CHAPTER NINE: The Alibi

The artificial glow of the fluorescent lights made Lorenz Gloucester's skin look even more anemic than usual. The blood had drained from his face as soon as Felix had laid a copy of the threatening letter on the table in front of him, and he'd taken on a sickly hue. His lawyer, Pallardó, was unfazed. He eyed the letter casually, as if it were a takeaway menu from the nearest Dagdan restaurant.

"Let's not waste any more of our time, Mr. Gloucester," Sylvain said breezily, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. "You know what this is. Instead of repeating the same line about how you know nothing about Ubert's disappearance, why don't you just tell us the truth?"

"I have told you no lies," Lorenz said, his lips and voice tight.

Felix scoffed, sitting forward for the first time since the questioning began. "Explain this letter, then."

Lorenz looked at the printout, then up at the officers, fear and defiance in equal measure in his eyes. "I know nothing of it."

"That's a lie." Felix spat the words.

When Lorenz didn't reply, Sylvain picked the letter up and read off of it. "'I know what you've done.' What is that Ubert did to make you so upset? Everyone in Garreg Mach seems to think he was an all-around great guy." He looked up at Lorenz, head tilted. "Was it just the fact that he embarrassed you in front of a woman? Is that all it takes to piss you off? Kind of sensitive, aren't you?"

"I already told you everything that happened with that event. There were no further correspondences between myself and Mr. Ubert."

Sylvain continued reading. "'If you ignore this warning, the consequences will be painful. We are watching.' What kind of consequences, Mr. Gloucester? And who is this 'we'? You and the mouse in your pocket, or who? Your family?"

"Like I said, I didn't write that. No one in my family has any involvement here and I must insist you leave them out of this altogether."

"How'd you do it?" Sylvain leaned forward, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "I mean, really, I'm kind of impressed at this point."

Lorenz glared at him. "Do what?"

"How'd you hide your tracks so well? If not for this letter, you almost had a real stumper of a crime here. Did you pay someone to do it? You have some money, right?" Sylvain's tone was innocent, almost admiring. "Did your family have Ashe taken care of, Mr. Gloucester? You know what taken care of means, right?"

"I-"

"That is a leading question!" Pallardó cut across Sylvain's intense eye contact. "Don't answer that, Mr. Gloucester."

"Leave my family out of this! I had nothing to do with Ashe Ubert's disappearance!" Lorenz's voice had risen, color high in his cheeks.

"Then explain the letter. We know you wrote it. We know."

"Prove it," Lorenz hissed.

Felix laughed cruelly, then threw the comment cards from The Merrow on the table between them with a sharp flick of his wrist. "I'm losing my patience. Do you think this is a game to us? Do you think we would have brought you in without proof you wrote this letter? Without handwriting analysis? Let me guess-you wore gloves when you wrote it and thought you wouldn't leave any prints?" In truth, the department had not been able to find any prints on the letter, but it wouldn't hurt to let Lorenz' imagination fill in blanks where they didn't exist. He slammed his fist on the table, causing the cards to bounce and Lorenz to flinch. "CUT the SHIT, Gloucester! Did you kill Ashe Ubert?"

"No!" Lorenz was shaking now.

"Where is he?"

Pallardó nudged his client, and Lorenz bit his lip. "You're right; I admit it." He closed his eyes, his own hands curling into fists. "I...I wrote the letter."

"And then what?"

"A-and then nothing! That's as far as it went! I swear to you!"

Felix curled his lip. "You've lied to our faces for the past hour. Why would I start to believe you now?" He turned his head to Sylvain. "I think we should book him and get a warrant to search him and his family's properties. Look for wells."

"No!" Lorenz cried. "My family can't know of this! I'm telling you everything I know! I wrote the letter and taped it to Ubert's front door, but that's it! I was only trying to scare him out of the city! I would never hurt someone!" His voice broke, catching in his throat as if he were reentering puberty. "I never saw him again after I made sure he got the letter."

