Adam Drake - Blackout

“Not from a retired detective.” Fairfax said it as a statement.

I sighed. “Get help from the Capital Constabulary. They may find this warrants a larger investigation than our local one can manage. That would be my recommendation. I’m sorry, but that is all I can offer you.”

I looked away, not wanting to see his eyes. Home called for me. My only duties for the remainder of the day were crawling into bed and having a nice long nap. But would I dream of cats or stone men?

Fairfax nodded. “I understand. And I appreciate you coming here. Shall I take you home now?”

I was about to answer when a brilliant white car pulled off the road and parked next to where we stood. It lurched to a stop, kicking up dust and dirt into our eyes. This was one of the more expensive model of buggies, and usually could only be found in the Capital. The gaudy thing looked like a beached whale on wheels.

“It’s the Mayor,” Fairfax coughed out, swiping dust away from his face.

A fat little man jumped out of the passenger’s side. He was bald, save for a pathetic wisp of a comb-over, and had a razor thin line of a mustache that edged his upper lip. Looking about with beady eyes he settled on me and scowled.

As the fat man marched over to us another man, this one tall and thin, emerged from the driver’s side and hurried to catch up with his shorter companion.

“What is going on here?” the little fat man said.

“Oh, Sigwald,” I said with maudlin tones. “Always a pleasure.”

“That is Mayor Archambault to you, Mayra,” Sigwald said. “What are you doing here?” He looked to Fairfax. “Why is she here? She is no longer a part of the force.”

“She is here as a consultant,” Fairfax said evenly. “At the Chief Constable’s express invitation.”

Around us the other constables watched but shrewdly kept a distance.

“Oh, that is wonderful isn’t it?” Sigwald nearly spat. He looked at me. “Don’t you think this case would be better suited in the hands of active duty investigators?”

“I wanted to see for myself -”, I said but he interrupted.

“Wanted to see what? How a murder investigation is properly conducted?” He glared at Fairfax. “Will you be charging admission next? Hmm? Let the local children have a look at the body for a copper piece?”

“Miss Beeweather has the best case clearance rate in the history of the -”, Fairfax said but Sigwald wouldn’t let him finish.

“Unprofessional is what it is!” Sigwald said.

“Most unprofessional,” parroted the tall skinny man with a hook nose hovering behind Sigwald. He had an unseemly birthmark under his left eye. It was Davlon Blythe, the mayor’s assistant and perpetual sycophant.

“And she is retired! Am I correct? She should not be here at all. In any capacity,” Sigwald said.

“That is for the Chief Constable to decide,” Fairfax said.

Sigwald barked a laugh. “The Chief Constable, eh? Well, we’ll see what he thinks once I bring this to the Town Council’s attention. That might clear his head of any notion of bringing Mayra into an investigation. And her little… circus.”

The last was said with a hateful glance at my satchel.

Neither Fairfax nor I said anything in response. There was no point. It would only encourage Sigwald to make more of a spectacle.

When Sigwald realized we wouldn’t cater to his tantrum he whirled around and pointed at the nearest constable. “You, there! Take me to this poor fellow’s body. I want to see for myself.”

The unfortunate constable looked to Fairfax, who begrudged a nod.

We watched as Sigwald disappeared over the river embankment with his assistant and a cluster of frightened constables in his wake.

“What an unpleasant little man,” I said.

Fairfax snorted and said, “Well, you did have two of his business partners thrown in prison for a good long time.”

I placed a hand on the knitting bag within the satchel and smiled at Fairfax. “Oh, yes. There was that. I had almost forgotten.”

“He hasn’t,” Fairfax said.

Nor would he ever. I thought about Sigwald and the terror he induced in everyone around him. The little man flared up my temper good and hot. Though putting his partners away had been a highlight of my career there had been nothing to directly link Sigwald to their crimes. Yet even the stink of corruption didn’t put a dent in Sigwald’s campaign to get reelected as Mayor.

Still, I found I enjoyed the thought of making Sigwald annoyed. Maybe I would like to make him even more annoyed.

“Shall I take you home now, miss?” Fairfax said, motioning toward his buggy.

“No,” I said. “That won’t be necessary.”

Fairfax looked at me in surprise.

“Let us have a gander at Oswall’s desk,” I said with a grin.

The Constabulary looked the same as when I last visited. Not that I expected any great change. The building had been in use by the Protection Services for at least a century. Perhaps I feared the neglect of the Town Council toward the department had caused the place to collapse out of sheer ambivalence. I was relieved to see it had not.

We pulled around the back and onto a gated lot. There were only two other buggies parked there.

“Everyone is on scene or doing their patrols,” Fairfax said as he parked nearest to the building’s rear door.

“Of course,” I said. I felt for Fairfax. He was a true sworn protector and always made excuses when something lacking of Protection Services became obvious.

No doubt he made constant excuses.

I exited the buggy, satchel clutched close to my side and looked at the place. Old and perfunctory. Like me. I smiled at my own dull humor.

Fairfax noticed and arched a questioning brow as he opened the Constabulary’s back door. “Care to share the joke?”

A shook my head. “No, Fairfax. Just a bit of gas.” This time I chuckled and feared Fairfax thought I’d lost my mind.

Inside, the tiled floor gleamed brightly, reflecting the sunlight which passed through huge bay windows.

I squinted, surprised. “This is new,” I said.

“Chief Constable fought hard for it to get done but the Council refused to approve any funds. In the end, the Chief called on a few favors and finished it a few weeks ago.”

I could hear a mix of pride and frustration in his voice. I said no more.

The Sergeant Constable stood at a counter in front of the wide open doorway which led into the main room of the Constabulary. His job was to field queries which came through and direct them accordingly.

He beamed once he spotted me.

“Detective Beeweather! You are a welcome sight. How have you been if I may enquire?”

“Still alive, Sergeant Maginhart. But please, no Detective, just Miss Beeweather,” I said and felt a flush across my cheeks. Gannon Maginhart was one of the longest serving constables in the service. And he was quite handsome, too.

Gannon grinned. “Of course. Miss it is.” I took pleasure in noticing he did not glance at my satchel. Either he didn’t care or made an effort show it. Regardless, I appreciated the gesture.

Gannon held a pen over the large log book in front of him. “Should I write you down as Acting Detective, then?”

Fairfax answered for me. “Please put her as a consultant, will you Maginhart?” He knew another title might cause a dust up with a review board.

“Very well,” Sergeant Maginhart said and made a scribble on the thick parchment.

I spotted a tin of biscuits on Maginhart’s desk. “May I?” I asked.

“Please, help yourself.”

I snatched up a biscuit and made a point of giving Fairfax a smug look while I chewed it down.

“Chief back, yet?” Fairfax asked, trying to ignore me.