Brian McClellan - Murder at the Kinnen Hotel

“But sir,” Jain protested, “a shot went off in here! The whole hotel heard it, and the door was locked from the inside when the concierge arrived. I could still smell the sulfur of the shot when I came in.”

Adamat tapped the butt of the pistol against one palm. “That’s the problem.”

“Captain Hewi will want to hear something.”

“Tell her,” Adamat said slowly, “that Ricard Tumblar’s mistress was murdered by a powder mage.”

Later that day, Adamat took the short ride to the precinct building to recall everything he knew about powder mages.

It wasn’t much, to be honest. Powder mages commanded one of the three primary methods of sorcery. Theirs depended on the use of common black powder to make them stronger and faster, and to increase their senses well beyond those of a normal human. They could detonate powder at a small distance and even use it to manipulate bullets in flight.

Powder mages were also very rare. Most royal cabals of Privileged sorcerers saw powder magery as a threat to their power and so openly sought to suppress them. It wasn’t illegal to be a powder mage in Adro, as it was in many neighboring countries, but it certainly made life more difficult.

Adamat had only ever heard of a single powder mage with any public influence, but General Tamas was on campaign with the Adran army in the far east and would be no help at all on this matter.

He arrived at the precinct building at about six o’clock, having spent the day interviewing hotel employees and guests, as well as working his way through the surrounding neighborhood.

He slipped in through the back, hoping that Captain Hewi was still in her office, only to find Lieutenant Dorry and three of his constables lounging in the main recreation area just inside the back door.

Dorry saw him immediately and got to his feet, tossing aside a handful of playing cards. “Detective constable,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at his companions with a sly smile. “I understand you’ve allowed the prime suspect of a murder investigation to leave the scene.”

“Mr. Tumblar isn’t a suspect. And how did your investigation go today, lieutenant?” Adamat asked. “Did you beat a confession out of an innocent cook yet?”

“Oh, she confessed,” Dorry said. “Just like I told you she would.” He gave a self-satisfied smile. “The beating was just for a little extra fun.”

Adamat returned his smile, putting every ounce of disgust he could behind it. “How civilized.” He stepped around Dorry and headed for the hall to Captain Hewi’s office.

“The captain is furious,” Dorry said. “She doesn’t even want to see your face after what you pulled this morning. And now the thing with this Ricard Tumblar murder. I’ll be surprised if you last the week. You’ll be lucky if they demote you to constable and ship you back to the Twelfth.”

Adamat bristled, but he wouldn’t give Dorry the satisfaction of seeing him angry.

“A powder mage?” Dorry called after him. “Is that the best you can come up with? You’ll have the whole precinct chasing a ghost next!”

“More original than the cook,” Adamat said over his shoulder.

“You’ll have to find a job as one after my report to the commissioner!”

Adamat rounded the corner and went to the captain’s door, knocking once before entering.

Hewi looked up from a report on her desk and eyed Adamat as if she’d swallowed something sour. “A powder mage? Really?”

“Funny,” Adamat said, pointing down the hall as he shut the door. “Lieutenant Dorry just asked a similar question.” He watched Hewi’s face; no sign of amusement was forthcoming. “Sorry, captain, that was in poor taste.”

“Don’t get me started on that idiot Dorry,” Hewi said. “I’ve just read a report from our mortician that claims Dorry flagrantly robs the unclaimed corpses of murder victims. It appears the mortician has filed seven such reports over the last three years with my predecessor and I can’t do a damn thing about it because of the commissioner.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just do your job. Now sit down and tell me about your investigation.”

Adamat reviewed his initial impression of the hotel room and his interview with Ricard, all the way up till he found that the pistol had never been fired.

“Well,” Hewi said, “I can see how you’d assume foul play after that. Did you do a full search of the room?”

“The room and the road beneath his window. There was no other weapon to be found.”

“Could he have had an accomplice?” Hewi asked. “Someone to catch a discarded pistol and spirit it away?”

“Ricard can be daft at times, but he’s a smart man. If he wanted to kill his mistress he could have done it a hundred ways that wouldn’t have implicated him.”

“So you think someone set him up?”

“I’m convinced of it,” Adamat said.

“Give me your theory.”

“The first part of my theory,” Adamat said, “is that a powder mage entered Ricard’s room sometime yesterday and planted a sufficient enough amount of black powder to sound like a pistol shot when set off. They entered his room again in the middle of the night to put the gun beside him in the bed. This morning they proceeded to a rooftop a quarter mile away, where they took a shot with a rifle, killing the poor girl. It would have been an easy shot with their sorcery. They then returned to the hotel where they set off the hidden powder charge with their sorcery in order to alert the staff.”

“That’s … quite a story,” Hewi said. Her expression was halfway between bemused and entirely annoyed. “Do you have anything to back this theory up, beyond the unfired pistol?”

Adamat was ready for her skepticism. “Powder residue in the bath. Reports of a shot fired at six this morning from the roof of a tenement east of the Kinnen Hotel-and, by the way, tracks in the snow on the rooftop. The window was open two inches and a straight line can be drawn from the victim’s head to the window, and to the distant rooftop.”

Hewi’s annoyance seemed to ebb. She let out a whistle. “This has all been documented?”

“The precinct artist is giving me a likeness of each location, including the footprints on the roof.”

“All right, detective constable. What about the shot from the room? Powder fired from a pistol makes a different sound than powder burned in the bottom of a bathtub. How do you account for that?”

“I understand that powder mages can warp the blast of the powder with their minds. Replicating the sound would take practice, but it’s entirely possible.”

Hewi reached across her desk for a jar of tobacco then packed a pipe before lighting it with a match. She puffed it to life then pointed the stem at Adamat. “You know, you have a hard time getting along with the other constables because you always have the answers.”

“They’re just theories, ma’am,” Adamat said. He understood that it had been meant as a compliment, but frankly it annoyed him that other constables couldn’t see what he saw. Investigative police work was not common practice in any force that he’d heard of. It was considered right and proper to take everything at face value.

“They’re damn good ones,” Hewi replied. “And it’s why I brought you with me from the Twelfth.” She let out a sigh. “It’s damn good police work, but it may be for nothing.”

Adamat blinked at her. “Excuse me?”

“Commissioner Aleksandre came by about an hour ago. He heard about your powder mage theory, and the fact that you let Ricard Tumblar go home. He ordered that we arrest Tumblar and charge him immediately.”

“That’s preposterous!” Adamat sat up straight.