Wednesday July 4, 1349
It had only been four days since a member of the Secret Order had followed Klein home, and now he was being stalked again.
Lucky me... He couldn't help but gripe as he went through the motions of strolling from Howes Street to Iron Cross Street. There was no hint of déjà vu, except for the tingle of awareness that someone was watching him.
It did feel different to when the Secret Order member had followed him. For starters, becoming a Beyonder meant his previously enhanced sixth sense now felt like more of a baseline. Secondly, while the enemy Beyonder's gaze had felt like being stabbed by needles, the new guy's felt more like being tickled with a brush. It was just a bit annoying. Thirdly, this time he had been able to use spirit dowsing and divination to pinpoint the stalker and learn more details without needing to run to the Cathedral for help.
He had first noticed his new follower when he left for work in the morning. By the time the carriage arrived at Zouteland Street he had already divined that his new stalker had no involvement in Beyonder matters and worked as a private investigator, but that was where his information ended.
Captain Dunn's expression when he told him, "Someone is following me again," had been almost bewildered.
After Klein had shared his findings, Dunn had sighed. "That's not so surprising. We will need to confirm if this is related to the notebook, but I wouldn't hold your breath."
It had been agreed that they would put a tail on the investigator, then pay the man - and any agency he may work for - a polite visit with the police.
Klein's job was to carry on with business as usual.
In this situation if I did get a sense of déjà vu, it'd be because of my chain of followers rather than anything to do with the notebook. Fortunately I didn't have any extra-curriculars planned today... Klein's musings kept him entertained as he scrutinised discounted fruit at the market stalls.
The investigator was waiting outside my home, so it's possible that it's something to do with the property. Except Benson left for work before me, so why follow only me? Of course, that's assuming there's only one detective on whatever case this is... Bit by bit he slowly wound his way back to Daffodil Street.
The sense of being watched disappeared as he walked up to his front door, and he heaved a sigh once the door was safely closed behind him. It was the official Nighthawk's problem now. Klein turned his focus to his plans for dinner: pan-fried fish garnished with citrus slices and served with greens and poached eggs. Melissa won't mind too much if I use some spices...
--
The next day, Klein's morning commute was undisturbed. It was Rozanne's day off, so Bredt had let Klein know that Dunn wanted to see him after his morning lessons.
"We were able to confirm your divinations. He is a completely mundane private investigator called Harry Bidwell. He is already known to the police and has a good reputation. Leonard and I paid him a visit this morning." Dunn stared at Klein steadily. "Bidwell was hired to investigate you."
Why? He had suspected as much, but Klein was still taken aback. He had plenty of things to hide, but none of them should involve detectives! "Is it to do with the Antigonus family notebook?"
"You could say that," Dunn smiled wryly. "Their client suspected you of being involved in the burglary of your friend Welch's home."
Burglary... Had they thought him part of the reported 'merciless gang of criminals'? It can't be someone who knew Klein well, can it? There's no way he would ever have done such a thing... But someone who only knew of his circumstances could assume the worst. Would Welch have mentioned Klein in conversation at all, or is the pool of suspects limited to mutual acquaintances?
The original Klein's memories of University were patchy, and he struggled to recall anyone outside of his mentor's group. Unfortunately, that group consisted of Welch and Naya, who were very much dead.
His inability to remember the names of other classmates may also be thanks to purposeful inattention from the original Klein. While networking was a clear benefit of attending University, Klein's average interaction with the wealthier students had been coloured by an unmalicious disdain for the poorer members of their cohort. Klein Moretti had always stood out as the poorest, so he had faced the brunt of their morbid curiosity and was otherwise ignored outside of class discussions.
Welch had been one of the exceptions.
Klein's throat felt unexpectedly tight. "It was well-known that we were friends and Welch was well-loved. The client could be a friend of his rather than his family."
Dunn nodded. "That is our deduction as well. The McGovern's are already cooperating with the police, so it is most likely a third party.