Sylvain leaned on an elbow, taking notes on his memo pad. "What do you mean you 'made sure he got the letter'?"

"I waited in a car with tinted windows until he came home and took the letter off the door. Then I left. That was the end of it."

"Who is the 'we' in the letter?"

"No one. I wrote it that way to trick him into thinking I had people that could carry out my threats. It was absurd, I know…" Lorenz shook his head. "No one else was involved. No one even knew I wrote the letter."

"Ashe Ubert stopped you from harassing a waitress and you wrote this letter to try and scare him out of town because of it." Felix's voice was acerbic. "His disappearance days later was mere coincidence."

Lorenz nodded, desperation on his face. "I swear it! I didn't even know he was missing until you told me the other day at the tea shop. I knew I hadn't seen him in weeks, so I assumed the letter had worked. I never dreamt something had actually happened to him!" He buried his face in his hands, his long hair falling around him like a curtain. "The truth is that I seem to have no luck with women and...and I was humiliated when he intervened in front of that waitress. The way she looked at him as he spoke is the way I want someone to look at me, so I envied him and...I overreacted. That's all."

"Where were you on the evening of June third?"

"June third...that's...ah! I was on a guided meditation retreat in the mountains. I have receipts and pictures I can show you to prove it! Give me two hours and I can bring them to this station."

Felix and Sylvain exchanged disappointed glances. On the other side of the table, Lorenz lifted his head, and his eyes were ringed with red. "Please believe me. I know nothing about Ashe Ubert's disappearance."

—

As soon as Lorenz and his lawyer had been escorted away down the hall, Felix looked around for a way to vent his frustration. To his surprise, Sylvain beat him to it. "DAMN it!" He yelled, slamming the door to the observation room and kicking a small plastic trash bin across the floor. "I thought we had something with him. I really did."

Sylvain's outburst quelled Felix's own rage, and he slammed the evidence file down on a table instead of launching it across the room. Another dead end, or it would be dead if Gloucester was true to his word and brought proof of his whereabouts on June third. He sank into a seat, propping his elbows on his knees and massaging his temple with one of his hands. Loose strands of dark hair slipped out of the clip and dropped around his face, tickling his cheeks. "I'm running out of angles at which to approach this case," he admitted. "I need the GMPD to let me examine Ubert's journal again, but they won't let me touch it. The answer is in there-I know it is."

"They won't even let you examine it in the evidence locker while supervised?" Sylvain asked, kneeling to pick up the trash he'd scattered. "That's bullshit."

Shamir, who they'd forgotten was also in the room, spoke up. "Internal memos have given instructions that you can examine it again after some of the forensic samples are back from the lab and the photocopied pages have been seen by Captain Edelgard herself."

Upon realizing she was there, Felix regretted expressing any sort of weakness in front of a GMPD officer. He jerked his head up, sweeping the wayward hair strands behind his ears and fixing his face back into its usual sternness. "Their inflexibility is only hurting the Ubert family. I've still got avenues I haven't exhausted, so I'll keep chasing those down until the GMPD decides to get over itself."

Sylvain, who was dropping the last of the trash back into the righted bin, swore again. "I forgot to ask Gloucester about that one line in his letter-'I know what you've done'. Should I go see if I can catch them before they leave?"

"Isn't it obvious what that meant?" Shamir stopped him before he could reach for the doorknob. "He was clearly using Ubert's history as shame blackmail."

"What history? Ubert's record is clean."

Shamir made a face. "Ah," she said softly, her expression clearing. "You used the Faerghus Provincial system to research his background, didn't you?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"Faerghus doesn't keep criminal records after expungement, correct? That was part of the criminal reform bills passed years ago."

Felix blinked. "What are you saying?"

"Use the GMPD record system and look again. Since Garreg Mach is technically an annexation from Adrestia, we haven't been forced to switch over to the Province's penal codes yet. We still keep records of expunged offenses."

