"It's wonderful, darling," Eleanor whispered. "You don't know how I enjoy that, coming from such poor circumstances." She blushed and dropped her gaze.
Archibald squeezed her arm, and looked around. A lot of people in elegant robes were drinking, laughing, and chatting merrily. A chamber orchester was filling the elegant palace hall with pleasant classical music.
Vivi Gregorius, wearing a long narrow claret-coloured dress with a low-cut back, and matching high heels, stroked her short platinum-blonde spiky shock of hair. She was talking animatedly to a tall, broad-shouldered wizard, wearing an elegant dress coat.
"Look who's there, Archie. What is she doing here?" Eleanor breathed in her husband's ear. A strand of her blonde hair tickled his nose.
"I suppose she knows a lot of people," the black-clad Archibald answered, smiling at his beautiful wife, who had linked her gloved slender arm through his. "Has to. For what she's doing she needs to be well-connected."
Before Gwen could learn what else they were whispering the memory ended. Gwen got out of the pensieve. I'm curious what the Aurors will make of this memory.
She ruffled her short brown curls, and took a deep breath, ready to plunge a second time into the pensieve to get a closer look, when the office door opened abruptly.
Jonathan entered, Evelyn Anderson in tow. "Please sit down," he pointed to a chair in front of his desk.
"I really don't know why I'm to be interrogated again," Evelyn complained.
"I just wanted to ask you a few questions," Jonathan shut the door with a bang. "Please don't make such a big fuss."
"Do you want me to leave?" Gwen asked in a low voice. She didn't really want to, and hoped her tone of voice would make them negate her question. It worked. It's magic, she thought.
"Oh, no," Evelyn replied angrily. "Since it'll be only a few harmless questions, it won't be necessary to talk privately."
Jonathan, who had opened his mouth to answer Gwen's question, shut it again. Gwen looked at him, he nodded at her quietly, intimating that she could stay.
Jonathan sat down in his own chair.
"Runespoor fang venom, armadillo bile, daisies, sopophorous beans, and ginger – doesn't that ring a bell?" Jonathan asked Evelyn straight away.
"Do you want to assert you've found runespoor fang venom in my lab?" she asked, in a slightly shrill voice.
"That's the only thing we didn't find in your laboratory," Jonathan shot at her. "Now please answer my question."
"The ingredients you mention make up a potion called Invisibiliserum, as far as I know. I've never worked with it."
"But aren't you the poison expert of the Department of Mysteries?" Jonathan asked innocently.
"I wouldn't call myself that." Evelyn put her pudgy hands on the desk in front of her, straightening her back. "My position is partly sponsored by the Wallace and Avalon Apothecary, one of the most renowned magical pharmacies in South England."
"I know. So you are not an Unspeakable, are you?"
"No. But nevertheless I am bound to a high degree of secrecy, according to…"
"I know, I know," Jonathan lifted his hands, frowning. "Everyone in here is. Now tell me why you store all the ingredients to whip up Invisibiliserum except runespoor fang venom, and affirm to not work with it."
Evelyn crossed her arms over her huge bosom. "Dear me! Armadillo bile is a rather harmless ingredient compared to all the other substances I work with in my laboratory. It is widely known as an ingredient for making a whit-sharpening potion. I find it also very useful in other compositions, but won't tell you anymore about it, because these are trade secrets. I do understand if you're suspicious about sopophorous beans, which are quite another matter. Together with valerian roots and asphodel in an infusion of wormwood," Gwen gave a sudden jerk, "they are used in the Draught of Living Death, with which I've been experimenting lately. But please, Mr Hope, I implore you to treat this information confidential." She knitted her hands.
"What kind of wormwood?" Gwen asked, who was not even pretending that she was working with the victim's brain.
"Artemisia absinthium," Evelyn replied automatically, looking at her in astonishment.
"Not a singing wormwood?"
"No," Evelyn laughed, "that's something very different." Gwen would have loved to hear more about the plant, but Jonathan continued his interview.
"The Draught of Living Death?" Jonathan asked her, trying to get back to topic.
