Page 10 of Dark Bringer (Lord of Everfell #1)

Gavriel

H e ran down the witness list for the tenth time, trying to gather his thoughts. He had never needed bodyguards before and he didn’t care for it. They were a distraction when he needed all his faculties focused on the case.

At least Mercy Blackthorn looked like a proper cypher, tall and solid. But he wasn’t sure what to make of her partner, the one with the strange name.

He had to admit that Cathrynne Rowan’s silvery hair and eyes made a striking combination with her sweet, delicate features.

Never before had Gavriel seen a cypher whose angel blood was so pronounced.

He could more easily picture her singing in the Chorale at Mount Meru than wielding the whip and cudgel at her hip.

Against his will, he kept sneaking glances, the witness list entirely forgotten now.

She wore the uniform of the cyphers, a snug bodice and breeches that revealed a shapely form.

Her left hand was bandaged. He wondered if she’d lost a fight in some seedy tavern before coming here.

Of course, he was recovering from an injury himself.

He decided to be charitable and give Cathrynne Rowan the benefit of the doubt.

“Lord Morningstar.” Levi Bottas poked his head in. He wore a dark suit with a black cravat knotted at his throat.

Rowan blocked his path, one hand dropping to her cudgel.

“It’s all right,” Gavriel said. “He’s Casolaba’s aide. I’m expecting him.”

Bottas eyed the two cyphers with trepidation.

“This is my new security detail,” Gavriel explained. “Now, have you located the body? I shall want to examine it myself.”

Bottas grimaced as if bracing for a storm. “That will be difficult, my lord, since he’s been cremated.”

“Who ordered that?” Gavriel snapped.

“The widow, sir. She said it was the consul’s wishes.”

“Is she unaware that there is a criminal investigation underway?”

“No, sir. But no one had given the morgue any explicit orders to hold the body, so they released it to her yesterday. She was adamant that her husband didn’t want to be gawked at if he passed away. Her words, sir.”

“How convenient. Then we must confirm the account of the street sweeper, as he was the last to view the body. Yarl, I will leave that to you.” Gavriel turned back to Bottas. “What about the other witnesses? Don’t tell me they’re all on holiday.”

“No, sir,” he said quickly. “In fact, the first on your list is waiting outside. Assemblywoman Luzia Bras.”

She was the head of the Miners’ Union, the main opposition party in Kota’s Assembly. The Miners’ Union and Casolaba’s Freedom League were old foes, making Luzia Bras a prime suspect.

“Show her in,” Gavriel said.

The cyphers at the door stood back, though they looked ready to pounce at the slightest threat.

Luzia Bras strode into the office with the brash confidence she was famous for in the Assembly.

She wore a leather jacket and trousers and carried herself with the authority of someone used to commanding a room.

“Lord Morningstar,” she said, taking in the injured wing. “I heard what happened. It’s outrageous. Killing that pig Barsal is one thing, but now they’ve crossed the line!”

Gavriel suppressed a smile and gestured for her to sit. “For the record,” he said, “you’ve come voluntarily to discuss Consul Casolaba’s murder, is that correct?”

Her laugh was loud and genuine. “I didn’t know it was optional. But I’ve nothing to hide. Sure, I despised him. So did a lot of people. He had no friends, Lord Morningstar.” Bras’s dark eyes flicked to Bottas with undisguised contempt. “Only flunkies and rivals.”

Yarl’s pen scratched against a fresh ledger, recording every word.

“You speak bluntly of a man whose body is barely cold,” Gavriel said.

If she knew Casolaba had already been cremated, she gave no sign of it.

“And I’ll say the same over his grave.” Her lip curled with contempt.

“The pig grabbed my ass right in the Assembly chamber when I first came to the Red House as a junior delegate. He treated the women staffers like concubines, and sold out the miners to the gem conglomerates every chance he got. His death improves the province.”

Gavriel did not bother to dispute this assessment, which he privately thought was accurate.

“I saw the harassment complaints,” he said. “All of them were eventually dropped.”

Luzia Bras snorted. “After Barsal paid off his accusers. Or threatened them.” She gazed at him frankly. “What more can I tell you?”

“Where were you the night of the murder?”

“At home.” She glanced at Yarl with a smirk. “Write that down, and make sure you note that I would not be ashamed to kill such a man if I could get away with it. He deserved everything he got. But it wasn’t me.”

Gavriel wondered if she was bold enough to toy with him.

Yet the woman’s hair was streaked generously with gray and deep laugh lines bracketed her mouth.

She must be in her sixties. Could she have carried Casolaba’s body up to the spire?

