Diamond for Dwarves - A Jasper Blake Mystery (Part 3)

Chapter 4

Jasper and I arrived at the Stahlgrau Haus rather late that evening. Most of the boarders have finished cleaning up their supper dishes, so we said “good night” and left for our rooms.

I took a quick bath and after entering today’s events in my ledger, I went to bed. At around two o’clock I woke up to a sound. When I listened I heard nothing else, I was about to go back to sleep when I heard something outside. Quietly, I approached the window and looked down into the back yard where the fence separated the property between the Stahlgrau Haus and the other boarding house behind it.

The moon was out that night, giving off an eerie light. A tall figure of a man leaned against a tree located near the fence. He was dressed in his pajamas; the light colour of his hair told me it was Jasper.

What is Jasper doing out in the yard this late at night? I wondered as I continued to watch from the window. He moaned with his hand to his head, his body swaying as in pain. He leaned against the tree and began to sob like a wounded man.

I felt the urge to help him, but asked myself if it would be wise to approach him. What if he was sleepwalking? I didn’t have to worry because after a few minutes, Jasper slowly straightened himself and walked back to his boarding house.

The next morning, the boarders sat around the breakfast table. I glanced at Jasper over the rim of my teacup as we sat across from each other. He looked like his usual self.

“Is there something on my face?” he asked, biting into his toast.

I quickly looked away, realizing that I was staring at him longer than I intended.

“Well-well, Jasper,” Ian teased, “Care to share with us what ye did to catch the lady’s attention?”

I spewed my tea, Jasper nearly choked on his toast.

“It’s not what you think,” he protested, “And you nearly made me choke on my breakfast!”

“Something’s going on between Jasper and Cassisa?” Rosemary jumped in as she brought another pot of tea.

“There’s nothing going on!” Jasper and I said in unison.

Ian, Harris, Merl, and Rosemary studied us. Rusty took a big gulp of his tea.

“Rosemary, may I have some more of that tea, please?” he asked, holding out his cup.

I took that opportunity to finish my tea and grabbed the remainder of my toast and jam. “I’m off. I’ll see you at the office, Jasper,” I said as I eagerly left the dining hall and out the door.

Just as I opened the gate, Jasper’s hand suddenly appeared and held it still.

“What is it, Cassisa?” He stood in my path.

“What is what?”

“I could tell something is bothering you. What is it?”

“We’re going to be late; I’ll tell you on the way.”

“Personally, I would like to know right now.”

“With an audience?” I gestured with my head towards the house, sensing five pairs of eyes watching us from the front door.

Jasper groaned.

“Like I said, perhaps it is better if I told you on the way to work?” I suggested.

We caught a hansom, Jasper told the driver (Matthews was his name) to take the scenic route by going around the city’s atrium on our way to the office.

“So, what was it that you were going to tell me?” This man was not willing to let the matter go easily.

“I happened to see you in the garden last night,” I quietly told him, “I was wondering if you were okay.”

“When was this?”

“Around two o’clock.” I then added, “I saw you bending over leaning against that tree near the back fence. You seemed – to be in pain. I wanted to ask you then, but it was late and I…” I trailed off, unsure of how to explain what I saw, “I was wondering if you were sleepwalking. Were you all right?”

I felt Jasper’s eyes on me. I was scared to look at him. Did I just cross the line? Did I get into a place where he did not want me to step into?

“I’m sorry.”

Something soft and heavy lay on my head; it was Jasper’s big hand patting my head. “Don’t apologize. I am glad you told me.”

I looked at him and saw that he was not upset or angry.

“I did not know you saw that,” he said reclaiming his hand.

He took a deep breath and said, “I know I am putting this off when I say this, but I promise you, I will – talk about it. In the mean time, we have a case to solve.” Jasper immediately gave a different address.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To pay Lavinia a visit.”

The place that Gavin had written in his ledger was a large three storey mansion located in Moore-Havens, a residential area located in eastern part of Oxen Basin for the rich and upper class. The place was owned by a man by the name of Rineaux Willowdales who lived in a mansion with his adopted daughter. The Willowdales were an elven family that owned a trading and imports businesses in Oxen Basin.

Upon arrival at the Willowdale residence, the butler of the home sent us away after we gave our reason for the visit.

“Mr. Willowdale is not here. He is at his office.” The butler, a man with black thinning hair and a hooked nose, sniffed. Though he was an inch shorter than me, yet somehow he managed to look down at both of us.

Over the man’s head I saw a young woman who appeared to be in her twenties if she was a human, possibly in her fifties as an elf. Very pretty with yellow hair piled on her head and large green eyes the colour of new leaves in spring. She wore a high collared lace dress of champagne gold and rose pink with lace about the collar and sleeves – the woman whom the waiter at the Oronean restaurant had described to us. Her eyes briefly caught mine, as she stepped out from a room into the main hall.

“We are here to see Miss. Lavinia.” I told the man.

The man narrowed his eyes. “Miss. Lavinia is ill today and would not be having visitors.” He glanced over his shoulder and closed the door completely. “Please leave.”

With a “good day” Jasper tipped his hat, taking my shoulder he gently steered me away from the door.

“They’re hiding something!” I hissed. “I saw her in there!”

Jasper only nodded.

“Excuse me.” We both turned at a voice. A young rilud woman in a maid’s uniform approached us. “I believe this is yours.” She held out a lace handkerchief.

“That’s not ours,” I started, but Jasper reached over and took the item.

“Thank you,” he smiled. The maid bobbed a curtsy and went around the yard towards the back of the house.

Jasper opened the handkerchief. Immediately he folded it again. A grin filled his face. “Let’s go, Cassisa,” he said.

The moment I stepped into the hansom, Jasper handed me the office key. “I want you to return to the office and finish filing,” he said, then told the driver to take me back to the office.

“Wait! What about you?” I called back at him.

“I’ll see you at the office.” He replied with a wave.

On my way to the office I remembered we were out of chalk. I had Matthews make a stop at a store on the way.

As I left the store after making my purchases, I saw someone climbing out of the window at one of the buildings. The man’s shirt was unbuttoned with his undershirt showing. A woman poked her head out of the window and gave the man a passionate kiss. Embarrassed, I quickly turned away. Some people are certainly bold with their show of affection, I thought to myself as I kept walking. I jolted, seeing large form appear landing in my path. It was the man who escaped from the window. His back was to me as waved at his lover throwing her a kiss. He spun towards me and froze.

“Cassisa?” It was Ian McAlvin.

Wait a minute! Did I just see Ian climb out of the window, after having his tryst with a woman? Well, he’s good looking even when he looks – what the heck am I thinking?! My mind panicked at seeing Ian’s semi-dressed state.

“Cassisa? Yoo-hoo!” I saw Ian wave his hand before my face.

“Ian?” I heard myself say, finally finding my faculty of speech.

“Ye looked like ye were lost there. Are y’all right?” He spoke as he tucked his now buttoned shirt into his trousers.

Just when I was about to say something, we both turned to a sound of a crash and a man shouting Ian’s name while the woman begged the man to “not hurt him”.

“Time to go!” Ian grabbed my shoulder and led me away. Seeing Matthews waiting for me Ian jumped into the hansom dragging me with him. “Full speed ahead, Matthews!” Ian said with glee.

We sped out of the area towards Jasper’s office in record time.

“Excellent timing, Matthews!” Ian said tossing a silver maple to the driver. “Keep the change!”

