2

I'm always glad to be a gag that plugs the throats of noble houses, even if they bite their elbows! This time the Emperor is on my side!

– And yet, involve knowledgeable people from KGM. At the faculty of military criminology, they say, another nugget has appeared. If de Moranjac was killed by witchcraft, I want to know how it happened.

‘I daresay our mages can do it too, my thane,’ said Aberlein.

“Pride is a crutch for the insecure, my friend. This is Monsieur de Moranjac's office, as far as I remember?

I pointed to the sealed door.

“Yes, my thane. We decided that while documents are kept there that could turn out to be secret or simply very important, it is worth restricting access to them until the appropriate order.

- Who ordered?

“Chief Inspector Wolfeld, my thane.

- Old dog. You have received the appropriate order. My. “I tore off the signal tapes and entered. No corpses were found in the office, as well as in the small library adjacent to it.

Perfect order reigns on a huge expensive writing desk. The pedantic de Moranjak adored this state of his living space, although in my eyes mockery of the trees in the garden is still difficult to justify. I ran my gloved finger across the table top, rummaged through the drawers of the desk, secretary and desk, ran my eyes over the public prosecutor's filing cabinet.

The deceased had a lupsova [From fr . loup - "wolf".] grip, he led a dozen complex and very high-profile cases, bringing down the hammer of justice on the heads of very famous people. Corrupt politicians, officials taking bribes, stealing members of the municipality. The brave biting bulldog at the throat of corruption was a frequent guest in their nightmares. Silvio de Moranjak, no matter how unpleasant he was to me during his lifetime, managed to gather an enviable collection of influential and well-born enemies, survived three assassination attempts and hid a bunch of people in the hospitable chambers of the Skull-on-the-Bone.

“Corruption in the Coven of Magicians, corruption in the tax office, corruption in customs, wow, what a thick folder! Corruption… Oh! Good Monsieur de Moranjak stretched his hands to the throat of Scoalt Yard too! Many will celebrate the day of his death as a personal little holiday!

- Don't you think...

“Calm down, Inspector, forgive the Thane for his fondness for stupid allusions. De Moranjac wanted to get close to you, but you caught the rats before he could stir up a scandal. In particular, do you remember the case when the superintendent of the evidence repository was caught by the hand? The guy was selling weed-ant, laughing stones and bloody hiccup powder, which were supposed to be burned, to street vendors ... And what is this? Do you know what it is, Aberlein?

“I have no idea, my thane.

I was interested in an oblong, thick leaf with an elegant print, which indicated the name of the Starkrar Museum of True Arts, hours and days of operation.

“This is a ticket to an exhibition dedicated to the recent victories in… in Maldize. The exhibits on display are the Maldese crown jewels and a sacred statue of a god. Which god is not specified. Interesting.

“Sorry, tan, but I don’t understand…”

There was noise in the hallway.

- What's going on here?!

“Good night, Chief Inspector. I greeted the newcomer without turning around and continued to look through the folders with the accuser's grandiose plans for the future.

- Aberlein! Wolfeld bucked, ignoring me. “In the name of all the martyrs, how dare you disobey my order?!

Sir, I don't...

“It was I who ordered the door to be opened. Authorizations attached. Inspector, it should be crystal clear to you how important the contents of these papers can be in establishing a motive for the murder.

“Ah, you have already determined that this is a murder!” Wolfeld pulled off his hat and knocked off a handful of melted snow. “I don't like your methods, Thane el'Moria, and your habit of interfering in Scoalt Yard business!

– My methods? What's wrong with them? Everyone must serve the Empire and the Emperor to the best of their ability. And no one told me anything about the methods. Besides, if not for the will of the Emperor, I would now be sleeping peacefully in my bed, and would not have the real pleasure of talking with you.

“Do not cover up your irrepressible and inappropriate desire to sip a new portion of glory with the desire of the monarch to enforce the letter of the law!”

“Release me from these unworthy accusations, Mr. Inspector.

- Chief Inspector!

