The Verge Of An Empire

5

If it were not for the signal tape and the constables posted at the gate to the park area, no one would have realized that something had happened in the de Moranzhakov mansion, may the All-Father, in whom they so believed, accept them. Without fuss or interference, I once again examined everything, the nearest district, the garden and the house itself. The bodies have already been removed. Several forensic mages continued to rummage through the walls and probe the astral plane with their artifacts, trying to pick up traces of murderous sorcery. I inquired if there were any results, received a negative answer and assured me that I would not interfere with their work in any way.

- Like this. Reports state that the food did not contain any poisons.

“As you expected, master.

“Magicians don't see any residual traces.

“That's strange, master.

“No trace of poison in the air. I even insisted that they check the items in the house. They say that there are poisons that kill not when consumed, but when they come into contact with the skin. But also nothing. However, if it were a powerful alchemical poison that decays shortly after the death of the victim, or cobra poison, which is almost impossible to detect ... No, it does not. A blood test would reveal neither, but the effects of exposure would be reflected in the bodies of those killed. I'm running out of hypotheses.

“You are doing your best, master.

“Even if I peel off my skin and gouge out my eyes without benefit to the investigation, it will mean absolutely nothing. The Emperor wants results. Sooner or later, the cover-up of de Moranjac's death will no longer be possible, I have solid publications in my fist, but small newspapers will sell their souls for the chance to be the first to cover such an incident. Sebastian?

The maid stopped at the stairs to the second floor.

- Sebastian?

"Master, let's go and have a look." She pointed to the right.

- Boiler room? However, we have covered everything else.

Sebastina's intuition must be trusted. I went to a nondescript door, behind which a staircase led down to the basement. Like all modern noble houses, this mansion has one relatively new invention of the Chinops called the "central heating system". Pipes held in the walls of the house and filled with water fit bulky composite batteries. The water is heated by a coal fired boiler. And here he is. A kind of colossus, has long been extinguished and cooled down. It was not difficult to search this room, it has been empty for some time. Apart from a long box, at the bottom of which there was still some coal left, a spade for throwing fuel into the furnace, and the boiler itself, there was nothing. I examined everything again, even looked under the boiler - nothing. At my questioning look, Sebastina shrugged guiltily. A search of the house turned up nothing. No signs of breaking, all windows are intact, locks without scratches. No evidence of the presence of a thief or a murderer.

“Maybe we should check out the attic.

– Is he here?

“Certainly, master.

- Is it? I didn't see the stairs.

- She is here.

The maid went out into the corridor on the fourth floor, between the bedroom of the de Moranjaks and the children's room of the twins. She pulled on an inconspicuous ring under the wall candlestick, and part of the ceiling dropped. A folding ladder extended to the floor.

- It seems that the valiant servants of the law did not notice. As we are. There is nothing to take from them, but to me, a mug, such miscalculations are unforgivable. No, we must go to the block, we must rid the state of idiots. I'll start with myself...

Sebastina got up first.

- Clean.

The attic is quite ordinary. I noticed a long time ago that attics look like twin brothers, that of the rich, that of the poor. There is dirt and dust everywhere, only the attics of the poor are empty, like their wallets, and the attics of the rich are littered with junk, I beg your pardon, rarities. No one has walked here for a long time, the layer of dust on objects and the floor is even. Unless there is no cobweb under the ceiling. It's unusual. What useless things you don't start to notice while investigating. But this is interesting! The attic window is ajar by a finger, there are thick scratches on the bottom of the frame. Traces of powerful claws.

“We are on the trail, master.

- Bad track.

“Six furrows, not ten. These are not lups claws at least.

“I know,” I replied, looking at them. – But for many Masters of the Voice [ Lord of the Voice is one of the nicknames of the tencris, given by virtue of their possession of the Voices of the Moon.] The Voice consists precisely in the fact that they can take the form of various monsters. Take Uncle Cryptus. But this is me, for the sake of paranoia. You propose to go through those, introduce yourself, present your insignia and demand to show your Voice in order to count the claws? The Tencris can't stand me, but communication with them gives me heartburn.

