The Study in Silver (The Wolflock Cases Book 5) Page 2

  “Lockie?” Grogen stopped chiselling into a stone the size of an apple. “What are ye up for, lad?”

  “I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to see what the funerary rights were for the ship.”

  “Morbid...” Hognut scoffed and continued chipping away at his own stone.

  “It’s a old thing, this. The body is wrapped in salt ta keep fishes away until Houl can open his gates and accept the spirit back ta the Great Mother. The candles keep the spirit in near the body so it don’t roam ‘round the ship.”

  “And the black cloth on her face?”

  Grogen looked very uncomfortable, “It’s so she can’t see us. Pari didn’ live a happy life. She was angry and sad and confused. Her spirit won’ be much betta. She might seek vengeance on those who ain’t really done ‘er no wrong but laid ‘er to rest. Poor lass...”

  “And the rocks?” Wolflock walked nearer to her, pretending to look at the ceremonial stones but looking at her right hand, seeing that it was now caked with a reddish brown dried substance. It looked too much like blood to be anything else and there was nothing else around the ship that could have looked like that.

  “They help keep the body at the floor of the river. Once the spirit has time to be taken by Houl the salt will have been used up by the water and then the fish can ‘ave the body without it floatin’ up and scarin’ folk.”

  “Circle o’ life,” Hognut shrugged and placed the stone by Parihaan.

  “When are you putting her overboard?” Wolflock asked, unable to keep a very slight note of nervousness from his voice. He needed to see her face just once and see the mark.

  “Cap’in wants a service before breakfast. S’why we’re doin’ this now.” Grogen picked up his chisel again.

  “I... uh...” Wolflock thought as fast as he could. Clearly he didn’t have long. “Do you need a hand?”

  Grogen looked up and then glanced at Hognut, who was staring as if Wolflock was some weird grub.

  “Only got two sets o’ chisels, lad.”

  “Oh... What about-”

  “What’s this about, lad?” Grogen cut him off quite abruptly and stared him down in a way Wolflock hadn’t seen him do before. It was like having a bear stare at him within swiping distance. “No one wants to see the dead ‘cept fam’ly. It ain’t right. This ain’t no game, lad!”

  Wolflock threw up his hands defensively. “No! No! I understand that! It’s just... well...”

  Grogen just stared at him with a deadly coldness.

  “Parihaan and I didn’t get along and I feel like it was all my fault. I never got the chance to apologise... I just wanted to tell her I’m sorry... To her face...”

  He raised his shoulders and tucked his limbs in tightly, looking down sadly and shy. He didn’t feel it at all; he just wanted to appeal to the men so they wouldn’t question him.

  Grogen’s whole demeanour soften.

  “Ah... lad...” he sighed and glanced at the body. “Go on, then. She’ll ‘ear yah... It’ll prob’ly soften her soul.”

  Wolflock smiled and nodded, imitating Mothy as best he could.

  He braced his throat and stomach for what he was about to see as he knelt by her empty shell. Swallowing, he lifted the black cloth to be met with those amber eyes. But they weren’t looking into his soul anymore. They were sadly glazed over now, as if she was staring at something over his shoulder and remembering her life with dismay.

  “Parihaan... I’m sorry for the pain you went through in life and I’m sorry I was part of that pain...” he spoke softly as his eyes flicked around her face. He felt somewhat disrespectful being dishonest and looking at a dead body again, but he got what he wanted.

  “May you rest in peace and your soul travel smoothly to the Earth.”

  He replaced the cloth and laid a hand on her cheek. She was so cold. To Grogen and Hognut it looked as if he was being kind. To Wolflock, he was measuring the purpled mark against his own hand. He’d also noticed in the dawn light her cheek had odd silver paint wiped lightly over it. As if the person who had hit her had recently put a silver substance on the tips of their nails.

  He stood up and nodded farewell to the two men, quickly dashing back down to his room and scrubbing his hands feverishly in his basin.

