Chapter Three

Content Warning: Child Abuse, Suicide

She had swiped his paycheck.

Safely in her room, Ilona winced. She'd have to return it, somehow. She wasn't a thief.

But he'd know to blame her. He'd know she was investigating him.

Unless… Ilona tapped her chin with a hairpin. Perhaps she could pretend she'd used the money as part of the Eldian relief program, as some flavor of revenge.

Jack was going to kill her, and no wonder.

Ilona tossed a receipt for beer onto her bed. So he drank. She would too, if she had so miserable a conscience.

But where did he drink? Ilona picked the note up again and mourned her sanctimonious attitude. Had she been born in his shoes, would she be different? If she had been married to a drunken man who beat her, wouldn't she stay? If she couldn't stop her parents from fighting, wouldn't she tempt fate by straying outside her ghetto? What made her think she was no better than they, but better than Kruger?

Ilona shrugged and forced herself to focus. Raven's Pub. A notoriously crowded, sprawling pub by the docks frequented by soldiers and councilmembers alike. Even if she and Jack went the same night as he, they'd likely never spot him.

The last paper was in an unmarked envelope. A love letter? Ilona cringed away her conscience and opened it.

-Night Owl

We know first year qualifications are nearly upon us. The time has come for any necessary information to ensure the Hope graduates above all.

-Your brethren

This was an Eldian letter.

"By the devil's blood, why are you here, Ilona?" Jack slipped outside. "We've nothing to do tonight."

"I've made a mistake or two, but it hasn't been wholly for naught."

Jack harrumphed, but moved back. "Get in. And stay quiet; my wife won't take nicely to a beautiful young woman in our kitchen after dark."

Ilona snorted. "I see."

"I ran into Kruger this morning."

"What? How?!"

"I wasn't – I mean, I was in Liberio, for the relief program, and he insisted on speaking."

"Really? You thought appearing this morning was a safe idea?" Jack crossed his arms over his barrel chest.

"I figured he'd be sleeping, but apparently not." Ilona bit down on her lip. "He warned me against sympathizing with enemies; the expected remarks."

"So we're safe." Jack eyed her suspiciously.

"Well." Ilona had progressed to chewing on her lip. "We would be. If I hadn't dug deeper. Into his shirt."

"His shirt?" Jack blanched.

"I mean his sleeve." Ilona flushed. "He stores papers in there."

"That's good to know."

"Well, I stole a few."

"I'd have done the same when I was your age." Jack shrugged.

"Tell me, would you have taken his paycheck? At best, I can convince him I'm a vengeful thief. But he's going to notice." Ilona lowered her voice. "That's why I didn't come until now. It's all the more important that I can't be seen with you."

"I'm glad you realize that."

"But this story could be ended if they get too scared to continue." Ilona trailed off. If they were too scared to kill, wasn't that the goal anyway?

"Not if we dig deep enough."

"I might have grabbed something else." Ilona held out the note. "Have you ever heard of anyone called 'Night Owl?'"

"Hmm." Jack scanned the note. "No. But I will say that they're likely referring to the Marleyan Titan program."

"Yes, I thought so too."

Jack tugged on his beard. "They're clearly messaging a soldier who'd have access to these details. Unless this was intercepted…"

"Well, we can start by checking if our man Kruger has access to these details," Ilona said. "How far do your credentials carry?"

"Not into intimate military matters." Jack snorted. "Not that that's ever stopped me before."

Ilona rubbed her chin. "Would the mayor's council have access?"

"Possibly." Jack eyed her. "You'd have to be careful. Focused. When you're looking in places you're not supposed to, you can't be distracted."

"In and out," Ilona said.

"I don't trust your heart." Jack tapped the center of her forehead. "You're smart, but you're ruled by your heart."

"You act as if your head is better."

"Better isn't for me to determine. Safer, though – that's easy to prove." Jack smirked.

"I agree. And don't say that's not the problem – I know that!" She glared at him, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "But you know I'll have a much easier time than you."

"Fine." Jacks heaved a sigh. "Now get home with you."

"Yes, sir." Ilona saluted him before practically dancing out of his kitchen.

She liked this work far too much. Like he had before exhaustion overtook. Jack smiled to himself and shuffled upstairs slowly, debating how much to divulge to Muriel.

A letter in Werner's mailbox, left by him or to him. With all the traffic in and out of his shop, Werner hadn't determined his identity. And for his part, Kruger tried to convince himself Werner might not even be the author. He might not know about the letters. They were all safer in ignorance.

This exchange had never broken before.

Kruger pounded his pillow. He had no option but to wait and see if she would be smart enough to turn him in.

But oh, he knew she was.

He groaned and waited for a cold sleep. Not that sleep had ever released him from this prison.