"It seems the investigator's client was cautious enough to use a disguise and a pseudonym. We deduced from Bidwell's dreams that the client is a member of staff at one of the universities, but that is drawn from Bidwell's own assumptions and may not reflect reality."
Klein stared blankly at the corner of the desk. A member of staff? Could it be Mr Cohen, or Mr Azik? When they asked me about the murders, were they looking for signs of guilt? No, surely they would not have been able to be so candid with me if that were the case... A simple divination should confirm that they are not the clients.
He uncoiled the topaz pendulum from his left sleeve and stared down at it intently.
It spun counter-clockwise. He stilled it, focused on the next question, then after a short pause it spun counter-clockwise again.
I know the person who hired Harry Bidwell... Counter-clockwise. All negatives.
Defeated, Klein wound the pendant back up. Looking up, he met Dunn Smith's bemused gaze. He had been watching the entire attempt with raised brows. "It seems I have not met the client," Klein sighed as a form of explanation.
Dunn nodded with a wry smile. "Understandable. If they knew you, then they would not have needed Bidwell.
"Speaking of which, he has been informed of your innocence and concluded his investigation. He should report back that you're clean. We don't intend to pursue the case any further, so long as there are no repeat incidents."
Yes, with Bidwell's investigation complete it should be a non-issue. No wonder his gaze felt so mild... Still, I don't like the idea of someone suspecting me of burgling a friend. Well, why should I care for a stranger's opinion of me? I know I'm innocent. The real fear here is that the spread of this theory may not be limited to just one private investigator... Did he question anyone on my street? What about Benson and Melissa? The client must have money to spare to have hired a private investigator, so they shouldn't overlap with my social circle...
A chuckle broke him from his reverie. "Don't look so miserable," Captain Dunn soothed as he leaned back in his chair, casually re-arranging the papers on his desk. "The police will soon announce the capture of the culprits. Focus on your work for now."
"Yes, Captain," Klein sighed. It must be nice to catch imaginary culprits. If only the notebook were so easy to find...
--
At dinner that evening Klein had scrutinised Melissa and Benson for any signs of suspicion, but found none until Melissa had squinted back at him. "What? What is it? Do you have something to share?"
Uh... Isn't that accusation too quick? He let out an embarrassed chuckle. "It's the citrus slices. I used the left-overs from yesterday, and I'm trying to decide if it paired well with the lamb."
Melissa stared at him in bewilderment. "It tasted good."
Klein smiled, letting himself finally focus on the moment. "Yes, but I think it could taste better..."
When there were no obvious changes in how his neighbours or siblings looked at him, the incident faded from memory as other matters took priority. Rather than worrying about the mysterious mundane client, the issues of the missing Antigonus family notebook and mastering his new abilities were much more pressing.
Time passed, and as far as Klein and the rest of the Nighthawks were concerned, the matter was resolved.Friday July 13
With the knowledge that the Antigonus family notebook was already bound for Backlund, Klein left 36 Zouteland Street with a spring to his step. Old Neil's past prediction of a 'brand-new journey filled with sunlight' finally seemed in reach.
He was only halfway through the walk to the Shooting Club when he heard someone call out his name.
"Klein? Klein Moretti?" He halted and, with a faint tingle of premonition, turned to see an unfamiliar woman. Her hands were pinching up the sides of her dress to lift the hem as she hurried towards him.
She looked to be of a similar age to Klein and stood at average height of about 1.66 meters. The woman's dark brown hair was tucked into a bun, leaving only a few curls to frame her plain face. The dull orange dress she wore was modest, but well-tailored, and her dark grey brimmed hat was adorned with matching bows. Her handbag and the sash around her cinched waist were also a dark grey.
In short, it was the completely co-ordinated outfit of a young lady with money to spare.
"It really is you!" She smiled at him, seeming genuinely relieved. She came to a stop and self-consciously settled her skirts. "I was worried when you didn't attend the funeral."
