Wings of Justice (City of Light Book 1) Page 13
Narius Manin had been murdered a week before I received my Alula. The man was a carpenter known for crafting barrels and stout working surfaces for other artisans. He had been killed when the murderer pushed bamboo stakes through his eyes and into his brain. Narius worked with eight assistants, but they had all been drinking at a local tavern and had been waiting for their boss to join them.
I almost stopped mid-flight as soon as I finished thinking about Narius. Besides being craftsmen and owners, the victims had something else in common.
They had all dismissed their apprentices and workers for the night. Why?
I thought about their industries. Save for Rafa, they all crafted some sort of container or way to carry items.
A hunch formed in my head, and I actually did pause my flight. I hung a few hundred feet over the city, and a soft breeze caressed my cheeks. Ash's leads were already memorized, but I pulled my notebook from my pocket anyway to look at the names on the flapping paper. The handsome criminal had given me four men with jobs visiting business owners in my part of the city. Either to retrieve waste, deliver alcohol, perform guard duties, or collect taxes. The victims had expected to meet with someone, and I bet that if I investigated their shops, I would find that each of the deceased had an abundance of inventory stashed somewhere.
The victims dismissed their staff because they wanted to sell those goods under the table. Either they didn't want to be taxed on them or they didn't want anyone to know that they sold them. Perhaps my deduction was incorrect, but the circumstances made me think these people were all involved with the strange liquid that I found in Garon's shipyard.
What about Dust? What about Ash? The first man's name had been in the ledger, but Ash warned me that investigating any of the leads I thought I had would probably end with my death. What was the relationship between the two men? From the conversation I had overheard at the blacksmith's, I guessed that the two were familiar with each other.
One problem at a time, Anelia.
I angled my body through the sky and plummeted toward the Blue Swill tavern. I'd been there once with my brother and Severa, but we didn't like the atmosphere as much as Juliana's restaurant. I landed at the doorstep of the white-painted adobe building and pushed open the thickly banded bamboo door. A flood of hurricane-like sound spilled from inside, and I pushed against the torrent and waded through the doorway.
The inside was the same as I recalled, meaning that it looked almost exactly like every other tavern one would find in the twenty or teen levels. It was filled with craftsmen and a few ranchers. Each group of tables attempted to shout their conversation over each other, but as soon as I closed the door behind me, the colloquy died suddenly, and I felt sixty pairs of eyes turn to me.
The silence was almost more of a surprise than the torrent of noise, and my ears rang. The faces in the tavern didn't look angry, but their expressions made me think that no Potentia may ever have set foot inside the place. If that was the case, then I thought it was a shame. Most of the communities would gather nightly around various taverns or restaurants to eat and socialize. If my sisters did not visit these places regularly, then the chances were that they were not building a good relationship with the citizens they had sworn to protect.
"Good evening, citizens. I am looking for a Balabus Cotin. Is he here?" Their attention made me nervous, but I forced my voice to be strong, and I asked the question with a smile on my face.
The crowd looked toward a corner of the bar. I half expected one of the men sitting there to stand up and declare that he was Balabus, but the expression on the faces of the patrons made me think that they were somewhat surprised that he wasn't sitting at the bar.
"He hasn't come in yet, Potentia," said the barkeeper. He had a shaved head and a tattoo of wings on his muscular left forearm. I would have guessed that the man was a miner from his broad shoulders and lack of a tan.
"Are you the owner?" I asked as I stepped across the room toward him.
"Yes ma'am," he answered as he bowed his shaved head slightly.
"I would like to ask you some questions."
"We can step into the back, ma'am." He nodded his head again.
"That is okay. We can speak over here." I gestured for him to step out from behind the bar and stand next to me in the corner by the door leading to his rear storage room. I put my back against the exit so that I could face the man and still see the front entrance of the tavern. This was where a wingmate would have been helpful. If I had stepped into the back with this man, chances were that someone from the tavern would run out the door and alert Balabus that we were looking for him. Fallon could have tailed that person to wherever our suspect was hiding.
"What is your name, citizen?" I asked. The conversation in the Blue Swill had resumed, but the volume was reduced to whispers. I could tell that the patrons at the bar were leaning toward us in an attempt to eavesdrop.
"Rellet Cotin, ma'am," he answered as he wiped his hands with a dishtowel. The man's eyes darted between my face, my Alula, and the hilt of my rapier.
"Cotin?" I asked.
"Yes, ma'am. Balabus is my cousin."
"I see. How often does he eat here?"
"Pretty much every night. I give him a discount since he is family." Rellet laughed nervously and ran his right hand over his scalp. "Is he in any sort of trouble?"
"When was the last time you saw him?" I asked.
"Last night. He used the shower in the back and then came in to eat about this time. He's been sweet on a leather worker's apprentice, and they've been talking at the bar until I close up every night. She is already here." Rellet nodded his head toward the end of the bar farthest from me, and I saw a petite blonde woman sitting there.
The girl was staring at us intently, and when I turned my eyes toward her, I saw her face whiten, and she glanced at her beer.
"Shower?" I asked the tattooed man.