“I didn't offer anything like that.

"Let's go, there's nothing else to look for."

Before leaving the mansion, I drew the attention of the magicians to the attic.

It's snowing outside. The flakes swirl beautifully, trying to join the growing snowdrifts. But there are no snowdrifts, because the Imperial Gardens are not Klopovnik or Koposhilka, here city services wage a holy war with mud and precipitation on the streets all year round, without rest and mercy. Already getting into the carriage, I noticed the constables ordering the collier to drive on.

“Wait a minute, my dear, I am now!” I shouted to the coachman and went towards them. “Excuse me, what is your name?”

The constables stepped back at the sight of me, not wanting to interfere. The old man on the box of a covered cart tore off his gray-haired head a cap soaked in coal dust, pressed it to his chest and began to tremble. By itself, no one likes the attention of the servants of Scoalt Yard, and here also Mr. Tencris rolled up. Wearily, I adjusted my red-tinted mole goggles, the only ones in all of Starkrar. A few relatives know that this is how I mask the color of my eyes. Behind red glasses, any bright eyes appear red. And those who don't know think I'm an extravagant thane who has nowhere to spend money except on stupid accessories. Silver spectacles with red lenses, a frilly pocket watch, an expensive revolver that fires complicated bullets filled with black mercury. Strange dance, you will not say anything. Fortunately, only the closest people know about the draculina servant.

"So what's your name anyway, my dear?"

“John Gun, my thane… E… I am a collier, my thane!”

- I see. John, did you bring coal to the de Moranchacs?

“I… I didn’t do anything, my thane!” I swear!

Fear, confusion, everything is vague. No anger, no shame. Apparently, he does not even know what happened and what kind of grief the family of the public prosecutor visited.

“I believe you, John. I just want to ask you when was the last time you delivered coal to this house.

“So… this… Last week, my thane.

It is not strange that the coal is over ... Yes, it is a burr. My head works by itself, I see everything, hear everything and remember absolutely everything. But sometimes consciousness does not keep pace with the unconscious. If something bothers me for no reason, I call it a burr. It only remains for me to recall and compare the facts that I have at my disposal, and tear off the burr in order to understand what exactly and for what reason hurts me so much. Boiler room, large box of coal, coal miner John Gun. Burr.

- I got sick. Uh… Only yesterday I was able to get on my feet and immediately go to work. Not all the same Heinrich bother.

- Heinrich? And who is Heinrich?

- My daughter's husband, my thane. He worked for me. So, on the second day of the week, gentlemen de Moranzhak brought coal, yes! It is not good to leave noble gentlemen in the cold in such and such weather.

The De Moranjaks, according to my estimates, died on this very day, the second from the beginning of the week. And the huge box of coal was emptied instantly, and the whole family died on the same day.

- Show me the product.

The cart was filled with wooden boxes full of coal. Ordinary large square boxes. Not rectangular, like a roughly knocked together coffin, but square. No, it was not a piece of coal that was brought to the interrogator that day, not a piece of coal at all.

- All right, John, good work, no more pain.

The cart creaked along the stone floor. I called one of the constables.

- Walk around the neighbors, interrogate the servants, find out where he lives. As soon as you know, pass the information to my department immediately. “I intended to put the coal miner and his whole family under surveillance immediately.

Do you think that this...

"It's none of your business to think what I think, Constable!" Follow orders!

- I obey, my thane!

Once again I was prevented from leaving Magnolia Street. Inspector Aberlein jumped out of the carriage, wrapped in a cloud of anxiety and curiosity.

"Thane el'Moria!" Glory to the All-Father, I found you! At home they said that you went here! New leads?

- There is something. Disgusting, I muttered. – What are your successes?

‘It’s hard to explain, my thane. It's easier right away in Scoalt Yard!

Sebastina and I looked at each other.

- Based on what accusations?

- Oh, no, what are you! It's just that we have someone looking for you... Apparently... We think so... We haven't figured it out ourselves yet, but you should hurry.

“Sebastina, let the man go. Let's go to the treasury.