A/N: Thanks to everyone for continuing to read and comment on this story. The next part might be a bit graphic for some, so please be warned! Thanks!

Equals

Chapter 4

The musketeers re-entered the morgue and were greeted by the mortician who was as grim as his calling.

"I warn you," he said lifting the sheet, "This one's not pretty."

Porthos gasped when he saw the body and D'Artagnan turned away.

On the table lay the body of a slightly older noblewoman. Streaks of silver were visible in her hair. She was still beautiful despite her age. She had worn her dress low, her shoulders exposed in an attempt to appear more youthful. The dress was made of the richest fabric. It was damp to the touch. There was bruising on her neck, but it was what was below her throat that had so unsettled the musketeers.

Just above her bodice, the words "Common Whore" had been carved into the flesh of her chest.

"She was found on the street," the mortician said. "It had rained last night."

"She was also strangled to death," Aramis said softly, raising the sheet to cover the offensive words.

"Is that what killed her?" Porthos asked sadly.

Aramis nodded his head. "If this…if this had been done while she was alive, the front of her dress would have been soaked through with blood…despite the rain," he said as he crossed himself and blessed the woman before covering her completely.

"Do we know who she is?" D'Artagnan asked. His eyes were brimming. Seeing this devastation, what had been done to these women, was proving to be difficult for the young Gascon to bear.

"This was the Madame de Maronne. A Baroness. She was a good woman," said Aramis sadly. The others didn't need to ask how he knew.

"Can you think of a reason that someone may have wanted to hurt her?" Athos asked softly, laying a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Aramis sighed under the comfort of the pressure of the man's hand. He turned to look at him, his dark eyes filled with the sorrow that Athos felt was far too frequently present in his sensitive brother; this always lit a fire of vengeance in Athos against whoever brought pain to the brother he loved.

"Madame de Maronne hosted one of the liveliest salons in Paris. Porthos and I have been on many occasions. The Baroness had no children, but I had heard that recently she had taken a new lover – one of her grooms. It was said the two were even considering marriage."

"Should we take him in for questioning?" D'Artagnan asked.

Athos shook his head. "I don't think so. It's not the crime that has me unsettled, but the way the bodies are being shamed after the women are deceased. "Common Whore" scarred across the breast of a noble woman? What did these women have in common?"

"They are both flouting the system," Aramis said morosely. "Marie was marrying up, while the Baroness would be seen to be marrying beneath her."

Athos nodded grimly. "We need to find who's responsible and end this. Now. Before any others are hurt."

"We should go back and speak to the Viscomte. He may have something to tell us if his father is away," said Aramis.

D'Artagnan looked thoughtful. "I think we should pay a visit to the Baron de Carbonne as well," he said slowly. The others turned to look at him. He blushed slightly, but stood his ground.

"The Baron was with the King when Marie's body was discovered," said Athos.

"I know, but he was arguing with Christine the other day about the value of the nobility over the common man. It might be nothing, but it could be a lead…" said D'Artagnan

"I agree," said Porthos. "He was getting very heated. Didn' like the way he spoke abou' Christine's family neither."

"Good suggestion D'Artagnan. Let's split up. Aramis, you and Porthos track down the Viscomte. D'Artagnan and I will speak with the Baron."

oOo

The two musketeers stood silently in the marble parlour as they waited for the Baron.

"Gentlemen," he said curtly as he entered the room and took his seat behind his desk. He removed his gold pocket watch and pointedly opened it and set it on the surface in front of him. Athos bit his cheek.

"Thank you for speaking with us, Your Grace," D'Artagnan ventured.

"Of course," said the man calmly. "When the King's musketeers ask for the assistance of their betters, it is my duty to at least hear their troubles." His arrogance was so strong it wafted off him like an odour. Perhaps that was why he was so heavily perfumed, D'Artagnan thought.

"We are looking into the murders of two women of the court – Marie Pont-Neuf and the Baroness de Maronne."

"It's a shame," said the man indifferently. "Sometimes however a garden needs to be weeded in order for the rest of the plants to prosper," he said.

"These were two innocent women." D'Artagnan said coldly.