  His skin felt so unclean. All of him felt unclean. Even he had morals and lying to a corpse to get information had suddenly crossed them. It was something he hadn’t known he drew a line at until now. Unable to feel sanitised, he closed his cabin door and stripped off, determined to wash every inch of himself until he was satisfied. His skin was pristinely fair and smooth. He’d never had to work hard in his life until he came onto the ship. Wolflock was lean and surprisingly strong from riding horses at his home, but he wasn’t the most graceful of men, often being too stiff and rigid from etiquette lessons and horse riding.

  He was pleased that he hadn’t had a second wave of shock and jitters, but his hygiene was essential. He felt as if he was washing more than just his skin. The lingering energy from Parihaan’s body hadn’t dissipated and until he was cleansed of that too he wouldn’t feel right.

  Wolflock lost himself to his cleaning and it wasn’t until Mothy knocked on his door that he was woken from his trance.

  “Just give me a moment,” he stammered as he hastily pulled on his trousers. “Mothy? I’m clothed.”

  “The funeral is happening shortly.”

  Mothy smiled sadly, as if he thought Wolflock wouldn’t come.

  “Are you going?” He asked his blond friend.

  “Of course.”

  “But why? She was horrible to you.”

  “It does me better to forgive her than to hold on to any discomfort she gave me. Besides, she did it because she was hurting. That’s why people do bad things. The only way to help people is to heal them from a place of love and compassion.”

  “If your goal is to help people,” said Wolflock stiffly, pulling on his shirt and buttoning it.

  “Mmm...” Mothy hummed thoughtfully.

  “Well... if you’re going, I will too,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Good! The Captain wants everyone there so the spirit doesn’t linger.”

  So there was very little choice regardless.

  Everyone was on the deck looking a little sleepy and forlorn. The crew and company wanted to grieve, but they found it hard as none of them but Geagle had any love for Parihaan.

  Her body had been wrapped in the tarpaulin and the Captain held a small plain open chest with her dark brown hair held within.

  “On this sad day we say farewell...” the Captain began his eulogy and the ceremonial rites. Normally Wolflock would have been quite fascinated with the procedure, but as he and Mothy stood near the railing of the semi circle of people gathered around he watched the crowd with keen eyes. No one was missing besides Hognut and Grogen (who were presumably steering the ship after being relieved from preparing the body).

  Yifi was sniffling and leaning into Slavidus’ chest. Tinni and Tanni looked politely sad, as did Stra, Froderyk and Fuhji. Wolflock had become quite adept at reading people’s faces while on the ship. Everyone had patterns and it didn’t take much effort to see them. Micro movements gave people away. It could be in their faces or their bodies, but his instincts had become more honed for them as every day went by that he practiced watching.

  All of the crew present looked incredibly uncomfortable and guilt ridden. Wolflock didn’t want to think of one of the crew being capable of this terrible act, but they all did have better access to the hull than the company.

  Haatji kept her head bowed and was whispering a quiet prayer to herself, a glittering tear streaking down her cheek. Wolflock didn’t understand why she was crying. She hated Parihaan.

  Geagle cried freely as he put the body on the life raft hoist and lowered her down. His large hands shaking as he lowered her down. There was a soft splash and Parihaan was released from the ship.

  Wolflock looked around once more at the mourners when s
omething caught his eye.

  The Nan family looked peculiar. Nan Ji looked coldly sombre, but his chin was raised as if he was looking down upon Parihaan even now. Didi and Gege seemed a little confused, but respectful. It was Nü that made Wolflock feel uncomfortable though.

  Her normally porcelain blank face couldn’t hide the flicker of a smile.

  Chapter 3, Process of Elimination

  The funerary crowd dispersed for breakfast. It would have looked too strange if everyone had not gone straight to the dining hall. Collecting their porridge and jam from the cauldron, Wolflock and Mothy sat across from the Nan family.

  Mothy ate slowly for once, but Wolflock just stirred his meal distractedly.

  “I know she wasn’t your favourite person on deck, Lockie, but you’ve got to eat something,” Mothy prompted with his usual smile.

  “Huh? Oh yes. Yes of course...”

  He continued to stir.