"Wait…" Sylvain ran a hand through his hair. "Did Ubert have a criminal record?"

Shamir's eyebrows rose. "Yeah, one about as long as my arm, though they were all expunged. I can't believe you didn't know this."

Sylvain and Felix traded glances of shock and disbelief. "Why was this not in the file we were given?"

Shamir shrugged. "We didn't compile the file you were given-we turned over all evidence to the Province and they compiled it based on existing law. Blame them."

"...unbelievable." Felix rose, irritably swiping the file in question off the table and thrusting it at his partner's face. "We're leaving."

"Where are we going?"

"To find out more about Ms. Macneary and hopefully get her contact information."

Sylvain nodded, dropping the file into his case. "Right behind you. Oh, hey," he turned to Shamir. "Thanks for the help."

Shamir smiled, though her face seemed unused to the motion. The smile dropped as the door closed behind them, and she chuckled darkly. "Don't thank me, boys."

—

"You're in charge of that tonight," Felix said as they pushed open the door to The Merrow, ignoring the customary welcome! from inside. "I want a full accounting of his record and reasons for expungement by tomorrow, got it?"

"Ugh...sounds like a late night." Sylvain groaned. "When am I supposed to sleep?"

"When you're dead," Felix replied flatly. He turned his head, finally paying attention to where he was walking, and found Mercedes von Martritz at the register watching him. "Is Ms. Casagranda here?"

Mercedes smiled, her face serene. "And a good morning to you too, Detective. Manuela is here; aren't you lucky? Annie is, too." She angled her body away, cupping a hand around her mouth. "Manuela! Annie!"

Before Felix could ask why it mattered where Annette was or was not, the woman herself came through the kitchen doors. "What's-bah!" She stopped when she saw the officers. "Felix! I mean...Detective! Uh...good morning!"

The sight of her startled face brought back memories of their previous tour, and Felix felt a dropping sensation in his stomach when he remembered the smell of lemons and salt. A sudden desire to never look her in the eyes again overtook him, and he crossed his arms, examining her feet instead. "...how's your ankle?"

"It's...um...it's fine! I put ice on it yesterday and...uh...see, I can walk just fine! Thanks again for, uh, I mean, thanks for asking." She laughed, but it was manic and insincere.

Sylvain slid his eyes to the side to look at Felix's expression, but wasn't able to say anything before Manuela appeared out of the hallway that led to her office and the break room. "Officers!" She greeted them cheerfully. "What can I do for you today?"

"We have questions," Felix said, more bluntly and gruffly than he'd intended. He dropped his arms, trying to shift back into work mode. "Could we have a moment of your time?"

"Sure. Anything to help. Shall we go back to my office?"

"That's fine."

"Follow me, then. Annie, you seem to have spilled pineapple on the floor here, dear. Try not to slip in it." She beckoned them forward, swiping at the fallen fruit with the side of her foot.

Once they'd settled in her crowded, messy office, she smiled brightly at them. "What did you need to know?"

Felix nodded at Sylvain, who reached into the file to produce a picture Felix had snapped of one page of Ashe's journal. "When you gave us the records of your staff and schedules, none of them mentioned Petra Macneary. Why is that?"

Manuela paused for a moment before speaking. "I can see why that would be confusing...unfortunately I see a lot of turnover because I hire seasonally, so I tend to go back and purge old records when someone leaves. I use old schedules to make new ones, and removing them helps reduce clutter, you see. If I don't, I accidentally end up scheduling shifts for people who don't work here anymore." She laughed lightly. "It's a little embarrassing to admit, but I have trouble with organization…"

Her office was testament to that statement; papers and mostly-empty mugs and various articles of clothing were strewn about, and everything seemed dusted with a fine coating of beach sand. "Do you have dates of Ms Macneary's employment here? And do you have any contact information that we can use to find her for questioning?"