“Miss?” I turned to Matthews. “We’re here, Miss.”

“Oh, thank you.” I reached into my purse.

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. McAlvin paid the fare.”

“Oh,” I replied, still dazed.

“Are you all right, Miss?”

I nodded dumbly, “Mmm-hmm.” I stepped out from the hansom and made my way up to the office.

The moment I entered the office and saw Ian had straightened his clothes smoking a cigarette at an open window.

“Hope ye won’t mind,” he said, holding up his cigarette.

“No,” I nervously shook my head, “as long as you have the window open.” I stood there briefly. Why was I here again? I was told to get something done.

“Looks like there’s some things on the desk for ye,” he nodded towards Jasper’s desk.

“Oh,” I looked at the desk and saw a few sheets of paper and a chess piece. I mumbled my thanks and approached, avoiding Ian by taking the extra steps to get to the items.

“Ye know, I won’t bite.” He smiled.

I nodded. On Jasper’s desk was a stack of files. Oh, yes, filing! I remembered.

Then my eye caught something on his desk; it was the chess piece he had received from Merl at the morgue. I remembered Jasper’s eyes widen the moment he found the piece in the envelope. Next to the piece was a small note made up of words and letters cut up from a newspaper. It said, “Hello, AP.” At the bottom of the note was a picture of a black rook.

“Cassisa?” I jumped.

“Sorry to scare ye, but I guess ye didn’t hear me,” Ian McAlvin said kindly.

I gave him a nervous smile. “Don’t worry about it.” Looking at the note I asked him, “Did you…?” I began waving over the strange note and chess piece.

“Did I what?” Ian asked.

“Uh, never mind.”

“If ye’re wondering why I’m here,” Ian held up a black pocket ledger and smiled. “I’ve some leads for Jasper.”

“Oh, he…uh, had to run.” I explained, “But he wants me to take a message.” I held out my hand.

He placed the ledger in my hand.

“Mind if I copy it?” I asked him.

“Sure.” He sat on the couch and brought out another cigarette.

“Here,” I placed an old saucer before him to use as an ashtray.

“Thanks.” He lit up and inhaled.

I opened Ian’s ledger and began to take notes using a pen on Jasper’s desk. Finding that it was out of ink, I opened the drawers to find a tube of ink in one of the drawers and found an open cigarette case with a photograph inside.

“Something wrong?” I heard Ian ask.

“I can’t seem to find a working pen.” I closed the drawer.

“Here, use this,” he got up from his seat and graciously handed me his pencil. I thanked him and quickly copied down his notes onto a clean sheet of paper.

“Gonna make us some tea, want some?” he offered.

“Oh, I could do that!” I put the pencil down.

“Ye keep writing, I’ll make some.” He entered the kitchen.

“The tea is in a tin in the top left cupboard.” I called after him. I went back to copying as fast as I could so I would not keep Ian waiting too long.

By the time, Ian brought two cups of tea, I was done.

“Thank you,” I accepted my cup. “Also, thank you for this.” I returned his pencil and ledger.

He took both from me. “Ye’re welcome,” he said with a charming smile.

I distracted myself by taking a sip of my tea, hoping to hide my flushing face.

“So, what made ye work for Jasper?” He asked suddenly, probably to ease tension.

“I just wanted a job to pay my rent,” I explained. “He hired me on the spot.”

A knowing smile played on his lips. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“And how do ye like your new job?”

“I have a lot to learn about being an assistant – especially for a consulting detective.” After taking another sip I asked, “So what do you do, Ian?”

“I am Jasper’s informer.” Ian explained, he pulled up a chair and sat down across from me. I followed by sitting at Jasper’s desk with the desk separating us.

“So, what does an informer do?”

“I do some research, ask around and find information for Jasper’s investigations.”

“Oh, and how long have you worked for Jasper?” I was curious, both about Ian and Jasper, but decided to not mention to Ian I saw him escape from a lady’s window.

“I worked for him since this agency opened, which would mean over fifteen years.”

“Wow! So you know Jasper for a long time!” I was impressed.

“Ye could say it that way.” Then with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he asked, “Do ye want to know more about Jasper?”

I nodded.

“Jasper’s birthday is November 3^rd. He said he came to Nordica when he was twelve and lived with his family in Oxen Basin since then. He’s a member of the Nordican Army during the Wars of the Western Kingdoms. After he got injured from the war, he returned to Oxen Basin and was recruited to be a member of the Emerald Knights.”

Jasper had a lot of experience.

“The rest ye should hear from Jasper himself.” Ian finished his tea.

“And what about you?” I quickly put in, part of me hoping Ian would at least tell me something about himself.

Ian smiled. “That’ll be for next time.” With a wink he left the office.

It was twenty minutes to two o’clock when I realized that I have missed lunch. I just finished going through the pile of messages and began organizing the files. I took my purse and went to Digger Leavesden’s shop.

At the shop I ordered a soup and sandwich.

“Hello, Cassisa,” I turned to see Jasper.

“You’re back.”

He smiled. “So, how was your day?” he asked.

“It was productive. Ian came. I left the notes on your desk in a file folder.”

He nodded. His eyes scanned a chalked menu located next to the counter.

“What did you order?”

“Soup and sandwich.”

“What kind of sandwich?”

“Roast beef.”

He made a face.

“You don’t like roast beef?”

“Anything that tastes like blood doesn’t agree with me.” He ordered a tuna sandwich.

We decided to sit together at a sunny corner. After Digger brought our lunches to us, I decided to take this opportunity to ask about Ian.

“So, I, um, saw Ian today.”

“Yeah?” He took a sip of water.

“I mean, I saw him climb out of a woman’s window.”

He nearly spewed his water.

“Was, um, having rendezvous with females part of his job in getting information?” I asked innocently, but felt warmth climb my face.

Jasper put his water glass down. “Cassisa,” he began.

“I know I am sounding judgemental here, but I’m only asking this out of curiosity.” I reassured him.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you interested in Ian?”

I opened my mouth and closed it as I scratched my cheek with my fingernail. “Um, what do you mean, interested?”

Jasper shook his head and took a bite of his sandwich.

“So, Ian told me you were one of the Emerald Knights after you served in the war before you became a detective.” I suddenly changed the subject.

Jasper looked surprised. “He told you that?” he asked after swallowing his last bite.

I shrugged. “I asked him what he did and his relationship with you and I ended up getting information about you.”

He again raised an eyebrow. “Did he tell you anything else?”

“Let’s see, your birthday and that you came to Nordica when you were twelve… and I think that’s about it.”

“He told you more than I thought he would.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

An idea came to me. I grinned. “How about I try to figure out your background?”

“Huh?” His sandwich stopped midway to his mouth.

“Well, I think it would be fair since that was how you have interviewed me.” And it would give me a nice distraction from Ian.

He gave me an interested look, putting his sandwich down, he leaned back. “All right, tell me what you find about me.”

Taking a moment studying his face, I rested my chin on my fist and leaned against the table. “You are in your…forties?”

He cocked his head and gave me a raised shoulder, turning his hand palm upwards.

“We already know you are not from Nordica so probably from one of the Western kingdoms. By your features,” I put my chin on my hand and studied him: his narrow blue-grey eyes equally spaced apart with a straight nose; his straw coloured hair swept over his receding hairline…then I noticed that his hairline was not really receded. Was that a scar just along his hairline? I stood up from my seat and walked over to him. “Excuse me, please,” I said, taking his chin and turning his head to the side.

