“Do you see that?” Kordian asked. He kneeled on the ground of Medea Street, where the power robbery had been committed more than a week ago. Jeldrik had passed the street before on his nights out with friends. The area was by most mages referred to as the Haven, as countless of strong disinterest charms were cast every month to deflect non-mages from entering, which made mages feel particularly free here – also, mages had a proclivity to melodrama, which led to the rather effusive naming of the area. The Haven was mostly known for its bustling nightlife, but mages came also here to purchase various goods that were needed to do all forms of magic, including ingredients for potions or spells that were difficult or impossible to find in normal shops, enchanted jewellery, or utensils like cauldrons and ladles and vials. It felt, however, much less whimsical as it sounded; in fact, when entering the area, it was hardly noticeable, bar when reading any of the non-magical looking shop signs, that one had set foot in anything out of the ordinary.
Jeldrik looked in the direction Kordian was pointing at. At first he was not sure if he could see anything. But after observing the spot a little longer, he saw a slight green shape – no, two slight green, vaguely human shapes moving in a chaotic manner. A few seconds later, he could make out a certain pattern in the movements. One of the two shapes seemed to fall on its knees, the other shape holding its arms close to the other’s head. Before the shadows could continue with their struggle, they dissolved and reappeared where they had started, one fell on its knees, the other’s arms stretched out towards the other’s head.
“What’s going on there?” Jeldrik asked.
“Those are traces of magic,” Kordian explained. “I made them temporarily visible. What you can see is the magic that ran through these two people just before one of them performed the power robbery. When you get robbed of your power, you momentarily lose a lot of your physical strength as well and are almost incapable of moving, that’s why the other person fell to the ground.”
“That’s insane!” Jeldrik exclaimed.
“And if the traces were stronger, then what you’re looking at would rather resemble the human circulatory system”
Jeldrik remembered from mage biology class that magic was transported through the body via the blood stream, but to see it, if only a blurry resemblance of it, felt surreal.
“So what are we doing now?” Jeldrik asked.
“Well, first of all, we know now that the witness had actually seen what she claimed. That’s a start.” With a quick movement of Kordian’s hands, the shimmering traces halted in mid-air as if he had pressed the pause button on a remote. “Let’s see if we can improve the picture, so to speak.”
Jeldrik watched the other man step close to the traces and, with further, more convoluted hand movements, circle around them as if sculpting something out of clay.
Whenever non-mages found out that magic was real (and had overcome their doubts and disbelief), what they imagined was some spectacular show with lights sparkling in all colours and loud bangs and fizzling. The reality looked most of the time much different. Of course there were very visual display of the art – disappearing and showing up at another place in the course of less than a second, changing your hair colour – but a lot of magic was completely invisible. Putting plant parts in little bags and mumbling some incantations would hardly be classified as spectacular by any non-mage who was waiting for a bombastic demonstration. But seeing Kordian rushing around the glimmering shadows of the past, moving his hands in quite a theatrical fashion and murmuring words that were not of any natural language, while the traces were flickering and reacting to his movements, would have raised some eyes – even from mages, as most mages lived a almost indistinguishable life from non-mages and saw magic more in movies than anywhere else. The little show made Jeldrik forget for a moment his problems, and when the two had come back to the office just before lunch break, a few photos taken of the slightly improved traces, Jeldrik felt almost as excited as he had when starting his internship.
Jeldrik and Anteo had brought lunch from home and were sitting on the kitchen table. They heard Gabriel’s muffled voice in his office. He was attending a meeting with the Italian equivalent of the DMCI regarding a suspect who had likely fled from Italy to Germany, but neither Jeldrik nor Anteo knew more about what the person was suspected of.
“Any success with Kordian earlier?” Anteo asked. He had circles under his eyes, which looked very out of place in his otherwise flawless face and made him seem tired.
“I honestly couldn’t tell.” Jeldrik shrugged. “It was really impressive though, seeing him do his little dance to improve those traces. And he took some photos of them afterwards, but I’m not sure if that helps us in any way identifying the victim or the perpetrator.”
