, Kaz observed. It was physically and metaphorically eating away at her.

“...Are you with the police? My father says you aren’t, but...” Laura said timidly.

Inej could finish the sentence for her. But he spouts an awful lot of rubbish. She handed Laura her card. “I’m looking into what happened to Sir Charles, but I’m not from the police. There’s no reason to report anything to them unless absolutely necessary, and as far as they’re concerned the case is already closed.”

“And anything I report can be from an anonymous source.” Kaz added. “...I can see there’s something you need to get off your chest.”

“I didn’t kill him!” Laura insisted.

“No one’s saying you did, but if there’s a reason you’ve been hiding away since Sir Charles’ passing then I promise it’s in your best interest to tell someone.” Inej said.

“I didn’t kill him.” Laura repeated. “But...I was the reason he was there that night, outside in the cold. He was waiting to meet me. I...I didn’t show up, and then the next morning I heard about what happened. I just couldn’t face it. If I’d have been there, or if I never arranged to meet him in the first place…he might still be alive.”

“Why were you meeting him?” Kaz asked.

“I’ve always wanted to open a salon, and he’d offered to invest so I could finally do it. He was so kind about it. We were going to talk through the details, but I got cold feet. I thought I was asking too much, and I didn’t know if I was ready, and I didn’t want to risk waking my father at so early an hour.” Laura explained.

“Then why meet at that time?” Inej questioned.

“...I didn’t want people talking. I suppose they did anyway.” Laura sighed.

Not really, Kaz thought. “Indeed.”

“There we have it, then! You can tell those lowlifes at Daily Kerch how it really is!” Frankland said.

“I certainly can.” Kaz said. “I think we’ve got all we need. Thank you for your time.”

He turned and left with Inej at his side. Once the Franklands were out of earshot, Inej turned to him. “What do you make of her?”

“She’s lying.” Kaz said.

“About what?”

“I’m not sure yet, but she’s holding something back.”

“How can you tell?”

Kaz shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “Her perfume.”

An idea was beginning to form in Kaz’s mind; a possible answer to the who, but they needed more information before he could pinpoint the why. With this inkling in his head, he decided his undercover work had now run its course, and he may as well join the others at the inn. Perhaps a trap wouldn’t be needed after all.

“Let’s head back.” He suggested.

...

After another day of pondering theories and resting up, Kaz returned to the cave he’d been working from to retrieve his possessions; he’d been hit with the sudden realisation that someone could stumble across his notes on the case and compromise the investigation. Inej had silently joined him, and he didn’t argue against it.

He stuffed a few papers into his coat and burned the rest. He packed up his clothes and the fishing rod he’d purchased at a store in the village, grateful when Inej took a bag to carry for him. As he hadn’t been able to bring his cane along, the journey back would have been agony. Maroch Glen wasn’t kind to his bad leg.

“It’s getting dark.” Inej noted, peering outside. “We should hurry.”

It had been the first words she’d said since they’d set out; outside of the investigation, she clearly still wasn’t feeling inclined to speak to him.

“Inej.” Kaz wasn’t sure if he’d actually managed to speak until she looked at him at the mention of her name. “...I’m sorry. For not telling you I was here.”

Inej wasn’t sure what to say; an outright apology from Kaz Brekker was rare. I missed you, and you were right there the whole time. You could be standing right next to him and he’d still feel a million miles away. “I knew deep down you couldn’t resist a case like this. Were all your reasons for not coming a big pack of lies?”

“Not all of it. I did think it sounded ridiculous. I thought it was too big for us to handle.” Kaz said. “How could I resist?”

“...I’m just disappointed you didn’t trust me.” Inej admitted.

“I do trust you.” Kaz said, surprising himself. He didn’t realise how much he meant it – that he meant it that much at all – until the words left his lips. “More than anyone.”

“Kaz...” Inej began. She didn’t know what she was going to say, but it felt right in the moment to speak his name. To reach out to him as he’d tried reaching out to her. It wasn’t forgiveness. She’d make him work a bit harder for that. It was an acknowledgement. A way she could let him know he’d begun to make things right.

When she opened her mouth to speak again, she was cut off by a scream of terror from nearby. Kaz practically flew to the mouth of the cave; the clouds were drawing in and it had started to rain, making it hard to see anything.

Inej froze. “It’s back, isn’t it?”

“We don’t know that.” Kaz said.

A loud howl echoed through the hills. The same howl as the one they’d both heard the previous night. It was followed by another scream, this time a bit further away and followed by a series of loud crunches; impacts of objects hitting the ground.

Kaz could see Inej was trembling. “Stay here.”

“No.” Inej said. I won’t let it have you. “I’m not running this time.”

They dropped their bags and ventured cautiously outside. It had gotten dark quickly. They looked around frantically, back-to-back.

I should’ve taken the day off, Inej thought.