He could have asked what I was doing, but he didn’t. I continued studying him and noticed another faint scar along the side of his face like a thin line running from his hairline down close to his ear and further down disappearing under his chin. I did not notice it before because of his five-o’clock shadow hid the scars.

“Well, what did you see?” he asked.

“Did you have an accident?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You have a scar. It’s almost hidden in your hair.”

He turned his head and looked right at me. Surprised by the sudden gesture, I jumped back, my hip hitting the corner of our table.

“Ow!” I said, rubbing my hip moving away from Jasper trying to hide the colour rising on my face.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I immediately returned to my seat and busied myself with my soup and sandwich. Spooning my soup, I mentally kicked myself for making a suggestive advance on my employer. I can’t believe I did that!

We ate in silence for the rest of our meal. When we finished, I grabbed my purse to fish out my change, but again Jasper beat me to it.

“Jasper!” I protested.

“Consider it your tip for your hard work today.” He waved as he headed out of the shop door.

Chapter 5

For the rest of the day at the office I tried to remain calm, but failed miserably as I felt an awkward awareness around Jasper after what I did during lunch.

Great! I had an awkward moment with Ian and now it’s with Jasper! I kept a distance from him, but it was very hard to avoid someone whom you work with especially when it comes to working in the same office.

“Cassisa?”

“Hmm?” I pretended to be concentrating really hard in organizing the files.

“Did you touch my desk?”

I wanted to look up, but forced myself to keep my eyes on the documents. “I tidied it a bit.” I heard his footsteps approach me.

“Cassisa, look at me.” I gave him a quick glance. Seeing his arms crossed on his chest, I became scared. What did I do?

“Cassisa!” his tone was low and commanding. I raised my eyes and looked at him.

“I asked you a question.”

“And my answer would be a short ‘yes’,” I winced inside. That one came out stronger than I intended.

I watched Jasper’s expression change from being taken aback to an irritated frown.

“I’m sorry. I meant ‘yes.’” I rephrased my answer softly, but he did not accept it.

“What is the matter with you?” he asked quietly. He may be trying to sound gentle, but the tone frightened me.

I felt myself retreat from my work as I felt him closing in. He followed me. I tried to avoid him by heading towards the nearest exit I could find – the meeting room, but the moment I stepped in there he also entered and closed the door behind him.

I found myself backing against the wall. I felt my insides quiver. Fear gripped me as he placed a hand on each side of me against the wall.

“Why are you running?” he asked, peering into my face.

“I’m not!”

“You are!” He raised his voice. I flinched. I see it: the raising of the hand, possibly pinning me against the wall with one hand while the other touching me. I felt like crying.

“Why…Are you crying?”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I touched your desk because I was trying to find something to write with and…and I just kept it tidy after I went through the messages. I only touched the surface. I swear it! I didn’t take anything from your drawers.”

Jasper’s angry face softened. He relaxed his arms and stepped away. Reaching into his pocket he held out his handkerchief. Seeing the folded square cotton, I touched my own face realizing that I was indeed crying. I took his handkerchief.

Jasper turned and walked out of the meeting room and out of the office, closing the door behind him. I sank to the floor and sat there hugging my knees.

I sat in that meeting room for what felt like an hour, though it was probably shorter than that. Once I felt calm, I went to the kitchenette and washed my face. I heard Jasper return. The sound of his desk chair move and creak as he sat at his desk.

I quietly said a prayer for courage and the right words, I stood before him.

“What is it?”

“I just want to say, I’m sor–”

“Stop apologizing!” he snapped.

I flinched. I heard the chair move as he stood. I prepared to bolt, but he didn’t move.

“Cassisa, please look at me,” he implored.

I slowly lifted my eyes to meet his and was surprised to find him not angry, but sad.

“I should be the one apologizing. I’m sorry for raising my voice at you,” he said as he passed his hand over his face. His words washed over me like rainfall.

I shook my head.

“Why are you shaking your head?”

“I was apologizing for causing the misunderstanding and for making an inappropriate advance towards you.”

“When did you make such an inappropriate advance?”

“During lunch time, when I was looking at your face.”

“It may have been inappropriate, but I gave you permission. Also,” he covered his mouth and mumbled something as a shade of pink rose up on his pale face and reached his ears.

“Could you repeat that?” I asked.

“What I meant was: I agreed by letting you study my face, all right?” he said with his back to me.

I blinked a few times.

“So, are we friends?” He faced me extending his hand over his desk.

I reached over and shook it. “We are.” I replied as I felt peace restored between us.

We locked up the office at half past seven. Jasper and I decided to take the railcar part way and walk home the rest of the way. I felt my heart warm knowing this was a chance to get to know each other better, and hopefully, in a more positive light.

We caught the railcar and got off at a station about twenty minutes away from home. The sky was awash with ruby red, blazing orange and molten gold. Jasper walked beside me taking the side closest to the streets while matching my steps with his long legs.

We walked like this in amiable silence for a while. Despite what had just occurred, I actually enjoyed walking beside him feeling safe and comfortable in my own skin.

“I was adopted,” he said suddenly breaking our silence.

I looked at him, but continued walking.

“My family died when I was twelve, a family friend brought me to Nordica and to his relatives who raised me as their son.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your family.”

He stopped and looked at me as he continued, “If it’s all right with you. I would like to hear about yours.”

I studied him. “I don’t know where to start, since you seemed to have known quite a bit about me when we first met.”

He chuckled. “A lot of that was just from speculation, but I want to hear it from you.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Let’s start with you.”

“All right. My birthday is on May 11^th. I am the eldest of four sisters. I was married twice.” I continued, “My first marriage was with a man who did not tell me he was a homosexual. He left me for another man which I discovered two years later through his letter saying he wanted to meet me to sign some divorce papers. We met, we signed and we parted. The lawyers he hired to file for our divorce made it quicker than I expected. My second husband was from a wealthy and respectable family; however he was abusive and had severe gambling problems. It was so bad his habits extended to illegal dealings.”

Jasper said nothing.

I licked my lips. “Once he raped me because he wanted his share of the family fortune that would be given to him if he fathered a child. He succeeded in having me with child. However, after he learned that his family no longer wanted to have anything to do with him because of his criminal involvements, my husband took his disappointment and anger on me which led me to having a miscarriage. One day, the police paid me a visit telling me that my husband had killed himself to escape his creditors – he owed over ten thousand Nordican maples. My family paid back the creditors as much as they could, since my in-laws refused to help considering their son already dead to them.”

Pasting a smile on my face, I looked at Jasper. “So there you have it – the story of my life.”

Jasper looked at me and took a step closer, but no more. We stood face to face, about a few feet from each other. His sad eyes searched mine. I inhaled willing myself not to cry or do anything that would invite further sympathy.

“What you went through was,” he tried to find the word, “hard to imagine.”

“Well, I could say that I have experienced something normal people wouldn’t.” I said brightly, but the tone was hollow.

“No, they wouldn’t,” he agreed, his eyes held mine for a moment. “Thank you for telling me.”

“It’s fine. It’s all in the past,” I lied, knowing that the hurt was still in the present. I turned away and began to walk. “By the way,” I stopped briefly and to face him, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For listening.” I gave him a real smile, one that showed I was glad I met him.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Cassisa,” said a familiar voice. I woke up to see a handsome blonde man peering into my face.

“Good morning,” he smiled.