“I almost focussed on tracking during my education. I was also impressed by Kordian when I went with him to a crime scene. But I liked working with computer stuff even before that, and in the end everything just fell into place.”
Jeldrik wanted to hear more about Anteo’s education, but the other man asked: “Have you heard of Argon’s friend?”
“Oh shit!” Jeldrik explained. “I completely forgot to tell you. He called me yesterday after work. I’m going to meet him tonight.”
“You do?” Anteo raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I honestly didn’t expect him to call.”
“Me neither.” Jeldrik was unsure how to bring up the question he thought was waiting to be asked. He wanted Anteo to come with him, feeling that he was, after all, the more experienced person when it came to investigating, but after the ABA gathering, there had been no clear signals if he was willing to continue helping him. Since there was no other way to find out than to ask, he did precisely that, trying to sound casual, as if it was an afterthought.
“Oh!” Anteo, Jeldrik thought, was trying to maintain the same manner of speech, feigning slight surprise, as if he had not even thought of that possibility. “Tonight, you said? Sure!”
Around four, Gabriel came out of his office and walked towards their desks.
“Anteo, I’m sorry, but I need your help. I’ll be in a meeting in five minutes and I could really need your expertise! It probably won’t take longer than half an hour. Just bring your laptop to my office and attend from there.”
“Sure.” Anteo took his laptop and followed Gabriel into his office.
At half five, Anteo had not yet returned.
At quarter to five, Jeldrik became a little nervous. What would he do if Anteo still had not come out at five?
Ten to five. Five to five. Five. No Anteo.
At ten past, Jeldrik sighed, packed his things, left a little note on Anteo’s desk to apologise that he had to go and left the office.
He looked up Merten Stoltz’s address again and only now realised that he lived in the same area where they had found Argon’s body, just a few high-rises down the road.
He had to take a too full bus, every seat taken, and could only leave thirty minutes later, feeling sweaty and tired. He wished more than ever that he had a car.
When he reached the address, he was confronted with a wall full of doorbells. It took him nearly a minute to find Stoltz’s name. After another minute, Jeldrik heard the man’s voice through the rattling speakers of the intercom.
“Yeah?”
“It’s Jeldrik Goldtau.”
“Fifth floor.”
The door buzzed and Jeldrik pushed it open. He was relieved that he had to walk less than half as many steps as to Argon’s apartment, as his ascent through the identical staircase filled him with unease and slight nausea. He was half expecting to be confronted with a bloody trail on the floor and could not stop thinking about Argon’s maimed body, until he reached the right floor and saw Stoltz standing in his door a few metres into the corridor. He looked as disapproving as Jeldrik had feared, not knowing what it even was the man disapproved of.
“Hello!” Jeldrik exclaimed, trying to sound positive and reaching out his hand. Stoltz, after eying it suspiciously for a few seconds, took it and shook it once.
“Please take off your shoes.”
Jeldrik did as he was told, hoping none of his socks had any holes, while Stoltz was passing him and went through a door on the right. Jeldrik assumed he was supposed to follow him and reached a small living room. Jeldrik had thought he would be greeted by an apartment the quality of Argon’s. But this room looked surprisingly cosy and clean. A slight smell of old carpet hung in the air. A black cat lay on a beige sofa, stretched out and seemingly unbothered by the visitor. Stoltz gestured Jeldrik to sit next to the cat, as he fell down into an armchair opposite it. The cat opened its eyes slightly, when Jeldrik sat down, then went back into its slumber.
“First of all, thank you for your call,” Jeldrik said and, after getting no reaction from Stoltz, who just looked at him expressionless, continued, “Do you mind if I record our conversation?”
Stoltz made a gesture that Jeldrik interpreted as “no”, so he started the recording on his phone, put it on the sofa table in front of him and said: “I thought it makes sense if you tell me about how you knew Theo and –”
“Let’s call him Mr Argon, please, for simplicity’s sake,” Stoltz interrupted him, and Jeldrik, not understanding the simplicity in it, nodded.