"Then I'm sure they will be rewarded in the afterlife. I am not sure how I can assist you in your quest. Their deaths are tragic, yes. Do I mourn for them? I cannot honestly say that I do. One dared to tarnish an ancient house with the slime from the floors that she should have been mopping, and the other, a grown woman playing at the debutante and threatening to throw her lands, her title and her honour away on some stable boy?" The man's face appeared as though it was carved from stone, unflinching as it delivered these cold words with a masterful indifference. "I will not mourn their deaths. Perhaps the Baroness's nephew will do a better job of running the estate. Weeds like these need to be pulled."

"Even if these weeds were to reside in your own garden?" Athos asked.

The Baron looked at Athos, surveying his face and countenance. "I know you," he said. "You are Guillaume's son. The Comte de la Fere."

"I am that no longer," Athos said, ice in each word at the mention of his father and his former title.

"Your father would be ashamed of what you have brought your estate to. You are a disgrace to all those whose name you bear. You were unworthy of all that was bestowed upon you."

"I shall take that as a compliment," Athos said, and turning on his heel, he and D'Artagnan left the parlour without being dismissed, leaving the Baron fuming.

oOo

Back at the garrison, the musketeers recounted their findings for Treville.

The captain frowned as he listened to Athos' description of their meeting with the Baron.

"I thought the Baron was with the King when the body was discovered?" he said, narrowing his eyes at the flush that had crept into Athos' normally controlled face as he spoke.

D'Artagnan began, "That was my suggestion sir…The Baron had made some comments –"

Athos interrupted, "The Baron has been known on more than one occasion to discriminate against anyone that he deems below him. The comments he made to us were – "

"Did anyone see the Baron anywhere near the scene of the crimes?" said Treville stopping his lieutenant before he could continue his diatribe.

Athos took a deep breath to collect himself. "No, but Aramis has said that both women were murdered before their bodies were desecrated the way they were."

Treville's blue gaze flickered to Aramis who straightened slightly and nodded firmly in support of his brother. Treville sighed and closing his eyes for a moment, he brought his hand up to console his temple.

"The Baron and the Comte are currently in close favour with the King – we won't be able to confront them again without some hard evidence."

"But Captain – "

"Hard evidence. The King will not hear of any ills against them without it. Understood?"

His men nodded, accepting the challenge.

Treville looked at his musketeers and felt that familiar tingling at the base of his neck that seemed to flare up whenever these four had that look…

He dismissed them and hoped that they would somehow be able to find those responsible for these murders without getting themselves into trouble too.

oOo

"So, what's the plan?" Porthos asked as the musketeers left Treville's office and assembled at their usual table.

"We find these monsters before anyone else is hurt," snapped Athos. Porthos and D'Artagnan frowned at their brother's response.

"Are you alright?" Aramis asked softly.

Athos spun sharply but stopped short at the worried expressions on the faces of the others. Three differing sets of brown eyes full of concern stared back at him.

"I'm sorry…this whole scenario, where these women are targeted for not adhering to the class system at court…it's bringing up foul memories and anger that I thought I was long rid of." He took a deep calming breath before continuing. "It's difficult to describe what kind of a hell I grew up in – especially since I know how privileged I was. I never had to worry about where our food was coming from or worry about the weather or work or if there'd be wood in the fire. Day after day though I was taught that as the future Comte, I was somehow better than other people – still not as good as my parents wanted me to be, but I was forbidden to socialize with anyone whose status was beneath mine. And they were strict about it. I was lonely, and I didn't understand – couldn't understand – how the odds of my birth made me different from anyone else."

Athos cleared his throat. "Speaking with the Baron…knowing the fervour with which some people cling to these archaic beliefs…I feel the same frustration I did as a boy at the injustice of it all."

The men were silent for a moment as they imagined the harshness of Athos' upbringing.

"I'm sorry Athos. I shouldn't have mentioned the Baron," D'Artagnan began.

Athos shook his head. "No, you were right to. I believe it's still a good lead. We just need to find a way to prove that the he was somehow involved in these murders."

He frowned again and Aramis reached out to lay a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Athos, you are not the man that your family tried to force you to be. You are better," he said, his eyes blazing brightly.

Athos smiled softly. "Was there any luck with the Viscomte?"

"We found the Viscomte in an inn. It seemed as though he has spent his inheritance on cheap wine," Porthos reported. "He knows something, but he's too far gone right now to be of use," he said.

"What do we do now?" D'Artagnan asked.

"We wait. We need to get the Viscomte to speak. He's our only lead."

oOo