At first he felt a bolt of panic - could this be someone from Klein's lost memories? - before it quickly settled into confusion.
The funerals were organised by the family and were traditionally invitation only, so it was only natural that Klein was not invited. The woman was obviously wealthy, so the families knowing her made more sense. Why did she think Klein would have been invited? Even Mr Cohen did not expect such a thing.
No, isn't the unreasonable thing that this woman is talking to me at all? The original Klein Moretti had been dedicated to his studies and met Welch and Naya through their shared mentor. It had only truly evolved into a friendship thanks to Welch's good nature and sheer force of personality.
Klein composed himself and smiled apologetically at her, raising his hat in greeting. "I'm terribly sorry, Miss, but you have the advantage of me."
"Oh," her smile dimmed, and a faint blush coloured her cheeks. "Yes, of course. I'm Clarice Falkner, an old friend of Naya's. We met last year?"
His eyes lit up in realisation. Ah, of course! Since we mostly interacted in lessons, Naya is involved in the most fragmented parts of Klein's memories... Perhaps those missing moments also make the mind less able to recall connected memories?
I can't recall meeting Clarice, but 'last year' is just within the timeframe of the damaged memories. Er, it could also be that she wasn't particularly memorable... It was likely just in passing. Not recognising her should not be too suspicious.
What he did recognise was the Falkner name -- they were a rich family of considerable influence within Tingen thanks to their strong ties to the two universities. He could remember reading the name embossed on Khoy University's donor placard as he'd waited outside the lecture hall.
"Then it's a pleasure to meet you again, Miss Falkner. I'm afraid I never had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with their families, so it was only natural that I was not invited to the funerals."
"Oh, I see," Clarice nodded in understanding, looking him up and down. "I'm glad to see you're looking well. You have a healthy glow about you now and your new shoes suit you."
His mouth twitched. Isn't this a harsh critique of how I looked as a student? Well, it's impolite, but it's not like she's wrong... And commenting on just my shoes? Has she recognised my old suit, or is this the effort of looking for something nice to say?
"Thank you, I'm glad to hear there is a a notable difference," his smile twisted wryly. "Graduate life has been treating me well."
The silence stretched into something distinctly awkward.
"So -"
"Would -"
Their words overlapped and Klein dipped his head, a wry smile on his face. "Ladies first."
Clarice giggled. "Thank you. I was wondering if you would be willing to talk with me about Naya and Welch. We lost them so suddenly," her words became hesitant, brows pinched in serious thought. "And there's... not many people who knew both of them. I think you saw them the most in their final days."
Klein's mind raced through the pros and cons. Does she know Klein was visiting Welch and Naya? Could Naya have mentioned the Antigonus family notebook to her?
With the notebook secured there was no need to search for hints, but Clarice may be able to help him fill in some of the gaps in his memory. Perhaps Naya dropped a hint about the ritual they performed? If she did then would that have exposed Clarice to the notebook's corruptive influence? It's not a concern that Captain Dunn has raised, and, even if Captain forgot to mention it, the other Nighthawks have used the name of the artefact quite freely...
He was instinct was to decline, but the rarity of the opportunity made him hesitate.
The things Klein could remember about Naya would fit on a post card. In his memories she was a beautiful young woman who favoured fishnet gloves. As for who she truly was, he had the impression that she had been brilliant. A quiet and focused young woman who excelled in analysis and bridging the gap between a literal translation of a text and a truly modern interpretation.
He had wanted to leave a bouquet at their graves once things calmed down, but he had yet to try and find them. Welch's was in Constant City, but Naya's should be in Tingen. Perhaps this was the chance.
Technically I'm on the clock right now... He pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. The Shooting Club and Deweyville Library would still be open for a few more hours, so it wouldn't hurt to have a short conversation. At worst he may not have enough time to visit the Divination Club before dinner.
"I... think that would be nice, thank you. I'm free now, if that's alright?"
"Now is fine. There's a café nearby that should let us talk more comfortably."