“Okay, how you know Mr Argon and what relationship to the ABA you have.”
“First things first, I’m not going to pay you for your work.”
Jeldrik was perplex by that statement, never having thought of payment in the first place. “Of course not!” he said. “I’m not doing this for money.”
“Good, good,” said Stoltz, nodding. Then he continued, “Now, about the ABA, I have no relationship to the ABA whatsoever. I was invited to the gathering by that lady who was doing the talking. I guess she knew from Mr Argon that we were friends. I thought it was proper to attend, for Mr Argon’s sake. I guess it was nice of her to think of me.”
“Of course,” Jeldrik said. “Have you been to the funeral, too?”
“What funeral?” Stoltz gave a short, humourless laugh. “Whoever’s dealing with the crime doesn’t seem to be done with the body yet.”
“Mr Argon isn’t buried yet?” Jeldrik couldn’t hide his surprise.
“That’s what I’m telling you. Those bastards from the DMCI or MMS or whoever’s working on the case don’t give a rat’s arse about that people are grieving.”
“Not the DMCI,” said Jeldrik before he could help it.
“How do you know that?” Stoltz spurted out, his suspicious gaze fixed on Jeldrik.
“I mean, it’s only a theory. But I’m very sure it’s the MMS. They’re usually the ones trying to stir away attention from specific incidents, especially when it’s about politics.” Jeldrik hoped his improvised rant was enough to distract Stoltz, but the man kept staring at him.
“Who are you anyway? I wasn’t sure if I cared, as long as you helped. But what even qualifies you to solve anything? And how are you involved in this?”
Jeldrik breathed in heavily and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, Stoltz had not moved a millimetre. “Before I’m telling you, you need to know that why I’m doing here is on my own accord. I’m doing this because I really think a murder like this needs to be solved. Okay?”
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Stoltz narrowed his eyes, then he nodded once. “Go on then.”
“I’m doing an internship at the DMCI and I … I was the one who found the body.”
Stoltz moved abruptly further back into his chair, as if hit by an invisible force. He blinked a few times, obviously surprised by that reveal. “You found the – the DMCI? You’re police?”
“No! I’m not! Not yet, at least. I’m only an intern. Nobody sent me here though! The MMS took over the case, so my supervisor told me to drop it. But –” Jeldrik slowed himself down. “But you can’t just forget that you had a dead person in front of you. The MMS and the DMCI wouldn’t like if they found out what I’m doing. But – it might sound stupid, but I almost feel like I owe it to Mr Argon to find out who did it.”
Stoltz was still sunk into his armchair, looking concentrated at Jeldrik as if he had presented him with a difficult riddle. Then his expression transitioned slightly into something Jeldrik could only interpret as pity.
“I’m sorry you found him.” The words sounded unnatural out of Stoltz’s mouth. He did not seem to be used to expressing what went on inside him. “I want to know what he looked like.”
Jeldrik breathed in again and recounted what he had seen two weeks ago. With each word, Stoltz seemed to become smaller in his armchair, his facial muscles seemed to have lost all strength, so that his expression was one of utter exhaustion. When Jeldrik had finished his account, Stoltz shook himself slightly, then got up with a mumbled “I need a minute” and walked out into the hallway and from there into what must be the kitchen. He heard glasses clinking and then a running tap. The cat had stretched itself and sat up, observing without any further movement the stranger on its sofa. Jeldrik put up a hand, but the cat did not seem to care and instead continued to gaze at him. After a few minutes, the pudgy man cam back into the living room with a glass in his hand. Jeldrik was not entirely surprised he had not been offered anything to drink.