“Good morning?” I didn’t recognize the man, but smiled in return.

“I made you breakfast. I hope you like bacon and eggs.” He said leaving the bedroom.

I got out of bed and followed him in my nightgown.

“What is it?” The man turned.

“Have we… met?” I heard myself ask.

He laughed. “You forgot about your husband?”

“Husband?”

He approached me and drew me towards him. “We’ve been married for a while and you have already forgotten?”

Married? I felt the back of his fingers stroke my face. He kissed my forehead, when he pulled away and I saw…Jasper looking down at me tenderly.

“Aaaaah!” I screamed as my head sprang up from my pillow. The room was still dark. I turned on the lamp and looked at my clock on the night table. It was ten minutes after four o’clock. Off in the distance I could hear dogs howling.

I felt my face tingle with warmth as I recalled my dream. I swore the man in my dream who claimed to be my husband looked nothing like Jasper. I rolled in my bed and buried my face into my pillow. I gave muffled shout into the thick padding as I pounded my fists and kicked my legs on the mattress, in hopes of banishing that embarrassing image from my mind.

The next morning at our office, I overheard Jasper humming a tune as he wheeled a large blackboard into position in our meeting room. While preparing some tea, I told myself not to let the dream I had last night bother me. Besides, I reasoned, Jasper is my employer. That would never happen.

“Cassisa,” I jumped as I turned to see him at the kitchenette doorway, “are you coming?”

“Yes, I will be right there.” See? He doesn’t even seem interested in me…I think. I thought to myself as I got the tea, teacups and saucers on a trolley and wheeled them into the office.

He stood at near the blackboard with a report I had copied from Ian yesterday.

“According to family records, Tiller and his sister are half-brother and sister.” Jasper began, drawing a family tree on the blackboard. “Their mother’s first marriage was with Gavin’s father who passed away when he was three, his mother remarried years later and had Peony.”

I pulled up a chair and sat in it, jotting down notes in my pocket-sized ledger.

“The rock that was in Gavin’s hand was actually a diamond.”

I stopped. “A diamond? As in the gemstone?”

“The very one. What we found was a dwarven diamond, the size of a chicken egg, common but of irreplaceable value to the dwarves.”

“I thought dwarves hated diamonds.” I pointed out.

“What makes you say that?”

“Never give a dwarf a diamond, unless you wish grief upon him and bring war upon yourself.” I quoted from an old proverb.

“Oh, that is actually true – if you want to give gifts to the dwarves.” Jasper sat on the edge of the desk swinging his long legs. I glanced at his legs, sort of envying their length.

“Were you just admiring my legs?” he teased.

“Let’s just stick to the topic,” I replied with disinterest.

“You’re no fun.” He pouted. He was in a rather good mood today.

“The proverb you have quoted refers to the ancient times when the races in the Western Kingdoms had clan wars. There was a story of a human man who found a beautiful gem stone that he recognized as a diamond. Wanting to receive favour from the king of dwarves, the man took the stone to the king. However the man only lost his head as a reward.”

“I heard of that story too, but I didn’t get why the man had to get killed for that gem.” I reflected.

“Easy. The man brought a piece of the king’s family ashes.”

Now I was very confused. “I thought you said it was a diamond.”

Jasper sighed. “You are a university graduate. Didn’t they teach you these things for your degree?”

“The only history lesson I have received was from Mr. Verte in grade 9, he only taught the Nordican history for one week and politics for the rest of the school year. As for science, nobody taught us how gemstones are created.”

“Well then,” Jasper leaped from his seat and brought out a large chalk board he had in the room. “You will have your brief lesson on dwarven diamonds from your teacher – Mr. Blake,” he said with a bow.

He looked up and added, “You are supposed to clap.”

I gave him a slow applause. He just gave me an irritated look and picked up the chalk.

“So, class,” he began as he wrote “Dwarven Diamonds” on the top of the board and drew a line beneath it. “Could you please tell me what the differences are between regular diamonds and dwarven diamonds?”

I shrugged.

“Ms. Fullerton, I’m sure you could tell me.”

“One of them is small; the other is big and has runes in them?”

“Excellent! Ten points for Ms. Fullerton!” Writing the number “10” and circling it, Jasper added, “Oh, is it true that diamonds are girl’s best friends?”

“Mr. Blake, could we please get on with the lesson?” I deadpanned.

“Like you said, dwarven diamonds are distinguished commonly by their size. Dwarven diamonds can be found as small as marble or as big as a chicken egg. Their noticeable features are the runes placed inside the stones that could only made by the dwarven diamond artisans. Here is a question for you: where do dwarven diamonds come from?”

“From rocks.”

“No, try again.”

“Why don’t you leave out the suspense and tell me?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh, please, Mr. Blake! Tell me where those diamonds are from!” I said in my best grade student voice, batting my eyelashes for an effect.

Jasper’s cheeks got a spot of rose as he coughed and continued his lesson. “Dwarven diamonds, the ones with the runes, are actually made from ashes of dead people.”

I blinked. Did he just say dead people? “So the diamond caves are actually dwarven graves?” I asked, trying to make sense of what I have just heard.

“It’s more accurately a crypt in a sense.” Then he asked, “When a loved one dies what do we humans normally do?”

“We usually we bury them.”

“Right. Now the dwarves cremate their dead. Then they take the ashes of their loved ones and put them in a special furnace where they go through a compressing process. Once that is completed you get a dwarven diamond. They take that diamond and place it on a stone marker they purchased that has their family name.”

“So, dwarven diamonds are actually made of ashes from dead people compressed –”

“In extremely high heat and pressure.”

“So, going back to the legend, the reason why the man got killed for bringing the diamond to the king of dwarves was he brought king’s dead family member unknowingly.”

“Correct. Any questions?”

“How could this be connected to our case?”

“Gavin was found dead with a dwarven diamond in his hand. When we visited the crime scene, I removed the diamond and handed it to Captain Peere to have it examined by an expert – who could identify the type of gem it is. Also, I have mentioned a robbery. Dwarven diamonds are not meant for resale, unless you go through the black market – and that is illegal under the Nordican laws. Knowing the captain, he will do his research on the gem and its possible origin.”

“So you mentioned a possible report of a robbery to give the captain an idea where to look for the possible owner. Did he find out whom it belongs to?”

Just as I said this, there was a knock on the door.

Jasper looked at his pocket watch. He stepped out of the room and opened the office door.

“We have been waiting for you. Please, come in.”

Diamond for Dwarves - A Jasper Blake Mystery (Part 2)

Chapter 2

I got up very early the next morning just so I would give myself ample time to get ready for my meeting with Jasper. At 8:15, I watched the front gate with an open book in my hand and an eye out for my employer. At 8:30 sharp, he appeared in the same coat and hat, but wearing a cleaner suit than yesterday. Yesterday he wore a brown suit with matching tie that had seen better days. Today he wore another brown suit that was a shade darker and a tie the colour of cornflowers. I could not tell if the suit looked darker because it was clean or if that was its actual colour.

“Good morning,” I greeted as I approached the gate.

“Good morning, shall we?” As he opened the gate for me, I saw a smile on his lips. He must be having a good morning so far.

“I hope I am dressed as a secretary should,” I waved over my green and black checked woolen skirt and jacket. It was the most professional looking set I had in my possession.

Jasper nodded. “It will do.”

We caught a hansom cab to our office. Once we entered the office, Jasper immediately put me to work starting with a list of things that needed to be done – mostly cleaning and tidying.