"Then please, lead the way," he gestured jovially with his free hand for her to start walking and was shocked when she stepped up to rest her hand on his forearm. *Hey now! Is this how a rich young Loen lady expects to be treated?
While it shouldn't cause anyone to clutch pearls - the hand, at least, kept a more respectable distance than if she'd boldly linked arms - it was certainly not the norm. Her fine dress contrasted starkly with his cheap formal suit and gave the impression of a servant aiding a lady on her walk. Am I to guard her from dishwater thrown from windows? I hope she does not expect me to throw my coat over any muddy puddles...
She smiled up at him brightly, not minding his obvious bewilderment. "It's right this way, Mr Moretti." She set off at a sedate stroll, back up the street and past number 36. Thankfully Rozanne does not have a good view of the street, or she'd rush out to congratulate me on finding a potential clerk so quickly.
The café she led him to was only a short distance away. It lacked obvious signage and the front of the store was dominated by a bay window framed by sparse trellises. Through the glass he could glimpse the tables and plush furnishings of the café. It was the clearest indicator of the building's purpose besides the cursive "Open" sign hung on the door.
He pulled his arm away and stepped forward to hold the door open for her. She nodded gratefully and immediately approached the waiter for a quick word. Eying the cramped interior, Klein stowed his cane in the stand by the door. He only spotted one other customer, an unremarkable woman nestled in the back corner of the room.
They were directed to the pair of seats in the bay window. On the varnished coffee table between them was a large vase of red roses, artfully arranged. It was surprisingly ostentatious and the only decoration of its like in the room. Klein's lips twitched. Miss Falkner, I think they may have the wrong idea.
Clarice Falkner was unphased as she delicately arranged herself in the chair that had its back to the wall, leaving Klein the chair that faced away from the rest of the room. She held out the menu to Klein, the waiter already waiting nearby for their order.
From just one glance at the prices, Klein immediately understood why the Blackthorn Security staff had never mentioned the café.
Rather than try to compete with Old Will's Restaurant across the road, the business focused on hot drinks and baked goods, remaining a more traditional café. From the tired décor it was evident that business wasn't booming, but even tired finery was still a notch above Zouteland Street's usual fare.
While the pricing was not extortionate - the truly wealthy tended to stay around the Golden Indus Borough - the absence of the one penny coffee option hurt Klein's wallet. His growing impression of Clarice was that of a typical self-absorbed young noble woman. Should I just leave?
"What would you like? Ah, it's my treat, since I brought you here."
"I wouldn't want to impose," Klein demurred but internally he was cheering. Miss Falkner, perhaps I have been judging you too harshly! The original Klein often turned down Welch's offers to pay out of pride, but Zhou Mingrui knew both the virtue of free food and the importance of waiting for the other party to ask a second time. Now even if there's no useful information he would still enjoy a treat!
"I must insist," Clarice smiled at him with an odd twist of her lips. "It's really no bother. Consider yourself my guest."
Yes! "Then, what would you recommend, Miss Falkner?"
"The coffee from Feynapotter is quite distinct."
He perked up, and also saw a chance to get them back on topic. "Yes, I've had it before. It was one of Welch's favourites."
Clarice smiled sadly, "Naya always preferred tea."
She waved over the waiter to order two coffees and slices of lemon cake.
"Where to start... Oh, are you alright with lemon cake? I forgot to ask."
I just ate lunch, but who am I to begrudge free cake... "Of course, I enjoy most flavours," Klein smiled reassuringly.
"What a relief."
There was an uncomfortable pause as Clarice's eyes glazed over, seemingly lost in thought.
Klein began to raise his hand to his glabella, hoping to disguise it as a nervous tick, when she stirred back to life and he abandoned the attempt.
"Where to start..." She murmured. "I was thinking we should get to know each-other better. Where did you school?"
It was a popular opening line among the upper class. Klein had encountered it before, and knew that the real question was 'did you study anywhere significant before University?'
