A/N: This is just a short little mystery/adventure/hurt-comfort of four chapters. I'm still following my posting schedule of Saturdays and Wednesdays.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading!
Chapter 1
The screech and clang of steel was a rhythmic backdrop in the garrison yard. Aramis watched the sparring dance like it was a show as he munched on an apple and waited for Porthos and d'Artagnan to finish their debrief with Treville upstairs in the captain's office. Athos was off somewhere else, probably planning the next round of training for their young Gascon. Though he was barely back from accompanying Porthos on a delivery, there was no rest for the musketeer apprentice.
Aramis's attention wavered from the training yard as he caught sight of Constance entering the garrison. He pushed away from the support beam he'd been leaning against and walked over to greet her.
"Constance. Come to see if d'Artagnan is back yet?" he said cheekily. "He's only just arrived and is still debriefing the captain."
He frowned when that didn't earn him an indignant huff or minor slap.
Constance was wringing her hands in her skirts. "I need your help."
He arched a curious brow and gestured for her to come take a seat at the table beneath the balcony. "D'Artagnan's almost finished with Treville." He spotted Athos coming out of the armory and caught the lieutenant's eye, cocking his head to beckon him over.
"Madame Bonacieux," Athos greeted as he joined them.
"Athos," she replied with a polite nod.
The door above creaked open and Aramis looked up to catch d'Artagnan's and Porthos's attention, waving them to come down.
"Constance," d'Artagnan said in surprise, a delighted gleam lighting his eyes. But it sobered just as quickly as he took in her grim expression. "What's wrong?"
"I didn't know who else to come to," she began, making whatever it was sound very grave indeed. "A friend has gone missin'. No one's seen 'im since last week and I'm worried. This isn't like Eustace."
Aramis exchanged a look with Athos. A wayward citizen wasn't exactly in their jurisdiction.
"Friend?" d'Artagnan repeated, the spark of notable jealousy hard to miss.
Constance bristled. "Yes, friend. We've known each other since we were children. 'E's like one of my brothers." She skewered him with a pointed glare. "Surely you can understand that."
The boy ducked his gaze abashedly.
"Perhaps he had business outside of Paris," Athos suggested.
"'E wouldn't leave wit'out telling me," Constance insisted. "And he was last seen at a tavern in the southern district last Thursday. 'E never came home that night."
No one said anything. Athos's expression remained unconvinced, and Constance stood up in a huff.
"Fine, if you won't help—"
Aramis reached out a hand to stop her. "It can't hurt to look into it," he said, throwing a questioning glance at the others.
"Of course," d'Artagnan quickly put in. "What was the name of the tavern?"
"The Boar's Head," she replied.
"And your friend," Aramis asked, "Eustace…?"
"Robineau."
He nodded. "All right, we'll see if we can find anything."
Constance lifted her head and gave a stiff nod. "Thank you." With that, she took her leave.
"We can hardly go chasing all over Paris for one man," Athos said once she'd departed. "Especially without evidence of foul play."
"But how can we find evidence if we don't ask any questions?" Aramis countered. "D'Artagnan and I might as well make inquiries. It won't take too long."
Athos sighed. "Very well. We were to be on patrol duty later anyway."
Aramis nodded and turned to d'Artagnan, who'd had no chance to change out of his dust-laden clothes from the ride that morning. "No rest for the weary," he quipped.
D'Artagnan shook his head but didn't complain, and together they headed off to the southern district.
"Constance seemed very worried," d'Artagnan brought up as they walked through the streets of Paris.
"Yes, and a week's absence is not encouraging," Aramis replied. "Though if her friend was the victim of a robbery, the authorities would have notified the family by now."
"So is that a good sign or bad that they haven't?"
"I really don't know." There were any number of misfortunes that could befall someone walking the streets at night, though to vanish entirely was something a bit more unusual.
After some searching and asking for directions, they found the Boar's Head, one of the more shabby looking establishments in Paris. This early in the day, the place was mostly empty, save for the resident drunkard snoring in a dark corner. The tavern keeper was behind the bar, a portly man with a thin mustache and white hair, wiping down the permanently stained counter. He looked up at their entrance, eyeing them warily.
"Monsieur," Aramis greeted. "We are from the King's Musketeers and are looking for a patron of yours, a Eustace Robineau."
The proprietor snorted. "I 'ave lots o' customers. Can't be expected ta remember 'em all."
"But surely you remember your regulars," Aramis pressed.
"Aye. And a Eustace Robineau ain't one o' 'em. Whatever 'e's wanted fer, I've no part of it."
"Our interest has nothing to do with illegal activities."
"Good, 'cause I 'ave no part innit," the man repeated. "An' I want no trouble."
Aramis heard d'Artagnan bite back a sigh.
"Have you had any trouble recently?" the boy asked. "Specifically last Thursday? Problems between patrons?"
The man shrugged one shoulder. "Not more so 'an usual. Scuffles now an' then between drunks. Nothin' serious."