“I have to run an errand, so I will leave this place to you. Take any messages.” With that he left before I had a chance to ask him a few questions of my own, one of them just happened to be: Where do you keep your cleaning supplies?

I looked around the office, then at the list and back at my surroundings again. The office was not entirely messy, but it appeared to have been neglected for some time. The floor had streaks of dirt, the glass surfaces clouded with finger marks and dust, the office kitchenette with its small gas burner covered in layers of grime and stains, and that was not even half of the list. A box stuffed to the seams with files needed to be sorted and organized, letters and messages nearly spilling over the “out box” begging to be sent to post, plants withered brown from dehydration (but I think those plants were beyond rescue), tin cans for tealeaves and ground coffee became a home for little critters (had to toss those upon discovery), and more. I sighed.

“Well, I guess I have to start somewhere,” I decided to go with what my mother had once advised me: start with the filthiest place and work your way around.

“Lucky you, you get first priority!” I muttered as I entered the kitchenette. I grabbed a brown and crusty tea towel there and turned on the water tap to begin with the dishes.

Five minutes into dishwashing, I realized I needed soap, sponges, mops, rags, and other cleaning supplies badly. Immediately I turned off the running water and decided to pay a visit to one of the shops. Where should I ask first? I quietly sent a prayer. I need to ask someone who is willing to help me and I can immediately and effectively get my job done by the time Jasper comes back. Whom can I go? I turned to my left and went into the teashop.

“Hi, there! What can I do for you?” a rilud with mixed curls of grey and brown greeted me.

“Hi, I work with Mr. Blake upstairs. Could I trouble you for some cleaning supplies?”

Within a few minutes, I returned to the office with a mop and broom in one hand and a pail containing every cleaning item I could borrow from the shop owner. I leaned the mop and broom to one corner and went back to the kitchenette with the pail in hand. For the next couple of hours, and some elbow grease, I cleaned the place moving from the now sparkling kitchenette to the dusty office area. Another two hours later, windows were opened, glass and polished surfaces glistened and glowed, swept and mopped the floors brought life to the office along with a fresh scent of soap, lemon and vinegar. I plopped myself on the now shiny leather chair releasing a sigh. I closed my eyes as I leaned my head back.

“Thank you,” I whispered to Ishual.

“Wow!” I immediately stood up upon Jasper’s arrival.

“Hi! Sorry, I was just taking a quick break. I still have some filing to do – ” I began explaining myself. Jasper held up his hand. I stopped.

“You don’t have to apologize. You did really well! I was just amazed at how the place looks.” He held up a paper bag. “Have you eaten?”

My stomach growled at the reminder.

Jasper laughed, “Glad I asked. Let’s have lunch. You relax while I bring you the food.”

I sat down again watching him go into the kitchenette. Few minutes later he returned bearing a tea trolley carrying a tea set and some sandwiches on the top surface.

“I hope you like luncheon meat. There was this great butcher shop I found along the way that made delicious deli meats.” He handed me a plate with six-inch sandwiches cut in half, each half speared with an olive on a toothpick.

After saying a brief word of grace, we bit into our sandwiches. I closed my eyes and held my cheek. It was heavenly – the meat with crispy greens held together by two pieces of bread that was crusty on the outside and moist on the inside.

“Mmmmm!” I exclaimed.

“Good, eh?” Jasper took another bite of his sandwich.

“Where did you get the tea?” I asked.

“There was a can in the far back of a cupboard.”

I neatly placed my untouched tea back on my saucer.

“Don’t worry. It’s still drinkable.”

With the sandwiches eaten and tea drank up (I had water instead), we returned to business.

“There were no messages while you were gone, which allowed me to finish cleaning today. Other than my visit to Mr. Digger Leavesden downstairs for cleaning supplies nothing eventful.”

Jasper sipped his tea. “Well, that’s fine. It means we still need to wait for the results. In the mean time, I want you to come with me.”

“But I have some filing.”

“That can wait. A female presence is requested where we are going. Our appointment is in,” Jasper looked at his pocket watch, “half an hour, which means we’ll need to lock the place up.”

In the next half hour, Jasper locked up the office while I went to return the borrowed cleaning supplies to Mr. Leavesden. By the time I came out of the teashop, Jasper had a hansom waiting for me. Once we got on, the driver took us on a drive across the Glacier River Valley to Hilda Estates, a residential area for the middle class. The driver brought us to a quaint looking home with chestnut roof tiles and sidings the colour of pale butter. The house looked aged, but well tended as with its yard.

“Whose place is this?” I inquired.

“The home of Mr. Gavin Tiller,” Jasper hopped off the hansom excitedly.

“Our victim?” I stood, Jasper held his hand out for me. With his assistance I stepped down from the hansom. He told the driver to wait for us as we approached the house.

“We need to interview his sister. However, she is not too comfortable with private visits from men, which is where you come in.” He knocked on the door frame.

The wooden door opened revealing a wiry looking woman with dark earth coloured hair, streaked with ash grey and white across the front half of her head, bundled into tight bun at the back of her head. She wore a conservative black dress that appeared to restrain her already petite form.

“What do you want?” she demanded through the screen door.

Jasper held up something that looked like a circular wallet for the woman to see. “Miss. Peony Tiller? I’m Jasper Blake, a consulting detective. This is Ms. Fullerton, my assistant. We work with the Nordican rangers and would like have a few questions regarding your brother.”

The woman’s eyes studied Jasper’s hand, and then her eyes met mine as I happened to be standing close to him. She opened the door.

Within minutes, we sat in her den. Before us were cups of tea. Miss. Tiller sat across from us in a small cushioned chair.

“I apologize for the untidy place,” she said to me.

The den was spotless and neat. Every furniture and item arranged as if they were assigned there. Oddly there were no photographs or pictures. Not even a hall mirror.

“Our sincere condolences for your loss, Miss. Tiller,” I consoled.

“Please call me ‘Peony’.”

“Well then, Peony, may we ask you some questions regarding your brother?”

Upon receiving a nod, Jasper and I shared a look. He handed me a page torn from his notebook containing a list of questions.

“When was the last time you have seen your brother?” I began.

“Gavin left home about a week ago saying he had something to do.”

“Did he say what it was?”

Peony shook her head. “He said that it was urgent and may not be back until two days. He works as a gardener and yard keeper for a number of places in the city. It is not uncommon for him to be away from home for days in a row.”

“You say he was a gardener and a yard keeper. Could you tell us who his employers are?”

Rilud gardeners offer their services as gardeners and yard keepers by contract; first they hire themselves to one place, such as an upper class family, from there they would branch off and work two or three other locations through their first employers. Because labour was cheap, it explains why these labourers work away from home sometimes with three to five different worksites just to put food on the table.

“Just a moment please,” Peony left us.

I looked at Jasper. He was sitting beside me on the loveseat with his hands cupped and resting against his chin. His eyes were unreadable.

“Here it is,” Peony brought a slim ledger; it was small enough to fit in one’s pocket.

“May I?” I accepted the ledger from her and opened it. On it were dates, times, locations, and the duties that accompany for each location.

“May we borrow this?” I asked.

“Keep it. I have no use for it.”

“One last question,” Jasper interceded. Peony jumped as if he had just appeared out of thin air.

“Y-yes?” her eyes darted from Jasper, then to me.

“Did he have any friends or close acquaintances?”