  “She wasn’t your favourite person on the ship either, was she, Nü?”

  The table fell even more silent and Nü blinked in surprise.

  “Pardon?”

  “You definitely did not like her at all for what she said to you about your mother and your intelligence, did you?” He pressed firmly looking daggers at her. How could someone smile at a funeral? She had little hands that would likely have matched Parihaan’s cheek and she may even have shoes to match the dust prints. Had she been going downstairs for herbs and taken an opportunity to get rid of the woman who was so keen on assaulting Mothy? The woman who had insulted her so savagely. The woman who had made her shake with rage. Had she provoked Nü again?

  “It is a poor custom to speak ill of the dead,” she stiffened coldly.

  “Where were you last night after Parihaan was confided to her room?” he continued abruptly.

  Nü’s eyes widened dangerously and she looked offended, “I was on the deck watching the stars with my brothers staying out of the way. Mothy was with us for a time,” Mothy nodded with a mouth full of food, “I’d like to change the subject now.”

  “I bet you would...” Wolflock’s narrowed as he spoke under his breath.

  Mothy smiled brightly and clapped Wolflock on the shoulder a little roughly.

  “You, my good man, are a little ball of sunshine aren’t you? Come now! We’re all friends. We should rejoice that our worries and Parihaan’s are gone now and every day we draw closer to our destination. What do you think you’ll study at Mystentine? Nü, would you please pass the honey?”

  “I’d like to study the human mind and the subtle details of crime so I can solve them faster and more accurately than the Guard...” Wolflock trailed off as Nü reached over. Her sleeves pulled back on the table up to her elbows to show perfect porcelain skin. It was flawless and looked as if it was made of satin. There were no scratches. Parihaan had not draw blood from Nü. Her nails were also slightly longer than her fingertips and were completely paintless, as she always had them. There was nothing silver that Nü might touch that could have left those odd markings.

  “What of you, Mothy?” Nü asked gently, regaining her composure.

  “I’m not sure yet. I’d like to help people though.”

  Wolflock now eyed Nan Ji, his arms covered up to his hands. He’d also been infuriated with Parihaan, but was it enough to kill? He knew Nan Ji disliked women as general rule and that Parihaan had pushed him to fury. Had she done this again and incurred his anger? Nan Ji often wore fine shoes with intricate designs... would they match his sketch from earlier?

  “You could study to be a doctor,” she shrugged and smiled, “I think you would make a very good doctor. You are good with people. Very gentle.”

  Mothy blushed bright pink and fumbled the honey as he took it from Nü.

  “Oh I’m not clever enough to do medicine... Lockie? Where are you going?”

  Wolflock has risen when Nan Ji and Stra had made their way to the door, intending on following them.

  “Nonsense, Mothy,” he patted Mothy’s shoulder absentmindedly. “You’re very clever. I’ll join you later.”

  He walked quickly (“You haven’t touched your breakfast!” Mothy called after him.), trying to avoid suspicion from the other guests. He had to find a way to see Nan Ji’s shoes... And were the ones he was wearing the only ones he’d brought? Stra and Nan Ji often smoked various herbs on the forward deck all day, so he knew he’d have some time to check Nan Ji’s other pairs of shoes below.

  Leaping down the stairs, Wolflock swung around to the Nans’ room. It was larger than his own and had four bunk beds and a larger cupboard in it. All the beds were perfectly made (unlike Mothy’s) and each had a travelling trunk sitting on a shelf at the foot end.

  Acutely aware that someone may come down the stairs at any moment, Wolflock closed the door and flicked open the largest one on the bottom bunk. He was right!

  Nan Ji’s clothing sat neatly folded on top with a side compartment for papers in his native language. He carefully pulled out the clothing and sat it on the bed, keeping it tidy, to find two pairs of shoes made of fine cloth. They were embroidered with the most delicate of touches and showed various plants growing along them. They were the right size, but as Wolflock turned them over he found that they had no nails. Apparently shoes from Xiayah were stitched because they were made from fabrics, not leather. He huffed, but then saw that the intricate design of the soles still had little dots that could make the same marks as nails. Neither of these beautiful shoes had a matching pattern. This meant that if Nan Ji was the killer, he would be wearing the same shoes.

