Black Iron’s Glory

The bald detective didn’t take Nuit’s boasting seriously, of course. But he didn’t think that Nuit was intentionally lying. He had seen many men like him in the military and seeking the company of women on their off days was something really common. Before he came, he knew the basic information about that lieutenant. Though he was the one who seemed to fit the bill the best, he was evidently not involved with the case.

He stepped to the desk where the leftovers were and casually looked at the things on it. His gaze stayed on the bottle of whiskey. He held the empty bottle up, smelled it, and turned it around, causing the one remaining drop within to flow to the opening and tasted it. After going over the taste in his mouth, he decided that nothing was wrong and put the bottle down dejectedly.

But in the eyes of others, he acted no different from an alcoholic would, especially with how he stuck his tongue out to taste the droplet. People mocked him in their minds and saw him as crude and unrefined for not willing to let even an empty bottle off.

“There’s something I find rather curious… Given your salary as a lieutenant, you wouldn’t buy a whiskey brewed in 571 just to have a great time with your female partner here, would you? Something like this is worth nearly 2.5 thales. It’s about the price of a month’s salary for you. It’s not the 15th yet and your paycheck’s still not out. I bet that you’re not the kind of guy to keep a bunch of savings around either, right? So where did this bottle come from then?” asked the bald man.

First Lieutenant Nuit really wanted to retort that it wasn’t the man’s business, but a look at the fierce glance of Captain Horic caused his courage to plummet.

“I got it from Claude. I happened to bump into him as he was going back and recalled that he had a carton of whiskey in his office, so I begged him to give me one,” Nuit replied, crestfallen.

The bald man walked out without a sound and the others followed behind. Nuit grabbed First Lieutenant Bjard and said, “Wait, tell me what’s going on first. What made you all barge into my place first thing in the morning?”

Perhaps because Nuit had been investigated by the bald man already and appeared to be free of suspicion, Bjard no longer held up the strict pretense. He looked around secretively and said, “Don’t you know? Somebody wore a naval lieutenant uniform and infiltrated Fux Manor, purportedly having an urgent document for Sir Fux, and killed him and his butler.

“Before the sun was up, I was roused by the mayor and brought to Fux Manor. After that, we gathered all the other lieutenants for that old man to question and had the two servants from the manor to see if they could recognize the killer. They said that a first lieutenant by the name of Abraham met them and that they would recognize how he looked. But all 17 first lieutenants from our flotilla were fine and only you spent the night out of the base yesterday, so we came over here to investigate.”

“Huh? A council member was killed? Wargod above, this is huge…” Nuit’s mouth was agape with shock.

“Well, I gotta go. It’s fine now, so you may spend the rest of the afternoon pleasantly with your little lover there,” Bjard said with a wink, “I think you also have a break today, right? If I recall, your shift starts at night. So, you have quite a bit of time. Also, we barged in just now because we didn’t have a key, so make sure to repair it. Otherwise, anyone will be able to come visit your lover…”

“Wait a second, what’s that bald old man’s job? Why haven’t I seen him at the naval base before?”

Bjard shrugged. “Beats me. I forgot his name. I think he’s a famous detective from the royal capital or something and he took the case.”

By the time Viscount Wenisk was in the carriage, he no longer cared that Nuit had embarrassed himself. He felt rather confliced. All 17 of the 18 first lieutenants were proven innocent. Theycould be proven innocent and the witnesses didn’t tag them as the killers either. They had nothing to do with the case whatsoever. Only Nuit lived outside the base last night and his suspicion was the highest.

Wenisk hoped that Nuit would be innocent, however, so that he wouldn’t be involved and dragged down by the case. He wanted to prove that the navy had been framed by someone else. But at the same time, he wanted Nuit to be the killer so that the case would be settled swiftly, lest it gave other people with vested interests an opportunity to strike.

Joseph opened the cabin door and entered, wearing his usual gloomy expression.

“Is it him?” Wenisk asked a little hesitantly.

“It’s not,” Joseph said with a shake of his head.

Wenisk breathed a sigh of relief. The detective then asked, “Who’s Claude?”

“Who? Oh, Claude?”

Joseph nodded.

Wenisk laughed. “It can’t be him. He’s only 18. Even though his father was forced by Sir Fux to jump to his death, the debt his family owes Sir Fux has been paid off in full by Maria and he no longer has anything to do with him. Because of the favor he owes her, Claude helped Maria launch Normanley Real Estate and developed the area before selling it to our navy.”

“Oh, so his father was forced to commit suicide by Sir Fux? Can you elaborate on that?” Joseph asked curiously.

“Well, I only heard it from someone else. It’s said that there were some six thousand people at his father’s funeral. Most of the townsfolk were quite dissatisfied with how Sir Fux forced Morssen to jump to his death, peasant and dignitarian included. I don’t know the details though. I’ll get Captain Horic to answer you. He’s one of the first of us to be sent to Whitestag. He should be better informed about it.”