"Yes, he stinks of shit, piss, and garbage when he finishes his duties. It is a hard job, collecting all the waste from the low thirties and then carting it down to level one. My cousin loves it though, and the pay is good. He can take a shower at the compost location, but then he has to hike back up twenty levels and gets all sweaty again. I think he is going to ask that girl to marry him, and he doesn't want to stink when he talks to her."
"Was he here the night before last?" I asked. I was starting to feel as if I could take Balabus off the suspect list.
"Yes, ma'am. I can't actually recall the last time he wasn't here."
"Have you noticed any change in his behavior in the last few months, or last few weeks?"
"Haha," he laughed. "Meeting a girl will change a man. He's less of an asshole now." Rellet shrugged his shoulders, and I could tell that the man was starting to become more comfortable talking to me.
"Where does he live?"
"On the twenty fifth. He rents a room over a cobbler's shop. It is a small place, and he doesn't have a shower there. Potentia, please, can you tell me if he is in trouble?"
"I only wanted to question him about his whereabouts for the last few nights. Can you show me this shower?" I was almost certain that Balabus was innocent of the killings, but I thought that I'd do due diligence and investigate the shower. If Rellet's cousin was the murderer, then there might be some blood or other evidence.
"Sure, it is back here." The man gestured with a wide hand to the door I stood behind.
"After you please," I said as I stepped away from my spot to follow the man. I was going to miss anyone who’d run out of the tavern, but I felt confident that Balabus wasn't guilty of anything more than courting a pretty girl.
"It is here. Sorry it isn't very clean." Rellet took me through his kitchen, which actually was surprisingly clean, through a storage room, and into a side area where I saw a tiled tub with a bamboo shower bucket suspended overhead. There was a rope one could pull to tip the bucket, which would enable water to flow down a spout and onto anyone in the tub.
The tub w
as dirty, but not entirely disgusting. There was a closed window on the far wall, and I pointed to it without speaking. Rellet followed my instructions and opened the shutters. I leaned down into the tub, but besides a bunch of dirt that smelled faintly of feces to my sensitive nose, I didn't see any blood.
"When you see your cousin, you can let him know that I came in looking for him, but that you were able to answer the questions. I might come ask him a few more, but he doesn't need to worry about anything."
"I understand, Potentia."
"Thank you for your time, can I exit out this door?"
"Yes." He nodded and then moved to unlock it for me.
"Have a nice night," I said as I walked out into the orange light of the evening.
"I will. I hope you find who you are looking for."
I jumped in the air, and my Alula transformed into feathers. A few seconds later, I floated high in the sky over the city again. It was only one lead of the four that Ash had given me, so I shouldn't have been disappointed that Balabus wasn't the murderer, but I couldn't ignore the feeling that Ash may have given me the names to waste my time. What would I do when I finished investigating the three other suspects and found that they all had alibis?
I pivoted on my wings and glanced toward my territory. Part of me wanted to return to my nest and explain my situation to Captain Ocellina, but it was evening now, and she had probably gone home for the night. What would I even tell her? The day had been a series of mistakes and missteps. It would look even worse for me if I explained that I was chasing after leads provided by someone who had tried to kill me. No, I would finish digging into the information that Ash provided and then follow up with the captain and Fallon tomorrow morning during our briefing.
That gave me roughly twelve hours to investigate Ash's list. I could do that easily, even without Fallon. I pulled the notebook out of my pocket once again to double check my memory. Then I flew toward where Restina's distillery was located.
Chapter 14
The Restina distillery was one of the largest buildings in my nest's territory. It would have been less expensive for them to have their location on a lower floor, but transporting their beer, moonshine, whiskey, mead, and wine up Petrasada's steep ramps was significantly riskier, so most sanctioned distilleries tended to base their brewing operations close to the levels where they sold their inventory.
The building was made of stone brick painted a light peach color. The roof was green tile the color of new grass, and I saw that there were still plenty of workers loading barrels of beer onto donkey carts. People needed to eat, and most preferred alcohol to wash the meal down with.
The group of workers stopped their tasks when I landed next to them. I saw fear flash through their eyes, and it made me sigh. I wanted to protect these people, not intimidate them.
"Good evening," I said as I smiled to the group of four men.
"Good evening, Potentia," the largest of the men said as he held his hand up to his eyes.
I stood with my back to the low suns, and I guessed that he couldn't see me without shading his face, so I stepped around the side of the cart.
"I am looking for--" I stopped speaking when a shadow fell over us. We glanced up, and I fought back a sigh of frustration.
Fallon landed next to me.
The woman's face was set with displeasure, and she shook her head to pull the blonde bangs from her face. We stared at each other for a second, and then she crossed her arms.
"What were you going to ask them?" she asked as her eyes narrowed.
"I'm looking for Calter Montigar," I said after I turned to the men. My heart pounded in my chest, and I wondered why Fallon was here. Had she heard about my run in with Ash? Did she know about my narrow escape from Dust?
"He is out on deliveries," the worker said.
"Do you know when he'll get back?" Fallon asked, much to my surprise.