"Yes, yes, I should have that...well, here somewhere." Manuela leaned over, reaching into a pile of books and opened letters beside her desk. She tugged at a paper, causing the whole stack to topple over. "Oh drat! Hold on a moment...I know it's here. Just...have to...ouch! When did that get there? Maybe it's this one...no, that's the paper goods inventory."

Sylvain's amused expression deepened with every moment. When she unintentionally turned over a mug, splattering cold, stale coffee on her shoes, he chuckled. "How about we wait out in the dining room until you find it?"

"Don't bother, it should only be a moment," Manuela muttered, dabbing at the coffee with a tissue.

"Did Ms Macneary have any romantic connections with Ashe Ubert?" Felix asked as she continued to work.

She turned her head to look at him, smirking. "Who knows? Like I told you before, he was quite the hot topic amongst them, though some were more serious than others." She pulled out an envelope, glanced at it for a moment, then tossed it aside. "Petra may have harbored a flame for him. Annie fancied him too, I think."

Felix balked at this new information. Annette had never indicated any sort of special feelings for Ubert. Did she still see him that way? Was she more upset about his disappearance than she let on?

He really knew nothing about her.

"Found it!" Manuela announced triumphantly, holding up a single sheet of paper. "This is the contact information she filled out when I hired her. You can see the date she was hired here. Her last day of work was...let me look." She handed the paper to the officers and turned to her computer, opening a spreadsheet. "May thirtieth. Let me write that down for you."

May thirtieth. Four days before Ubert disappeared. Felix scanned the paper Manuela had given him. The address was in Brigid, and an accompanying phone number was printed beside a neat signature. Petra Macneary, the signature read. The mystery girl, and Ubert's possible lover. Staring at the pen strokes, it felt like she could almost be beside them, signing on to her first day of work.

"Why did she quit?"

Manuela frowned. "Family emergency, she said. Something about her grandfather. I didn't pry."

"Did she say if she'd be back?"

"She didn't mention returning, no. What else did you need?" Manuela asked, sliding a memo note with the date written on it across the table.

Sylvain looked over at Felix, who shook his head. "I think we're all set. Thanks."

—

"Call this number," Felix instructed his partner, handing him the paper once they were out of Manuela's office and back in the hallway. "I need to ask two of the staff some questions."

Sylvain took the form and nodded, pulling out his phone while Felix strode away back to the dining room area. "Let's see what happens here," he muttered, punching the number in and hitting the button to connect.

The phone rang once, then an automated recording played: We are unable to connect you to the user associated with the phone number you have dialed. Please check the number for accuracy and dial again.

"Figures," Sylvain muttered, though he carefully keyed in the number and tried once more, with the same results. "As if that would have worked." He studied the form, but the number seemed to be written in the same handwriting as the rest of the information, and there were no signs of tampering.

After tucking the paper into the case file, he strode back into the dining room area, hooking his thumbs loosely in the pockets of his slacks. A small line had formed in front of the register, so he leaned up against the half-wall divider in the middle of the room and watched the staff work. The white-haired girl who had been running the waffle iron was nowhere to be seen, so the other three girls swapped spots back and forth to make up for her absence. The way they moved was smooth, efficient; like synchronized swimming. Sylvain couldn't help but to be impressed by their teamwork.

After a few minutes, his gaze must have started to make them uncomfortable, for they started trading questioning looks amongst themselves and furtive glances in his direction. "Is there something we can do for you, Officer?" The blonde one-Mercedes von Martritz-seemed to be the one silently chosen among them to reach out.

"No, no," Sylvain shook his head. "Just waiting for Felix. Do you know where he went?"

"He's talking with Lysithea," Mercedes replied. "Let us know if you need anything!"

"Thanks, ladies. You're too gracious."

Mercedes returned to work, but Dominic-without-a-k-at-the-end suddenly straightened as if she'd remembered something. "Officer!" She came to the counter, pulling something out of the little lap apron tied at her waist. "Could you give this to, uh, Detective Fraldarius?"