And considering that Gavriel himself was attacked with lithomancy, the culprit was likelier to be a witch.

The witches had a non-voting delegation that observed the Assembly proceedings. Any one of them might have lured Casolaba inside after the building closed.

“Can someone verify your whereabouts?” Gavriel asked.

“My children are grown, and I kicked my worthless husband out years ago.” She shrugged. “Ask my neighbors if you want. I was home by eight. I’m not as young as I used to be. I need my rest.”

Gavriel let her go. Primo Roloa entered next, bringing with him the scent of tobacco. The acting consul, formerly Casolaba’s deputy, fidgeted in his seat, fingers twitching for the cigarette he’d just extinguished.

“This is a terrible business,” he said. “A terrible business. The Freedom League pledges full cooperation. Whatever you need.”

“I appreciate that.” Gavriel folded his hands on the desk. “Your relationship with Consul Casolaba, was it cordial?”

“Entirely.” His fingers drummed the armrest. “We had our disagreements, naturally. That’s politics. But we maintained a united front for the party.”

“And the night of his death?”

“I was at a fundraising dinner until well past midnight. Hundreds of people saw me there. I made a speech.” He loosened his collar. “A political function we hold annually. Important for maintaining relationships with the biggest donors.”

Gavriel nodded to Yarl, who made a note to verify this claim.

“Did Casolaba have enemies who would wish him harm?” Gavriel asked, curious only as to whom Roloa would choose to name.

A nervous laugh. “The consul’s position makes enemies by its nature. But murder?” Roloa shook his head. “Unthinkable.”

“I would ask you to be more specific.”

Roloa blew out a long, wheezing breath. “The Miners’ Union, obviously. Bunch of thugs. Everyone knows it.”

“Did he have any late meetings planned the night he was killed?”

“None that I’m aware of.”

“Would you be willing to surrender your weekly diary?” Gavriel asked.

Roloa opened his valise and took out a small book. “I expected you’d ask that. Here it is, Lord Morningstar.”

Gavriel flipped through the pages and saw nothing of interest. But of course, Roloa would hardly write anything incriminating in a diary.

“Thank you for your time,” he said. “We’ll be in touch.”

Roloa flashed a relieved smile. “I have every confidence you’ll catch this rogue, Lord Morningstar. The people of Kota Gelangi deserve no less.”

* * *

The ambassador from Kievad Rus was the last interview of the morning. An uncommonly tall man named Tamarkin Volkov, he was graying at the temples, with cropped hair and prominent ears.

“This is ludicrous,” he declared before Gavriel asked a single question. “To insinuate that Kievad Rus had any involvement in this heinous crime is slander of the highest order.”

“I fear we’ve begun on the wrong foot, ambassador,” Gavriel replied. “This is an interview, not an inquisition. I must speak to everyone who knew the man, surely you grasp that.”

Volkov sniffed, but deigned to sit down. “We have nothing to gain from Casolaba’s death.”

“There are several mining disputes currently in arbitration between your province and Satu Jos.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “Those are legal matters, as you must well know, Lord Morningstar. The Assembly had nothing to do with them. And to be perfectly candid, we preferred Casolaba to his deputy. Barsal could be reasoned with.”

“Bribed, you mean.”

The ambassador sighed deeply. “If you’re looking for suspects, I suggest you start with the witches. Who else could hang a man from the spire?”

And burn his eyes out , Gavriel thought.

“I am examining every angle,” he said. “Now, perhaps you can tell me where you were the night of the murder?”

* * *

When the first batch of interviews were concluded, Gavriel rose and stretched his uninjured wing. “I fear we are no closer to the truth than when we began, Yarl,” he said. “Let us verify the witnesses’ alibis. You and Bottas can do that.”

A pair of workmen arrived to hang the drapes. Gavriel reluctantly abandoned the desk to make room for them.

“Have you visited the scene of death?”

He turned. Cypher Rowan was looking at him expectantly.

“Both the witches and the Assembly guards examined every inch of the dome,” Gavriel said. “They found nothing besides the body.”

“I just wonder why he was displayed so publicly.” She bit her full lower lip, frowning. “They could have slit his throat and dumped him in an alley, but they wanted the whole city to see their handiwork.”

Gavriel lifted his gaze from her mouth, distracted. “Your point?”

“It just seems as if someone was sending a message. I could escort you up to the roof.” She hesitated. “Unless you have something more important to do.”

His first instinct was to refuse. Rowan’s advice was unsolicited and doubtless a waste of time. But his current approach had yielded little progress, and the workmen were now hammering.

“Very well,” he said reluctantly.