Page 14
Story: Stolen Magic
Cecillia’s expression hardened as she shot a glance to where she’d been staring a moment past.“Because it’s clear that farce you just witnessed at the entrance was a ruse to distract your attention.”
It took a moment for her meaning to sink in.Evander’s shoulders knotted.
“Shaw, how long has it been since you were removed from Professor Whitley’s chambers?”he asked urgently as he matched Cecillia’s strides.
“It’s been fifteen minutes, sir,” Shaw replied, confused.
Rufus’s eyes widened when he finally deciphered the meaning behind Cecillia’s words.“They wouldn’t dare interfere with a crime scene!”
Shaw sucked in air, outrage darkening her face.
They reached the third floor, hurried along a series of halls, and turned a corner.
A heavy door bearing a brass nameplate labelled “Professor Walter Whitley, Chair of Elemental Magic Studies” stood at the end of a short corridor.
It was ajar.Cecillia slowed alongside Evander, her face pale.
“Shaw?”Rufus asked the forensic mage tersely.
Shaw lowered her brows.“I locked up the premises, sir.Dearmont and his lackeys took the key off me before escorting me to the exit.”
Evander’s pulse raced as he took the lead and approached the door.He released a small burst of elemental magic when he got within five feet of it.
Nothing triggered his alarm.
Evander unfolded the enchanted cane strapped to the inside of his forearm and carefully pushed the door with the tip.It creaked fully open, revealing a spacious room lit up by the sunbeams streaming through the mullioned windows.
Shaw scowled.“It was not like this when I locked up, your Grace.”
A muscle twitched in Evander’s cheek.He could tell from Cecillia’s expression that she too was shocked by what she was witnessing.
Whitley’s office was in a state of disarray that could not be explained by the simple clutter of a busy and distracted academic.Gaps dotted the bookshelves lining the walls, the leather-bound tomes and scrolls that had seemingly occupied the spaces lying pell-mell across the floor.Cupboards were half-open, contents spilling out in a muddle.
The massive oak desk sitting under the windows also showed signs of having being hastily searched, its drawers ajar and half-melted candles and magical instruments lying on their sides between the papers strewn haphazardly across the surface.
Evander strode swiftly to a door on their left.It connected to a private suite with a small bedroom, bathroom, and dressing room.He frowned.
It was clear from their state that they too had been hastily searched.
“It appears your conjecture was correct,” Rufus told Cecillia in a hard voice as Evander joined them.
Cecillia swallowed.“Trust me when I say I wish I had been wrong, Inspector.”
“Do you have any idea who might have done this?”Evander asked, stopping in the middle of the floor.
He could not detect the tell signs of dark magic around them.There was no unearthly chill to the room, nor the faint stench that would have characterised the recent presence of a dark mage.
Cecillia hesitated.“No.”
“It’s clear Professor Dearmont and that fat-fingered fool are involved in this, your Grace,” Shaw protested.“We should just question the bastards.”
“We cannot go around accusing the faculty without proof, Shaw.”Evander frowned.“Besides, they have an alibi.They were with you when this happened.”
Shaw jutted her chin, undeterred.“What of the key they took off me?”
“The headmaster no doubt has a master key.”Evander moved past a sitting area with comfortable armchairs and squatted to examine the hearth.The lack of cold ashes suggested it had been days since a fire burned there.“And it wouldn’t be that hard to make a copy of the one in the charge of the caretaker.”
He rose and turned to face a slightly deflated Shaw.
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