She slid a small booklet across the counter, and Sylvain picked it up, curious. "'Summer in Garreg Mach'? What is this, a tourist guide?"

"Well, yes, sort of." Annette watched him leaf through it. "I left a note in the front for him."

"Why don't you give it to him yourself? He should be back soon."

Annette's fingers went to the hem of her shorts, and she fidgeted with the fabric. "I'm, uh, going to be going back in the kitchen as soon as Lysithea comes back, so...can't you just give it to him?"

"Sure." Sylvain put the booklet in the case file beside Macneary's employment information, but kept his eyes on Annette. The way she looked relieved to have given the guide to him, and the way she kept looking over her shoulder toward the door that led to the beach patio...it was like… "So what's there to do for fun around here?"

"Fun?" Dorothea asked, surprised enough to join the conversation from where she was cutting fruit. "I didn't think police officers had time to have fun."

Sylvain took her comment as an invitation to move closer to the counter. "We're human, just like you. No one can work all the time; you'd go crazy." He sighed. "Well, unless you're that guy." He jerked his thumb toward the door to the patio. "But he's an incurable stiff."

Dorothea smirked. "What sorts of things do you like doing?"

"Anything active. Sports. Good nightlife with good music and good drinks."

"Give me that pamphlet Annie gave you." She held out her hand, then flipped it open when he placed it in her palm. "There's a great club here," she said, marking a spot on the map with a pen she pulled from her apron. "And if you like electronic music, which I personally do, this club does blacklights on friday nights." She handed it back to him. "Also, if you're interested, Ingrid teaches surfing lessons."

"No kidding? I've always wanted to learn how to surf." Sylvain took out his notepad. "Can I have her number?"

"Well...no." Dorothea smiled apologetically. "She'd kill me if I gave her number out to a man. But if you come back on a Monday, Friday, or Saturday you can ask her yourself."

Which one was Ingrid again? Sylvain couldn't remember. "Sure, I'll do that," he agreed. "I knew you ladies would be the right people to ask. You probably hear a lot because your customer base is so wide."

Dorothea shrugged. "We don't know that much. We try not to listen to gossip, right girls?"

Annette chuckled in response, and Mercedes shook her head. "Lying is not a virtue," she chastised lightly.

"Hey, I've got a question for you." Sylvain hooked his thumbs in his pockets again. The staff seemed to be in a good mood, so he might as well tap their knowledge while he could. "I saw some people running around playing something on their phones at, like, five in the morning. Seemed like they were looking for something. What's that all about? Some sort of Garreg Mach scavenger hunt?"

"Not one I know about," Dorothea replied. "Sounds like typical students on summer break."

Sylvain bobbled his head agreeably. "Sure, sure. But some of them were too old to be students. There was a middle aged couple walking around the square, some kids, and even this old lady." He pulled his phone out again and held it up. "They were tapping the screen like this."

Dorothea shrugged again, but Mercedes laughed gently. "Oh, you're talking about Cat Cat Go!"

Annette and Dorothea's faces brightened, and Annette snapped her fingers. "I forgot about that! Good thinking, Mercy! That's definitely it."

"What's Cat Cat Go?" Sylvain asked.

"It's a mobile phone game that was really popular in Leicester for a while," Mercedes explained. "It uses augmented reality technology as well as the GPS system on your phone to track your movements and make it so you could look around with your camera and collect little cartoon cats. It was popular here, too, back at the beginning of the season."

"Are people still playing it even after what happened?" One side of Dorothea's mouth quirked up in distaste.

Sylvain didn't care much for collection-type games, but he was glad to finally have an answer for what he'd seen. "What happened?"

"There were a lot of privacy issues," Annette answered. "A lot. The developers are definitely going to get super sued over it."

Mercedes nodded. "Basically once you agreed to let the app use your GPS, it never stopped tracking you, even when the app was off. Once I watched Annie visit three different ice cream shops in one day!"

