Khlid looked at the evidence on the table in a new light. The message had not been left for the police. The rebellion did not care about them. It had been stupid to think so in the first place. It was a message for the military, and the message was painted in the blood of a royal family: We know. And we have a weapon of our own.
Maybe this should be handed to the M.O.D., Khlid thought.
“Something here is still missing but I can’t pin it down.” Chapman abruptly stood up and walked to the door. His disavowal of the case was clearly forgotten. Every inspector had that weakness. Provide them a mystery and the obsession would take over.
“Where are you going?” Khlid said.
“I have contacts who might be able to tell me something about that blood. Wait for Samuel, then meet me in the West Market by that fat fruit vendor in two hours.” He gave her an overblown wink. “I think we’ve been underestimated. I think we are going to crack this one right open.”
“Take Smits with you.”
“Who?” Chapman had come to a full stop and was again staring at her. She could never predict what would catch his attention.
“Officer Smits. He was at the manor this morning. I believe he got back just before you.”
“Ah! Smits. Not Shits.”
“Excuse me?”
Chapman ignored her question and opened the door.
Khlid almost went after him. The insufferable egomaniac was going to investigate the most dangerous enemy of the Empire without a partner or even an officer escort. God, she loathed him sometimes. But she did need to hear what Samuel had to report. So she sat back down and took a deep breath, turning from the irritant back to the evidence.
The trouble with solving a crime was there was never just one puzzle; not even in the most straightforward of cases. Just as different witnesses gave differing testimony of the same events, different players on her side had their own takes on how the puzzles should best be solved; it then fell to Khlid to reconcile all the perspectives and piece together the objective picture. Most of the time, she was confident she’d gotten it right. No matter how horrible the crime, solving it let her rest at night. But when working those cases in which self-doubt had wormed its way into her consciousness, she would stare at the bedroom ceiling for hours every night. The more horrific the crime, the less rest.
Maybe an unleashed Chapman is exactly what this puzzle needs.
She pulled a cigarette from the pack in her pocket, lit it, took a long drag, and prepared for the hardest part of her job. Piecing all of this shit together.
4
The Lead
Within the hour, Samuel had walked into the investigation room, plopped down in a chair, and let out an exaggerated groan.
Khlid grabbed his chin and gave him a kiss. He looked at her and smiled in response.
“Way more appealing without the…” He made a circle around his face with one finger.
She shuddered and said, “Let’s not mention that ever again. What did they find out at the Ministry?”
“Fuck if I know.”
She looked up at him. “Explain.”
Samuel rubbed his forehead with one hand and unbuttoned his long inspector’s coat with the other. “As soon as we brought that thing in, their specialists came out and barred us from following.” He picked up one of the folders on the evidence table. “I just spent the last hour and a half arguing with a team of armed guards, all suddenly struck mute.”
“Members of the Red Hand?”
Samuel shook his head. “No. Those new fuckers. The ones called the Fist. The elite of the elite.”
Khlid stared at him for a moment. “You just got into an argument with the Fist?”
“More like performed a soliloquy for them.”
Khlid decided to ignore the stupidity of her husband’s actions. The Fist were literally above the law. If they’d shot him, even unprovoked, it would have been legal. “So they won’t tell us anything?” She started rubbing her head.
“No. And I wouldn’t expect to hold on to this for long,” he said, gesturing to the evidence on the table. “What is the point of having an inspectorial force? Whenever something truly interesting happens, the military takes over and hides it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t get too discouraged just yet.” She explained how the captain had given them permission to investigate anything within the precinct borders, and the new details she and Chapman had ferreted out.
After it was all laid out, Samuel leaned back in his chair and looked at the roof. “Well.”
“Yeah, this is big.”
“Agreed. Bigger than us. They were right to take it.” Samuel got up and looked out the window.
“Excuse me? Chapman hesitates and now you?” Khlid could not believe what she was hearing.
Samuel leaned against the sill and held his hands up defensively. “Don’t get me wrong. I want to get to the bottom of this, but now that I see the whole case, it really is a military matter. They’d be right to take it. If this involved rebels, it’s a threat to the whole Empire, not just our jurisdiction.”
Khlid had to pick her jaw up from the floor. How could he say that? Samuel was always pursuing the “wrong” cases. The captain himself had been forced to pull him off of several for one political reason or another. Khlid was the one constantly reminding Sam of the rules. One military stonewalling and he was ready to back down? Capturing all of those thoughts concisely, Khlid remarked, “That is a fat load of shit.”
Samuel stifled a bit of mirth. “Excuse me?”
“Since when have you backed down from a case? You follow leads beyond our jurisdiction all the time; even into other cities!” Khlid tried and failed to hide the anger in her voice, though she did manage to stop her foot from tapping—too much.
Sam looked up and exhaled. “This just feels dangerous. You already had…” He struggled to find the words. “Something attacked you.”
A piece of the puzzle slid into place in Khlid’s mind. “Sam.”
His shoulders hunched. “This was different.”
“It’s not, though.” Understanding replaced her frustration. “I have been shot at loads of times. A bullet would kill me just as much as a... claw.”
“You were covered in blood.”
She exhaled, knowing the next step in this dance, and said, “I’m fine.”
Sam shot back, “But you might not have been!” He seemed to be struggling to maintain his breath. A look of deep unease took hold in his eyes. “Khlid, there was so much blood.”
They had had this fight before, from both angles. She had been irrationally mad at him for almost dying, and Sam had returned the sentiment on more than one occasion. This tension came with mixing marriage and work. This work, anyway.
Khlid wrapped her arms around her husband. He reciprocated, and after a moment, she stepped back. Sticking her arms out to the sides, she turned, letting him look at every angle of her. “See? All okay.”
He responded with a soft chuckle.
“We don’t need to go over this again. Your nerves are on edge. By tomorrow, you’ll be over it and remember that I am fucking bulletproof.”