"I wasn't expecting you, dear." Mayor Dieter Minsk smiled at his daughter.

"Yes, well, it's pleasant to see you." Ilona smiled back. "Although, I must admit I'm in need of your kindly assistance."

"Oh?" Dieter leaned back in his gold-tipped chair and folded his hands. Unlike some of his council who complained that their children only visited when they needed something, he was blessed with a daughter who loved visiting him for who he was. "Divulge."

"While on my way back from Liberio yesterday, I stumbled upon the paycheck of a soldier. I'd like access to the military records – or whatever it is that would give me his address. I'm assuming the records." Ilona clasped her hands.

"You assume correctly. My, quite careless of him."

Ilona blinked. "Perhaps, then, I can handle it, to keep you from knowing which soldier it is?"

"Ilona." Dieter shook his head. "I admire your merciful heart, but incompetence must be exposed. Ha – that being said, I hardly consider misplacing a slip of paper incompetent. I myself misplaced your mother's wedding ring once."

"Father!" Ilona laughed.

"She said she would marry me regardless, and that's when I knew we were perfect for each other. She loved me with my faults." Dieter smiled, engulfed in memories of happier times, before Raina's mind betrayed her.

"Is that a hint?" Ilona raised an eyebrow.

"Marry at your own pace, Ilona. Marry someone you would marry with his faults. Preferably sooner than later, according to your mother, but you'll not get my blessing until you find that person." Dieter stood. "Deal?"

"Deal. Shall we shake on it?" Ilona stuck out her hand, and with a chuckle, the mayor shook it. "You'll find military records on the fifth floor. The dusty attic, I'm afraid."

"I'll bathe before Mom sees me, then." Ilona waved good-bye and made for the stairs.

The only drawback to her excuse was that she felt honor-bound to follow through on it. Ilona trudged towards the military residential neighborhood, grimy with dust and sulking over another possible encounter with Kruger. Or Gross, for that matter. He would be even worse.

Kruger struck her as the silent, methodical type. Perhaps the brains behind the murderous trail he left with his partner.

If she dallied for long enough, she could meet Jack straight away and deliver her discovery.

Ilona stopped to smile sweetly at a young soldier, who sputtered and turned redder than blood.

"I don't suppose you could help me?" Pretending to be addle-headed would at least buy her some time.

"Y-yes, of course I can." Kristoph had to worry how bad his acne was today. Maybe she was too kind to care?

"I've a letter for one Sergeant Major Kruger. Can you show me where Nielsen Street is?" She blinked innocently.

"It's two down, on the left. Follow me!"

Damn, she hadn't counted on being so close. "Do you know if he's usually home around this time?"

"Not a clue. Me, I'm new here, fresh out of training – or mostly out. I still gotta pass my qualifications. I'm Kristoph, by the way."

"I'm Ilona. It's my pleasure to meet you. Qualifications: what do those usually consist of?"

"They push your physical and mental strength to its limit. Depends whether you've completed one or both years of training. I've done both."

"I hear they're having qualifications soon for the Titan Program."

"Yeah, but that's top secret. Or at least, their training is. I have no idea what they'll do to those kids. They're so young." Kristoph frowned.

"Do you not agree with training them?" Ilona asked gently, seizing the opportunity to hope in the military again.

"My opinion's of no matter. I'm not even qualified," Kristoph squeaked.

"So you don't. I don't, either." Ilona waited.

"I – I'd rather not talk about it. I'm very loyal, I promise."

"I have no doubt. Only the loyal ones question aloud, right?"

"I, well, I hope so. Um, oh. We're here." Kristoph halted before a dark cabin barely big enough for one person by the looks of it.

"I see. Well, thank you, Kristoph." She grabbed his hand. "Do you know this, um, Kruger?"

"Yeah, he reminds me of my dad, almost. Sorry, that sounds stupid."

"No, it doesn't. What do you mean?" Ilona frowned.

"He's kinda crusty on the outside, but once you get to know him, he's a master of teaching and really cares. He just doesn't know how to show it." Kristoph looked at the ground.

"You deserve someone to show you love."

"Oh." Kristoph giggled.

"Well, you do. Don't be so hard on yourself," Ilona persisted.

"I'll – I'll try. You too," Kristoph said, waving as he backed away. Girls scared him. He wanted to never encounter another.

"Good evening." She waved back before kneeling to slide the check under the door.

She'd just gotten it out of reach when the door swung open, sending her tumbling to her back.

Sergeant Major Kruger stared down at her. "Ilona Minsk."

Ilona scrambled to her feet. "I found this outside my house this morning. Seemed like something you might want."

"How thoughtful of you." Kruger took her by the wrist and slid his fingers up her sleeve, just as she had yesterday. "Last night there was wind."

