The only thing that broke the silence after that statement was the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece, and the crackling of the fire underneath it.
Both men stared at each other.
"I was told that my brother died in the line of duty?" Remus said, echoing the official version that was given to the public.
"Yes." Eric nodded, a little too animatedly. It wasn’t quite guilt. It seemed to be fear.
’Obviously he wasn’t the architect of the ritual, merely a witness. I’m sure it scared him to the core.’ Remus thought. He also knew this man wouldn’t tell the truth.
Firstly, who would believe him?
Secondly, it would destroy his entire life, considering who else was in that room on that day.
So what exactly was his angle here? Atonement through lies?
"Yes." Eric continued. "He died defending the Kingdom. With his eyes open. He was a brave man."
Remus noticed the slight tremor in his guest’s hand on his teacup.
"I am not allowed to speak of it fully. It is sealed by the King and Queen. But. I just wanted to convey that his sacrifice was worth it."
’What a bold play on words.’ Remus thought with amusement, noting the slight shake of the man’s eyes on the word sacrifice. It was small, but it was there.
Eric droned about how wonderful Alec was, what a great Knight he was.
Remus had tuned him out, his mind plotting out different ways he could just kill this scumbag here and now. But it wouldn’t be satisfying, just a quick, shameless release.
He concocted at least two, perhaps three schemes in which he could get away with it without involving Ms. Harrow’s attention.
But again, that satisfaction would have a fast expiry. This bastard didn’t merely sign off on the notion of sacrificing him to demons.
He stood by and watched.
He wasn’t shocked.
He was mentally prepared.
He knew in advance.
The supposed ’friend’ who was singing Alec’s praises right now in front of him.
"Thank you for your kind words, Eric," Remus eventually said when the praising drivel had ended. "If I may ask, though, you seem a bit pale. Are you alright?"
Eric gave a small laugh, dismissing the issue with a wave of his hand.
"No, no. Just not much sleep. I had to get up early this morning. I had to go to a station to speak to the City Guards on a matter."
"Oh? I do hope everything is alright."
"Yes, it is. I own a few buildings, you see. I rent them out. Apparently one of my tenants was running an illegal scheme that the City Guard put a stop to. They brought me in for some questions on the tenant."
Eric spoke easily, but there was a strain in his eyes that was unmistakable if you knew what to look for.
"That sounds awful." Remus sympathised, setting his cup down. "A risk of renting out, I imagine?"
"Yes. Always a gamble. But people are normally good in these matters. Looking to live or run legitimate businesses. A bad egg is not common, but they exist."
"It would seem you would need to thoroughly vet what is in front of you." Remus smiled playfully.
"Quite right!" Eric agreed with a laugh. He lifted his cup and drained the contents before standing up.
"Well, thank you for your hospitality, Remus. I came to say what I needed to."
Remus also stood, holding out his hand in thanks.
Eric shook his hand, while also taking out what seemed to be a business card from his coat pocket.
"Here, if you need anything at all. Call on me. You can find me here."
Remus accepted the card, glancing at it with a smile. "Thank you, Eric, truly."
Both Ms. Harrow and Remus saw him out, closing the door behind him.
"A skittish man, oily," Ms. Harrow declared quietly, watching Eric walk off down the street.
Remus turned to her, raising a brow in question. "You don’t like him?"
"I don’t know him. Just the first impression. He drinks his tea well, though."
"Is that all it takes with you, Ms. Harrow?" He sighed.
The old woman turned to him, glaring up with concern. "Social skills are important, Master Remus. You would do well to remember this, or you’ll never find yourself a good wife!"
She tutted at this crime, turned, and retreated back to the kitchen.
Remus just glanced wearily after her.
’Only back a few days and she is already on my case.’
Inspector Plut was surveying the scene like the hundreds before him.
A dingy room with a corpse.
Thankfully it was only one today.
Plut was a thin and short man, going on in years. The inspector was smartly dressed, but the suit and hat were slightly worn, as if he had slept in them recently. A thick black mustache made him recognizable from a distance, accompanied by a cigarette that may as well have been permanently attached to his face.
The room was especially dingy.
A moldy bed, an unclasped chain bolted to the wall.
And a body on the floor.
The gentleman had a crushed leg, likely magical damage, as there didn’t seem to be any weapon marks.
Plut just gazed lazily at the body, his smoke bordering his vision.
Others were working around him in the cramped room, all over the ’Punch House’. They were documenting the scene, checking for other signs of foul play. Taking pictures of anything and everything with their large cameras.
The inspector had interviewed all the children briefly, not wanting to pressure them this early after escaping imprisonment and torture.
But he learned enough to know that the bastard lying dead before him was no one to weep over.
His partner, Junior Inspector Thomas, was crouched down, eyeing the body’s leg with a magnifying glass.
"What do you think, Sir? Magic did this damage? It’s like someone squashed it like a soup can," Thomas asked, looking up to Plut.
Plut just exhaled more smoke, which was good enough for an affirmative nod.
"The medic said Mr. Blink had a broken finger as well..." Thomas continued quietly, moving the magnifying glass over to the corpse’s hand. "Clean break too."
Two more guards appeared at the room’s doorway, eyeing the inspector.
"Sir, we need to move the body to the Morgue, so they can do the internal inspection."
Plut nodded, giving the go-ahead.
Thomas got up from the floor and gave the men room to lift the body.
Plut, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the corpse since coming into the room, watched as the guards went to each side and carefully lifted the body.
As they gently lifted him up, not even a small distance from the floor, Plut’s eyes sharpened.
A small line of white appeared from the side of the body.
"Stop." Plut barked suddenly.
Everyone in the room froze, including the guards with the barely lifted corpse.
"Set it back down. Gently. Then step away." Plut ordered quietly, his voice heavy.
The guards complied, slowly setting the corpse back to the ground as they found it, and stepped backwards.
"Everyone. Out." Plut commanded, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.
"Thomas, go call the mage back. There is a glyph underneath Mr. Blink’s body."