“So let’s split up. Carlo and I will head back to the body and see if we can find anything; you lot go investigate the victim’s relationships,” Sak proposed.
“All right, let’s do that. Miss Cat, come with us—maybe you’ll spot something.” Aisha looked toward Berti.
“I only wanted to find the little girl I saw last night…” Berti looked rather reluctant, but still walked over to Aisha’s side.
Everyone walked out of the station.
“Hold on a moment, I’ll grab a cab.”
“Get lost!” ×4
Wearing a thoroughly unwilling face, Mir walked to Locke Street with them.
Aisha waved a few officers over.
“Bring in the people who’ve had close contact with Ana recently.”
The officers nodded, and before long they’d brought over three people.
The three were two women and a man.
The man was a middle-aged gentleman with a goatee, dressed in a black suit and a black top hat, gripping a gold-inlaid cane.
He stood ramrod straight, chin raised, looking down at them all haughtily.
Of the two women, one wore a revealing white gown, as if she’d just come from a banquet thrown by high society—great swaths of skin on display, her face heavily made up, the very picture of a brazen social climber.
This woman was reluctantly escorted before Aisha, shooting glares at the officers beside her every so often.
The last was a girl who looked to be under twenty, dressed far less lavishly than the other two, tear-tracks still on her face as though she’d just been crying.
The girl looked timidly at Aisha, so pitiable you’d want to pull her into your arms and comfort her.
“Many people had close contact with the victim.
We narrowed the list down and felt these three were the closest to the deceased, and all three carry a mana signature.”
Aisha nodded and said gravely to the three, “From here on, I’ll ask and you’ll answer.
We have a professional Hypnotist here, so don’t think you can get by us with lies.”
“Are you kidding?
Since when do the police get to disrespect people’s privacy?!” The socialite shot Aisha an indignant glare.
The middle-aged gentleman beside her didn’t react too visibly, though his manner seemed just as displeased with the interrogation.
And the last girl still looked at Aisha timidly.
Aisha waved a hand and said firmly, “Please understand—after all, we’re doing this to catch a criminal. If you won’t cooperate, then there’s nothing we can do…”
The fishmonger: …
The timid girl shrank her neck back in fear, and the other two fell into stony-faced silence.
“You have the right to remain silent, but I’ll beat you half to death.” Mir cracked his knuckles, threatening.
The three were successfully scared out of their wits.
This girl looked so pretty, yet acted so savage!
“At the very least you should find a room and question us separately…” the socialite muttered under her breath.
“Relax, madam. I’m sure this officer has her own reasons.” The middle-aged gentleman soothed her.
“Very good. Then let’s start with you, sir.” Aisha took out paper and pen.
“Your identity, and your relationship with the deceased?”
On the surface Aisha was perfectly composed; inside she was mortified as hell.
This was hardly the moment to blurt out something like, “I forgot, so let’s just find a room and question you separately.”
“My name is Luther, a minor noble. Good afternoon, madam.” The middle-aged gentleman doffed his hat and gave Aisha a bow.
“Ana once borrowed a large sum from me to open her clothing shop.
Not long ago we had a dispute over it, but that’s hardly reason enough for me to commit murder.”
Aisha nodded expressionlessly, wrote something on the paper, then continued, “And how did the mana signature on your person come about?”
“That would be its doing, madam.” Luther fished out a blue crystal pendant from around his neck.
“This was passed down from my grandfather. It’s inscribed with a blessing spell formula. As for what it does, forgive me—I can’t answer that.”
Xia Ye quietly took out her own communication crystal.
“This thing is a magical creation too, isn’t it?
Would it also test positive for a mana signature?”
“The mana signature on this kind of civilian household magic item is too faint to register,” Mir answered helpfully.
The cat-eared girl beside them shot Xia Ye an odd look, but at a moment like this still said nothing.
Aisha studied the crystal pendant carefully but didn’t press further.
Sometimes pushing too hard would anger these people—though the necessary tests still had to be done.
“May we use a device to test the type of spell formula on your pendant? It won’t reveal what it does.”
Based on the current leads, the culprit had used some means of concealing their true appearance, which should have nothing to do with a blessing.
Luther hesitated, but agreed.
“Of course. That’s your right.”
The compass was etched with a complex circular spell formula.
The instant the pendant was set on it, the formula flared with white light.
Seeing the white light, Aisha gave a slight nod, took the pendant off, and handed it back to Luther.
“It is indeed a blessing spell formula.”
Luther took the pendant and carefully put it back around his neck.
“Now then, it’s your turn, madam.” Aisha turned to the socialite.
“Your identity, your relationship with the victim, and the mana signature on your person?”
“I’ve been dragged here by your people since first thing this morning, kept waiting in a place like this all this time—who do you people think you are?!”
Her attitude was foul.
“Do you know who my godfather is?
My godfather is the mayor!
You dare treat me like this, watch out or you’ll lose your jobs!”
“Wow!
This woman is so nasty and mean!” Berti said, blunt as ever, riling the socialite up something fierce.
“Miss, our wages are handled by the Royal Capital’s central headquarters. The mayor isn’t in a position to cost us our jobs directly. So please cooperate with our investigation, or we won’t be so polite.”
Hearing Aisha’s words, Mir fixed the socialite with a fierce, eager glare.
Does this mean I get to hit someone now?
The socialite was frightened by his vicious glare.
“Fine, I get it. I’ll tell my godfather exactly what you people did today!”
She took a deep breath.
“My name is Jela, director of the Electric Power Bureau. I’m a regular customer of this clothing shop. Not long ago I got into a dispute with the owner over the quality of a garment—this swindler actually said a gown only needs to be worn once!” At this point, Jela’s heavily made-up face twisted.
“So, what’s the deal with the mana signature on you?” Mir disliked people who wouldn’t get to the point—though he often did the same himself.
Jela looked at Mir a little fearfully, but some inexplicable courage still propped her up.
“That’s my privacy! Privacy—do you understand?!”
Mir narrowed his eyes.
“Socia—madam, you’re making this very hard for us.”
Jela backed up two steps in fear, but still stubbornly said nothing.