“You should’ve taken the day off.” Kaz said. “If you see it, just run. Don’t try and keep to my pace; we both know you’re faster. Don’t look back.”

“I couldn’t leave you behind.”

“No need to worry.” Kaz stated firmly. “This isn’t how I go out. I’ve got scores to settle first.”

“Kaz.” Inej pointed to another rock formation towering over them, much like the one they were around the night before. It looked worn and run-down, with a jagged tip hovering above a large drop below. Jagged, they realised, as if a chunk of it had just fallen away.

They hurried over to it, taking tentative steps in case any more of it crumbled off. Kaz went right to the end and looked down. Chunks of rock were newly littered on the grass below, though one appeared much smaller than the others. Kaz knelt down, squinting. That’s not a rock at all...

“Be careful!” Inej shouted after him, suddenly noting a change in his body language. “...What is it? Kaz?”

“Go back to the village. Get the police.” Kaz said, unable to look away from the broken body of a man at the bottom of the cliff, bleeding out onto the rocks and grass where he lay motionless.

...

Everyone was eating dinner in the pub when Kaz and Inej returned.

“We were just about to send out a search party.” Nina said. “What took you so long? Where’s all Brekker’s stuff?”

“I’ll buy new clothes.” Kaz said. It was clearly unsafe to go back to the hills without a clear plan to defend yourself.

“We’ve been with the police.” Inej announced. “...Arken is dead.”

Mal looked up from his drink. “What?!”

“What happened? The hound?” Jesper asked.

Kaz nodded. “It was chasing him and he didn’t see how close to the edge of the cliff he was. It collapsed underneath him; he didn’t stand a chance.”

“Poor Mrs Barrymore...” Wylan noted.

“The police are supporting her at the mansion. We didn’t tell them she’d been helping him.” Inej said.

“I should go and make sure she’s alright.” Mal announced, getting up to leave.

“She didn’t seem in the right frame of mind to see anyone, Mal. She’s devastated.” Inej said. “She has John to lean on; I’d wait until morning to offer condolences.”

“So it hunts down Arken and wanted to kill us...sounds like anyone is fair game with this thing, not just Morozovas.” Jesper said.

“Arken would’ve still been close by last night and now this...it’s like he’s the common denominator of its last two attacks.” Inej considered. “Jes and I were lambs to the slaughter, but it left us alone.”

“You think it was looking for Arken? Why? He’s completely unconnected, isn’t he?” Nina asked.

“He’s been out in the hills for a while now without the hound coming after him. What would have changed that suddenly made him a target?” Matthias wondered.

Inej always enjoyed moments like these in an investigation; everyone stood, silently contemplating. How did events link up? What had they missed? She took a moment to enjoy the puzzled looks on her friends’ faces. Even Mal, who had been unknowingly thrown into this mess, looked as if he was trying to put the pieces together. The poor man. He didn’t ask for any of this. Did he long for his life before all of this? Before hounds that haunted his family name and clothes swiped from under his nose?

Clothes. Inej’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“What is it?” Mal asked, concerned by the intensity in which Inej was staring at him.

“I know what changed.” Inej revealed. “He started wearing Mal’s clothes; the ones the Barrymores stole for him.”

“The hound has been trained to hunt down and attack Mal’s scent.” Kaz said, nodding in agreement with Inej’s conclusion. “...The boot! That’s why they took your boot back in Ketterdam. It could’ve been anything; they only needed to grab the first thing of yours they saw.”

“I did put them right by the door.” Mal recalled.

“They only needed to open the door, swipe one and go. A clean getaway. After that, they get the hound to learn Mal’s scent from the boot ready for him to arrive at Maroch Glen.” Kaz said. “This is about the Morozovas; Arken just got caught in the crossfire.”

“The Barrymores thought they were protecting him, but instead they were marking him for death.” Wylan said sadly.

“So the hound has a master?” Jesper said.

“Did you really think it was acting alone? Of course it has a master.” Kaz said. And I just might know who.

“Pearl Stapleton was right to warn you away.” Matthias turned to Mal. “Do not go out on the hills under any circumstances.”

Mal held up his hands. “No arguments from me. I just...I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong.”

“Exist.” Kaz said.

“What he means is someone has a personal vendetta against your bloodline.” Nina corrected, noting the offended look on Mal’s face.

Inej recognised the particular fire in Kaz’s eyes. “You have a hunch?”

“I’ve had one since we spoke to Laura Frankland, and nothing we’ve seen or heard since has disproved it, but that’s not enough. I need less room for doubt.” Kaz stated. “If we get this wrong, the real culprit could slip through our fingers forever.”

...

The Crows were halfway through their breakfast the next morning when a thought occurred to Wylan and an important question was asked. “Isn’t Mal awake yet?”

“I knocked on his door a few times, but no answer.” Matthias said.

“Finding out someone is definitely trying to kill you is a good reason to stay in bed.” Nina said.

