Chapter One
In the distance, Charles Spinnet could hear thunder; an escalating soundtrack to the rainstorm pouring over the tiny bed and breakfast. The thirty-nine year old detective dragged his fingers through the side of his messy, dark brown hair and stared into the large mirror mounted over the fireplace mantle he was leaned upon. Behind him, he could see the small collection of guests gathering in the sitting room. Most of them were riddled with deception, naïvety or cowardice; Charles was hard pressed to know which was worse.
His amber eyes peered into the reflective glass, his lips twisted into a small smirk as he watched the others. He wondered how long they would sit in silence before addressing the issue, before finally asking him to speak. Two blondes shifted nervously while a third wept onto a brunette's shoulder. A red-head met his gaze in the mirror and scowled.
How long could they hold out; anticipation building in all but one to know the answer he had called them in to hear? Perhaps they simply didn't want the answer. Maybe they found comfort in their assumption and blindness. He didn't blame them; no one wanted to think their own family or friends were capable of such acts. Charles watched the group of eight exchange worried and frightened glances; seven of them wondering the same thing:
Who amongst them was a murderer?
They each had their suspicions on who poisoned Nathan Toulson. Was it the distraught sister? The now-grieving fiancée? The former best friend? The unknown, therefore untrusted, newcomer? The mi-
"Get on with it, Detective."
Charles pressed his lips tightly together as his thoughts were interrupted by Molly Weasley. He snorted; he'd have bet money on Louis being the first to break the silence. Then again the young man didn't seem quite as drunk or angry as he had been just an hour prior when Charles spoke to him. Perhaps he had taken one of those potions to fix himself.
The detective didn't like to dwell on such thoughts. Being a Squib forced him to live without the magic that his entire family relished in. Potions, spells and Quidditch were the types of things he had to distance himself from. But despite his best efforts to keep that world from invading his own, he was always finding himself called into cases involving wizards and witches. There was a certain level of sensitivity involving a case like this one: where a Muggle-style crime had been committed in a Muggle borough by a member of the Wizarding community. Charles acted as a bridge between the two worlds, a go-between, one who could be freely accepted by either side.
He loathed it but he was damn good at his job. And Charles loved being great; being needed.
"Detective, please." Tears could be heard in each word the victim's sister spoke. "Can you just tell us?"
Charles cleared his throat and turned to face the room. "Of course." His hands slid into his trouser pockets and he nodded towards the woman who had addressed him. "I have to admit -" he paused to cross the room and stand behind the wing chair where a red-eyed Dominique Weasley sat "- this case was much easier than I assumed it would be." He ignored the annoyed looks coming from the others and cast his gaze directly below him at the blonde. "You didn't even make it a challenge, Miss Weasley."
Dominique jumped up from her chair and spun around to face the detective. "Excuse me!" The woman stared at Charles with disbelief. "Are you implying that I murdered my fiancé?"
"No, of course not." Charles chuckled at the idea and shook his head. "I'm saying that you did. We're far past the point of implications."
"That's insane!" Victoire jumped to her feet and charged towards the detective, batting away her husband's hands as he tried to stop her. "You can't accuse my sister of murder! He was her fiancé, you arsehole!" The woman was near tears she was so angry. Her face flushed red as she raised her hand in threat at the man who was calling her sister a monster.
Charles just barely stepped out of reach from the blonde's attack, his eyes wide in shock. Several others in the room voiced their protests at Dominique being the suspect. "She wouldn't do that," came Molly's defense. "She loved Nathan," added Teddy. "Dominique isn't a killer!" Shelby, the victim's twin sister, her voice was the loudest.
"So you're all so sure that Dominique isn't guilty?" Charles stood back and watched everyone's faces. "No one thinks that she murdered Nathan? Then I suppose one of you is ready to stand up and admit to it." He pointed towards Molly and Teddy and Shelby in succession. "Hmm? Any of you feel like taking the blame?" When he was met with shifting glances and silence, he turned back towards Dominique. "You're under arrest, Miss Weasley."
"No! This is ridiculous. I am not a murderer!"
"Why?" All eyes turned towards Louis as he finally chose to speak up. "Why would she kill him?" The young man lifted his reddened eyes to meet the Detective's and pleaded through them for answers.
"Yes, why is a good question." Dominique pointed to her brother and nodded fervently. "I had no reason to kill Nathan. Why would I kill my own fiancé?"
"That's a good question indeed." Charles nodded knowingly and smirked at the angry blonde he was accusing. "I was wondering that myself at first. But you see, it was when I talked to your brother there that everything seemed to fall into place. All my doubts and questions seemed to flutter away." He waved his hand, comically illustrating the word flutter.
At this point Dominique rounded on her younger brother. "What did you say to him?" Her shrieks were earsplitting as she leaned over the young man and stared daggers at him. "I know you hate me but to accuse me of murder; that's horrible!"
