The Verge Of An Empire

1

Candlelight licked my face. I sleep lightly, and therefore I wake up from any rustle, not to mention the light. Carefully pretending that I was just tossing and turning in my sleep, I put my hand under the pillow and felt for the butt of the revolver.

- Master?

I let go of the weapon.

What do you want, Sebastina?

"I'm sorry I dared disturb your sleep." The crown needs you.

She loves pompous phrases. “The crown needs you” is nothing new. Sebastina has such a weakness, she loves to be proud of me, to stick out my significance in the eyes of the public in every possible way, so that everyone around can see what an important thane she serves.

“If someone was killed, then it can wait. The dead are in no hurry.

“You are right as always, master, but Inspector Aberlein is waiting for you in your office with a verbal imperial commission. I dared to offer him tea.

The fifth hour of the night, it is winter outside, the dawn is still very far away. Wrapped up in a dressing gown, I left the bedroom and followed Sebastina, who was carrying a table candlestick.

“Sit down, Inspector,” I said as I entered my office.

“My respects, Thane el'Moria. Sorry for such a late visit.

- To business.

- Yes. You are requested to report immediately to Magnolia Street Gardens.

“Hmm, to Monsieur de Moranjac?” He is the most important inhabitant of this, if you please, street, as far as I remember.

- Yes…

“If he's been robbed again, that's your business, Inspector, and he won't need my services.

“Mr. de Moranjak and his family…” The Scoalt Yard officer broke off, giving Sebastina a wary look that didn't escape me.

“I trust Sebastina as much as I trust myself.

- Yes, I'm sorry. Monsieur de Moranjac and his family will need nothing more, except, perhaps, a funeral ceremony. They are found dead at the dinner table. All servants are also dead. The Emperor wished you to immediately begin an investigation, the corresponding order will be approved by the Imperial Chancellery in the next few hours.

I was silent for a while, what I heard must be absorbed, otherwise I just can’t believe it! The Supreme Public Prosecutor and his entire family went to their Original Realm… or what kind of afterlife do people believe in? And the Emperor commands me...

“The word of the Emperor is law. Let me get myself together.

- Certainly.

Sebastina helped me get dressed.

- Cufflinks, master.

My father's cufflinks, old-fashioned, large, shield-shaped blackened silver. In each one is inserted a convex bright yellow amber. The only material memory of him that I always carry with me.

- Mirror.

Hmm, the proteins are bloodshot from chronic lack of sleep, but otherwise everything is as always. A man, a tenkris, I look older than my years (thanks to the military past), black hair, not cut short in fashion, white skin, without a mother-of-pearl tint (alas, there is no ancient blood in me), pupils are vertical, like all tenkris, the color is purple - from the father. He came from the Darkness after his mother, and the bad color of his eyes is his legacy to me, along with the sharp features of a face that is ugly by our standards. However, I've always been happy with everything.

I stroked my gray jacket out of habit, and accepted my overcoat and top hat. I did not forget to grab a cane and left the house. Sebastina followed me.

I rarely visit the Imperial Gardens, for I have nothing to do in this haven of pampered and jaded masters of life. Between them and me there is a kind of reverse symbiosis, so to speak. The nobility does not want to see me, and I do not want to be in her circles. That's why I live in Aldorn, a quiet, decent, but not so prestigious area.

The mansion de Moranzhakov, a four-story palace with figured columns, surrounded by a park, is located on Magnolia Street. The streets in the Imperial Gardens have a very arbitrary meaning, since the residence of every self-respecting aristocrat or high-ranking official is without fail surrounded by a large well-groomed park. In recent years, hedge labyrinths and trees trimmed in regular geometric shapes have become fashionable. Still, rational beings tend to mock nature. Usually neighbors go to visit each other in carriages.

The government carriage drove through the wrought-iron gate with the de Moranjakov family coat of arms and brought us to the front door. Having plunged into the pre-dawn chill of the night once more, we proceeded inside. Just in case, more out of whim than necessity, I pinned the rectangle of insignia, the badge of my supreme authority, onto the tie. I still like to feel the reaction of people when they understand who this tenkris is walking towards.

I moved into the refectory ahead of the inspector, indicating that I had been there before. Constables stand almost at every step, examining everything, checking, scribbling something in notebooks. Oh, gentlemen, if there was any benefit from your deliberate employment, I would now sleep peacefully in my bed!

De Moranjak loved punctuality and conservative orders in everything, so his family ate three times a day and always together. He categorically forbade feeding children outside this time and not at the common table. Dined together and died together - just a dream of a man obsessed with punctuality! Although it is doubtful that the deceased dreamed of something like that.

- Greetings, gentlemen. I touched the narrow brim of my top hat and nodded to all the assembled forensics at Scoalt Yard. - What do we have here? Family de Moranzhakov in full force? Toomes?

“Good night, Thane el'Moria. Nothing touched, waiting for you.

Arnold Toomes is one of the few really smart forensic and pathologists at Scoalt Yard, as well as a coroner. The man is extremely modest and calm, with a large and round bald head, a noticeable stoop, glasses with thick lenses and a protruding hooked nose. Behind the unprepossessing appearance lies a bright intellect, which is rare for most sons of the human race.