"Mercy!" Annette yelped. "That was...that was a special occasion!"

"Wait, so you could just track people's locations on it at all times?" Sylvain blinked his surprise. "That's terrifying!"

"To be fair, you had to be friends with someone in order to be able to see their location," Dorothea noted. "But then they added a patch that made friending unilateral, so you could just friend anyone as long as you had their phone number. It's really a mess. I'm shocked anyone is still playing. We all deleted ours as soon as we found out."

Mercedes frowned. "I was very disappointed. It was so cute...sometimes you could find special cats that had little hats on. I found an Edmundion with fairy wings once...I should have taken a screenshot. "

Edmundion...the word stirred something in Sylvain's mind, but he couldn't bring it to the surface.

"We had a little cat-hunting group here at The Merrow," Annette said. "Ashe used to play with us too, sometimes. Remember the time Lysithea almost fell off the pier chasing that one rare breed that only came out after midnight?"

Dorothea laughed aloud. "I remember that! Ingrid caught her! And then Ashe had to catch Ingrid!"

"And then we all had to work the next day, so Ingrid drank, like, six cups of coffee to stay awake and her hands were shaking so hard Manuela wouldn't let her use the knives!" Annette also laughed, closing her eyes.

Sylvain, who'd been scrolling through the app store on his phone, turned his screen around so they could see. "Is this it?" He pointed to an icon of a cat dressed like a dragon.

"Yes! That's it!" Mercedes nodded, a smile pulling at her lips. "But...you're not going to play it, are you?"

"No way." Sylvain swiped, closing the app store page. "Police officers don't have time for that."

Mercedes was still smiling, but watched his hand as he slid the phone back into his pocket. "Well...that's good. It's not safe."

"If you want a fun game, you should try this one I play," Annette interjected, pulling out her own phone. "Type in-ah!" She stopped when the door to the patio opened and Lysithea came through, followed by Felix. "Back to the kitchen! Bye!" She scurried away through a set of swinging doors, leaving the jug of batter she'd been holding on the counter.

Lysithea's face was defiant as she went to pick up the jug. "I'm back. Where are we with the tickets? Did anyone make that neapolitan waffle?"

"Annie made it," Mercedes assured her. "You can start on a matcha one, though!"

Felix caught Sylvain's eyes, then jerked his head to the side, motioning for him to follow. "Thanks for your cooperation. We'll be back."

"Don't hurry," Lysithea huffed, pouring green batter into an iron, lips pinched.

Felix's eyes swept the restaurant once more, then he turned for the door. Sylvain followed, waving a friendly goodbye as he went. "Thanks for the help! Stay safe!"

—

"Where do you want me to drop you off?" Felix asked once they were back in the car. "I'm heading to the library. You want me to drop you at the station so you can get started looking into Ubert's record?"

Sylvain groaned. "Sure, sure. Ugh, I'm bored just thinking about the paperwork. Speaking of boring, why the library?"

"I'm checking von Ordelia's alibi. It shouldn't take long."

"Alright. Oh, Dominic-without-a-k-at-the-end told me to give this to you."

Felix snapped his head to the side as Sylvain pulled the pamphlet out of the file case. "What's that?"

"Some sort of tourist guide. She said she left a note for you in the front." Sylvain put it in the car's glovebox and resumed scrolling on his phone. "So...how's that going?"

"...how's what going?" Felix's voice sounded like he knew exactly what Sylvain was asking and was trying to discourage him from pushing any further.

"You know. Dominic." Sylvain kept his eyes on his phone. "She was looking for you when you were interviewing von Ordelia." He felt rather than saw Felix's eyes flick to him and then back to the road. "Kinda felt like you were doing a lot better than I expected on the whole 'get her to like you' front."

"It's...none of your business," Felix replied. "I've gotten some important information from her."

