The Songstress Murders Read online

  The Songstress Murders

  An Inspector Redmane Mystery

  By J. B. Garner

  Copyright 2016 J. B. Garner

  Cover art illustrated by Reyn Ruch and David C. Key

  In memory of Jon, Shelley, Tabitha, and Jade, all those who have moved on in these past years but still have an eternal space in my heart.

  To Reyn and Dave, who gave me the encouragement and opportunity to write these words, as well as Mom, Christine, and David. They are my family, both born and found, and I love them dearly.

  Thanks as well to Lori, Barrett, Joel, Tina, and Jason for their support, insight, and patience as early readers.

  A final, special thanks to Michelle, who was the genesis of the idea to start a new series on my own terms.

  Table of Contents

  ACT I – A Most Pleasurable Way to Die

  13 Octavian 736 PC

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane

  14 Octavian 736 PC

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu, continued

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  The Songbook of the Silver Bard

  ACT II – The Lady, the Bard, and the Brothers

  15 Octavian 736 PC

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu, continued

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  The Songbook of the Silver Bard

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu, continued

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  16 Octavian 736 PC

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane

  The Songbook of the Silver Bard

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu, continued

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu, continued

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu, continued

  ACT III – Chained Hearts, Burning Blood

  17 Octavian 736 PC

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  The Songbook of the Silver Bard

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu, continued

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu, continued

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  The Songbook of the Silver Bard, continued

  18 Octavian 736 PC

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  ACT IV – A Requiem for Revenge

  19 Octavian 736 PC

  A Parchment found just inside Vela Redmane's loft

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu

  The Songbook of the Silver Bard

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  20 Octavian 736 PC

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane

  21 Octavian 736 PC

  The Notes of Lady Alysa Hsu

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane

  A Statement given by Lady Alysa Hsu

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, continued

  A Statement given by Lady Alysa Hsu, continued

  27 Octavian 736 PC

  The Journal of Inspector Vela Redmane

  ACT I – A Most Pleasurable Way to Die

  From The Formation of a New Age by Elan Corvyn, Ratiri historian:

  Pre-Collapse, the world was dominated by what we now call the Olden Folk, then known as Hyu-Man. The exact nature of the Collapse is unknown. What we do know is that it was fueled by research into previously forbidden forms of sorcery. The vast transmutative energies unleashed by the Collapse led to the creation of the modern Folk, mergers of Olden and non-sentient beasts of the land. The Aard came of canines, the Myan from felines, the Wass from the oceans, the Hive flew on insectile wings, the Winds cut from avian cloth, the Daj blind as their mole-kin, and the Ratiri scurry on rodent legs.

  From The Walled City: A Divine Prominence by the 87th Lord-High Mayor Testria:

  From some time shortly after the Collapse come the first written records of the existence of the Walled City. Common tales cite that the City was raised by the divine hand of Inam Wallmaker, the god of cities and the first Lord-High Mayor of the City. However, continued research leads us to believe that, while Inam did found the City, he did not do so with the wave of a divine hand. It is now considered historical fact that it was the act of raising the City from a simple trading outpost to the massive structure, extending hundreds of feet into the sky and spreading over the entire Great River delta, which led to Inam's ascension into Godhood.

  From the journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, 13 Octavian 736 PC:

  The Mermaid's Scale is renowned for two things: its hoppy brews and its vibrant nightlife. To my delight, the Scale was living up to its reputation that evening. I had a frothy mug in front of me, a sleek-furred Aard man whose flirtations had not gone unnoticed seated to my right, and a clear view of the swaying hips and multicolored scales of the Wass serving maid coming towards me. This night, my only free one after a week on-duty, was draped in endless possibilities. To better enhance those possibilities, I used a subtle gesture to loosen the lace of my blouse, exposing a bit more of my red-and-white-furred cleavage.

  The man, just out of boyhood most likely, was named Jaquabi and wasn't holding his beer well. “I've never shared a drink with a Watchwoman before,” he slurred, a grin spreading across his muzzle. “What's it like?”

  “Well, my handsome boy, I'm actually an inspector,” I corrected,” but it all ends up the same for us. Danger, intrigue, and the law, it's the life we lead in the service of the Walled City.” As I finished, I took up my mug and nodded for Jaquabi to do the same.

  He followed suit, though his thick fingers were unsteady. Unfortunately, if he was doing so badly with just beer, he likely wouldn't be able to keep up for the evening and I was not going to take advantage of such a blossoming flower.

  The barmaid, on the other hand, looked a bit worldlier, flashing a smirk on her wide lips as she settled a platter of grilled eels on the table. “Here you go, Inspector. Best eel in the entire Second Ward!”

  “I'll add it to the wonders of the Scale, my dear, and please, call me Vela.” I flashed my best smile. “Perhaps you could join us after your shift is over.”