“I think I believe you,” Stoltz said, looking out of the window. “You wouldn’t have given me all those details if you were DMCI, I think. Though it doesn’t matter either way, as long as anyone’s looking into this.” He took a sip and put the glass on the little table in front of him. “I know Mr Argon since primary school. We were both rather unpopular with the other kids. So we became friends. But I don’t think our friendship will really help you with this case.” He looked at Jeldrik disapprovingly, as if disappointed in his interrogation skills.
“Okay, but since you were friends for so long, you can probably tell me better than anyone else about what Mr Argon was like. How he got involved with the ABA and if you can think of any reason why someone wanted to see him – dead.”
Stoltz leaned back in his armchair and looked thoughtfully to the ceiling. “He was very polite. Annoyingly so, really. He never misbehaved in school and he never misbehaved as an adult. I told him more than a few times that people won’t respect him with that attitude. But he stoically continued being everyone’s doormat. He didn’t seem to care though.” Stoltz’s look became reminiscent. After a few seconds of silence, he suddenly looked at Jeldrik. “If he wasn’t murdered because he was in the ABA, I have absolutely no idea why else someone would’ve done it. When he joined that organisation, nobody knew about it. And the few who had heard about it, didn’t see it as a threat or anything. So most people in Mr Argon’s life didn’t even know he was an ABA member, I think. I knew, of course, but I didn’t care either. But in the last two years, when the ABA became bigger and politicians in the government spoke up against them and suddenly every mage left and right called them paedophiles, because it was en vogue to say so, Mr Argon received many heinous letters and e-mails. I’d say that makes a hate crime pretty likely, don’t you think?”
Jeldrik nodded slowly. “It’s definitely the most likely theory from all I know.”
“I admit that I also wondered about the intentions of some ABA members. But I knew Mr Argon. He wasn’t a paedophile, he was simply a bit too obsessed with the idea of bonding. He asked me when we were sixteen if I wanted to bond.”
“He did?” Jeldrik was perplex.
“I know what you think, boy. He wasn’t gay or bisexual or whatever they call that stuff nowadays. To him, bonding just meant that he wanted to spend his life with a person, no matter if friend or family or lover. He told me he would bond with his whole family and all his friends if they would only let him. I didn’t let him, by the way. I think he was underestimating the whole bonding thing. But I’d given up a long time ago to talk with him about that subject.” Stoltz took another sip of his water. “He also found out pretty quickly that most people don’t want to bond with every person they know – or that most don’t want to bond with anyone at all, for that matter. I think that’s why he became depressed.”
“He was depressed?” Jeldrik was mildly surprised about how much Stoltz told him without having to ask further questions. The grumpy tone, with which Stoltz had expressed basically everything so far, had disappeared, and he seemed eager to continue.
“He was, he was. Not suicidal, as far as I know. It was the worst in his twenties. He dated one girl after another and asked them about their stance on bonding before he knew their last name. You can imagine that most of them he scared away with that. There was a few that stayed for a few months, but nothing worth writing home about. And then he met Melissa – you know, his ex-wife. But that was already in his early thirties. She wasn’t as bonding-crazy as he was, but she was a hopeless romantic and likely saw his enthusiasm for it as assurance that he wanted to find the woman for life. Which was his intention, I guess, so they fit well to each other. He became better then. Not the same happy bloke he had been in his youth, but better.”
When Stoltz drank again, Jeldrik asked: “And they had a child, right? Mia from the ABA told me. Lara or something?”
“Cara.” A hint of disapproval resurfaced when he said her name, but quickly vanished and was replaced by an almost loving expression. “She’s absolutely adorable. She had her tenth birthday a few weeks ago, I bought a present over. She’s obsessed with wolfs, for some reason. So I bought her a wolf plushie.” He chuckled a bit, then seemed to remember that someone was watching him and became serious again.
“From what you said, I guess Mr Argon and Melissa had a bond?”
“They did. They bonded on their wedding. Like I said, she was a romantic, and Theo could finally bond with someone.”
Jeldrik did not overhear that Stoltz had called his friend by his first name. Although he doubted Stoltz would give Jeldrik the same freedom.