“I’ll go and check on him.” Jesper offered, partly because Jenny had just started her shift at the bar and was glaring at him. What the hell did I say?!

He hurried upstairs and knocked on the door of Mal’s room. “Malyen! Come out this instant, young man!”

A very undressed Mal opened the door. “I’ll be down soon.”

Jesper half-heartedly shielded his eyes. “...Have you got someone in there?”

“...No.”

“Good, then I can come in!” Jesper beamed, pushing past Mal and walking in to see a mortified Pearl wrapped up in the bed covers, staring at him. “Good morning, Miss Stapleton.”

“Out!” Mal dragged an amused Jesper back into the corridor.

“Good morning indeed.” Jesper laughed. “Not wasting any time, good for you!”

“Look, I...it all happened so fast.”

“Happens to the best of us.”

“It must’ve been four or five in the morning; Pearl was knocking on my door and threw her arms around me as soon as I opened it. She’d heard someone had died in the hills and was scared it was me.” Mal explained.

“Clearly she was rather pleased it wasn’t.” Jesper smirked.

Mal’s embarrassment faded into a smile. “She kissed me and before I knew it...”

“It was inevitable.” Jesper said.

The door opened, and a fully dressed Pearl emerged. “I...I’m sorry you walked in on that.”

“No harm done.” Jesper smiled.

“I, um...I should go. I have to go. I...” Pearl breathed heavily. “I’m sorry. Mal, I...we...that shouldn’t have happened.”

Mal’s smile vanished rapidly. “...Why?”

“This was so...and you’re so...but I...this can’t happen. It didn’t happen. Please. Just...don’t say a word to anyone. You can’t tell my brother. You can’t. Please.” Pearl spewed in a fluster before hurrying downstairs and out of sight.

Jesper left a deflated Mal to get dressed and returned to the others, who had all clearly watched Pearl rush downstairs and leave.

“Was that...?” Nina asked.

“Yep.” Jesper nodded.

“And were they...?”

“Yep.”

“Blimey.”

“She looked terrified running out of here.” Matthias noted.

“She was panicking about anyone finding out, especially her brother.” Jesper said. “Not that it’s really his business, is it?”

“Her brother specifically?” Kaz pressed.

“She was quite adamant, yeah.”

“She only warned Mal away from the hills when her brother was out of sight. He doesn’t believe in the wild theories. Maybe he’s just super judgy? I could see that.” Nina said.

“Or she’s afraid of him.” Wylan suggested. I know what it’s like to fear someone; I saw it all over her face.

“Why would she be scared of her own brother?” Matthias asked.

“Because he’s not who he says he is.” Kaz said. “I needed more evidence, but this could tip the scale. I think Jack Stapleton’s behind all of this.”

“Jack?” Mal said, adjusting his shirt as he appeared before them. “Why? He’s been pretty welcoming.”

“He did warn you away from Pearl, though.” Jesper recalled. “Possessive, perhaps?”

“Why did you start suspecting him?” Inej asked Kaz.

“When I was pretending to be a journalist, I went to speak to the Stapletons. His scent stood out as unusual at the time, but it wasn’t until I recognised it again later that I realised he was keeping secrets.” Kaz explained.

“Recognised it where?”

“On Laura Frankland. It’s the smell of her perfume.”

“Jack and Laura are seeing each other? There must be something in the water around here.” Nina said.

“Seeing each other in secret; Jack called himself a bachelor when I spoke to him, and Frankland was under the impression Laura wasn’t seeing anyone. But why in secret?” Kaz wondered.

“You said you thought Laura was lying about why she didn’t show up for her meeting with Charles.” Inej remembered.

“The timing makes perfect sense now; it lined up with when she’d be able to sneak out and meet with Jack. If Jack is a man who has no reason to hide his romantic entanglements but chooses to do so, and scares his sister...is it a stretch to think he saw an opportunity and convinced her to stay with him instead of meeting with Charles, allowing him to be left at the hound’s mercy?” Kaz speculated. “It isn’t disproved by anything yet.”

“But why would he want Charles dead and target Mal next? What would he have against the Morozovas?” Matthias said.

“We need a motive, I agree.” Kaz said. “If there’s a link to be found, we’ll find it. He’s been here for what, two years? Moved into the closest property to the Morozova mansion that he could. Plenty of nice properties in the village, but he chose there. Coincidence? Did he learn something later on that he didn’t like? Do the Stapletons have a history with the Morozovas that we don’t know about?”

Jesper had a feeling in his gut. He’d written it off as still feeling shaken by his and Inej’s ordeal with the hound, but as the case intensified it bubbled more and more inside of him, ready to boil over. Kaz had often lectured him about which instincts to immediately follow and which to let simmer depending on what a case required. This one had been simmering, and the discussion about Jack Stapleton was intensifying it. Why? What am I missing? What have I noticed? Why is a potential link between Jack and the Morozovas making me feel like this?

