A Murder in Morrowind 9

A Chase by Night

Deerkethus was silent as we stalked the streets of Balmora. Rain drained down the gutters like rapids, rushing past us and flowing out into the river Odai. Night had fallen on Balmora and the streets were thronged with people, despite the rain. I could tell that the slave’s death had affected him, but I said nothing. What could I say to comfort someone whose station I couldn’t even fathom? It had been a day since that encounter happened, and I sensed that his sadness had not diminished.

During that time we had dried ourselves and made our reports. He and I had even shared drinks at my apartment in the city. We had grown closer in that space, and I found myself rather fond of my companion. His was a life of duty and honor. He was utterly devoted to his master and to the ideals of the Dunmer state. Despite myself, I had decided that was a much more pleasant fellow that I had originally decided. Then again, when someone saves your life you tend to think rather well of them too.

My thoughts pulled back to the present as I felt in my pocket the dagger recovered from the slave. I was right in my initial assessment. This was a unique dagger gifted to those of the Blades who had served for more than ten years. It was a beautiful weapon; rippled steel shone brilliantly in the light with a carved ebony hilt in the shape of a snarling dragon. Absolutely unique except for one fact. The dagger was gifted in pairs. Which meant that somewhere, there was another dagger belonging to Cassius that waited to be discovered.

Another mystery lay with the blade as well. The blade was covered in blood, and my inspection had revealed on the tip of blade, right where it would’ve met bone, was a chip where the dagger had turned. But my inspection had found no trace of poison or acid coating the blade. What’s more is the fact that the slave couldn’t have killed him as that would’ve resulted in her instant death.

So Deerkethus and I had decided to inspect Cassius’s apartment one more time before retiring for the night. Our original inspection had been brief and to the point, as apparently Cassius’s only used the apartment for sleeping. While we had found nothing the first time, now we had something to look for specifically.

“I’m sorry Inquisitor.” Deerkethus voiced spooked me as we pushed past an amorous couple. I turned my head in surprise at his apology. Not expected from him, but I nodded in acknowledgment. I said nothing and continued to push through the crowd.

“It was most uncouth of me to act that way.” He toyed with a gold necklace around his neck as we walked, “And the tail swipe. That must’ve hurt.”

“It’s not a problem.” I said and showed him my injured thumb, “I’d rather come off with a bandaged thumb than have my guts spilled in that place. The Empire makes those daggers sharp!”

“Nonetheless,” He said and walked around a drunken Nord, “I feel that my behavior was uncalled for. A constable of Balmora should be made of sterner stuff.”

“Don’t apologize,” I shrugged and ignored the calls of several nearby prostitutes, “You saved my life and tried to save a child. Despite her place in our investigation, she didn’t deserve…that…”

“She was no murderer Inquisitor,” He said, “That child reacted out of fear and nothing else. She forgot the enchantments. She…”

“I understand that Deerkethus,” I said and ducked my head under a low sign, “But understand that no one is eliminated as a suspect until the killer is found. When all suspects have been eliminated then the remaining suspect, no matter how unlikely, must be killer.”

“Is that your advice as Inquisitor?” He said.

“That’s my advice as a friend,” I said as we stopped under a balcony, not far from the apartment. “And call me Gan.”

“Gan,” He said and smiled and I was glad to hear that all remorsefulness had been dispelled from his voice.

I didn’t want to admit it, but this Argonian had earned my respect. He was steadfast in his duties and loyal to a fault. I considered putting in a letter to my superiors in Cyrodill asking to have him released but I knew that politics wouldn’t allow it. Besides, anything I ask of them would surely be denied out of principle. Perhaps if I asked the opposite? Is it possible to ask that someone be more enslaved?

We were underneath a balcony on the street that Cassius’s apartment lay. Across the street it laid on the second story above the apartment of some married couple. The street that divided us was filled with nighthawks, drunks, addicts, and the various scum that filled the Balmora nightlife. A Dunmer prostitute caught my eye and she leaned forward as if to straighten her stockings; her loose shift fell forward revealing one grayish-blue breast and she winked seductively.

“Focus Gan focus,” I averted my eyes, “Don’t think about long it’s been.”

It was Deerkethus who brought me back to the present. I noticed that his eyes were up and focused into narrow slits, bringing up the image of a dragon’s eyes. They were intensely focused on the window of Cassius’s apartment. I followed them and saw nothing, not even the slight movement of the shades betrayed anything inside. The place had been cordoned off and locked tight. Only Deerkethus had the key to go inside.

“There was a light inside Gan,” He said, “Very brief, a small torch perhaps, but there.”

I nodded and instantly we were pushing through the crowd; I bowled over a Khajit who hissed and bared his fangs and Deerkethus leaped over the head of a stooping Wood Elf. Within seconds our boots were pounding against the stairs and we were before the door.