- Yes Yes. Who cares! I smiled disdainfully.

"I know what's on your mind, el'Moria!" I smelled the gust of his anger. - You just have to expose honest and conscientious servants of the law as stupid clumsies and buffoons! Undermine Scoalt Yard! I admit that you really believe that you are benefiting, but in fact, your activity, except for sabotage, cannot be called in any way, that Supreme Interrogator!

I blinked quickly.

- First of all, please remove your muzzle and do not hang over, Inspector, you smell like a dog. Secondly, of the two of us, I rather know what you are thinking, and not vice versa. This is an indisputable fact. Thirdly, you have much more opportunities to make colleagues look like jesters, Inspector, there are no means against the gift of nature. Do not interfere with work, and then, perhaps, you will hear my conclusions among those present, and not read in the reports after the case is closed!

The hair on his muzzle fluttered, thin black stripes, replacing the lips, spread out, revealing a full set of incisors and fangs, the pupils trembled, dilated, as before an attack. It wasn't that I believed that he would really rush, but just in case I tried to remember if he had taken a revolver with him. In any case, as long as Sebastina is around, I can feel safe. Inspector Jaro Wolfeld, lups in the service of the law, silently turned on his paws and carried his powerful hunched carcass out, growling at those around him. Mother wolf. And vindictive too.

About five years ago, when I was only a senior interrogator, I managed to get around him in a sensational case with dead courtesans that surfaced in the waters of Estra. Skoalt Yard entrusted the case to Wolfeld. The chief inspector dug his nose into the ground, but in the wrong direction. While he was looking for a serial killer who strangled corrupt girls, I took the counterfeiters' underground hideout by the throat. Two weeks before the dead women appeared in Estra, a Treasury convoy carrying new dies for printing presses from the foundry was robbed. Scoalt Yard flooded Starkrar with constables, checking everything and everything, while the counterfeiters worked. Courtesans were used as couriers, they fastened bags with fake money in the form of stomachs under their dresses and sent them to the city. It never occurred to any law enforcement officer to look under the dresses of pregnant whores! Well, after use, it was much more profitable and cheaper to let the couriers go on their last voyage than to pay them, and then be afraid that these stupid chickens would shake up too much. I understood this, but Wolffeld did not. As a result, after the retirement of the venerable Thane Tarzin el'Reko, the imperial seal fell under my name in the appointment of the Supreme Interrogator, and Wolfeld still did not receive a commissar. To each his own.

Toomes and Aberlein breathed a sigh of relief. Do not relax, my friends, the boss will still give you a scolding.

“Let’s go back to the dining room, I have a certain picture.

I took a stationary desktop set from the tabletop: a business card holder, a clock mechanism, a recess for an inkwell, a quill cylinder, a recess with a pen sharpening knife. All this on one beautiful wooden stand.

- It will do. Sebastina, carry me.

- I'm listening.

Returning to the dining room, I once again examined everything and made sure that nothing was missing.