"Well, I suppose you as an Auror know that it's nothing lethal, but only a very strong sleeping potion," Evelyn said sneering.
"Of course," Jonathan hastened to answer.
Gwen suppressed a grin, since she knew that Jonathan had been abysmal in Potions at school.
He had told her that after having taken his NEWTs at Hogwarts he had gone abroad for a while, then had been a dragon keeper and a writer, and ultimately worked some years with a potioneer to make up for his knowledge gaps in potion-making before he started a career as an Auror.
"Now, as for daisies and ginger," Evelyn continued, almost rolling her eyes, "I hope I needn't explain them…"
"If you needed runespoor fang venom," Jonathan ploughed on, ignoring her haughty manner, "where would you procure it?"
"I think there are two or three very good manufacturers", Evelyn said elusively. "I don't need it, so I haven't any contact with them."
Jonathan leant forward. "If you work for Wallace and Avalon, you certainly know who the manufacturers are. And don't tell me that they are the only ones who sell the venom. I suppose some apothecaries do so, too."
Gwen wondered whether Bob had told Jonathan where he obtained his supplies from.
Evelyn got up, sighing. "All right, I'll get you some addresses, where you can make further enquiries. But I have to look them up in my laboratory. Would you please follow me, Mr Hope."
They left the office. Gwen stayed behind, impressed by Jonathan's course of action.
The office was suddenly deadly silent. Gwen caught herself thinking that she missed the singing wormwood. She sighed and returned to the pensieve, hoping she could find anything of interest inside the newly found memory.
~ooOOooOOooOOooOOoo~
Wednesday, 6 July 1994
"T'sais, next week I'm going on a holiday with the kids. We're going to Port Grimaud on the Côte d'Azur for three weeks," Isabelle's pale face beamed like the sun.
"Oh, that sounds wonderful!" Gwen put down her wand, and the brain in the tank in front of her wobbled a bit.
"I wanted to ask you whether you could continue my work on the 'Legilimency waves', perhaps combining it with your Occlumency findings?" Isabelle took up her wand and indicated on some of the brains in the large tank. "It would mean more work for you in the Brain Room again. But I think you wouldn't mind that, now would you?" She grinned conspiratorially.
"Has Agatha Hill given her approval?" Gwen asked.
"Yes. I've asked her. She says you've managed to divide your time between working with Crow in the Death Chamber and continuing for some hours in here, so that should be no problem." Isabelle lowered her voice. "Apart from that Crow should now be able to do some more work on the victim's brain."
Gwen felt a pang of uncertainty and mistrust when she heard Isabelle's last sentence. "Did Mrs Hill say so?" she asked, trying to sound unperturbed.
"No, of course not, she didn't tell me about 'the victim's brain', but I think that was more or less her meaning."
"I really envy you," Gwen sighed. "I'd like to get out of here for some weeks, thinking of nothing else than the sun and the sea and a lovely evening in a French restaurant."
Isabelle laughed. "The kids are thrilled. I hope I can keep them in check till next Monday. When will you take your summer holidays?"
Gwen shrugged. "I don't know yet. Apart from the few days you and I got for the Quidditch World Cup final I haven't been able to make plans. For me, the investigation of the murder is first priority, and Jonathan…"
She fell silent. Jonathan had been gone to find out who had bought a certain assortment of ingredients recently.
"Do you want to go on a holiday with him when your case is closed?" Isabelle asked, smiling innocently.
"What an idea!" Gwen exclaimed and threw a cleaning sponge after Isabelle. "He is so absorbed in his case that he can't think of anything else – like leading a private life, for instance."
They had only met some hours during the last week-end when Jonathan had told her that he was Apparating to and fro across the whole British Isles to interrogate apothecaries, potioneers and potion suppliers.
"Alors, moi, I hope you'll solve that mystery soon," Isabelle looked suddenly earnest. "I don't like the way the atmosphere in the Department of Mysteries has changed. Everyone is looking at each other with suspicion and mistrust. Haven't you, too, noticed that?"