At the question, I thought I saw her eyes grow slightly. She looked right at me and said, “Not really. He was a busy man.”

“She’s hiding something,” Jasper told me as we made our way back.

“Funny I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Tell me what you saw.”

“The den was tidy and organized. I did not see any photographs or family photos, no mirrors. I found that odd because I kind of expected something of a sort.”

Jasper nodded. “I agree. Though, what bothered me was the setting of the place.”

“The setting?”

“Gavin and Peony are supposed to be brother and sister, yet like you said I see no photographs of them together. I didn’t even see signs of his presence there.”

“She could still be grieving over her brother that she put her brother’s things away.”

“Possibly, but from what I have experienced, most of those who have lost their loved ones are reluctant to touch their possessions.”

“I also noticed Gavin’s ledger had a page torn from it and I think it is recent.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The pages show signs of yellowing and wear from touch and exposure, yet the page torn shows freshness at the tear.”

“Good eye.”

“Also,” I frowned, “I noticed that Peony addressed mainly to me – perhaps, only to me. Could she be afraid of men?”

Jasper rested his hand on his chin in thought.

“Usually as the hostess, women would take note of their guest’s presence would make some acknowledgement towards them, but I felt she completely ignored –”

I heard a snore and realized Jasper had fallen asleep during the conversation. I sighed, telling myself that Jasper probably did not get enough sleep last night.

Our next stop was the city morgue.

“You go ahead without me.” Jasper said, handing me his notebook. “And take notes if you see anything I have missed in this.” With that he turned to leave.

“You’re just going to leave me here?” I had to ask grabbing his sleeve. I knew I sounded rather childish, but for being in a place like this surely there was something required, like a document or a presence of authority.

Jasper looked up at the morgue entrance and appeared to turn a shade green.

“You’ll be fine,” he said turning away, “The dead won’t hurt you.”

Watching him walk briskly away, I sighed and entered the building.

The morgue entrance was clean which suggested sanitary procedures were followed as expected. As I walked further in there was a hall way, on the wall were two signs each with arrows: one that said “coroner’s office” pointing to my left, the other said “DEAD PEOPLE THIS WAY!” in capital red letters on a white sheet of paper pasted over another official sign that I could not make out.

“Cassisa?” I turned at a familiar voice. A blond haired rilud in a white lab coat greeted me.

“You are…” I tried to place the name with the face.

“Merl Fourleaf,” he said with a grin.

“Yes. You work here?”

“Indeed I do!” He held his arms wide, “Welcome to the Oxen Basin City Morgue!”

I smiled unsure of what to make of this kind of welcome.

“Don’t mind him. He’s always like this when he sees dead people,” said a gloomy voice.

I looked at the owner and saw a petite girl with large sad looking eyes the colour of treacle. She wore gold rimmed spectacles which she pushed up her small nose with her finger. Her hair was braided into a thick braid that hung over her left shoulder. She also wore a white lab coat.

“Dr. Vanessa Whyte,” she said holding out her hand, “Assistant for Dr. Merl Fourleaf.”

“You’re a doctor?” I asked Merl after shaking Vanessa’s hand.

“Former military doctor, now a certified coroner. So what brings you here?” Merl sounded very excited.

Remembering Jasper’s notebook I held it up. “It appears Jasper wants me to take notes on something.”

Merl clucked his tongue. “He decided to give you the dirty work, eh? Well, no worries. He always has trouble coming in here.”

“He does?”

“Usually he would have me come to the door and ask me take notes for him or give him copies of my reports and findings.”

I was a bit surprised when I heard this. This was the man who had done a snappy job in examining a corpse at a murder scene and he could not set foot in a morgue. Merl led me to what appeared to be an operating room that was brightly lit. On the table was a body covered with a white sheet revealing only a pair of hairy feet and a tag tied to its right big toe.

“Is that–?”

“Our vicky? No, he would be in the ice room.”

“Vicky?”

“He means ‘victim’,” Vanessa explained. “You’ll learn other interesting names from him.”

We watched Merl stride excitedly to a latched room, where he opened it with a flourish and entered. “So, how did you find you accommodations, Tilly?” he greeted in there.

“Tilly?”

“A bit on the chilly side? We’ll soon fix that. You have a visitor!” Humming a cheerful tune he wheeled the covered body out to the examining room. As on cue Vanessa closed and securely latched the door to keep warm air out.

“Mr. Gavin Tiller,” Merl introduced as he begin to pull back the sheet, Vanessa pushed it back towards the victim’s face before I had a chance to see.

“What are you doing?” Merl asked.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Vanessa said grimly.

“She needs to see him.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“There’s always a first time, Vanessa.”

“That’s what you said with Jasper and look what happened to him.”

“What happened to Jasper?” I asked. Both looked at me.

“She still needs to see.” Merl argued with her.

“There are ways of doing this, doctor. Making this into a freak show is not one of them.” Vanessa argued in return.

Merl gave her a dirty look. “All right,” he pulled back the sheet to show the face. “Gavin Tiller, aged 62, death by –”

I did not hear the rest of it because I felt the room swim and felt a pair of thin, but sturdy arms catch me as I fell.

Something strong and awful invaded my nostrils that it made me cough. I opened my eyes to found Merl and Vanessa peering into my face.

“Are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?” Vanessa looked down at me.

“What the heck was that?”

“Smelling salts. How do you feel?” Merl asked.

“Still dizzy.” I tried to get up.

“Relax and get your bearings first.” Vanessa suggested.

“Now that you have made your virgin viewing, here you go.” A thick envelope was handed to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, accepting the envelope.

“Congratulations! You just received a certificate in I Just Survived Looking at a – Ow!”

Vanessa gave him a swift kick in the leg. “Aren’t you supposed to say something else?” she reminded him.

“Have a nice day?” Merl asked.

“Stop fooling around and apologize!”

Like a child who just got scolded, Merl sheepishly turned to me. “I’m sorry, Cassisa, that was not nice of me presenting you a dead body that way.”

“Ummm, it’s okay,” I said, “I still needed to see him.”

A young man in a white lab coat poked his head into the room. “Dr. Fourleaf, there is a gentleman asking about a Cassisa Fullerton?”

“I guess that’s Jasper.” I got up from the cot I was lying on.

“Don’t forget this.” Merl handed me Jasper’s notebook, “Tell him, he’ll find all the details in there.”

“Thank you, doctor,” I smiled.

“Merl will do.” He smiled in return.

Within minutes, I was out of the morgue. The air was so fresh I stretched as I took a deep breath.

“Was the visit that refreshing?” I turned to see Jasper leaning against the nearby lamppost as if he was waiting for his date.

“Very funny!” I deadpanned. I handed him the envelope and his notebook. “He says that everything is in there.”

He put the envelope into the inner pocket of his coat as we began walking.

“Can I ask you something?” I began after the curiosity got to me.

“What is it?”

“Merl said you have trouble coming into the morgue. Are you afraid of dead people?”

“Not really.”

“Then why?”

Jasper stopped and looked at me. “Why do you want to know?”

“I just find it strange, from what I understand you seemed to be in this business for years and you have worked in crime scenes that involve dead people, and yet you can’t go into a morgue to see one.”

“I’ll tell you later.”

I was tempted to press further, but there was something about his last reply that told me to let it go. We caught a hansom and made our way back to the office. During our ride, Jasper opened the envelope, inside was a folded written report and a creamy white chess piece. The piece was a bishop.