"Ah, but he didn't accuse you of anything." Charles carefully stepped between Dominique and the target of her anger. "He doesn't even know that he helped me solve this case."
Victoire gave a snort from the center of the room as Teddy wrapped his arms around her and tried to pull her back to the couch. "I'm starting to think this man isn't just magic-less, but brainless as well."
"Perhaps I should start at the beginning." The Detective held up his hand and put on a rather smug grin.
"That would be best, Detective."
Thunder clapped loudly, the storm was now fully upon them. The detective's smile widened and his eyebrows raised slightly; oh how Charles loved ambiance. The man slipped his hands into his pockets and strolled back over to the fireplace. He knew excusing himself for a smoke would be in poor timing, so he lit up a cigarette there in the sitting room before turning back to face the group. No one spoke against him. And then, he began his story.
The rain had just started to drizzle when Detective Charles Spinnet arrived at the Eternal Amaranth Bed and Breakfast. He let out a heavy sigh as he shut off the engine to his vintage roadster and peered up at his speckled windshield. "And my umbrella is back at the station." The man tightened and released his grip over his steering wheel several times before placing his grey fedora atop his head and pushing open the door of his car. It was a quick run to the front door of the building but the man got plenty wet before making it. As much as Charles enjoyed rain on a mystery day, he'd prefer it not be on him.
"Ah, Spinnet, you found the place alright." A Muggle officer was waiting by the door inside the foyer when Charles stepped through the door. "If you'll just follow me, I'll take you to the body."
"Of course, just a moment." Charles shook his jacket as he pulled it back off his shoulders and handed it to the maid for the Bed and Breakfast. "Find a way to dry that off, will ya?" He tipped his head to the woman and placed his hat upon the coat rack.
"Are you ready now?" The officer twisted his lips at Charles, annoyed at having to wait on the man. When he received a nod in reply, he led the way through the sitting room, down a long hallway and into the billiards' room. Despite the obvious blanket-draped body in the room, the officer pointed towards it. "His name was Nathan Toulson. We've already ran a trace test on the scotch from the bottle; it was poison for certain."
"Why the scotch?" Charles leaned over the drink cart and eyed several bottles of gin and tonic water.
"That's what he drank. According to Mister Lupin, the gu-"
"If you don't mind, I'd rather hear the story directly from this...Lupin chap." The detective cast a smug and unyielding grin towards the officer and stood up straight. "You can go now." He waited until the man took his leave, strolled cautiously over to the body and cut his eyes down towards it. "Seems I have some work to do, Mister Toulson."
The man glanced around the room, taking in the entirety of it in a matter of moments. Four pool sticks were down; two of them laid carefully against the wall, one discarded carelessly in the middle of the floor while the last dropped next to the body. Two clear tumblers sat on one table, both with a wedge of lime floating in them; gin and tonic mixes he presumed. Four players, yet only two drinks, three counting the murder weapon; Charles found that note-worthy.
After one more glance around the room, the detective made his way back into the hall. He passed the officer without a word and found his own path into the dining room where the collection of eight guests, make that suspects, were gathered. He stared at each one; silence stretched over the room save the soft and muffled sobs from one blonde woman and the steady pound of rain upon the windows. "Which one of you is Lupin?"
Slowly, a man got to his feet and nodded towards Charles. "That would be me. Teddy Lupin. I was with Nathan when he...well when it happened." The man's dark brown hair faded with a dingy grey and Charles took a step back in surprise, his eyes locked onto the change. "Oh, sorry about that. I can't really control it." Teddy put his hand in his hair and threw an apologetic look at the detective.
"How the hell did you do that?" Charles narrowed his eyes at the man, not liking the event one bit.
"What does it matter?" A young blonde woman jumped to her feet and slapped her hand on the table. "You're here to find out what happened to my brother, not play hairdresser!" She dragged her palm across her eyes, smearing the dark eyeliner that graced her lids.
"Yes, of course." Charles wrung his hands together, his eyes dodging between Teddy and the young woman. "You're the victim's sister?" The man never got his answer from her. Right around the word victim, the blonde put her hand over her mouth and dashed out of the room looking as though she were about to be sick. Charles watched her go before turning back fully to Teddy. "Her name?"
"Shelby and yes, she's his sister. His twin sister actually." Teddy looked down at the woman who was sitting next to his former place. "I'm going to go with the detective and talk in the other room. You stay in here." He turned back to Charles and pointed towards the door. "Away from the ladies please?"
With a simple nod, Charles followed the other man out of the dining room and into the sitting room. He watched as Teddy lowered himself onto a sofa and hung his head in his hands. "Your hair?"
"I'm a Meta." Teddy was clearly annoyed with the question. He glanced up at the detective and widened his eyes at the blank stare he was receiving. "Metamorphmagus? You...you don't know what that is?"