Gwen nodded her assent. "You're right. I've got the impression that everyone keeps to themselves. Especially in the Death Chamber. First I thought it was only because I am an outsider, so to speak, but Manisha, whom you could call an outsider too, since she works for that Hindi millionaire, told me the other day that it had been different before. And it was. I am on first-name terms with some of the staff. But the climate has become colder during the last weeks."
She took up her wand to resume her work with Ernie, thinking about Manisha.
~ooOOooOOooOOooOOoo~
Sunday, 10 July 1994
"What about Macnair?" asked Miss Carthew, snipping some wilted blossoms off her Falstaff roses.
"I think Mrs Beresford is still keeping an eye on him. They can't arrest him as they have no proof of his involvement in the murder, or in the Black escape, but perhaps this way it'll be easier to find out who his accomplice is," Gwen said, taking up one of the blossoms, which still gave off a bit of scent. "Did I tell you that Macnair knows one of the Death Chamber staff, Manisha Cullen? I for one like her, she's always been friendly towards me. I can't imagine that shehelped him to enter the Chamber. Why should she? And what's more – Macnair spoke to her openly, and he wouldn't if he wanted to hide this connection to the Death Chamber, would he?"
"Well," Miss Carthew hesitated. Manisha being a likeable person wasn't enough for her, Gwen could tell. "I'll have to think about that. And the Aurors think Macnair helped Sirius Black to escape after the latter had been caught by Professor Severus Snape at Hogwarts?"
Gwen shrugged. "Don't you think so? One Death Eater helping the other?"
"Strange things are happening," Miss Carthew mused, "a prisoner escapes from Azkaban of all places, horcruxes are researched in the Ministry, known Death Eaters are doing whatever they like." She brandished her secateurs as if wanting to threaten an invisible enemy. Her eyes flashed. Gwen had never seen her this way.
"Mark my words," the old lady said. "I've never believed that Voldemort is truly defeated."
Gwen flinched at the mentioning of the name, fumbling at the red blossom she had picked up.
"It's all so confusing. Macnair had obviously known the victim and has no alibi for the time of the murder, but he says he wouldn't even dream of killing him since Archibald had been a pure-blood. Which seems logical. But perhaps not so if you consider that Archibald and Mayfield worked on horcruxes. A dark wizard like Macnair might be interested in such dark magic. On the other hand Macnair couldn't have entered the Department. The murderer seems to be dangerous and daring, and yet didn't use the Killing Curse, but rather a poison. Someone seems to know the Death Chamber like the back of their hand, but is gormless enough to leave the mug with the poison in the victim's office while the victim is found elsewhere – with a Dark Mark above him."
Gwen shook her curls as if trying to clear her head.
"That's a wonderful summary of some of the finer points of this case, my dear." Miss Carthew laid down her secateurs and got out her wand, pointing it at some greenfly on the roses. "Ah! The mug. What else do we know about the mug?" The greenfly dissolved. Some little black ants beat a hasty retreat.
"It was Archie's mug," Gwen replied, remembering what Mayfield had told her. "Mayfield told me so. According to him it was a present from Eleanor, Archibald's wife. He said that the mug had an inscription that read 'Have a happy tea break, Archie' and only appeared with hot tea inside, and when Archie drank from it."
"Which means nobody can prove now that there was such an inscription and that it was Archie's mug. Or that Eleanor gave it to him. Have you or Jonathan asked the widow whether this is true?" Miss Carthew asked shrewdly.
Gwen's mouth dropped open. She hadn't thought of this possibility. "This might be important, mightn't it?" she nearly whispered.
Miss Carthew nodded, taking off her gardening gloves. "You never know. Don't you go to the Magic Gym with her and some other colleagues once in a while?"
Gwen nodded. Her sporting prowess had finally improved a bit, and she still liked to be near Roberta. If she was honest she still fancied her, even though she liked Jonathan, too. Thinking of Roberta made her blush and she hastily occluded her mind, as strongly as she could. She still had the impression that Miss Carthew was able to read her thoughts.
"Yes, but I haven't had the opportunity to find out more about Archibald from her. It's too awkward to try to talk about her murdered husband when doing sports. But I'll give it a try as soon as I see her again."
~ooOOooOOooOOooOOoo~