Sylvain nodded lazily. "Well, I'm impressed. I gave you one, maybe two attempts before she told you to shove it." Felix didn't respond, so Sylvain continued after a minute. "She's cute, isn't she?"

"Shut up," Felix snapped. "I'm not you-police business is police business. End of conversation."

Sylvain made a face. "Geez. Fine. Just asking. You know, we could always come back when the case is over. Wouldn't have to be police business the-"

"Sylvain, I swear to Sothis I will stop this car and leave you on the side of the road."

"Goddess almighty, fine."

Felix's grip tightened on the wheel, then gradually relaxed. "What are you doing? Are you downloading a game on your phone? That's police issued, you know. It's not for games."

"You're really no fun, you know that? I'm doing police work."

"Police work? With a-you know what? Do what you like. If you want to get dressed down by Captain Edelgard too, go for it."

"Blah, blah. Loosen your corset, man. Learn to-oh, come on. What are you-you're not really going to make me walk the rest of the way back, are you? It's a thousand degrees out there-look, I'm sorry, alright? Felix!"

—

"I know Lysithea von Ordelia, yes." The man behind the library help counter yawned widely, though it was mid-afternoon. "She's been here often this summer. Nice girl. Talks too much. Got mad when I showed her the children's section."

Felix pulled his badge out of his shirt and held it up so the man could see it clearly. "I need your name and access to the library's surveillance footage, particularly those from July eighteenth."

The man blinked at the badge, eyebrows lifting. "Alright." He pulled a notepad out of a drawer in the counter and wrote a name on the first sheet in neat, even handwriting. "Can't imagine why my name is important, but you're the boss. If you want to see the security tapes, you'll have to come back to our media room. Let me find someone to man the counter while I'm gone."

He disappeared into a back door while Felix tore the sheet off the notepad, glancing at it briefly before stuffing it into his pocket. He returned shortly, another young man in tow. "Come on back, officer. Ignatz, I leave the counter in your capable hands."

Felix followed the librarian through a different door that led them into a cramped but well cared-for computer room. He sat down at one of them, sighing as he did so. "I appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Hevring," Felix offered after a moment, feeling a budding resentment in the air.

"Please, call me Linhardt," the man replied, his eyes glued to the computer screen as he clicked through various menus. "It's not often we get a visit from the police. I'm most intrigued. Might I inquire as to what you are looking for?"

"Unfortunately I'm not at liberty to discuss the situation."

Linhardt nodded, face impassive. "That makes sense. I assume it has something to do with Ms. von Ordelia, though. Was she the victim or the perpetrator of the crime? Ah...you probably can't tell me that, either."

Felix narrowed his eyes. "Correct."

The tap of Linhardt's fingers on the keyboard filled the silence, punctuated by mouse clicks as he panned through time lapses of security footage. "Here you are. I've pulled up all five cameras we use here in the library. The highlighted area here is all of July eighteenth." He stood up, leaving the chair out for Felix.

"Thank you," Felix said, sitting down.

"Would you have me leave or stay?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Then, if you don't mind, I'll stay." Linhardt leaned against the wall, watching Felix scrub through the evening footage.

Felix paused, looking up at him. "This is confidential information for an ongoing case. The Garreg Mach Police and the Faerghus Provincial Police ask that you keep what you've seen and what I've asked to yourself until the conclusion of the investigation."

Linhardt nodded lazily. "My lips are sealed. I'm not trying to spy or be impertinent; I merely have a...what does Ignatz call it? An overly healthy curiosity."

Felix didn't reply and instead focused on the computer screen, tuning the librarian's presence out. The footage showed exactly what von Ordelia had claimed: that she'd entered the library around 7 p.m., planted herself in the sciences section, and steadily worked her way through a worn marine biology textbook. She got up to presumably use the restroom twice, but she was back in her seat within five minutes both times. Her head started to droop around 9:45 p.m., but she slapped her cheeks and kept reading until 10 p.m. when the library closed. Footage from the front showed her both entering and leaving the building without any unaccounted for time lapses.