  “Methinks it'll just be you. Your other hound-friend is about to fall out.” The fish Folk always have an underlying echo to their voice, something this fine prize of a girl showed off as she laughed.

  “If that's what the Gods deem fit, so be it.” Seizing the initiative, I took the lovely, scarlet-and-white scaled hand hanging at the girl's side and kissed it gently. “I would be most honored to have your company alone then.”

  I could see the blush about the barmaid's gills as she raised her free hand to her mouth, but the flirtatious giggle that followed was drowned out by a shrill cry from above.

  “Murder! Treachery! Someone, call the Watch!” It had started with one voice, but redoubled as oth
ers took up the alarm.

  I could curse fluently in three languages, but I held them all in as I reluctantly dropped the girl's hand. To be a Watcher in the Walled City, the greatest city in all Aardsland and perhaps the world, was a duty that did not end when your shift closed. The Scale's common room turned into disarray and panic as I grabbed my watchcoat from my chair and raised my badge above my head.

  “Make way! Inspector coming through!”

  The crowd, as diverse with Folk as any in the City, parted before me. Even the saltiest of seamen and the grittiest of thugs understood, if not respected, the sanctity of the Watch, though the truncheon gripped tight in my right hand helped. As I mounted the stairs in swift steps, I could already guess where the crime had been committed from the gawkers grouped around an open door. The Scale has several secure rooms on the second floor for private parties and other such things, and it was one of those rooms where something undoubtedly unintended had happened.

  What was strange was that I hadn't picked up a scent of anything normally affiliated with murder. My sharp Aard nose was filled with sweat, alcohol, smoke, and other unsavory things, but no blood, gore, or other tell-tale signs of violence. I put that aside as I reached the door, giving the railing of the walkway a few sharp whacks with my truncheon.

  The ringing blows grabbed the attention of the curious mob, turning to see me with my silver badge raised high. I summoned my most authoritative bark, possibly ruined by the beer on my breath and my bountiful cleavage, to announce, “Junior Inspector Vela Redmane, Second Ward Watch! If you didn't see the crime or find the body, clear off!”

  Whether it was my appearance or my reputation at fault, the onlookers only parted to make way instead of dispersing. At least I was fortunate that no one seemed to have trodden over the crime scene itself. By the wide-open door was a shivering Ratiri woman, a full two heads shorter than I with a plump, matronly build. I recognized her as one of the serving staff, a memory backed up by the spilled tray of meat and wine just inside the room itself.

  As for that room, it was a cozy, if plain, affair. I was intimately familiar with rooms like this and I cataloged it swiftly. The bed was immediately to the right, headboard against the wall to allow for a view over the Second Ward's docks, the mixture of moonlight and the rays cast by the City's Celestial Stone dancing across the waters of the Orb Sea. A small fireplace provided the only other light in the room, the two oil lamps in the room dark. A once-fine oak desk and chair sat up against the far wall under the window, seemingly undisturbed. The only things out of place were a shattered window pane, the shards of glass scattered on the desk, and the dead body.

  Sprawled across the bed face-up, he was a tawny-furred Myan, his slit, green eyes still open and staring glassily at the ceiling. Dressed in remarkable finery for a patron of the Mermaid's Scale, there was no obvious cause of death. If not for the growing smell of the corpse's evacuating bowels, one could have mistaken him to be merely sleeping. As I covered my sensitive muzzle with a lace handkerchief, I couldn't shake the final oddity of the dead man: the expression of carnal pleasure on his lips.

  The gossip was already flowing down through the crowd as I turned my eyes to the waitress, her whiskers and nose still twitching with fear. “You, ma'am, you found the body?”

  She nodded twice quickly, shiny eyes focusing on me. “Aye, my lord had left an order downstairs for dinner at nine bells and I brought it up. When I opened the door, I saw him dead and -”

  I raised a hand. “The door wasn't locked? This is one of the private rooms.”

  Perhaps it was the fear of suspicion that made her shivers grow in intensity as she shook her head. “I didn't do nothing wrong of any sort! The door wasn't locked so I only guessed my lord was expecting his meal.”

  “Calm down, ma'am. I am casting no accusations, only looking for the truth.” I put on what I hoped was a comforting smile. If the circumstances had been different, I'd no doubt be flirting with the woman, who looked more comely once you took away the dark effect of fear upon her. “I take it then you dropped the tray in shock and let forth that cry of fear?”

  My smile had the right effect as the lady seemed to calm after a moment. “Yes, Inspector, but I swear I didn't touch a thing. I was too scared to! It could be poison or a curse or … the Lurkers.” She put two long fingers to the middle of her brow, the sign of Nym, goddess of purity, at the mention of the black creatures that dwelt below the deepest reaches of the Walled City.