- Attention please! I took the desk set from Sebastina and placed it on the mantelpiece. “First of all, it’s definitely murder. This is my official conclusion, which will be entered into the preliminary records of the case and the protocol of the search of the crime scene. It all happened three or four days ago. Obviously during lunch. This is indicated by the condition of the bodies, clock mechanisms and a characteristic smell. In the house there is a large grandfather clock manufactured by Flourish and Fox, excellent, it should be noted, in my home there are also products of this company. One factory is enough not for a day or two, but for sixteen days, but by the end of this period, the spring begins to fail, and the hands fall behind, because the watch usually starts three or four days earlier. An ordinary Flourish and Fox table clock is wound once a day. All you can see that the grandfather clock is already a few hours behind, will soon rise completely. Four days ago they were not brought. The small clock, both the mantel clock and the one from the deceased's study, froze before reaching twelve. All this you yourself could find out without lifting me out of bed. I gazed longingly into the lightening night outside the window. “I have no doubt that the victims died at the same time. Monsieur de Moranjac's daughters and his son perished in animal horror, while he himself... Sebastina, if you please. She lifted Silvio's head, holding it by the temples with her fingers. - He expired in a completely calm mood. Madame de Moranjac also left us quite quietly and painlessly. Sebastian. before reaching twelve. All this you yourself could find out without lifting me out of bed. I gazed longingly into the lightening night outside the window. “I have no doubt that the victims died at the same time. Monsieur de Moranjac's daughters and his son perished in animal horror, while he himself... Sebastina, if you please. She lifted Silvio's head, holding it by the temples with her fingers. - He expired in a completely calm mood. Madame de Moranjac also left us quite quietly and painlessly. Sebastian. before reaching twelve. All this you yourself could find out without lifting me out of bed. I gazed longingly into the lightening night outside the window. “I have no doubt that the victims died at the same time. Monsieur de Moranjac's daughters and his son perished in animal horror, while he himself... Sebastina, if you please. She lifted Silvio's head, holding it by the temples with her fingers. - He expired in a completely calm mood. Madame de Moranjac also left us quite quietly and painlessly. Sebastian. holding her fingers by the temples. - He expired in a completely calm mood. Madame de Moranjac also left us quite quietly and painlessly. Sebastian. holding her fingers by the temples. - He expired in a completely calm mood. Madame de Moranjac also left us quite quietly and painlessly. Sebastian.

With a calmness that made everyone present twitch, my maid lifted the head of the deceased. By hair.

“As you can see, Madame de Moranjac seems to have fallen asleep with her eyes open. Everything is as simple as a two-pronged fork. She did not see the killer, for she was the only one with her back to the door when he entered. M. de Moranjac couldn't see him either, for the front door was out of his peripheral vision, but he died anyway. His children, on the contrary, managed to look into the eyes of death. Sebastian.

She approached the corpses of the twins and with some tension, but in order not to tear off the limb, she raised the stiff hand of one of them. The upholstery of the armrest was torn, the girl left a couple of her nails in it. Sebastina held up the other girl's hand, and everyone saw the marks left by her nails on the varnished wood, as well as the dried blood on her injured fingers.

- Only de Moranzhak Jr. found the strength to move. It didn't help him. The same with all the other dead. Others saw their death in the face, others parted with their lives easily. The murder was not done with the help of poison, this will be confirmed after examinations. All. Command, Inspector Wolfeld, the bodies to the morgue, seal the building, post guards. Constables on the streets, let them look. At least they're looking for something. By the way, who told everyone about this?

Ignoring the whip of hatred that lashed me in the Chief Inspector's mind, I looked around at the bewildered faces of the Scoalt Yard employees and proceeded to the exit. Sebastina handed me a cloak, a hat, and a cane. Inspector Aberlein caught up almost on the porch.

“Thane el'Moria, may I introduce you to Constable 1011 John Grundy.

“Good night, constable. Can you make me happy?

A young man with a bushy mustache, dressed in a winterized black Scoalt Yard uniform, drew himself up to attention. In his head, I read a little fear, embarrassment, confusion and ... doubt, or what?

“I discovered this, my thane…

- Understand. Decided to pay a visit to the Supreme Prosecutor in good memory, drink tea and suddenly found the body of an old friend lifeless? - I tried to give my look an expression that the interrogating officers called "drilling."

- No, my thane, of course I could not know Mr. de Moranzhak, but they told me ...

Uncertainty approached boiling point, but he wasn't about to lie.

“I… I know this is going to sound completely… stupid… no, crazy…”

“Constable, let me judge how and what sounds to me.

“Yes, my thane. I heard a voice.

- Understand. What's the voice?

- From behind. A voice from a dark alley, to be exact. I was walking past, patrolling my neighborhood, and then someone called out to me from the shadows and said that there was trouble at the de Moranjakov mansion. The public prosecutor is no joke, so I rushed here with all my might. Probably should have tried...

- Yes, to find out at least approximately what a benevolent anonymous person looks like. It would be just wonderful! “Due to lack of sleep, I was angry and full of poisonous bile. Where did it happen, you said?