She'd told the truth.

Felix nodded, sucking his top teeth irritably. Another dead end.

"All done?" Linhardt asked when the officer pushed back from the computer.

"For now. I'd like to request that you not delete the footage from the eighteenth until a representative from the GMPD tells you it's clear."

Linhardt nodded again. "As you wish. Anything else I can do for you?"

Felix shook his head and stepped towards the door, then wheeled around. "Are you familiar with the local mermaid legends?"

"Of course. Every October we have a lock-in at the library with the local kids where we tell the particularly gruesome versions of the myth. You'd think children would be scared, but the more blood the better it seems."

Felix frowned, cross-referencing his words against what he'd already learned from others. "There are multiple versions of the legends?"

"Oh, many. They all have prominent features in common, as you would expect: the stealing of hearts, for instance, and the connection to the deity Sothis." For the first time since the two had met, Linhardt's face lit up and he smiled. "Some details differ depending on who's telling the tale and who is listening. If asked around Lover's Day in February I might tell you the version where the sirens steal their victims hearts out of a misunderstanding of human love. If asked around Spirit's Wallow I'll probably tell you they tear their victims' hearts out with their teeth. Myths exist to connect us to one another, after all."

The existence of multiple versions of the legend did nothing to simplify the chaos in Felix's mind, but he couldn't find it in himself to respond negatively to something Linhardt was clearly so passionate about. "...I see. I may come back and ask you more, if that's alright with you."

Linhardt's smile deepened. "By all means. Knowledge is to be shared, not hoarded like a wyvern atop a mountain of treasure."

—

The heat of the day nearly stole Felix's breath when he stepped out of the cool library, and beads of sweat immediately bloomed over his chest and down his back. Damn this humidity, he lamented, pulling at his shirt and wishing for a good Faerghusian blizzard instead of this tropical summer.

"Hey there, stranger," a cheery voice called from his right.

He turned to see an unfamiliar redheaded woman waiting in the shade of one of the library's stone overhangs. Her long hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and her casual clothes gave no indication of her occupation. Felix jerked a nod in her direction, but said nothing.

When he continued down the library steps, the woman left her shaded spot and caught up with him. "Not one for small talk, are you?" She asked.

"No," Felix replied, walking faster.

She matched his pace, undaunted. "I'd like a moment of your time," she said, watching his face and paying little attention to where she was walking.

"I don't want whatever it is you're selling."

"Are you sure?" She laughed, her polite smile growing to a catlike grin. "Ashe Ubert might disagree, if he were here to give his opinion."

Felix stopped hard, full attention now captured. "Who are you?"

"A merchant who deals in information, Detective. A connoisseur of knowledge. I'll share it with you, what do you say?" Her voice dropped, and her eyes became piercing needles. "But not here. And not for free."

Felix looked her over, surprised and confused, until the notepad in her back pocket and multiple pens clipped to her messenger bag clicked a realization in his mind. "You're a journalist," he spat, walking again. "Get out of my way."

Her footsteps pattered behind him, and her voice was as determined as ever. "Haven't you wondered why your Captain Blaiddyd is here?" She asked at his back. "He didn't tell you he was coming, did he? He's acting strange, isn't he? Aren't you curious why he's handling this case differently than he's handled other cases?"

Her questions hit multiple bullseyes, and Felix nearly stumbled over an uneven stone in the path. He slowed, then stopped. "What's your price, you damn vulture?"

"A scoop," She replied. "Something the other media outlets don't know. I'm a vulture, like you say, so I'd like a nice corpse to circle."

Felix said nothing, but swallowed hard, ashamed that he was even considering her proposal. A sharp touch on his hand made him jump, but it was only the corner of a blank business card. When he flipped it over, an address and date were written on it.

"Think it over," she said breezily, her voice fading as she walked away. "I'll see you there."

Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far! Thank you to all who have reviewed-you are what keeps me going! Have a great day!