The Eighth Court (The Courts of the Feyr - By Mike Shevdon Page 0,52
the lockers just in case. It could have been for some other reason – a broken lock or a lost key – but although there were lockers that were empty and locked, only one of them had a notice on it. I went back to the locker with the sign, resting my hand over the lock. It gave a satisfying click and I pulled the door open. There was no sign or anything left there, though there were traces of fine dust on the side and base walls. I wiped my finger across it and it came away coated with glossy powder that left a grey sheen across my finger. It was the sort of powder they used to dust for fingerprints. Of course, there had been a murder and they wanted to know who else had used the locker. I searched my memory as to whether I had touched Claire’s belongings, whether I had held her bag for a moment, but I could not recall. After all, it hadn’t seemed important at the time – I’d not been expecting her to have her throat cut.
Whether they would be able to identify me from my fingerprints, or from the descriptions given by the people who’d seen me with Claire before she was killed was a moot point, in that if I was caught I was unlikely to see trial. Fortunately I was unlikely to be caught and in any case, as a Warder, I had a degree of diplomatic immunity. Like all immunities, though, it had its boundaries, and I suspected that killing people in public places was beyond them.
I crossed the reception and pressed my hand against the keypad, gaining entrance to the staff area. I had a quick walk around the ground floor and then up to each floor in succession, just in case the horseshoe had been collected as an item of curiosity on someone’s desk, waiting to be handed over. There was no hint of the iron taint that would have led me to it, though I went through each floor carefully, trying to sense the disruption it would cause.
I retraced my steps and left by the main entrance without anyone knowing I’d been there. The horseshoe had likely been taken as evidence. Perhaps it would appear on someone’s inventory: Horseshoe x 1 – Medieval. Without access to the investigation, it was impossible to know. I waited for Big Dave to circle round and caught his attention, climbing into the back and driving quietly away.
“Get what you wanted?” he asked.
“Not exactly,” I said. “I think someone got there before me.”
“Back to the courts, then?”
“Not yet. I have another place to try.” I gave him the address.
It was predictable that there would be an investigation into Claire’s death with the murder being so public. They would examine the crime scene and follow the evidence. I didn’t know enough about police-work to know whether that investigation would extend to her flat, but if there was a chance that the horseshoe would still be there, I had to check. I wasn’t looking forward to returning there. The experience last time had been enough to turn my stomach, even though I knew now that she hadn’t died there, but somehow I didn’t think it would be any easier with the knowledge that she’d had her throat cut.
Dave dropped me at the end of road and I waited until he’d gone before wrapping myself in concealment and making my way to the back of the flats. I could have tried the front, but I already knew the door was warded with the horseshoe I had come to collect. If, on the other hand, it was a crime scene, then I didn’t want to be going through the front anyway. The back entrance I had used before would serve me better in either case.
Even so, I waited some time in the shadows across from the fire escape, looking for signs of movement or people showing an interest in the flat. When I was sure it was quiet I began drawing power from the surroundings. Lights flickered in the flats in the row, and a chill wind blew down the alley. As the world faded to parchment thinness, I stepped through the intervening space and was on the balcony. I waited again, hearing the normal sounds return. The flats above me were both occupied, but this time no one crossed the fire escape between them offering candles. Perhaps the hint had been taken.