Klein dutifully rattled off the name of the private grammar school he had attended and tried to mask his reflexive frown. Aren't we here to talk about dead friends?
"Oh," Clarice smiled with a bit too much teeth. Awkwardness, perhaps. "I went to Ivos. It's where I first met Naya."
"Ivos Public School?" It took a moment for the memory to click. "My sister's friend goes there."
A significantly more expensive institution, based on what he had heard from Melissa. Probably a well established institution for the noble and wealthy. It was not something Klein had ever looked into. His mother and Benson had been the ones to research schools once his father's compensation money came in...
"Oh, how lovely. You have a sister?"
"Yes," he couldn't help but smile. "She's only sixteen so she is still studying at Tingen Technical School."
"How exciting, I'm not familiar with anyone from a technical school," Clarice remarked as their order arrived. Klein murmured a thank you to the waiter, who shot him an odd look.
Clarice continued speaking without pause, her only acknowledgement was reaching for the knife to slice her cake into smaller pieces.
"I have five siblings myself, but I'm the youngest, so most of them have moved to Backlund or their own properties."
"Is your family from Backlund?"
"No, we're Tingen born and bred, but it's the capital. Everyone ends up there eventually." She chuckled and waited as Klein added three sugars to his drink. "Or else somewhere like Constant City, like the McGovern's."
"Welch spoke fondly of Midseashire, and especially of the food."
"Oh, infamously! Naya would sometimes talk about one of Welch's latest culinary experiments."
"Yes, he was always generous enough to share," Klein smiled down at his drink, gazing at his muddy reflection in the coffee. Yes... He was a good friend to Klein Moretti...
The bell rang as more customers entered the store. The low murmur of a man talking with the waiter was drowned out by Clarice's next words.
"I had never been to Constant City before the funeral. The sight of all those tall chimney stacks is truly striking..." Clarice sighed. "It's a shame I could not sample the food."
"Welch's funeral?" Klein blurted out dumbly. He had assumed she had only attended Naya's funeral.
She looked perplexed. "Of course."
"Ah, no, my apologies, I did not realise you had been able to attend it," he scrambled to recover, flushing red.
"Oh, we weren't close, so I understand!" She rushed in, waving a hand. "I believe his parents met mine at one of the University's galas... but Welch was very friendly. He tended to do all the talking," she stabbed her fork into a slice of cake and smiled sweetly. "I always thought that the two of you were inseparable."
"Really? Did Naya tell you that?" He blinked in surprise. It was true that he saw Welch most days, but it's not like they were glued at the hip.
"Not so plainly, although she did say you were good friends. I sometimes saw you in the rowing club and around campus."
"Ah, we were in the club together. You must have a good memory, Miss Falkner. I can barely remember the regattas, and I was competing in them," he chuckled self-deprecatingly. I can't even remember the full terms of Klein's scholarship... Did Klein compete this year...?
"That's not so surprising, it looked exhausting!"
"So you were also a student at Khoy?"
"Yes, I studied Law. I've yet to try and truly put it into practice, but it's been helpful for the family business." Clarice paused. "I thought you knew?"
Klein felt it was shameful for an evil god to have such little talent for subterfuge.
"I was so focused on my studies and preparing for my graduation defence than I'm afraid I forgot a lot of things," Klein scratched the side of his head.
There was a spark in her eye and she leaned forward. "Naya always said that Welch worked you too hard."
"What?" Klein gaped at her, completely wrong-footed. His mind tried to recall the group work they had taken part in, but he could not think of anything suspect. While the finer details were lost on him, he was still certain all three of them had pulled their weight. Welch was never ashamed to ask for help, so maybe Naya had resented this? Or perhaps... "Do you remember when she said this?"
"Oh, it was... April, I think?"
He relaxed immediately. Too early to be related to the notebook. He had not reviewed Klein's notebooks from April, but he still had a rough outline of the month in his memories. He chuckled, "April was a stressful time. Naya was always so composed, but I suppose even she must have felt the pressure then. Welch was so laid-back that it was almost concerning, but he was no slacker."
