Joel walked up to them. Melody sat in the tree. He heard her sigh dramatically.
“Bad idea?” she called down to him.
“You could say that,” he replied.
* * *
“You will explain yourself,” Harding said, standing with hands on hips.
Melody grimaced, sitting in a chair in the mansion’s kitchen, her white skirt dirtied from climbing the tree. To the side, one of the police officers meticulously wound the gears in his rifle. The clicking sounds rang in the small kitchen.
“Is that really necessary?” Fitch asked, glancing at the gun.
“Please do not interrupt, Professor,” Harding said. “You may understand Rithmatic study, but I understand spies.”
“I’m not a spy!” Melody said. Then she paused. “Well, okay, yeah. I’m a spy. But only for myself.”
“And what interest do you have in this operation?” Harding asked, placing his hands behind his back, walking in a slow circle around Melody. “What did you have to do with the deaths?”
She shot a glance at Joel, and he could see that she finally seemed to be realizing just how much trouble she might be in. “I didn’t have anything to do with that! I’m just a student.”
“You’re a Rithmatist,” Harding said. “These crimes were committed by a Rithmatist.”
“So?” Melody said. “There are a lot of Rithmatists in the area.”
“You have shown a persistent, undeniable interest in this investigation,” Harding said.
“I’m curious!” Melody said. “Everybody else gets to hear what is going on. Why not me?”
“No questions from you,” Harding said. “Do you realize that I have the power to imprison you until this investigation is over? Do you realize that you are now our prime suspect for having caused the murders?”
She paled.
“Inspector,” Joel said. “Could I … talk to you? Outside, maybe?”
Harding eyed Joel, then nodded. The two of them left by the side doors and went a little ways down, where they could speak in private.
“We’ll go back in a few minutes,” Harding said. “It’ll be good for her to sweat a bit.”
“Inspector,” Joel said, “Melody isn’t behind the murders or the kidnappings. Trust me.”
“Yes,” Harding said. “I suspect that you are right, Joel. However, I have to pursue every lead. That young woman puts me on edge. Makes me suspicious.”
“She puts a lot of us on edge,” Joel said. “But that doesn’t mean she’s the Scribbler. I mean, it’s obvious how she got here. She saw us leave Armedius, and everyone knows who it was that got kidnapped. I can vouch for her.”
“Are you absolutely sure you know her, Joel?” Harding asked. “How can you be sure she’s not fooling you? Part of me keeps worrying that the person behind this is hiding right in front of us, moving about Armedius itself. It would be the best place for a Rithmatist to hide without looking suspicious.”
Like Nalizar? Joel thought. He left his rooms last night, going somewhere.
But, then, how well did Joel know Melody? Could her silliness and friendship all be an act? Harding’s suspicion got to Joel for just a moment. He realized he knew very little about Melody’s past, or why her family didn’t seem to care about what happened to her.
She was also genuine. She didn’t hide her feelings—she belted them out, trumpeted them. She was straightforward with him. With everyone, it seemed.
And, he realized, he liked that about her.
“No,” Joel said. “It’s not her, Inspector.”
“Well, a vote of faith from you means a lot, in my estimation.”
“You’ll let her go, then?”
“After just a few more questions,” Harding said, walking back toward the kitchen. Joel followed.
“All right,” Harding said, entering. “Joel has vouched for you, young lady, and that makes me more likely to listen to what you have to say. But you are still in serious trouble. Answer my questions, and perhaps I won’t have to bring charges against you.”
She glanced at Joel. “What questions?”
“My men reported that you sent a chalkling all the way to the building,” Harding said. “How in the name of the Master did you manage such a thing?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just did.”
“Dear,” Fitch said, “I know many of the most skilled Rithmatists in the world. The string of glyphs you’d need to use in order to instruct a chalkling to cross that distance, climb the stairs, then go to the room … Why, that list would be incredible! I had no idea you had that kind of ability.”
“What was the point?” Harding asked. “Why make a chalkling go all that way, then come back? Were you trying to get caught?”