Kaz’s voice echoed in Jesper’s head. “What have you overlooked? What did you write off or explain away that now has a more likely explanation? Follow that feeling through. Dig deep. Remember.”

The answer came to him in a monumental wave of realisation. “Saints...he’s a Morozova.”

“What?” Mal exclaimed.

“The portrait of Ilya Morozova in the library...I remember thinking he looked familiar. Look past the beard and Jack’s the spitting image of him.” Jesper said.

“Did Ilya have any children?” Kaz asked.

“He was cast out of the family, so he could have done without anyone knowing.” Nina answered.

“Sorry, are you suggesting that Jack could be my cousin?” Mal said in bewilderment. “He’d have just as much of a claim on Uncle Charles’ estate as I do.”

“And there’s a basic motive; remove any heirs to the Morozova estate until he’s the only one left. It would have to go deeper than that if he’s hidden his heritage like this and twisted the fable of the hound for his own gain. Why not just come forward with the truth?” Kaz wondered.

“What about Pearl?” Mal asked. “If she’s...if we’re...”

“Let’s not panic just yet. A well-supported theory is still just a theory.” Wylan said reassuringly.

“So how do we prove it?” Inej asked.

“I thought we wouldn’t need a trap after all, but it’s our best chance.” Kaz said, turning to Mal. “Do you have any strong feelings about being used as bait?”

“What a question...” Matthias said under his breath.

“...Do you really think Jack is behind this?” Mal asked.

Kaz felt it in his gut. “I do.”

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Mal.” Jesper said.

Mal considered for a moment. “...If this is the best chance we have of ending this, we need to take it. What do we do?”

Kaz smirked. “Give him exactly what he wants.”

...

Wylan was terrified of messing this up.

It had been a whirlwind of a day. Just a few hours ago, they were planning and scheming. Now, here he was in the belly of the beast – having dinner at Stapleton Manor. He sat at the middle of the long dining table that filled an entire room, with Mal and Jack sat at either end eating in silence. How has it come to this?

He’d been understanding, if a little insulted, when Kaz suggested he be the one to accompany Mal to visit the Stapletons and set the trap. “Jack hasn’t spent much time with you,” Kaz had reasoned, “and there’s no way he’d see you as a threat.”

And so he’d gone to the manor to tell Jack the excellent news; the Crows had ruled out any suspicious circumstances surrounding Sir Charles’ death, and were busy packing to return home the following morning. With his concerns eased by this development, Mal was to happily remain in Maroch Glen as a proud Morozova.

As they hoped – aided perhaps by the mention that they were unable to host a celebratory dinner at the mansion out of respect for Mrs Barrymore’s loss – Jack insisted they join him for a meal and some drinks to toast to the good news. Whatever keeps him in our sights while the others get ready, Wylan told himself as they’d sat down.

“...Where’s Pearl this evening?” Mal spoke up. Wylan could tell he’d been desperate to know since they arrived.

“She’s quite unwell, I’m afraid. You saw how she was the other day. She’s resting in her room.” Jack said, his gaze steadily upon Mal for a short while before turning to Wylan with a charming smile. “She’ll be disappointed she wasn’t able to say goodbye.”

“These things happen.” Wylan said, glancing at Mal. He looked nervous. Wylan was nervous too. Has he done something to her?

“You’ll be very happy here, Malyen. Maroch Glen is where you belong.” Jack said, raising his glass. “To new beginnings, and to dear old Charles.”

Wylan wasted no time after he’d finished eating, taking a glance outside and seeing it was beginning to get dark. “I should be getting back. We’ll be needing an early night to prepare for the journey. Fingers crossed it only takes a couple of days. Thank you for dinner, Mr Stapleton, it was lovely.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr Hendriks.” Jack nodded.

Wylan looked at Mal, who had purposefully taken his time with his food. “I can wait until you’re finished, if you like? The others will want to say goodbye.”

“No, I’ll be fine. Nothing to be afraid of now, is there?” Mal smiled, pretending to be more intoxicated than he actually was. “I’ll see you all off in the morning. I can get back to the mansion on my own. I might even brave a detour through the hills first. Will be nice to finally see the bloody things. As long as I don’t slip and fall like that Arken bloke, I’ll be fine.”

“...If you’re sure?” Wylan said. You’re a braver man than I am, risking your life like this.

“Of course I am! I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mal said, downing his glass of wine. “This stuff is fantastic. Is it locally made?”

“It is, yes.” Jack said, standing up. “I’ll show you out, Mr Hendriks.”

Wylan walked anxiously to the door with Jack at his side. “Make sure he gets home okay, won’t you? Based on how quickly the wine has gone to his head, I don’t expect we’ll actually be seeing him in the morning.”

“Perhaps not.” Jack laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”

They shook hands and parted ways. Wylan clung tightly to his coat as he faced the bitter winds and hurried down the path. He hoped he’d bought the others enough time to position themselves across the hills, prepared to stare death in the face if they had to. In retrospect, I should probably be thanking Kaz, Wylan thought. This is the easy job.

