Mark Newton - Retribution

Sulma Tan placed a hand on Borta’s shoulder and Grendor’s wife turned into her, no longer able to hold back the tears.

No matter how many times I did this, one of the worst parts of the job was witnessing the impact on those left behind — their own world shattered by such exits. Many of my colleagues in the Sun Chamber did not concern themselves with emotions — either out of their own belligerence or simply because they found it easier to work this way. However, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Borta. My own father having recently passed away, I was perhaps even more sensitive to this than usual. It helped me to remember that each body was more than just a case to solve. They had been a person who had loved and been loved and left a hole in someone’s life that would last forever.

Giving them a moment alone, I stepped away to get another look up the stairs, noting the blood once again, before peering along the street. It was possible that Grendor had been kidnapped on his way home and tortured for a whole day before his corpse was dumped on his own doorstep.

But what could Grendor have to do with the bishop? What connected these two men, if anything? If Grendor alone had been killed, I might have wondered if the murder had a military underpinning. Though I did not know of all the secretive ways of governments and armies, it was possible he had been killed as part of a military operation. Did that have anything to do with the tensions with Detrata? But then again, what could a bishop possibly have done to invoke the wrath of a military assassin?

I’d have so many more questions for Borta and tonight was not the best time to conduct a thorough interview.

I consulted Leana briefly on my thoughts, and she agreed that it would be better if we started afresh the next day.

‘If the murderer is the same person,’ Leana concluded in hushed tones, ‘he is unlikely to have gone far. We may yet find him.’

After consulting with Borta and Sulma Tan, we agreed that Leana and I would return first thing in the morning, once Borta had taken the opportunity to sleep and gather her thoughts. Borta was grateful for the gesture and walked slowly, with heavy steps, up back through the darkness to her front door. Would she be alone tonight, or would any relatives come to comfort her? By the time I’d thought of this she’d already locked herself in for the night.

The three of us remained in the area a little longer, doing our best in the poor light to examine the streets for signs of the incident, for something that could give us a trail. For an hour at least we combed the cobbles and knocked on the doors of neighbours, but few people answered strangers at this hour and no clues turned up. At least, none that we could see in the dark.

Sulma Tan had been studying the stairs for further evidence.

Not wanting to disturb Borta I said quietly: ‘Have you found anything?’

Stepping back down towards me she shook her head. She stood on the edge of the kerb regarding the buildings opposite. ‘Nothing at all, and it is getting late — I really ought to be back soon.’

‘You don’t have to help us find evidence, you know that?’

‘I can’t seem to leave such matters alone,’ she said. ‘I like to do things myself as I am so often surrounded by people who are useless. It is a habit I cannot shake easily.’

‘What a compliment,’ I replied, smiling.

‘I didn’t mean you,’ she said. ‘You both seem very capable — I meant the administrators in the palace.’

‘I knew what you meant. Thank you for your help here. May we escort you back to the palace?’

‘No, I’ll be fine — I know my way around the prefecture well enough. You can presumably find your way back. Will you need me in the morning?’

‘We’ll not hold you up any more than we have already.’

‘I would appreciate regular updates, so that I may keep the queen informed. Please use our messenger service — it is highly commendable.’ She began to leave and then stopped herself. Her shoulders relaxed a little more, and now she spoke in a softer tone. ‘Of course, should you need help and advice about the city or its people, you know where to find me and I will be happy to help you. In the meantime, I’ll get the names and addresses of Grendor’s dinner companions and get them sent to you. Goodnight.’ She gave a discreet bow to us before walking gracefully into the darkness.

I sat back on the kerb and watched her until she was out of sight, then listened to her heavy boots for a few moments. It was then that I realized I’d forgotten to ask her if we could find a more secure place to stay.

Leana perched next to me, moving her scabbard out of the way, and I could sense she was about to impart some of her wisdom.

‘I would have thought by now,’ she began, ‘that you would be less obvious in your approaches to women. Besides, you never get to the point with them. You. . dither too much in such matters. In Atrewe, we do not mess about. If there is attraction, people act upon those sensations — women and men speak their minds. So, for once why not do things the Atrewen way and spare yourself the agony?’

Laughing, I shook my head. ‘No, not that.’

‘No attraction?’

I shrugged. ‘I can’t think of anyone but Titiana. .’ As soon as I spoke her name I could see her again: dead, hanging in my garden, blood pooling underneath her feet. Killed in such a way because of my investigations. I couldn’t even imagine my own home any more, not without evoking her image. Titiana was an old love, one who I rediscovered; our renewed acquaintance never really had the chance to breathe and develop fully in those few days. Now it never would.

It was funny how closed paths were the ones we often wished to walk the most.

‘You must let her go, Lucan.’ Leana’s tone was neither cold nor warm; it was never easy to perceive her intentions.

You can talk , I wanted to say. Leana, who lost her husband years ago during war, who was still bound even in death, wanted to lecture me in the art of letting go of a loved one. Perhaps she was aware of her mistake, for she gave as close as she normally gets to an apology. ‘It is not my business, I know. Come, let us return to our room. We will not be solving much tonight.’

Leana held out her hand and picked me up from the pavement — a gesture I appreciated. Together we walked home through the darkness, her torch still a beacon, my Sun Chamber brooch still glinting in its light.

All around us, the nightlife in the Sorghatan Prefecture continued its quiet flow, every bit as strange and alluring as it was in Tryum, every bit as feral-sounding as it was in Venyn City, where I had spent so many years. But somehow these sounds were far more subtle, and distant, no matter the direction we travelled in. It was as if Koton deliberately kept its forbidden taverns and illicit nightlife well away from conventional thoroughfares, as if the city’s streets were conscious and fluid, steering us away from what we were not meant to see. In Tryum such things were thrust in one’s face, here I had the sense that you had to make an effort to find a wild evening.

But such notions rarely affected me. This wasn’t the first time that Leana and I ignored enticing events due to our work, and it wouldn’t be the last, so we continued on our way. And all the way back, amidst these strange, out-of-reach sounds, I kept an eye out, wondering vaguely if our friend from the rooftops would pay us another visit. Or if they were watching us right at this very moment from some hidden doorway.

The new day’s sun rose through the gap in the buildings opposite our room, casting a warm glow across my face. Somewhere in the distance a priestess began to chant a lovely, pentatonic melody, which was rudely interrupted by the noise of geese being transported along the street outside, the cart rocking heavily on the cobbles. A breeze came in through the half-open window; it promised to be another warm and humid day, but at least last night’s rain had cleansed the air.