  “It wasn't Lurkers.” I let my voice raise loud enough for every gossip and rumormonger pressing around us to hear. The last thing I or the Watch needed was rumors of a Lurker attack, especially with no evidence of one. “You did the right thing though. Now what is your name?”

  “Christabelle, Inspector.”

  I favored Christabelle with another smile. “A lovely name. Do you know the lord's?” I didn't expect that whatever name he had given would be real, considering where he was and what he appeared to be, but any clue could be important.

  Christabelle glanced nervously from side to side. “Lord Chai, methinks.” Definitely not the victim's actual name, but I expected as much.

  I nodded slowly. “Very well, if I have any more questions, I will come see you. For now, tell your master Scoven that I need his bouncers to clear out the rabble from getting underfoot. More of the Watch will be here soon and they won't be as kindly as I.”

  She straightened herself up and nodded. “Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am!” With that, she scurried off into the crowd and down the stairs.

  Free to investigate further, I took a step over the spilled food and purposefully closed the door in the faces of the gawkers. No more free show for them. It was time to go to work.

  By the time a squad of Watchers had arrived on the scene, I had nearly finished my examination of the room and the body. There were things that would have to be left to the surgeons at the Watchtower, of course, but I had the sinking feeling they would only confirm what I had already found, clues that presented questions rather than even the faintest of answers.

  As I initially noted, the Myan's corpse had no injuries and no signs of poisoning. No needle marks, no discoloration of the flesh, or no anything. The only clue to his demise was the frozen expression of unmitigated lust on his face, something confirmed by the stains in the front of the man's trousers. I could only surmise that this richly-dressed man had been taken by the Dealer through the failure of his heart under an extremity of pleasure.

  It wasn't impossible certainly, but the problem with that theory was a lack of stimuli. While I supposed one could work oneself into such a frenzy simply through the power of thought or imagination, my mind moved quickly on to the more probable cause: magic.

  A sufficiently powerful wizard was capable of all manner of mental manipulation. They had run roughshod over the politics of the Walled City for centuries despite their hand in the Collapse, until the Seventeenth Lord High Mayor created the Sorcereum to train and observe wizardly practices within the City itself. The Sorcererum and its archons weren't perfect answers, but they allowed the more civic-minded mages to get a handle on their more chaotic brethren.

  For magic to have done the deed, it would have been ideal for the spell-caster to have been close to the victim - the closer the target, the less mana needed to weave the spell - or have some other sympathetic link either to the target or to the caster. It could be a lock of the victim's hair, an enchanted icon to provide a conduit for the sorcerer's power, or a myriad of other possibilities. Pondering that, my eyes caught a glint of light from within the slowly dying fireplace.

  Kneeling down, the source of the glittering became obvious. A small, purple crystal was slowly charring in the embers; its light starting to be concealed by a coating of ash. I swiftly grasped up the tongs hanging by the poker next to the fireplace, using them to clutch the smoldering gem.

  Holding it up to my eyes, I smiled. It wasn't a literal ‘smoking scroll’, no, but the flutter of magic still hu
ng in the facets of the gem. Keeping the tongs clenched in one hand, I turned on my knees, my gaze cutting a line around the room before focusing on the window.

  Normally, a broken pane in the Second Ward, one of the three wards of the destitute first layer of the Walled City, would mean little. That there was actual glass in the windows was a testament to the relative wealth of the Scale. However, if the window had been shattered in the past, the glass would have been cleaned up long ago. No. That pane had been broken recently and, more importantly, had been broken from the outside. Something hard launched with enough strength could have shattered that window and landed right into the fireplace.

  I picked the cooling crystal out of the tongs. This was the key to the mystery lord's demise. I simply had to follow its trail.

  From A Visitor's Guide to the Walled City by Eve Torrent, Wind tour guide:

  The City Watchtower is perhaps one of the best landmarks one can use, as it is the only structure that runs through all five layers of the City. However, considering the stern stonework and terse nature of the Watch itself, it is something best viewed from a distance as opposed to taking in a tour of its interior.

  From a Watch missive from Inspector Hors Blackfoot to Magistrate Kennin Tsu:

  While I understand that a Watcher's personal affairs are not the business of the Watch assuming there is no unlawful behavior, I still say to you that a further investigation of Watcher Redmane is in order. I have no evidence of illegal actions, but there are multiple accounts of personal affairs that would tarnish the Watch's sterling reputation with the populace. Please allow me an audience at your earliest convenience to present said accounts to you.

  From the journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, 14 Octavian 736 PC:

  A cup of hot tea and a cigarillo hadn't been enough to completely quiet my nerves and the wait in the Chief Inspector's office wasn't helping. Instead of sleeping in a soft, feather mattress warmed by a beautiful man or maiden or both, I had gotten what sleep I could on the lumpy cot in the Tower's alchemy lab, in between tests on the crystal from the crime scene. I needed a perfect piece of evidence to show that I had what it took for this case.