"If that's some of your funny Wizard slang for drugs, I'm running you in."
"It isn't! It means I c-"
Charles held up his hand and waved it to dismiss the topic. "Tell me about what happened in there. Four of you were playing?"
Teddy nodded. "Yeah... It was uh, it was me and Nathan and...and Daniel, he's Molly's boyfriend. And Louis, my wife's brother." He dragged his hands through his hair and took a long, loud breath to calm his nerves. "It was after dinner. We were..." His eyes closed a moment. "We were all laughing and just having a great time."
"Who wasn't drinking?"
"Me. Dinner didn't sit so well. The...the scotch is mine. I brought it from home. It's all I drink and I let him have some of it. I didn't know." His eyes locked onto the detective's, hurt emanating. "God...I offered it to Louis too." His words were losing their confidence, becoming shaky and distressed. "Do...do you think someone was trying to hurt us all?"
"I'm not sure what to think yet, Mister Lupin. After all, by your own admission, you've just made yourself my prime suspect."
Teddy sprung to his feet and stared at the other man with horror on his face. "What?"
"Calm down."
"Calm down?" A woman's voice cut through the air, cold and sharp. The loud clacking of heels upon hardwood followed a stunning blonde into the sitting room. "You accuse my husband of murder and expect him to just...calm down?"
"Vic don't." Teddy laid his hands on the woman's shoulders and smoothed them down her arms. "I'm sure he didn't mean it."
"Oh I very much meant it." The detective eyed Victoire before sliding his hands into his pockets and glancing around the room. "Why are all of you here?"
The blonde woman snorted in disdain. "You're the detective, aren't you supposed to figure things out on your own?"
"Victoire, go back in the dining room and be with your sister." Teddy was near pleading with his wife not to continue. Once the woman complied, he rounded back on Charles and narrowed his eyes. "You've got a lot of damn nerve. A man is dead and you're strutting around this place like -"
"Mister Lupin, whatever it is you think I am strutting like, I assure you that voicing it will not help me solve this case." Charles turned his head back towards Teddy, his eyebrows raising in defiance. "I asked a question."
"Dominique and Nathan got engaged." Teddy dropped himself heavily onto the sofa and glared up at the detective. "This was a sort of celebration get together."
"Oh isn't that lovely? Invited the whole family?"
Teddy let out an involuntary laugh. "This isn't the whole family. Not even close. And..." His eyes darted off in shame.
"And?"
"I don't wanna say anything...incriminating. Look, I know these people – most of them at least – and they aren't killers. I'm not going t-"
"Mister Lupin, your repeated uncooperative nature is making you out to look more guilty by the moment."
"Louis, okay!" Teddy gritted his teeth up at Charles and huffed loudly. "Louis wasn't invited. He just showed up on his own, had Lucy with him. Nathan...he said they could stay. Domi was pretty pissed about it, but she didn't argue." After a moment the man went on. "But Louis is a nice guy."
Charles nodded simply, his eyes still focusing on the most random of objects around the room. "Alright, now...tell me about the scotch."
"You mean the poisoned scotch?"
"No, I mean the Queen's own bloody collection." Charles spun back towards the man in question and scowled, the faint lines framing his mouth growing deep.
Teddy bit back the urge to chastise the detective for his poor timing of sarcasm. "Like I said before, it's mine. I brought it from home. I gave it to one of the maids when we came in; the blonde girl. Told her to put it in the billiards room for after dinner and...well she did."
"Was the bottle sealed?"
"Yes."
"And when you served it to the victim, was it sealed then as well?"
"I...I don't know. I didn't serve him." The look on Charles' face made it clear the man wanted further information. "L...Louis did. But he poured all the drinks! He's a damn bartender, it's kinda his thing. He made his and Daniel's then he made Nathan's."
Charles rubbed his fingers over his lips, a soft hum of thought breaking through them.
"I'm sorry, Detective, but I really don't see where you're going with this." Dominique was kicked back in her chair, her icy blue eyes locked hard on Charles, the hate pouring from her stare. "If anything...you've just managed to make Louis look guilty."
"What?" The young man gasped at his own name and stared horror struck at his sister. "You bitch."
"Oh shut up!" Dominique flailed her hands as she turned to her brother. "You heard the detective, for all we know, you coulda spiked the drink when you made it for him!"
"That's not true." Though his statement was addressed to the entire room, his eyes sought out Charles'. "No, you said it was her. You said she killed him!"
Charles pointed towards Louis with his near finished cigarette. "Because she did."
A Note From the Author: Thank you for reading the start of my short story here. I really hope that you enjoyed everything so far and that you come back for the remainder of the tale. I wrote this for a challenge. The point was to write a story inspired by a certain film genre or style and I chose the classic, inverted detective style. :) So anyways, thanks again and don't be shy to leave a review. –Jenna