“But Melissa wasn’t too happy about him being an ABA member, and when Cara was born, Theo became even more determined to make a change. The majority of evenings, he wasn’t home and plotted who knows what with his ABA friends. Melissa must’ve felt quite abandoned by him. Very ironic that what he was convinced he did for Cara, kept him from enjoying his family. They had tons of arguments about it. I would know, because he always came to me and complained about how Melissa didn’t understand him. And then he got annoyed with me for suggesting that Melissa just wanted him to be there for her and their daughter.” Stoltz shook his head with a sad expression.
After a moment of considerate silence, Jeldrik, despite thinking it a hopeless question, asked: “Do you happen to have Melissa’s number or address? It would probably help a lot to talk with her, too.”
Stoltz narrowed his eyes as if trying to scan Jeldrik for ulterior motives. Jeldrik tried to keep an innocent expression, and just before he felt like crumbling under Stoltz’s gaze, the man sighed and said: “I guess it’s inevitable.” He stood up, went to a old-fashioned living room cabinet and opened the topmost drawer. He retrieved a small booklet and skimmed through the pages. He came back to Jeldrik and handed him the booklet, which showed an address and a phone number. Jeldrik could not believe his luck, thanked Stoltz and copied the information into his own notebook.
When Stoltz had put away the booklet again and sat in his armchair, Jeldrik asked: “Do you know anything about Mr Argon wanting to bond with his daughter?” Jeldrik asked.
“He did. Didn’t you listen? He got so determined, because he wanted nothing more than bonding with her.”
“But he never did?”
“Not that I know of. I doubt it, honestly. The way I knew him, he would’ve never broken a law. Otherwise he could’ve just shut up about it and bonded with her in secret. You’ve surely heard of those cases of people bonding with their babies?”
“Yes, I did. But honestly, I never knew how that was possible. Don’t you need the other persons consent or the magic doesn’t work?”
“You’re asking the wrong person, if you want all the details. But I remember reading that it’s different with very small children and babies who don’t really fathom the concept of consent. And who understands magic anyway?” Stoltz made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Anyway, I’m very sure Theo never bonded with Cara.”
“Do you think Melissa might have been worried he would?”
“I don’t think she was too worried about that. I mean, she did not agree with him on that topic. But I don’t think she believed he would do anything against her – what are you insinuating anyway?”
“Oh, I wasn’t – I mean, I’m just theorising if –”
“If Melissa murdered him or what?” Stoltz seemed to have returned to his default mood.
“No. Well, I just thought if she was against it, she would not want him to bond with her daughter and would do anything for that not to happen.”
“What a horrible idea of you. They loved each other!”
“I thought she was his ex-wife.”
For a moment, Stoltz did not seem to find any words to express his outrage. “Only since last year. Of course she did not kill the father of her daughter!”
“Listen, I’m pretty sure a lot of parents would move heaven and earth to protect their children from –”
“You listen, boy! I think we’re done here. If your sleuthing results in suspecting innocent people of sensational ideas of a crime, then I don’t think you’re the right person for this.” Stoltz rose angrily from his armchair, which was less threatening than his cat, which had started hissing at him as if it understood what was going on. Jeldrik rose, too, pocketed his phone and went around the sofa table.
“I’m sorry if I upset you, Mr Stoltz. I don’t even think it’s likely that –”
“Just leave. Shoo!” Stoltz made a gesture as if pushing Jeldrik out of the door. Jeldrik shook his head, his anger now boiling up, too. He had hardly time to grab his shoes as Stoltz pushed him out of the apartment.
“And if I find out you harassed Melissa or accused her of anything, you can be sure that the DMCI and MMS and everyone else will hear about your activities!”
“Unbelievable,” Jeldrik muttered, slipping into his shoes. “Thanks for your hospitality.” He received an answer in form of a slamming door. He stood in the corridor for a while, trying to grasp what had just happened, then started his way down the stairs, his thoughts on what Anteo would say the next day when he told him what had happened.