He and I stopped and listened closely for any rattling or shifting around inside. Nothing. I tried my best to peek inside past the curtains, but the rooms was dark and nothing could be seen. I turned instead to the door and noted the lock; it was covered in scratches, as if an unsteady hand had recently tried picking it. Deerkethus looked at me and I knew that he had seen it too.

From his neck he produced a key chain with the key to the apartment attached. He inserted the key into the lock and began to turn it. As it turned a very audible click was produced. From inside there was a shifting and something banged, hard, inside. Deerkethus’s pupils dilated instinctually and he flung the door open.

We both rushed forward in a mad dash to confront whoever or whatever was inside. A dark bundle of cloth tried hurtling past us and I stuck out a single arm and clotheslined the passing individual. Deerkethus opened his mouth in a lizard hiss and grasped the perpetrator around the legs, holding tight in a bear-hug that would never let go. I pulled my gladius out, a flash of silver in the moonlight streaming in and I pulled back the hood of the intruder.

It was Faerdae Hircite, alone in a place that he had no business being.

We took him and bound him roughly, not caring if we hurt him in the meantime. I observed from his whimpering whenever we touch his knee that it had not healed properly. No doubt he couldn’t afford a decent healer. I knew then that his days of smuggling were at an end. How can a smuggler move goods if he could barely move himself? The Elf had no craft nor guile to aid him in case of disablement. His career was over.

Deerkethus sat him down on a nearby bench and I chose a chair to sit opposite of him. I studied him for a moment, just to unnerve him, and began.

“What are you doing here?”

He glared for a moment and glanced at Deerkethus, who bared his sharp lizard teeth. He got the message.

“I was returning it.” He said and nodded towards a disheveled shelf, “The knife. It’s over there.”

Deerkethus and I looked at each other sharply and he went over to the shelf. After a bit of picking around he produced the blade in question. No doubt about it, this was the dagger’s twin. This one was exactly the same in every detail, right down to the jewels set into the dragon’s eyes.

I noticed immediately several things about the blade. I turned towards the Elf and held it out for him to see.

“I suppose I’ll ask the obvious first.” I said, “How did you come to acquire this.”

“I acquired them.” Faerdae sighed, “Not too long ago in a trade with the Imperial.”

“For what?” I asked.

“I don’t remember.” He said plainly and was met with a smart backhand from Deerkethus. I grimaced and was thankful that no blood was shed, though Deerkethus no doubt pulled his hit.

“I traded them for…can you promise me immunity?” He spat and Deerkethus nodded, “I traded them to Cassius for certain goods.”

“Such as?”

“Goods...” He refused to answer and his eyes darted nervously.

“You brew skooma!” It was not a question. The Elf shook his head and Deerkethus roared, “Don’t you deny it!”

The Elf cowered and answered, “Fine, I brew it!”

I held out a hand in mock reassurance, as if the calm Deerkethus.

“Why do you only have one of the daggers?” I asked.

“The night I sold the slave, I took a dagger with me to the deal, as protection.” He confessed, “When I returned, I noticed it was gone. I only assumed it was stolen. But when I heard a rumor that the dagger’s twin was found with the slave I…”

“You knew the trail would lead back to you, so you decided to return its twin before we found it.” I said. It was all coming together. “When the victim was found there was a letter with him. Addressing an individual named FH to…give them back…as I say. Was that to you?”

“No! At least I don’t think so…” He said thoughtfully, “The skooma I gave him was probably a little…off…He might’ve been a bit…upset. But it was a fair trade!”

“Who wouldn’t be upset?” Deerkethus muttered.

“Then tell me, Elf.” I inquired, “Did you sell the slave to him?”

“I…” Faerdae hesitated, “I can’t be sure. He wanted to purchase her as you say but he couldn’t openly. Imperial law and all. Later I received a letter that instructed me to sell the slave to a cloaked individual in that alley. So that night I went to the alleyway and I sold her to a gentleman who kept his face hidden. I can only assume it was Cassius, but I never actually saw his face. But he was the only one that ever offered me any serious cash for her.”

“And what about your story before? About never selling to Imperials!?”

“I…I lied.” He admitted and his eyes darted between us. He was being particularly forthcoming, but a smashed knee and the threat of life in a Dunmer prison would do that to you.

“Are you sure the letter came from Cassius?”

“Not really. It was unsigned. But like I said, he was the only one to ever offer me a decent amount. Three hundred Septims. I just sort of assumed it was Cassius.”

“Didn’t matter who it was, when you had your money to make?” Deerkethus asked. I could see Deerkethus snarling. He was clearly disgusted by the Elf’s lack of compassion for slaves.

“I noticed something peculiar about this blade.” I changed the subject, “The end has a chip in it. Any idea of how that happened?”