When Jasper saw the chess piece, I thought I saw his eyes grow briefly. He peered into the envelope.

“Did Merl say anything when he handed you this?” he asked, his tone suddenly grave.

“Nothing. Why?”

He studied the bishop. “Nothing to worry about,” he said as he pocketed the piece, but I could hear anxiety masked under the carefree tone.

For the rest of the day, we have forgotten about the bishop.

Chapter 3

As we finished our work at the office, I got permission from Jasper to replace the cleaning supplies I borrowed from Digger Leavesden. After my errand in purchasing and dropping off the supplies, we closed shop and took the same hansom home (it appears Jasper used that hansom regularly).

When we got home, our supper of vegetable quiche and stewed chicken was already waiting for us. We ate hardly conversing with each other; even Merl was quiet during the meal. As for Jasper, I assumed he was preoccupied with the case. After my visit to the morgue, I was both too tired to talk and could not enjoy the chicken stew. Skipping dessert, I made myself a cup of tea and took it to my room.

I set my tea on my desk and sat down to begin writing notes for myself regarding our visits and finds were still fresh in my mind. I opened my own personal ledger to the page that contained yesterday’s findings:

Date: Tuesday, October 10^th, 1841       Case File: 01

Victim: Gavin Tiller (half-rilud?)

Description: Victim’s body found inside St. Eleanor’s Chapel (chapel located at the edge of Oxen Basin) near the front of the sanctuary close to the stone table at the top rising steps; body posed as if crawling with right arm extended forward above head and the left arm lowered near the left thigh; a large gash extended from right shoulder down to the left hip; in his hand was a quartz-like stone (that Jasper removed upon discovery)

I turned to a new page and began a new entry.

Date: Wednesday, October 11^th, 1841   Case File: 01 (continuation of Gavin Tiller Case)

Description: Visited Peony Tiller (victim’s closest kin, sister); wiry looking petite woman with dark brown hair, across the front half of her hair were grey and white. Our visit was rather short for an investigative interview, with both Jasper and myself present I was the only one acknowledged (could she be afraid of men?). The Tiller house was tidy and spotless, not sign of family photographs or portraits, not even a hall mirror was at that home. Perhaps the sister kept her photos in a more private location (such as her own room).

I put down my pen and thought over our visit. Remembering another detail, I added to my entry: House was neat and organized outside, however there was a sense of sterility on the inside.

I paused in thought and added the following after leaving a line blank:

Later in the day, visited the morgue to see Gavin’s body and passed out before I saw anything. Received report from Dr. Merl Fourleaf (coroner).

As I wrote another thought came across my mind, so I added:

Jasper would not set foot into the morgue to receive his reports or take his own notes. (Why?)

Setting my pen down, I rubbing the bridge of my nose, closed my ledger, and turned out my lamp. Tomorrow will be another busy day.

The next morning, Jasper and I left early and had breakfast at the office. We had a room separated by a glass window; there we brainstormed our finds by sticking printed and written documents on the glass using tiny balls of glue. In the secluded room was also a desk that gave us a place to put our notes and our breakfast of tea and frosted pastries.

“Gavin Tiller, aged 62,” Jasper read the coroner’s report, “death by a puncture wound to the heart.”

“I thought he died of a huge cut on his back,” I pointed out.

“It looks like it, but according to what Merl had found there were two major wounds: the large laceration (or cut) across his back, and a puncture wound that was within that laceration. So in other words, Tiller first got the large cut across his back. By blood stains on the chapel floor, it appears he had crawled his way into the sanctuary, and received a finishing blow in the back.”

I winced at the news as I imagined the crime scene take place.

“Also,” Jasper flipped the page and continued, “there were traces of soil in the large wound. As for the puncture wound, the weapon used appears to be about an inch wide and slightly curved.”

“A sword?” I suggested.

“The rangers didn’t find anything of the sort. Though Merl’s findings do kind of bother me some.” He picked a sugary roll from our breakfast plate and took a bite in thought.

“I was studying Gavin’s ledger last night,” I said, as I sipped my milk tea. “In one of his schedules, there were some slots involving Oronean and Zenian restaurants which I find rather odd. I thought rilud workers faithfully serve their employers and have limited work connections.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, from what I usually know about riluds,” I opened Gavin’s ledger, “when it comes to employment they would stick to one and branch out through their connections to about a few others, no more than three. From what is written in this ledger, Gavin’s employers were elven. If he were to have other employment connections they would also be elven (since elves usually do not interact with other races). However, he has three names: one Oronean and two Zenian.”

“Hmmm… That is a good point.”

“The torn page,” I added, “is the other thing that bothered me. I made a pencil rubbing on the page after it and found a name and address.”  I opened to the page for Jasper to see.

“Lavinia? That address is in an upscale neighbourhood.”

“And in a location that is out of the way from his employers’ addresses.”

“Perhaps we should first pay these employers a visit,” he said finishing his pastry.

After our breakfast meeting, Jasper and I got a hansom and made our way to Gavin’s employers.

Our first place was the Everwood residence, a middle class elven family of five including the family matriarch. The place was neatly maintained with a symmetrical yard and garden, and a tall black iron fence that surrounded the home giving the passerby a lovely view of their brown and biscuit coloured mansion.

“Gavin was a good gardener,” Mrs. Evie Everwood, the family matriarch, said as she served us tea. She was an elegant woman who was ancient, but aged nicely with her silver and white hair, ivory skin with laugh lines, and large jade coloured eyes. I thought to myself that if I was to grow old I wished to look like her.

“He took pride in his work. He would find ways to bring dying plants to life.”

I glanced at Jasper remembering the poor plants we had to dispose of the other day when I cleaned the office.

“He made sure that nothing was wasted. Once we had a lilac bush that grew wild. He would trim it down, then gather the blooms and give them to us saying that it would brighten our entrance way or our dining room. He was always thoughtful and polite, never missed a day, and always on time.” Mrs. Everwood looked down sadly, she sniffed. “Excuse me,” her smile wobbled as she turned away.

“May I ask you a few more questions, Mrs. Everwood?” I asked.

Blinking her tears, the lady nodded.

“Did you make other employment arrangements for Mr. Tiller?”

“I was the one who introduced him to Mr. and Mrs. Sunnydale and Mr. Pinegrove.”

“Anyone outside the elven community?”

“Well, no. I don’t know of anyone outside the elven society.”

“Oh, Gavin was a very good gardener,” said Mrs. Heather Sunnydale. She was a slender elven woman with hair the colour of corn silk, creamy skin and laughing sapphire eyes.

“In fact, I don’t think we would ever find anyone else like him,” Mr. Ernest Sunnydale agreed. He was a rather plump and short man for one of the elves, but he was long limbed giving him the illusionary height; his dark blond hair was thin at the top.

The Sunnydales were the next elven family on the list. Their mansion residence was a charcoal rooftop and a milky white sidings; the garden was a flowery garden with blooming bushes and shrubs trimmed into conical and round shapes. Most of the bushes were roses of various shades and colour, even the hedges surrounding it were white and yellow rose bushes maintained with great care.

“Our family loves roses,” Mrs. Sunnydale sighed.

“Yes, there is even a rose on our family crest,” Mr. Sunnydale put in.

“Roses are one of the difficult flowers to grow, but Gavin always does wonders and makes them bloom beautifully, even during seasons that are difficult.”