"Problems with one of your non-regulars?" Aramis persisted. He got a scowl in return.
"No. Now if that's all, I've got work ta do." The man threw his dirty rag on the counter and shuffled through the back door.
Aramis exchanged a disappointed look with d'Artagnan. So much for finding answers for Constance. They made their way back outside.
"Should we come back tonight?" d'Artagnan asked. "Talk to some of these regulars?"
Aramis pursed his mouth. It was quite a trek from the garrison, which would equal a late night for them. But he'd told Constance they would try to help, and he couldn't in good conscience give up this easily. He imagined it was the same for d'Artagnan, who had a lot more reason to be invested in helping the fair Madame Bonacieux.
"I think that's our only next course of action," he replied.
"Pst," someone hissed from behind.
They both turned to find a young woman pressed against the corner of the tavern at the back alley. When they met her gaze, she nodded and beckoned sharply.
"Mademoiselle," Aramis said, removing his hat. "How may we be of service?"
She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder. "I 'eard you talkin' wit' my father. About a missin' man?"
Aramis and d'Artagnan shared a look.
"You know him?" d'Artagnan asked.
She shook her head. "No. But he ain't the first. Others 'ave disappeared. People I know. People I'm used ta seein' on certain corners, now gone."
Aramis's brows rose a fraction. That was…unexpected. "Has there been an investigation?"
She shrugged. "Family members 'ave asked around, but there's just…no trace." She bit her lip. "You'll investagate though?"
Aramis was certainly piqued and he nodded, placing his hat back on his head. "We will. Thank you."
She gave another nod and then darted back toward the door to sneak back into the tavern, probably before her father caught her speaking with them.
"This isn't a good sign, is it?" d'Artagnan asked.
Aramis pressed his lips into a thin line. "I think not."
They'd gone searching for information as to one man's whereabouts and come back with even more unanswered questions.
o.0.o
While Athos was not unsympathetic to Constance's plight, he was pragmatic about their ability to help. He'd given d'Artagnan and Aramis some leeway to look into it, not expecting much. Their report about several disappearances, however, proved concerning, and Treville agreed when they'd passed on the information of their cursory inquiry to him. Now they had an official investigation on their hands, and Athos and Porthos had returned with d'Artagnan and Aramis to the southern district to try to determine who exactly had gone missing and how many.
This time Athos questioned the keeper of the Boar's Head, who still insisted he didn't want any trouble and therefore knew nothing, while Aramis surreptitiously made eye contact with the man's daughter and then slipped outside to meet with her out back. Athos and Porthos kept the tavern keeper occupied until she snuck back in, hopefully having been more helpful.
"Thank you for your help, monsieur," Athos said with enunciated wryness and headed out with Porthos.
Aramis and d'Artagnan were waiting.
"What did you find out?" Athos asked.
"We got a few names of people who haven't been seen in the past several weeks," d'Artagnan replied. "A couple more who supposedly disappeared were beggars, but we can't know if that's related or if they just moved on from their regular corners."
Athos nodded. "We'll split up, check with the families of those you do have names for, see if they've turned up since."
They divvied up the names and then set off, Athos with d'Artagnan. Their first stop was a tanner whose nephew had reportedly vanished. However, since d'Artagnan had speculated that the tavern keeper's daughter was a bit taken with the young man, there could be a multitude of reasons he'd suddenly become scarce.
"Monsieur LeMahieu?" Athos called, diverting the tanner's attention from his work.
LeMahieu squinted up at them as they entered his shop. "Yes?"
"I am Athos of the King's Musketeers. This is d'Artagnan. We've received a report that your nephew, Bertin, has gone missing and have come to verify that."
LeMahieu frowned. "Why would the King's Musketeers care about a lazy tanner apprentice?"
"We're investigating a number of disappearances," Athos replied. "Is your nephew here?"
The man hesitated. "No…he took off two weeks ago and I 'aven't seen 'im since. Figured the ungrateful lout decided to seek his fortune in the Americas. But…you're sayin' somethin' happened to 'im?"
"We have no evidence to suggest that," d'Artagnan put in. "Right now we're just trying to substantiate that there have been disappearances."
"Am I to assume you didn't check the city morgue?" Athos asked.
LeMahieu blanched. "You think I should?"
"No," d'Artagnan said quickly. "If you give us a description of Bertin, we'll do that. Like we said, we're just making inquiries right now."
LeMahieu looked uncertain but went ahead and gave them a description of his nephew, including a birthmark on his left arm that would help make him easier to identify.
"You'll- you'll tell me if he's…"
"We will," Athos assured him.
He bid the man goodbye and he and d'Artagnan exited the workshop.
"We still have two more names to check," the boy said, sounding grim about what they might find.
"LeMahieu is correct that his nephew could have very well decided he did not want to be a tanner and left," Athos pointed out.
D'Artagnan just gave him a look.
"Don't jump to conclusions," Athos warned.
"There's jumping to conclusions and there's trusting your gut."
