Title: The Tower: Chapter Six, Part One
***
Chapter
Six, Part One
If they must leave the warmth of their shared bed behind, at least
it was for a good reason. Anton found sleeping with another man quite enjoyable
after so much time alone, but Camille wasn’t here to indulge Anton’s desire to
spend the day in bed. First and foremost, they had a killer to catch.
Lucardo Klein had a space in a laboratory on the bottom floor of
the building. Anton had been envious at first, before realizing that the
location was entirely strategic on the part of the professors. It kept Lucardo
close enough to keep an eye on, close enough for them to step in and put out
fires—literally, in a few cases—before they blazed out of control. Lucardo
resented that, from what Anton could tell, but not enough to demand things
changed. One thing a thaumaturge had to be was honest, at least with
themselves, over what they could and couldn’t accomplish with their powers.
Lucardo was ambitious and creative, but so lacking in control as to be
dangerous to himself, and sometimes to others. Anton could certainly see why he
was on the list.
“What’s this note about ‘miasma extension’ I read next to his
name?” Camille asked softly as they entered the tower, heading for Lucardo’s
laboratory.
“Ah, it’s what he wishes to make into his thesis, I believe,”
Anton replied. He was wearing his relatively youthful, redheaded glamour, and
was happy to be able to take full strides this time around. “Lucardo has ideas
about setting up—he calls them monuments,
I believe—to the dead. He’s trying to figure out a way to prolong a death miasma
indefinitely, with much greater visibility, even in the light of day.”
“Ambitious.”
“And fruitless, most likely, but it’s an interesting concept.”
“Why set up monuments to the way people have passed on?”
“As a warning to the living, I think.” Anton bit his lower lip for
a moment. “I don’t know much about Lucardo’s youth, but I believe his family
died violently. He was made a ward of the lord of his canton once his abilities
were discovered.”
“I suppose that explains his preference for pursuing thaumaturgy
that relates to the dead rather than the living.” Camille glanced at Anton.
“When we see him, let me do the speaking. Your glamour is undoubtedly good, but
does it also change your voice?”
Good point. “No.”
“Then we don’t want to risk him recognizing you that way, even if
it seems unlikely. You will simply be my assistant.”
“I understand.” Anton pointed at a door on the right, one that
looked like it’s frame had been recently replaced. “This is his space.”
“Thank you.” Camille stepped up to it and knocked briskly against
the heavy wood. “Mr. Klein.” He paused a moment. “Mr. Klein?”
“What?”
That single word was a mixture of such abject anger and
frustration that Anton drew back a little, startled. Camille went for the
doorknob, but it opened before he could open it himself. Lucardo appeared in
the doorway, wild-eyed, his frantic gaze fixed firmly on the floor. “Jesus God
in Heaven, where are all these little bastards coming from?” he snapped.
Anton looked down to see two rats flee into the hallway, running
along the wall. “Those are the fifth and sixth ones I’ve found in my lab in two days,” Lucardo continued, running
one hand through his thin brown hair. “Filthy little vermin.”
“Why not kill them?”
Lucardo looked at Camille as if he’d only just noticed him.
“What?”
“You seem to loathe rats, and they are only vermin, as you say. Why not kill them?”
He shuddered slightly. “Then I would have to touch them. Hideous things, I just wanted them gone, and revulsion
spells are easier to manage than death spells.” His dark eyes narrowed into
suspicious slits. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”
“You may call me Monsieur Lumière.”
Lucardo’s face unaccountably brightened. “A lumière? Here on
the emperor’s business, I take it?”
“Correct.”
“How can I be of assistance? Do you require a thaumaturge?”
“I already have one.” Camille indicated Anton, and the
searching glare that Lucardo gave him made the hair on the back of his neck
rise. “I prefer to speak privately, Mister Klein.”
The glare was leveled at Camille now. “And I prefer not to
be importuned while focused on my research, monsieur,
but clearly we don’t always get what we want.”
Camille smiled politely. “I do.” The stared at each other in
perfect silence for a long moment before Lucardo finally stepped to the side,
waving them inside with ill grace.
Anton had to keep himself from shivering as he stepped into
the lab. It was cold here, far colder than the hall outside, and the whole room
carried a heavy odor of burnt incense like a residue in the air, rubbing off on
skin and hair as they moved into it. There was only a single lit torch on the
wall, and no window to the outside.
“What is it?” Lucardo demanded once he’d shut the door
behind them. “If you don’t need my help, then why are you bothering me?”
“I’m here on the matter of a murder.”
“You already said you don’t want my help investigating
anything!”
Camille endured the shouting without a ruffle. “What I need
your help with, Mr. Klein, is determining whether or not you are the murderer.”
Well, that was…blunt. But it did the trick of shutting
Lucardo up for a moment. His anger seemed to diminish and his interest rise yet
again. “Am I to understand that these murders were committed with magic?”
“Magic was certainly involved.”
“And you came to me? Why?”
Camille shrugged. “My focus is on those thaumaturges with
profound power. Your name was mentioned.”
Lucardo preened. “Grable finally recognizing my worth, it
seems. I’ll take the compliment, monsieur, but I am no murderer. My goal in
life is to stop such heinous crimes, not perpetrate them.”
“You don’t deny that you have the ability, though.”
“Any fool who can throw a brick or drug a drink has the
ability to be a killer. And to kill with magic would require great skill and great preparation, as I’m sure your—”
the way he looked at Anton was scathing “—apprentice
here can tell you. It would be far easier to simply stab a man and have done. Less telling miasmas as well.” He brightened again. “How many people have been killed? May I inspect the bodies?”
“Several, and they are already buried, I’m afraid.”
Lucardo scowled. “Wasteful. Who investigated them with you,
this man? I do not recognize him. Where did you train, sirrah?”
Camille stepped between them. “I have no further questions
for the moment.”
“Why even bother if you’re not going to really grill me?”
Lucardo muttered. “You know who you should pursue next? Anton Seiber. He’s a
sly, conniving man, nowhere near as powerful as me, but he does have a certain…finesse.
Find him and see whether he can defend himself.”
“I shall.”
A moment later they were back in the hall, the door slammed
in their faces. Camille turned to Anton. “Interesting.”
“Interesting? He’s trying to lay the blame on me!” And so
clumsily, too. It was insulting. “Why didn’t
you question him harder?”
“Because I knew from the moment he opened the door that he
wasn’t the one we were looking for. If his reaction to a few rats in the same
room as himself is so virulent, he would never be able to use them to eat
another person alive. But it is novel that he seemed so keen to be accused. And
then to lay the blame in your direction, probably the one forensic thaumaturgy
student in the university who regularly bests Mr. Klein in his studies…”
Camille smiled slightly. “Is it merely jealousy, or a more nefarious motive?”
“Ask him!”
“Later. For now, we have another suspect to locate.”
Kudos to Anton for keeping his cool. I would have found a way to create the illusion of 20 rats in his lab just to give him a proper shake.
ReplyDeleteI completely agree! He's a jerk...too bad we're not completely done with him yet.
Delete