"Lucky it didn't blow away then." Her dark eyes resembled saucers.

Kruger glowered down at her, but she refused to blink first. "Why didn't you just knock?"

"Our last meeting was quite unpleasant." Ilona wrinkled her nose. "As is this one."

"Seems we have a pattern of unfortunate meetings."

Was that a threat? Ilona couldn't discern. She needed Jack's streetwise knowledge. "Then you can release me. A simple thank you, and I'll be on my way."

His eyes darkened at her barb as his grip slackened. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Ilona bobbed her head and stepped back.

"Wait."

Ilona paused.

"Seems this was not the only paper I lost yesterday." Kruger waved the paycheck.

"Oh, dear. That's most unfortunate. What else did you lose? I'm sure I can ask around. But, like you said, it was windy last night." Ilona did her best to feign concern.

Kruger nodded briefly, his face unreadable.

"No, please tell me what you lost. I'm sure I can ask our servants," Ilona pressed. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, in the pulsing veins of her forehead.

Kruger's lips puckered at the word servants. What an impudent, spoiled socialite. "Nothing of great importance. A minor inconvenience, is all."

"But enough of one to ask," Ilona said seriously.

"Indeed." He spun around and stalked inside.

"Most likely he's familiar with a family who wants to help their child. Can't fault him for that."

"So he kills one night, befriends the next." Ilona furrowed her brow.

"You'd be surprised, the dichotomies humanity is capable of."

Ilona remembered Kristoph's praise. "I'm not sure this man fits a killer at all."

"Then what do you think?" Jack felt pride surge within him. Skepticism was a journalist's best friend.

"I don't know. I think we need to investigate him more. Following him and Gross, as we have been, but something more. I ought to speak with him, as we're already acquainted."

"And be more careful whilst following, no matter what," Jack said.

"I promise," said Ilona.

"What do you think speaking with him would do?"

"I plan on more than speaking. Getting to know him. To see what kind of man could kill children, then atone for his crimes with kindness. At the very least we'll have interesting psychology for the article, then."

"Or your dead body," Jack said sarcastically.

"Perhaps, but unlikely." Not for the first time, Ilona felt a twinge of guilt for her high status.

What sort of woman was kind enough to return stolen money, but not a note?

Only one who was after the note, perhaps for some sort of justice. Yes, that explained why she would feel guilt about stealing money but not a letter.

If she believed justice involved destroying oppressed people, she ought to be ashamed of herself. Kruger inhaled enough smoke to choke.

Unless she thought him a spy…

No, that was fear talking. Fuck fear. Most likely she thought him a child beater, or even a child killer like Gross.

Kruger blew out the smoke with rage. He wasn't Gross. He just became like him, allowed him to continue, because heaven knew you couldn't fight devils when you had your own demons.

He hadn't meant to let Gross grow this far.

Really.

He'd meant to lie low, so he hadn't turned him in the first time he'd sicced his dogs on a teenage runaway.

Or when he threatened to rape a homeless Eldian lady.

Even as his misgivings grew, he'd felt so ashamed for his waiting he'd begun wondering if Gross was perhaps an abnormality among even the Marleyans, and if so, should he should turn Gross in? And then those two children approached to watch the Zeppelin.

He still hadn't thought Gross would actually kill her. He'd been so naïve.

If he weren't a spy organizing a resistance, he would almost hope for Miss Minsk to arrest him, to appease his smoldering soul.

I'm sorry, he thought again. I'm sorry, Faye Jaeger.

He'd been too much a coward to memorize any other names, so to him, she had become them all.

"Hello there."

Her voice was all too merry for Kruger's peace of mind.

"What do you want?" He turned to face her, clutching his cup of coffee as if it were his weapon. In some sense, it was.

"I spoke to the servants, even my parents, and none of them saw another paper. I merely wished to send you my regrets."

"I appreciate your effort," he said tightly. She lies poorly. "Are you following me?"

Ilona laughed. "Were you not the one following me earlier this week?"

"I'll take that as a yes. I suggest you tread carefully, Miss Minsk." Kruger sipped his coffee. "You know what I'm capable of."

Ilona crossed her arms, rather pleased where he'd taken their conversation. As she closed the distance between them, she countered, "Oh, but I actually don't think I do. One night I see you as a criminal, another I'm told you're practically a saint among your fellow soldiers."

"By night you're a street rat insulting me to my face; by day, you're a high-bred lady veiling her true intentions." Kruger stared down at her.

She at least had the decency to blush. "I – I didn't quite insult you to your face. I insulted your partner. I…merely…made you uncomfortable. A distinct effort to make you uncomfortable."

Kruger tilted her chin up to look her in the eyes.

"Oh," he said with a smile, "but it was insulting."