...

Inej and Nina were laying amongst the grass, watching and waiting. Wylan should have made an excuse to leave Stapleton Manor a while ago, and hopefully Mal should be braving the weather – well, potentially more than just the weather – and appear before them at any moment.

“We’ll be there watching your back, I promise.” Nina had said to Mal before they’d set out. She had no intention of breaking that promise.

She was glad to have accompanied Inej for this; if the hound were to show up, she didn’t want Inej to go through it alone. She was putting on a brave face, but Nina could tell Inej’s nerves were still shaken from her encounter the other night. Matthias had offered to be paired with Jesper, meaning he wasn’t on his own either. Brekker can look after himself. He always does.

“If we’re wrong about Jack Stapleton, this is going to be pretty embarrassing.” Nina said inbetween loud gusts of wind.

“If we’re wrong, there’s no harm done. But Kaz seems pretty sure.” Inej said.

“Normally that would be enough for me, but I can’t say I’ve been too fond of many of Brekker’s calls on this case.”

“You and me both.”

“He must’ve really screwed up if you’re not willing to forgive and forget so easily.”

“...Meaning?”

As Nina went to reply, a figure appeared in the distance. Mal was taking tentative steps, checking his surroundings intently as he went. Inej got to her feet and, maintaining her distance and keeping low, moved to follow. Nina crept behind her, pushing through the strong breeze to stay upright. If she was blown off her feet and rolled down the hill straight into the hound’s jaws, she was going to be furious.

It quickly became difficult to keep Mal in their sights as it got darker and darker, but they forced themselves forward and hoped they were still close.

“Inej! Can you see him?”

“I think so!”

Nina found herself feeling reassured for all of two seconds before the cry of a hound cut through the air. Movement in the corner of her eye pulled her attention, and all the breath was expelled from her lungs when a rabid, glowing creature emerged from the top of the hill opposite her. It growled and leapt into a run.

She couldn’t see Mal, but she heard him scream. Even through the harsh winds, she could hear the sheer force in which his feet slammed into the mud as he broke into a run. She saw something glint in the moonlight from in front of her, and was shocked to see Inej had produced a knife from somewhere on her person.

“Where did you get that?” She asked.

“The kitchen at the mansion.” Inej answered. “Jesper took the Barrymores’ pistol, but I wanted to be armed too.”

“You’ve never scared or impressed me more.” Nina said.

“Or as in both scared and impressed, or you haven’t decided which?”

“I’ll let you know.” Nina said, and they ran as fast as they could.

...

Jesper and Matthias heard Mal’s screams for help long before they got a glimpse of him. It seemed all their assumptions were correct; Jack was led to believe Mal was going to be alone in the hills, and the hound had been released.

It was at times like these Matthias missed his police-issued weapon. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Jesper with the gun he’d asked the Barrymores for, he just...wouldn’t trust Jesper with any weapon.

“MAL!” He bellowed into the night. To reassure? To distract the hound? He wasn’t really sure, but he didn’t feel quite so terrified now he’d done it.

“Can you see him?” Jesper asked, looking around frantically.

“No...” Matthias panted. “...Only that.”

A glowing creature came into view, racing through the grass and barking ferociously. Part of Matthias still couldn’t accept the hound was real until that moment. It was no wonder Sir Charles was scared to death; this monstrous being betrayed the very idea of the light in the darkness. Instead of hope, it symbolised death and destruction.

They heard another cry as Mal tripped and slammed onto the ground. “Help! Someone!”

Jesper knew there was no other option than to follow his instincts. He followed Mal’s voice and ran, ignoring whatever Matthias called after him. No one else dies. No one. He had let the hound have a hold on him, and he refused to let its grip tighten. No one has a hold on Jesper Fahey unless he allowed it.

The hound howled again as it raced down the path, and Jesper knew he had moments before it reached Mal. It was time for action. It was time to take a risk. As luck would have it, Jesper thought, that’s what I do best. The glow of the hound had become an omen of death, the only thing its victims would see in their final moments.

I see you, Jesper thought. He didn’t see an omen, not this time. Just a target.

He leaped onto the path and fired two clean shots. A wail of agony echoed through the hills, and then silence. The hound dropped dead, never to haunt Maroch Glen again.

Jesper heard Matthias helping Mal to his feet nearby as he made a slow approach towards the hound. He had to be sure they hadn’t all gone mad. He had to be sure it was real. He looked down upon it, the smell of its fresh blood in the air, and couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for it. It looks so small up close. It couldn’t have been much larger than an average dog of its breed, and patches of it did indeed appear to glow.

Kaz appeared at his side, having heard the gunshots from his position in the hills, and bent down to inspect the hound’s corpse. He sniffed it and ran a gloved hand along its fur. “...Phosphorus. Of course.”