Horic had arrived in Whitestag during the first batch of navy ships in the 3rd month. He was in charge of measuring and surveying the terrain of the docks and the lake for the plans of the naval base, and he knew much about Morssen’s suicide. He had even heard that Sir Fux entrapped Morssen with an IOU, which incurred the dissatisfaction of the townsfolk. Some were already banding together in solidarity to refuse voting for Sir Fux during the council member election next year.

Joseph’s eyes brightened as he heard about the incident. He turned to Wenisk and said, “Let’s pay Claude a visit.”

“He should be working in the office of Normanley Real Estate right now,” Wenisk said, “You don’t suspect him, do you? It can’t be him. He doesn’t look like a killer at all.”

“Let’s just pay a visit and see. Since the first lieutenants of the naval base are already cleared from suspicion, the perpetrator must be someone else close to the navy enough to understand its inner-workings. Claude has a grudge against Sir Fux and is aware of the navy’s situation. And according to Horic, he does indeed know how to fight and is a great hunter. He’s also the number-one graduate of the physical course here, so it’s no surprise he would be a great fighter. Let’s pay him a visit. Even if he isn’t the a suspect, he could provide us with some clues,” Joseph said noncommittally.

Soon, the group traveled to the three-storey office of the company. Viscount Wenisk led the detective inside with him and had the others wait outside the office. Joseph wondered why that was the case, and came to an understanding after he was told that this was the company owned by Baroness Maria.

Claude’s room was the large one furthest back in on the ground floor.

When the two entered, Claude was reprimanding a designer for foolishly getting some measurements wrong and ruining the whole drawing. The error was a missing decimal point, which the designer failed to notice, and that wasted the two days it took to produce that drawing.

Looking at Claude’s loose, brown-black hair, pale face and the shadow around his eyelids, Wenisk raised his eyebrow towards the detective. ‘See? I told you he looked completely different from the killer,’ he seemed to suggest.

Upon seeing Wenisk enter, Claude waved the designer away and welcomed the two apologetically. “It can’t be, Lord Viscount, are you here to rush me for the plans for the western sector again? You’re getting a little too impatient… I mentioned that it’d be settled after you decide where you want the brothel to be located, right? There are no other issues.

“But you still weren’t able to make that decision. How can I settle on a plan to develop that sector? Just look at my eyes. I haven’t slept well for days because of your plans…”

“Ahem…” Wenisk cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um, Claude, I didn’t come here to talk about the western sector. Actually, Detective Joseph here wants to have a word with you.”

“Detective Joseph?” Claude looked at the silent, bald man. “Talk to me? For what? It isn’t a background check before my admission into the army, is it? I don’t recall there being such a thing. Isn’t the city hall already aware of all that?”

“Um, good to see you, Claude,” Joseph said, his eyes fixed on the boy, “I have come to talk to you about Sir Fux.”

“What? Sir Fux?” His face darkened immediately as he glared at the bald man alertly. He said coldly, “Apologies, Mister, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“He forced your father to jump to his death, didn’t he? Don’t you hate him?” Joseph said, intending to provoke Claude with his words. He could see Claude’s face flush red as his veins popped on his forehead. He clenched both his fists, but he forced himself to hold back.

“I think… that you ought to leave. Don’t disturb my work.” Claude pointed at the door and motioned for the bald man to get out himself before he forced him to.

Joseph sighed in disappointment. The youth before him acted completely naturally. Either he didn’t know what just happened at all, or he was faking it. But given his age, it would indeed be hard or an act of his to fool Joseph.

“Alright. I’ll tell you something: Sir Fux was found to be murdered in his study yesterday night,” the detective hurriedly blurted after seeing that Claude was coming to chase him out. Claude froze before his eyes immediately and stared deeply into them with a look of disbelief.

What Joseph didn’t expect was that the young man would actually grab his clothes savagely and roar, “You’re shitting me, aren’t you?! That old thing isn’t dead, is he?! Who dares kill him?!”

“Claude, let go!” Wenisk bellowed, “Sir Fux really is dead. I saw it for myself.”

He lost all energy like a deflated balloon as he slowly let go of the detective’s shirt collar and slumped melancholically back to his desk. He sat down and grit his teeth hard. “How can that thing just die… Who killed him?! Ah, I had it all planned out already, but now he’s dead! F*ck… He had it easy…”

“You had what planned out?” Wenisk asked.

“Next year’s election… his status as a member of the council…” Claude hugged his head in pain. “I worked it out with Uncle Tomas to get back to that thing next year… After losing the election, I wanted to see how he could still survive in town… There are many ways to get rid of him after all, since there isn’t a lack of dirt on him. I just had to dig them out one at a time and force him to commit suicide just like he did to my father…”

“That’s savage…” Wenisk shot Claude a thumbs-up with admiration for his planned-out vendetta.