“Remember that year he made that pink rose bloom? The one we planted when our daughter was born?”

“How could I forget!” Mrs. Sunnydale began, “It was a small bush, but a very finicky one. If you water it too much it dies, if you don’t water it enough it dies, even with the amount of sun it would refuse to bloom.”

“But Gavin brought it to life –”

“Indeed, he did! It was a sight to see!” Mrs. Sunnydale suddenly fell quiet.

Mr. Sunnydale reached over and squeezed his wife’s hand.

“Now who will take care of our rose garden?” Mrs. Sunnydale sniffed as she covered her mouth with her laced handkerchief.

“Do you know if Gavin had done other work outside the community?” Jasper asked.

“Why would he?” Mr. Sunnydale asked, “He seemed happy working with us.”

“Oh, that one,” said Mr. Francoise Pinegrove with disinterest as he looked down at us from his upturned nose. He was tall with iron grey hair and jade green eyes. His dark suit made him look more like a butler than the master of the house.

Mr. Pinegrove lived in a rather secluded mansion located near the edge of the neighbourhood and over looked the river valley. The Pinegrove mansion was a large sprawling place the colour of ashen grey with columns of matching grey stone, roof edges with a laurel design in matching grey, and tall narrow windows that allowed limited view out to the front as well as limiting the light into the home. The mansion yard was sparse and neat, with a lawn that was meticulously raked and trimmed; a maple tree in one corner was the only thing that gave the place some colour. The whole property was surrounded by a high stone fence with black iron spearheads standing guard along the top edges warning intruders to keep out and mind their own business.

“We don’t have any problems with him. Comes on time, does his work, leaves as expected, minds his own business. Can’t complain,” Mr. Pinegrove sniffed with disdain. “Stays in the yard as expected, unlike some lot who think they have the right to enter through the back for a glass of water.”

I raised an eyebrow as Jasper and I stood at the door and listened.

“Pity really, he was the cheapest labour we had on our property. Well, there are plenty of others who would do the job.”

“Do you know if he had other commitments?” I asked.

“Is that why he was killed? Good heavens!” Mr. Pinegrove said as he looked up. “Well, serves him right. You never know with people like him these days.”

“Well, I guess we could generally say that he was well liked,” I said as we got on a hansom. “Although that last interview kind of left an unpleasant taste in my mouth.” I muttered under my breath.

“You’re not jumping into conclusions already are you?” Jasper said after giving the driver another address.

“About Tiller? Not yet. What about you?”

“I think we should visit some restaurants while we are at it.”

As we drive I glanced at Jasper. He was watching the scenery. I could not help wondering what he was thinking. Did he see things that I cannot see during our investigation? Am I doing my job right? Am I meeting his expectations?

“You know it’s rude to stare.” He looked at me with small smile curling in the corner of his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” I forced myself to turn away as I felt my face burn.

Jasper chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“I am just excited.” His tone was light.

I forgot to ask what he meant because we arrived to our first non-elven destination for questioning. The place was Pearl Soup House. It was a small Zenian noodle shop that had strong scent of spices ranging from anise to ginger to green onions to the greasy frying oils greeting us as we entered.

A short plump Zenian waitress met us. “For two?” she asked with an accent.

“Actually we are here on an investigation.” Jasper held up his circular wallet.

A look of panic crossed the woman’s face. “No-no! I don’t know anything! Don’t know Common Western!”

“Madam,” I said quietly in Zenian, “We are not here to arrest anyone. We are looking for someone who could help us with a mysterious death.”

The waitress looked at Jasper, then at me.

“I don’t know Common Western! I want no trouble!” Her tone was pleading.

“I understand. We don’t want any for you either. Could you help us please, madam?” I said slowly and gently.

Seeing that we mean no harm, she relaxed a bit. “What do you want?” she asked nervously.

“Do you know of a rilud man named Gavin Tiller?”

“Mr. Tiller? Yes-yes. I know! I know him.” Her voice was calmer as she explained, “He came twice a week for wonton soup. Good man.”

I translated what she had just told me to Jasper.

“Ask her if he helped out around the neighbourhood or community.” Jasper requested.

I relayed the question in Zenian.

“He once could not pay for his soup, so he spoke to our boss and offered to clean our dishes. He even sharpened our cooking knives,” the waitress explained, “Our boss impressed. Liked Mr. Tiller because he was polite and did a good job.”

“Did he do anything else?” I repeated Jasper’s question.

“It was only that for one time.”

“I didn’t know you spoke Zenian,” Jasper said as he made our way to the next restaurant.

“Not as fluently as I like. I just picked up a few phrases during my travels in the Eastern Kingdoms.”

“That didn’t sound like a few phrases to me.” He sounded pleased.

“By the way, what was that you’ve been showing to the waitress when you told her we were investigating?”

Jasper reached into his chest pocket and brought out the circular wallet. “It’s a special permit provided by the Nordican government.” He handed me the wallet.

Inside was a circular badge made of messrihl, silver in colour the main body was a shield quartered with a tiny green enameled knight chess piece on the top left; the top right were two yellow seven-pointed stars one on top of the other; the bottom left was a purple eternity symbol; the bottom right had a gold capital “D” in a red field with a silver dwarven mallet. Five maple leaves in colours of ruby, gold, silver, bronze, and emerald crowned the badge with the ruby maple leaf at the top bearing a golden crown. Beneath all that was a banner that said, “Not by Force, but by Virtue”.

“I’m impressed,” I said returning the badge.

He grinned at my compliment.

Our next restaurant was a large shop called the Lotus Garden. The waitress who greeted us was a young slim and pretty girl.

“Mr. Tiller sometimes sees Baba (daddy),” she explained, “Baba used to make herbal remedies when he was living in his village. Mr. Tiller once had a stomach-ache and Baba gave him something for his stomach. When Mr. Tiller comes he brings cooking herbs and rare ingredients for Baba as a thank you. Some were hard to find because they were out of season, or could only be found in the Eastern Kingdoms, but Mr. Tiller always finds something unusual and fresh. Baba is always pleased.”

“What sort of ingredients does he find?” I asked.

“Fiddle heads, pine mushrooms, ginger stalks, wild onions, and other herbs to add to our dishes.”

“Did he do anything else?” Jasper asked, “Any offer of help around your place or the neighbourhood?”

The girl paused in thought. “He once asked Baba if he had heard anything about a rock crystal, or came across rumours involving them.”

“When was this?”

“About a month ago.”

The last place we came to was an Oronean restaurant. Because it was late, we decided to have our supper there. Jasper ordered a “mother’s taste” dish. I ordered the same thing. What the dish contained were a bowl of rice, a bowl of miso soup with chopped onions and tofu pieces, a plate of mackerel stewed in miso and ginger sauce, and a small cabbage coleslaw.

“We get all sorts of customers here,” our waiter was a young man with brown fluffy hair and pimply face.

“How about a rilud man?” Jasper asked.

“We get some riluds here too.”

“We are looking for a rather tall rilud. Did you see him here?”

“If you are talking about a tall one, yes, he did come here a few times. I remember because he was meeting a lady friend. She was an elf, I could tell because I saw her pointy ears. Very pretty with yellow hair and large green eyes, dressed fashionable-like; she seemed rather nervous when she came here.”

“Anything else we should know about?”

“The man called her Lavinia and the lady called him Gavin. All I could say is that they were meeting in secret – probably an affair. The lady was wearing a gold ring with a ruby on her left hand.”