Athos couldn't say anything to that. For he was right.
o.0.o
Their next stop laid to rest that a second man was missing, though the news that he'd fallen ill and died wasn't something to lift the mood. The third person they checked on had, in fact, disappeared without a trace. He was the middle son in a family of five, and after his mother had checked the morgue and found nothing, they'd written him off.
Athos and d'Artagnan then rendezvoused with Aramis and Porthos across the street from the Boar's Head to share what they'd found. It was not encouraging. They had a total of four confirmed disappearances.
"So now we check the morgue?" d'Artagnan asked.
"Yes," Athos replied.
"Always so much fun to visit," Aramis said with a sigh.
"At least one family didn't find their missing relative there," d'Artagnan pointed out.
"While I agree four missing men—"
"Confirmed missin'," Porthos interrupted. "Who knows how many poor were snatched off the streets wit'out anyone noticin'."
"Confirmed missing," Athos amended, "rouses suspicion, they may not be related at all. Any number of misfortunes can befall someone in this city."
D'Artagnan frowned. "We may not find Constance's friend alive, will we?"
Aramis clapped him on the back. "Don't despair yet. It's possible he found himself in trouble and is in the Chatelet for some offense."
D'Artagnan huffed. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? If I have to tell Constance her childhood friend is in prison—"
"There is no use speculating," Athos cut in. "Let's start with the morgue and then go from there."
They set off, winding through the streets of Paris until they reached their destination. The morgue was full as usual. As Athos had said, there were a great many misfortunes that could befall someone—stumbling home drunk and falling into the Seine, being robbed and murdered, or engaging in criminal activities themselves and being arrested.
"We're looking for several individuals," Athos told Poupart and proceeded to deliver a description of each of the men they'd confirmed missing. A few of them were rather average looking, but even so the investigator said he hadn't had any fitting those descriptions come in recently.
"What about a few weeks ago?" Aramis asked.
Poupart scoffed. "You expect me ta remember? You know how many bodies get brought in 'ere?"
"What about a young man about my height, dark hair? He has a birthmark on his left arm about here." Athos indicated where LeMahieu had described. "He went missing no more than two weeks ago."
"Eh, maybe rings a bell. I'll check the ledger." He went to the far wall where his work station was and began flipping through the records.
"We're not gettin' anywhere," Porthos grumbled.
"All these people went missing from different places too," d'Artagnan added. "We don't have a location we could even stake out."
"It does seem like searching for a needle in a haystack," Aramis commented.
"'Ere we go!" Poupart called. "Young man, dark hair, birthmark on 'is left arm." He tapped the page in his ledger book. "No one came lookin' for 'im so he was buried in a potter's field two days ago."
"How did he die?" Athos asked.
"Mauled to death."
The musketeers exchanged a surprised look. That wasn't a very common occurrence.
"Where?" d'Artagnan blurted.
"'E was found in the woods. Nothin' more to tell."
"Where in the woods?" Aramis asked.
"Eh, northeast quarter. A trapper found 'im. Man by the name of Landry."
"Thank you," Athos said, turning to the others. "We'll see if this Landry can show us where he found LeMahieu's nephew."
o.0.o
The trapper was amenable to helping them and explained that game had become sparse in his usual hunting ground, so he'd been searching out new places to set his traps when he'd stumbled across the body. He led the musketeers through the woods toward a dense area where branches snagged at their coats and scratched their faces. It was a very remote spot indeed.
"What would Bertin have been doing all the way out here?" d'Artagnan wondered aloud.
"Are you in business with his uncle, LeMahieu?" Athos asked the trapper.
"No. I's do my business with Toussains on the west end of the city. Didn' know the boy I found." Landry stopped and pointed to the spot where he'd stumbled upon Bertin.
Aramis scanned the ground. "Where's all the blood? If he was attacked by an animal and killed here, there should be more of it." He scuffed his boot through the dirt, which lacked any noticeable rusty tinge.
"It has been two weeks," Porthos pointed out.
"No, 'e's right," Landry spoke up. "There wasn't a whole lot when I found 'im."
"Curious, but hardly conclusive," Athos remarked. He roved his gaze around this spot in the woods, trying to figure out what might have drawn Bertin out here.
"Athos," d'Artagnan called from several yards away where he'd meandered off.
Athos headed toward him, the others following. He drew to a stop when he realized d'Artagnan was staring at the ground, hand covering his mouth. Athos followed his gaze and grimaced at the body. It was barely recognizable, flesh torn and ravaged, the eye sockets emptied by carrion and maggots.
D'Artagnan arched a brow. "Two bodies?"
"Make that three," Aramis said grimly from ten feet away. He also pressed a gloved hand over his mouth and nose.
Athos felt a chill run down his spine. "Check the surrounding area," he ordered.
Landry helped, and after a sweep of the vicinity, they'd found six sets of remains in various stages of decomposition. All appeared to have been mauled, but wild animals didn't come into the city to steal victims away to a single dumping ground.
Athos looked around gravely at the gruesome discovery. "Someone is covering up murder."