Her mouth dropped as he strode away as quickly as possibly. "Prick! Hey! Wait! We've not finished our conversation!"

"Oh, but we have, fancy lady," he called over his shoulder.

Ilona was so much shorter than he, she had to run to keep pace. "If all you can insult me on is my wealth and looks – which aren't things I can help – you're as foolish as you are mysterious! Just like the Eldians can't help how they're born."

Kruger halted. "Alas, the poor, poor Eldians. Pity them, born as monsters. Luckily, they'll be saved by you in your rich Marleyan glory."

Her hand cut across his face before he'd seen it coming. She'd had to jump, but damn, she was strong. Blood dribbled down his face. "Fuck!"

"Oh, fuck yourself," she spat, stepping on his toes to tug at his handkerchief as he raised it to his face.

Her eyes blazed. "Don't you ever insult them again. Have you ever considered that the problem isn't them; it's us considering them monsters just for being different?!"

"Those are dangerous sentiments, little lady." Now blood was in his coffee. Witch.

Her voice softened. "More dangerous than not being allowed to think them?"

"That's not for me to decide." Kruger tossed the rest of his coffee onto the cobblestone streets.

"Oh." Her shoulders slumped. "Um…hold on, sir. I'll buy you another coffee."

"Don't worry about it. I'm late."

"I'm going to worry about it." She hurried back to the stand, leaving Kruger debating whether to run off and infuriate her more, or stay and try convincing her to back off through friendlier methods. Whatever friendlier methods meant. He'd never really allowed himself too much kindness. Kindness bred closeness, and closeness meant danger.

She scampered back with two larger coffees in her coffee-colored hands. "Here." She handed him one. "I'm sorry about your nose."

"Not the first time I've had that happen. Although this may be the first time I've brawled with a rich lady." Ah, she'd ordered coffee with cream. Just how he liked it. She definitely had an eye for detail, and that worried him more. He started down the hill, towards Liberio.

"Ha!" Ilona grinned and followed him. He'd slowed his pace enough that she didn't have to run this time.

"Fancy imp, I should say."

"I prefer that to 'rich or fancy lady.'" Ilona shrugged. "I'm not helpless."

"So my nose knows."

She winced. "I lose my temper. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. Apologies change nothing," he said gruffly.

Her eyes widened. "Oh, but they do. They at least let you know the other person knows they were wrong – well, if it is a sincere apology."

"Hmmph." Kruger wished he had such luxury to agree.

Liberio came into sight. "I'm on an official investigation. Into you, if you'll recall. So you best scamper away and give toys to unfortunate children or whatever else it is you do."

And he had to drop off a note on the Marleyan Titan program Year One requirements, based on his educated guess that the note he's lost had asked for such information.

He hadn't spoken like he intended to turn her in. So he was the type to bend the rules. Ilona nodded. "Good day to you, Sergeant Major Kruger."

Her dark, windblown curls barely concealed her red smirk. If she weren't so infuriating, she would be quite breathtaking.

Dad was screaming again and Mom was bleeding again.

Tiberius clamped his hands over his ears and rocked back and forth in his corner.

I wanna die, I wanna die, I wanna die, he chanted. As long as he had the option of escape through death, he could breath.

"Stop!" screamed Sally suddenly, shoving herself between them.

Tiberius had long dreamed about this day. He knew how this should go: he should follow her, calmly tell Dad this was wrong, and Dad would leave and never bother them again.

But fear pushed him down.

"Get the fuck out of my way!" Dad's foot launched. With a sickening crack of her ribs, Sally sunk to the ground.

Tiberius gasped.

Dad turned around with a menacing scowl. "You want it too, bastard?!"

"No," Alma moaned, grabbing for Dad's arm with one hand as the other clutched Sally.

Tiberius shrieked and ran for the door. Dad dove for him, but Tiberius's fingers were too nimble. The handle sprung open, as he'd practiced so often in his nightmares, and he flew into the streets.

He scrambled for the doctor's shop, shoved an old man who dropped his pocket watch and plowed through a throng of old ladies, and just outside his destination collided into Zeke Jaeger.

"Ow!" Zeke jumped back, clutching a stuffed monkey. "My head!"

"I'm sorry," Tiberius sobbed. Now they'd hate him, too. Zeke already should.

"Are you okay, child?" Dina Jaeger – a pretty woman he'd seen Dad whistle at – knelt before Tiberius. One hand rubbed Zeke's shoulder, the other Tiberius'. Not unlike Mom grabbing Dad and Sally.

"Dad! Dad's going to kill me," he half-screamed, half-sobbed.

Dina's eyes flashed, and her grip tightened on Tiberius. "Oh no. No one's killing anyone, I promise. Zeke, go get Father. Hey – hey, you, you're safe now."