"Yes, that makes sense. I am lucky she considered me someone she could vent her feelings to," Clarice placed down her empty cup and waved over the waiter to request a refill for them both. Klein checked the time and as he turned to watch the waiter approach, he froze.
Leonard Mitchell waved his fingers at him from a table across the small room, with the Sleepless Kenley White smiling awkwardly next to him.
Klein stared blankly, unable to comprehend seeing his co-workers in the café. Was this a gathering of skivers?
Clarice was speaking again. Klein turned back around with difficulty, and took the chance to make some serious in-roads on his cake slice.
So I'm doomed to fuel office gossip after all. Aren't you two official Nighthawks? Do you have leave to do this? Well, you can thank your curiosity when you spend too much money on your lunch here...
"I suppose that's the funny thing about University. It's all so stressful at the time, but once it's over it's easy to miss those days..." Her tone dropped as she reminisced. "Were you able to see them after graduation?"
"Yes, we were collaborating on a passion project of Welch's," he said. He paused for a moment, recalling the private investigator incident from earlier in the month. Could she have been the client...? No, the suspect profile was of a man who works at the university. But she does have connections... The pieces didn't quite fit together, so he dismissed the notion. "The police said I was one of the last people to see them alive."
She clucked her tongue with a drawn-out 'oh' of sympathy. "Graduation was the last time I saw either of them, so it is now difficult for me to forget."
It seems she never even heard of the notebook...
"Oh, do you remember how Welch waved? He could be so funny."
What's funny about waving? Klein tilted his head in confusion. "...No? When was this?"
She frowned. "At the graduation ceremony. You really don't remember? During the procession he was waving to the crowd like he was royalty until you nudged him." She sighed, dreamily. "Everyone was so happy back then..."
Please, stop asking such suspicious things while my colleagues are here! Klein wanted to cry. He caught himself fidgeting with his pocket watch.
"Ah... I think I was just relieved to be graduating," he murmured as he forced a smile. "It's all a blur."
"Of course you were," she cooed soothingly, and he looked up at her sharply, not liking her tone. She still had that polite little smile, and she was watching him with knowing eyes. She hesitated before speaking again, voice low like she was approaching a wounded animal. "These past few weeks must have been difficult for you."
"I've kept busy," he answered shortly.
"You were applying for a Professor role, weren't you? Have you already started?"
"I found a different job," he smiled. "Consultancy work for a security company. It suits me very well."
"A security company? How exciting!" She pressed her palms together to emphasise her interest. "What is it like?"
"Nothing glamorous," he demurred, recalling his cover story. "It's mostly handling historical documents and identifying certain relics."
"Congratulations on your new career, then, Mr Moretti," she rose her cup in a mock toast.
The conversation continued slowly, bouncing between the two as they alternated in recalling memories of the deceased.
After a further twenty minutes passed with no sign of Clarice Falkner tiring, Klein decided to make his exit. "I'm afraid I have some business to attend to."
Her face fell. "Has it really been so long? I must have lost track of the time."
Klein, who had been surreptitiously checking his pocket watch since he finished his cake, smiled in apology.
Clarice quickly composed herself and stared at Klein with a pouty resolve. "Then Klein, may I ask you one last thing?"
Klein blinked at the sudden first-name basis. I don't dislike it, but shouldn't you have asked me first...?
Benson had been dutifully schooling him and Melissa on the expectations of the middle class, which all stemmed from emulating the upper class. (His brother was really getting his money's worth from the family magazines.) Outside of close friends and family it was expected to only use surnames, with first-name basis considered a sign of intimacy. Naturally, a difference of status - whether it was age or social class - was the exception to this.
His surprise stalled him for too long. She cleared her throat with a blush. "And, please, call me Clarice. We're no longer strangers, after all."
"Ah, if that's alright... I would not want to upset your family?" Hint, hint.
She became very animated and spoke qu