- I need an empty seat. I ask everyone to come out. Toomes and Inspector Aberlein, stay. Sebastian!

- The owner is working, please come out. She closed the doors behind the disgruntled group of experts, and I began.

Five bodies. Silvio de Moranjak, his wife Clara, their twin daughters Constance and Maria, and their youngest son Adolvin. Dead.

“Have the mages done their preliminary inspection yet?”

- Yes, tan. Toomes showed me the planchette. - This is very strange. First time in my practice.

“The fact that people die is not at all strange. It's strange when they die like the de Moranjacs - I skimmed through the notes - just stopped breathing.

The table was set, the family was having dinner, the food remained on the plates, Silvio lies face down in his second, in his cold hand a glass of unfinished wine, his wife leaned over the arm of the chair, the fork lies on the carpet under her arm, the twins leaned back in their chairs, holding hands on the armrests, and only the boy's chair is upside down, and he himself lies under the window near the wall opposite the door. I carefully examined all the bodies, as far as possible without disturbing them. The arrangement is as follows: the dining table is rectangular, the hall too, to the left of the table there are windows overlooking the garden, to the right there is a wall with a door, behind Silvio de Moranjak there is a fireplace, he sits at the head of the table, his daughters are on the left side, with his back to the windows, his wife is alone on right, with his back to the door, and Adolvin opposite his father. All but the boy died in their places. The children had an expression of extreme horror on their faces, but the parents, apparently, accepted their end with a certain philosophical calmness. I examined the stiff hands of their hands, looked into the face of the dead lady, into the glassy eyes of the boy, was not too lazy and tore the supreme public prosecutor from the plate. He went to the fireplace, poked the poker into the ashes, examined the clock.

Have you already taken food and drink samples?

“Of course, tan, I thought that this would not interfere with the investigation.

Thanks, Toomes. Inspector, I'd like to inspect the house, we'll be back here later.

We walked slowly through the first and second floors. The bodies of the servants were arranged very interestingly. Without a system, but in order. The cook lies in the kitchen, the butler is not far from the dining room, he never brought the tray with the tea set, he died in the middle of the corridor, the maid was found with a broom and a dustpan. It turned out that everyone in the house died, going about their daily business.

“No one ran, no one resisted, everyone just took it and went to another world. "Weird" is not the right word here. This is fucking weird! Well, at least the boy gives us hope.

“We are considering the gassing hypothesis. M. de Moranjac departed from old-fashioned views on certain points. In particular, he did not ignore the new proposal of the hinops - a gas pipeline, as well as a ventilation system.

– Really? Is there a smell?

“No, but we don't know when it happened,” Aberlein replied. “He could have been blown away.

“Your hypothesis cannot be criticized, Inspector,” I said, stopping by a beautiful grandfather clock. “These people all died at intervals of a few minutes. Gas does not spread so quickly, the cook had to be poisoned first, and even then not immediately. Quinops artificially give the gas a pungent odor so that when it leaks, it becomes noticeable to everyone. If it happened in the kitchen, because it was dinner time, his body could be found by a footman or a butler, figure out what was the matter, and take action. But that did not happen. In addition, the chef died without finishing the marvelous dessert. I know firsthand what Francois Gebry made cream and layered cakes, and the ashes of one such cake are currently cooling in the oven. It was turned off recently, most likely by one of the officers. And if so, then the gas, having got into the oven, would raise the house into the air. That did not happen. Actually a miracle that in all this time a fire did not start in the oven! Have you seen the faces of the butler and the chef? They are calm, like Madame de Moranjac's, but the maid and two footmen obviously died, experiencing real horror. No one makes grimaces of horror, choking on gas. A person simply loses consciousness from lack of air. In addition, it is winter outside, all the windows and the door are tightly closed so as not to let in the frost. There is nowhere for the gas to escape, everything had to stay here. At least the smell of decay is thick and rich here. Someone clear it already! All windows and doors are tightly shut to keep out the frost. There is nowhere for the gas to escape, everything had to stay here. At least the smell of decay is thick and rich here. Someone clear it already! All windows and doors are tightly shut to keep out the frost. There is nowhere for the gas to escape, everything had to stay here. At least the smell of decay is thick and rich here. Someone clear it already!

‘But the deaths are the same, Thane. They all just died. They stopped breathing, their hearts stopped, and they...

- The first postulate of a forensic scientist: the living do not die just like that! I snapped, although the young inspector himself understood this very well. - If a person did not die of old age, then something helped him. Disease, wound, poison. Toomes, all autopsy reports should be as detailed as possible, food and drink results, aura casts, and let the wizards hurry! They're not doing me a favor, they're serving the crown!

‘Yes, my thane, but that could be a problem. I thought here ... You see, since these unfortunate gentlemen of the noble class, their relatives may oppose ... You know how they treat mortuary workers. One name "Dead" no longer warms the soul. And Thane el'Rumar also has a grim reputation...

- They have no right to. There had been a massacre, a massacre of the family of a high-ranking official, and the Emperor had already made it clear that he was taking the matter under his personal control. This means that neither noble people, nor tenkrises, nor heads of noble houses can put spokes in the wheels of me and the investigation. If they start to interfere, refer to me.

- They will. There will be reports, then Supreme Interrogator.