“What?” Jesper asked, too full of adrenaline to have been spooked by Kaz’s sudden arrival.

“It’s been coated in phosphorus. It glows when exposed to oxygen. Jack wanted to make it appear demonic like it was in the legend.” Kaz revealed. “...Good shot, by the way.”

Jesper didn’t have any desire to say thank you. “It was just doing what it was trained to do. It wasn’t the poor thing’s fault.”

“You did what needed to be done.”

Matthias and Mal joined them, followed quickly by Inej and Nina.

“You saved my life.” Mal said, squeezing Jesper’s shoulder appreciatively.

“Don’t mention it.” Jesper said. As much as he usually loved praise, it didn’t feel appropriate this time. The hound had been used for evil purposes. This wasn’t a victory. Not yet. “We need to get back to Stapleton Manor.”

...

The Manor seemed abandoned when they arrived, and Kaz didn’t hesitate to pick the lock on the front door and throw it open.

Mal rushed in. “Pearl? Are you here?!”

A muffled voice came from upstairs, and everyone hurried to find its source. After kicking open a few doors, they came to the master bedroom, and it was there that they were stunned by the sight of a terrified Pearl, bound and gagged to one of the bedposts. Inej cut her free and helped her to her feet.

“...Did you...is he...?” Pearl sighed and sat down on the bed. Mal was at her side with his arm around her in an instant.

“It’s okay.” He whispered comfortingly.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...I...I tried to stop him.” Pearl slowly regained her composure.

“Your brother was behind this, wasn’t he?” Kaz pressed.

Pearl pushed through her tears. “...Yes. But he’s not my brother. His real name is Aleksander Morozova, son of Ilya. He invented the Stapletons and forced me to play the part of his doting sister.”

“Who are you really?” Inej asked, holding back her internal anger. Another innocent woman used as a pawn in a someone’s sick game.

“My name is Alina. Alina Starkov.” She spoke proudly, and tears filled her eyes as she was finally able to say her true name again. “Aleksander...is my husband.”

“...Oh.” Mal reeled.

Jesper shot him an inquisitive look. “Is that better or worse than her being your cousin?”

“Mal, I’m sorry I lied to you. To all of you. He threatened to burn down the orphanage I grew up in if I told anyone the truth.” Alina explained. “When I came of age I started working there instead of leaving; I had nowhere else to go. Aleksander showed up and courted me for a few weeks, but now I know he was just looking for someone to suit his cause. When he proposed and promised me a full and happy life, I thought I was the luckiest woman on the planet. It was only when we were married and sailed away to Maroch Glen that the monster inside revealed himself.”

“What was he planning?” Matthias asked.

“Aleksander’s father brought him up on wicked tales about the Morozova family; how what was rightfully theirs was snatched from them. Ilya’s dying wish was for his son to seek revenge and claim the Morozova fortune for himself. They had plenty of money, but that wasn’t enough. They wanted to be the last ones standing.” Alina revealed. “He wanted to come to Maroch Glen in the guise of a trustworthy and charming member of the community, someone who could grow close to the locals. Aleksander felt having a sister would be a better and purer way to promote his false image of family values, so he set out to find and trap a wife to pretend for him. Someone who could cover for him at every turn. Provide him with any alibi he needed. He found me.”

Mal reached for Alina’s hand and squeezed it.

“So you came to Maroch Glen and purchased what became Stapleton Manor.” Nina assumed.

Alina nodded. “He’d paid for our new identities to be forged, and we’ve had to lie to all these poor people for two years. He wanted to get close to Sir Charles, and once he did was delighted to hear Roger had already died. ‘Saves me the trouble’, he said. I’m s-sorry, Mal.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” Mal smiled sympathetically.

“When did the hound come into play?” Wylan wondered.

“Charles told Aleksander all about the Morozova curse over dinner one evening, and that was when his plan started forming. He knew Charles’ health was waning, and wanted to take advantage of that while also removing the idea of murder from anyone’s suspicions. Making the legend of the hound a reality was the perfect cover. He smuggled the hound from overseas and kept it chained in one of the caves in the hills. He fed it and trained it, but I never saw it for myself.” Alina said. “I’m sorry...he didn’t tell me much more. He didn’t trust me enough to reveal everything.”

“Why wait two whole years to strike? And how was he able to sneak out and release the hound so quickly? It was on Mal’s scent within five or ten minutes.” Kaz questioned.

“I don’t know.” Alina sighed. “I don’t know how he knew Charles would be ready and waiting that night, but I knew when I heard the news the next morning that he was behind it.”

“He was friendly with Charles; plenty of chances to snatch something from the mansion to teach the hound his scent.” Kaz nodded. “He thought that was it, didn’t he? With no living Morozovas left, he was ready to let things blow over before coming forward as an heir.”

“He’d have acted sooner, but he was still deciding whether to disguise himself all over again or reveal his identity to everyone, no longer needing to be liked or trusted.” Alina said.