“It came like that!” He cried, “I swear I’ve never used it.”

I didn’t believe him. No way would a member of the Blades allow such a gift to come to harm. No way. But in the back of my mind I thought, “What member of the Blades would do the things Cassius’s had done?”

“You’re a messy individual Faerdae,” I looked his dirty clothes up and down, “But this blade is very clean. Care to explain?”

“I was afraid you’d be able to find something that linked it to me. So I…cleaned it…” He said and his eyes darted nervously, “I swear that is the truth.”

Deerkethus rolled his eyes and I agreed. If there had been any poison on this blade it was no doubt cleaned off now. I stood up and dusted my trousers and motioned to the guard who had just appeared in the doorway. Our commotion had attracted attention and I could see a crowd gathered outside on the street.

“Faerdae Hircite,” I cleared my throat, “You are under arrest under suspicion of murder, for illegal sale of skooma and slaves to an Imperial Official, and for crimes against the Empire.”

“You promised me immunity!” He cried, “I didn’t murder him I swear! I just sold him the slave and left, that’s all!”

“Suspicion of murder.” I clarified, “And the Constable promised you immunity, not I.”

“Wait!” He cried again as he was picked up roughly by his arms, “I think I know who killed him! I’m innocent I swear, I’m innocent!!!”

Deerkethus and I both stopped at that. I studied Faerdae’s face closely; an arrested man was liable to say anything. But Faerdae was near hysterics; I had never seen an elf so close to wetting himself. I was ready to close the book on this one, but my damned sense of duty prevented me from doing so. While I was skeptical, I was willing to hear him out. I nodded at him to go on.

“The slave must’ve done it!” He yelled and struggled with the guard, “That little bitch must’ve stolen my dagger!”

“She was wearing slave shackles.” I said dryly. “The enchantment was still in effect.”

“Shackles?” He was nearly in tears, “But she didn’t have shackles! She was the killer, that’s the only solution!”

“No shackles-“

“-You accuse a dead child!?” Deerkethus interrupted me. His claws were out and his eyes were wild with indignation. I knew that any further and Deerkethus would be the next slave to be die. I held him back with both hands and looked to the elf accusingly.

“Regardless,” Faerdae said, “W-What about the Tong!?”

“Enough!” I roared now too, my patience at an end. He was trying to pin this on anyone he could think of.

“Please sera!” He cried and struggled with the last of his strength, “He made enemies with the Tong I know! He always asked me if I had information on them! Please!! They are the killers I swear! Please sera!!!”

“Now you try to tell us the Tong bought a slave and made her kill him!?” Deerkethus crowed.

“No I swear…I…I must’ve sold the slave to a different man. Yes! I did! I don’t sell to Imperials, I sold him to-“

“-Liar!!!” Deerkethus cut him off with a sharp word. “You’ll do anything to save your own skin. You’ve already admitted to selling to him!”

“I’ve heard enough from you! Take him away!” I cried and motioned to the guard in waiting.

The town guard threw a bag over his head and with neck-cutting motion from Deerkethus he was hauled off, kicking and screaming. I looked at Deerkethus for confirmation.

“Absolutely preposterous,” He huffed, “The slave is no suspect and he knows it. I tell you now Gan that he is our killer.”

“A killer with no evidence beyond his place at the crime scene.” I pondered. “Are you sure you’re not willing his guilt?”

“He had the motive.” Deerkethus said, “No doubt the letter was addressed to him. Cassius said, give them back, yes? And we know that he was there, and that he didn’t come back right away like he said.”

“A motive is not evidence of murder friend,” I countered, “Also, didn’t a few of the witnesses mention that the slave indeed was wearing only robe bindings and not the shackles we found her with?”

“Indeed serjo, but perhaps he put them on later?"

“Perhaps, but another problem is the money we found…”

“The money sera?”

“Faerdae mentioned he sold the slave for three-hundred. Why then was a bag totaling five hundred found nearby? If Faerdae had killed him, why didn’t he take the money before escaping?”

“Perhaps he had dropped it in his haste?”

“Possible. But something about that just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“You believe that swit?” Deerkethus said incredulously.

“No no…but something about this seems too easy,” I decided, “Faerdae seems too obvious a suspect. I do believe it’s time we paid the Tong a visit.”

“Inquisitor, Gan,” He replied, “I disagree whole-heartily. But you’ve been a friend when most would treat me as a slave. Where you go, I go. I’m with you all the way friend.”

Deerkethus clapped my shoulder and then solemnly held out a scaly hand. Just two days I would’ve spit in it before shaking it. But he had saved my life and proven himself a capable individual. I took his hand gladly and shook it.

“Tomorrow morning Deerkethus,” I said, “We end this once and for all.”