  Strong footsteps came down the stairs and Wolflock swiftly put everything back as it was when he found it and quietly closed the case.

  “But Captain, you know it doesn’t make sense. There was blood on her hand.”

  Slavidus had stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I don’t want to hear it, Slavidus. She was trouble from the start. We’re all better off believing that it was an accident caused by herself and no other.”

  “But sir it wasn’t! What if it was sinister? You can’t tell me when you left the wheel to Goden last night that you didn’t see anything! There are clear signs someone else was down there with her and didn’t report it-”

  “Enough!” Snarled Captain Blutro uncharacteristically, “I said enough. Put this out of your mind and speak of it to no one. If I hear another word of it from anyone I’ll hold you personally responsible!”

  Wolflock heard the Captain stomp down the hall before another set of light feet came down the top deck stairs.

  “But sir... that-”

  “Pardon me, Slavidus,” Veluse chimed in delightfully, squeezing passed him. “On this dreary and morose day I must have some happiness and nothing is happier than a good painting! I’ll paint a smile for us all!”

  Slavidus sighed heavily and went back upstairs as the Captain went to his cabin. Veluse could be heard singing to himself and rummaging through his powders for the right colours.

  Wolflock took his chance to slip out of the room. Veluse was at the end of the hall by Slavidus’ room and Wolflock could have easily gone back upstairs without being seen, but a thought struck him.

  “Veluse?” He asked, knocking on the artist’s door.

  “Why young Mr Felen! How are you this morning? Not too sombre I hope?” Veluse beamed with a canvas under his arm and a bucket in the other.

  “A little I suppose,” he shrugged woefully. “I was listening to you saying that painting can make you happier. Would you show me how if I helped you?”

  Veluse looked confused for merely a second before heartily laughing from his belly. “Why of course, my boy! Carry this bucket and we’ll find the perfect spot!”

  “Can I choose it?”

  Veluse winked and took his vase of brushes. “Only this one time.”

  It wasn’t long before Wolflock had requested to place himself nearer to Nan Ji and Stra as they smoked out of long straight pipes at the forward point of
the ship.

  “Now, lad, get some water with the bucket and we’ll mix up some happy paints to bring a bit of sunshine to this dark day.”

  Wolflock filled the bucket with chilly river water and brought it back, aware that Mothy and Nü were watching him secretly from where they sat with Gege and Didi playing a clapping game.

  “Good, good! Now white is what we have in abundance and is one of the most useful colours, so I want you to mix five parts water to one part of this white. We’ll be using this one a lot. Then get another bucket and we’ll mix one part blue to ten parts water. That will be the base so we can have a nice sunny day!”

  Wolflock spent a good three hours going back and forth for Veluse getting him water for his powdered paints and listening to him prattle on about brush strokes, blending and symbolism. All the while Wolflock waited like a cat ready to pounce for the right moment...

  “Now blue is a tricky colour to find, but not too rare when you know how to make it. Red is so very common. You can get it everywhere. It’s the metallic colours that are real pieces of art to find. Silver, Gold and Copper are so hard to make into good quality paints that you may as well just melt the metals onto the canvas yourself! And then of course purple...”

  “How would you make metallic paints, though?” Wolflock probed curiously.

  Veluse pinched his chin, leaving orange and blue paint on it absentmindedly.

  “Well... I haven’t used it much, but it normally is made with insect shells or metal particles. The only one I’ve seen before was from nail paint, you know? For finger nails. It takes so long to dry though, so it has to be a very well to do person who just talks and never uses their hands. That’s the only way to accomplish those perfect results. I remember this one gentleman who was obsessed with gold, Sadim, from Uluken. He lived in Corl and spent all day having his nails painted golden so he could say he had a ‘touch of gold’. Boring fat chap who even painted his lapdogs nails gold too...”

  This went on and on for what felt like an age. Just as he was listening to Veluse talking about mistakes being turned into birds, Nan Ji rose with Stra.