Nina folded her arms. “But then he discovered there was another heir. Doctor Mortimer found Mal.”

“He knew Mortimer was consulting with you, so dragged me to Ketterdam ahead of her. We waited at the train station for her and Mal to arrive, and spent the day tracking Mal from a carriage to find out where he was staying. I distracted the receptionist at the hotel while Aleksander slipped past and broke into Mal’s room as he slept to steal something with his scent.” Alina explained. “I couldn’t let another innocent man die now I had an opportunity to stop it, but all I had time to do was leave an anonymous message for Mal warning him to stay away. It wasn’t enough. You all came to the Glen anyway.”

“I bet he wasn’t happy he couldn’t get an opportunity to strike with us around.” Jesper grinned.

“Not at all. Before I knew it was the convict who had been killed, I was terrified Aleksander had gotten the chance he craved. I ran all the way to the inn to see if Mal was okay.” Alina said, squeezing Mal’s hand in return.

“I think we all know what happened next...” Nina smirked.

“When I returned home, Aleksander could see my guilt. I told him the truth; I had feelings for Mal and wouldn’t let him get hurt. I tried to escape, but he must have grabbed something and hit me over the head. When I woke up, I was bound in here. I heard you having dinner with him downstairs, but I knew if I made a sound he’d do something terrible.” Alina recalled.

“He didn’t count on anyone putting the pieces together and trapping him in return.” Kaz said. “...He had no right to judge you for your actions. We have reason to believe he’s been rendezvousing with Laura Frankland, and manipulated her into arranging the meeting with Charles that led to his death.”

“Just when I think I couldn’t hate him more, he drags another innocent person into this.” Alina shook her head. “...Where is he?”

“On the run, I expect. The hound is dead. He’s out of tricks.”

“With any luck, he’s fallen into a mire and drowned.” Nina stated.

“You’re free, Alina.” Mal said, rubbing her back soothingly. “Also a lovely name, by the way.”

Alina laughed, and everyone could practically see the weight being lifted from her shoulders. She burst into tears and sobbed into Mal’s shoulder.

“What now? Should we go looking for Aleksander?” Inej asked, turning to the others and letting Mal and Alina have some privacy.

“He could be anywhere by now.” Matthias shrugged.

“Still worth a look, I’d say. We can’t let the bastard get away with this.” Jesper said.

“Jesper, look around for him. Nina, go and get the police. Helvar, return the gun Jesper borrowed from the Barrymores and fill them in. Wylan, tell Doctor Mortimer what’s happened. Inej, pay Laura Frankland another visit and see if you can get anything new out of her. I’ll see if this place is hiding any more secrets.” Kaz ordered, and everyone hastily went to carry out their tasks.

...

The rest of the mystery was cleared up over the next few days. After some more lockpicking, Kaz discovered a cellar that Alina revealed she wasn’t allowed to enter. When Kaz found a long, thin tunnel connecting the cellar to one of the caves in the hills, several things clicked into place.

Aleksander had a quick and direct route to where he kept his hound without fear of being spotted. It was no wonder he’d taken so long to carry out Sir Charles’ murder; the construction of the tunnel itself must have taken several years, and he’d had to wait until it was completed to put his plan into action. Additionally, the reason the Stapletons didn’t have their own staff despite their large home went beyond concealing their identities with more ease, but because it ensured no one would discover what Aleksander was constructing under the manor.

When Laura Frankland was told Jack’s ‘sister’ was actually his wife, she became more than willing to reveal everything and suffer the consequences. She explained they had been seeing each other for several months, and that Jack had convinced her keeping their romance under wraps was more exciting. He’d promised her they would eventually marry, and on one of their recent late-night meetings he, under the pretence of caring about her dreams, pushed her to ask Sir Charles for help funding her salon business.

Once the meeting was arranged, he told her he’d found the money himself and charmed her into staying with him instead of going to the rendezvous. When Charles was found dead the next morning, she swallowed her guilt over the seemingly tragic accident for her and her lover’s sakes, but couldn’t face anyone out of shame.

While it at first appeared that Aleksander Morozova had gotten away with his crimes, his body was found two days after he was last seen, floating face down in the mire with a gunshot wound to the chest. Despite some reluctance from the police, Kaz was allowed a few moments to inspect the body, but aside from deducing that he’d been shot at point blank range, couldn’t work out anything more about what had happened.

That’s what he told everyone, anyway.

He decided to keep to himself that from the angle of the shot, Aleksander’s killer was significantly shorter than he was, and that the bullet he’d managed to find in some nearby mud matched the gun Jesper had borrowed from the Barrymores. As far as Kaz was concerned, justice had been done. No one else needed to know Eliza had been able to track Aleksander down and avenge her brother’s needless death.