"Should be back anytime now. Or in the next hour. Sometimes he gets caught up talking to customers."
"Do you have a map of his route?" I asked.
"Karmane does inside. She is the distribution manager. Tall woman with long gray hair."
"Thank you citizen, we will go speak with her." Fallon smiled at the man and then gestured with her head for me to follow her.
"Why are you here?" she asked when we had stepped a few dozen feet away from the workers.
"I'm following a lead," I said.
"What lead?" she asked.
"Do you even care? You left me at the farmhouse." The angry words poured from my mouth, and I regretted saying them almost immediately.
"I care because you were right about the wagon."
"Huh?" I asked her. I doubted I could hide my surprise.
"I flew around to some of the nearby farmhouses and talked to the workers. No one recalled seeing any wagons heading from the lake. I was preparing to fly back to the city and tell the captain about how useless you are, but I saw a group of kids heading back from the lake. They said that they had seen a group of twenty men following behind a wagon that cut through the field to the farmhouse."
"Really?" I couldn't believe what my wingmate was telling me. Actually, I could believe it, because I knew that the wagon traveled that way, but I had given up hope that Fallon would find any proof.
"Yes, so I went back to the farmhouse and searched again. I didn't find anything in the barn, but I noticed a piece of paper wrapped around a fence post outside." The blonde woman pulled out the folded piece of paper and handed it to me.
"This is an invoice from Restina to Rafa Manus," I stated the obvious as my eyes took in the paper. It felt somewhat damp in my hand, and I raised it to my nose to inhale the scent of the lake.
"Yes. I thought it was weird that we found it all the way down at the farmhouse. That is a three hour or more walk," Fallon sighed.
"So you came here to investigate."
"Now it is your turn, pigeon. Why are you here?"
I considered telling Fallon the truth about the last four hours, but I doubted that the woman would believe me. If anything, she might decide that these leads were useless if I told her that Ash had given them to me. No, the only person in my sisterhood who I knew would take my statement seriously and send a group to investigate the monsters I had discovered was the captain. I could wait to tell her everything.
"I went to speak with Rafa's widow. She gave me the names of men who her husband had seen in the last two weeks outside of his usual schedule. All four of them have occupations that could have put them in contact with any of the other victims." It felt terrible to lie, especially to my wingmate, but I knew the alternative would not lead us anywhere productive. "I planned on investigating them myself and then following up with you in the morning." When I finished speaking, the woman nodded.
"Seems like too much of a coincidence that we are both here. Let's go talk to Karmane and get a list of Calter's customers." She increased her pace, and I let out a slow breath of nervous energy when we reached the roofed part of the warehouse.
We spotted the gray-haired woman at the far side of the building. She was standing over a dozen barrels and making marks in a thick ledger. As soon as we entered the covered part of the building, my nose was embraced by the sweet and bitter smells of beer, whiskey, and poplar wood. The woman glanced up from her writing as we approached, looked back at her book, and then glanced back to us in surprise.
"How can I help you, Potentia?"
"We are looking for Calter Montigar. The workers outside said he was out on deliveries, but they indicated that you might have a list of his customers," I said.
"Is he in trouble?" she asked with her eyes wide. The woman had the same hardness to her features that Fallon possessed.
"No, we just wish to ask him some questions. Can you give us his customer list?" Fallon asked. Her voice had taken on the gentle tonality that I heard her use with the widow Manus.
"Yes, of course. It is in my office. Please follow me."
"W
as Rafa Manus one of his customers?" I asked as we walked toward Karmane's office.
"Yes. It is quite unfortunate. I'd met Rafa many times. He was a nice man and a long-time customer of ours."
"Who provides your glassware?" Fallon asked as we passed a dozen shelves stacked with sealed bottles of whiskey.
"We get them from craftsman all over the city," the gray-haired woman answered over her shoulder.
"Was Aetius Colo one of your suppliers?" Fallon asked.
"Yes, that was unfortunate as well. You don't suspect Calter do you?" the woman reached a bamboo door and held it open for us. Fallon walked in before me without any concern, and I forced the memory of the widow Manus locking me in the cellar down into my stomach before I followed my wingmate inside.
"We are questioning anyone who had contact with the victims," I said.
"Was Narius Manin one of your suppliers?" Fallon asked while Karmane pulled out a drawer of her desk.
"Yes, he was. He supplied us with most of the shelving, and with our larger beer barrels." The gray-haired woman frowned as she spoke.
"How about Tronique Ballator?" I asked, and I saw Fallon nod at my question.
"Yes. He helped us build and maintain most of our distilleries."
"Valteera Royar?" I asked.
"Yes," Karmane sighed. "She made some of the vats for our wine and mash."
"Quentin Eamat?" Fallon asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, He made some of our bottle satchels." The woman shook her long hair. "Listen, I can understand your line of questioning, but we have over forty suppliers just for raw brewing components. We have another thirty for our equipment. If you think Calter has something to do with this, well, you are wrong. He has no contact with any of our suppliers. He just delivers orders and makes sure our customers are happy."
"Was he working here two nights ago?" Fallon asked.