With their presence in Maroch Glen no longer required, the Crows packed their bags and loaded them onto a carriage to go back to the train station and begin their long journey home. Mal, Alina and Doctor Mortimer all came to see them off.

“I can’t thank you all enough for everything you’ve done.” Mortimer smiled. “I’m sorry I threw you into something so dangerous.”

“Don’t worry about it! Danger is my middle name.” Jesper said. “It’s actually Llewellyn, but you get the idea.”

“There’s plenty of spare rooms at the mansion if any of you ever want to visit.” Mal beamed.

“You’re all welcome anytime.” Alina nodded, joy on her face and in her heart for the first time in years as she snuggled into Mal’s side.

“How does it feel, Mal? To truly be the last Morozova?” Wylan asked.

“I’ll be sticking with Oretsev, actually. I think the Morozova name needs resting.” Mal said. “Besides, I wouldn’t want that name hanging over Alina if we ever...you know...not that we’re anywhere near there yet, and if you didn’t want to I’d totally-”

“-I think marriage can wait a year...or five.” Alina blushed. After what Aleksander had put her through, no one could blame her for wanting to finally live her life as she chose to.

“I’d been trying to protect the Morozova family name and ensure we did what was best for it. I only wish it didn’t take something so extreme – and so awful – to see what is best is that we let it go.” Mortimer concluded.

“Give our best to the Barrymores.” Inej said. “And extend our condolences once again.”

“I will. They said to say thank you for helping them at their lowest.” Mal said. Deciding everyone needed a fresh start, he’d invited John and Eliza to continue in their positions at the mansion, an offer they both gratefully accepted.

“And if you bump into the girl at the inn, tell her I’m sorry for...well, whatever I said. Or did. Or both.” Jesper winced.

“From what I gather, you called her the wrong name.” Alina smirked. “Twice.”

Jesper sighed. “Really? Unfortunate, but I’m not sure that justifies-”

“-And two different names. You didn’t even notice.”

“...Ah. Fair enough.” Jesper nodded.

“This has proven to be an extremely interesting case. I appreciate you involving us in it.” Kaz said. “Time to go.”

He climbed into the carriage without another word, and the rest of the Crows bid their farewells before joining him. As they rode out of the village, the sun began to shine over Maroch Glen.

...

It was a week later when Matthias met with Joran and Nadia at a local pub and told them the full story of Maroch Glen and the Morozova hound, having wanted to make an effort to keep in touch with his former colleagues. When he’d finished, the pair sat in silence for a few moments.

“A drunken idiot threw up on me this week, and I thought that was a tough day at work.” Nadia sighed.

“I could never be a Crow. You lot are completely mad.” Joran said. “If I went through all that, I’d have resigned on the spot.”

“You get scarily used to it.” Matthias admitted. He thought back to all those months ago, meeting the Crows on his first day as a detective. His irritation shifted to admiration within hours, and a few weeks later he’d joined them. So much has changed.

“I selfishly wish you’d taken longer to see it, but it’s good you found your place with them. You seem quite content.” Nadia observed.

“...I suppose I am.” Matthias said. He’d left Fjerda a broken and shamed man, but becoming a Crow had helped him heal without even realising it. Despite Ketterdam being the dreary, dangerous city it was, it had started to feel like home. I haven’t had a home in a long time. Or friends. He pictured Nina shooting him an amused smirk. Or...maybe more.

“Someone should write all this hound stuff down. That’s a successful novel in the making if ever I heard one.” Joran said.

“There’s plenty of cases you Crows solve that would make for good reading.” Nadia noted. “You should get on that, Helvar.”

“Me? I don’t think so.” Matthias shook his head. He dabbled in writing poetry from time to time – not that he’d ever admit that to anyone – but nothing as extreme as what the others were suggesting.

“I think you’d be good at it, that’s all. You’re a perfect blend of the heart and the head.” Nadia said.

“Could be a nice way of spending an evening every now and then. Writing cases out like that might even help you make sense of them if you needed to.” Joran added.

“They’re not fictional stories, you know. Mal and Alina are building a life together. The Barrymores are grieving. People did die. I wouldn’t want to cheapen what happened to the people we help.” Matthias argued.

“Then don’t.” Nadia shrugged. “Honour them. Make them soar.”

Her words stayed with Matthias throughout the rest of the conversation and the journey back to his apartment. Honour. One of the things he believed in wholeheartedly.

He walked gingerly over to the desk he’d assembled in the corner of the room, upon which sat a typewriter. He’d originally purchased it in case he wanted to do any paperwork from home, but now it was calling to him for another purpose entirely. Do I even want to try?

Reliving the growing list of terrible crimes and innocent victims didn’t feel that appealing, he had to admit, and yet he found himself thinking of what else he’d be reliving too. Acceptance. Friendship. Belonging. It felt like a way of spending some extra time with his colleagues. With Nina.

Matthias began to type, and a title formed on the page almost instinctively: The Casebook of the Crows. He wrote long into the night.