The Necromancer: Part Twelve

      "You are the prime suspect," he repeated obligingly.

      "Are you joking?" It was all Emma could manage to say. If she hadn't still been standing there, she might have thought that her heart had stopped.

      "Certainly not. I would never dream of joking about something so very serious."

      Thoughts raced through her head, faster than she could make sense of them. All she really understood was that she was being framed for a murder she had not committed. Some wishful, stupidly optimistic part of her mind had thought for a moment that Lockwood was simply mistaken, and that she could convince him of her innocence by explaining the case. But Emma had never been one to run from the truth. Lockwood knew what he was doing, had always known what he was doing. There was no need to convince him of anything; he knew exactly what had happened. "But – why are you telling me?"

      Lockwood smiled slightly, pouring her another glass of lemonade. "Because there is always a difference between feigned surprise, and true, and because there are those among us clever enough to distinguish the difference. I do not think you will ever recreate that reaction."

      She took the second glass of lemonade that he held out to her, numbly, hardly knowing what she was doing. "What evidence is there to indict me?"

      "There is a wealth of evidence," he replied, sitting back down in the chair behind the desk. "Motive - everybody knows that you transferred here because you despised Lawson. A bit of a downslide in the career ladder, wouldn't you say? In fact it is rumored that your transfer was forceable rather than voluntary..."

      Emma opened her mouth to say that this was not true, then realized that her word counted for nothing and shut it again.

      "And then, dear me, there was the way in which you conducted the investigation. All those orders you signed, preventing anybody but yourself from interviewing the parties concerned."

      "They didn't prevent you." It was a technicality, but Emma thrived on technicalities. At the moment she felt she could positively cling to them.

      "Why, yes, I suppose you have a point there - but then what work do I ever do?" he said good-humoredly. "You could be quite sure that I would not interfere with your game."

      "Very well," she conceded. "Go on."

      "As a matter of fact, you positively took charge of the entire investigation. Everything was at your disposal - papers, suspects, evidence, everything. Such excellent timing for the crime, too, just when you knew you were transferring here and would be able to control it all. And it was very clever of you to persuade me to grant you authority like that."

      Emma mulled this over in her mind. She had to admit that it all sounded quite believable. "I see. And you think everybody will accept this version of events?"

      "Everybody who matters, I would imagine. You do strike me as the type who would be capable of murder - that impression is very much in our favor. You friend Detective Chase may cause some difficulties, but given his very evident cause to dislike me, it appears unlikely to me that anybody will believe him. Still," he said in a considering tone, sipping his lemonade, "there is no sense in taking chances."

      "So this was the plan, all along." It had to be. This was no desperate, last-minute coverup; every part of this was intentional. "Was it your plan?"

      "Oh! goodness, no. That sounds like far too much work for my taste. All of the credit goes to Mr. Assander."

      The plan might have been Assander's, but it was likewise quite clear that Lockwood had been involved since the beginning. None of this could have worked without his cooperation. Everything finally clicked into place as she realized the full extent of the High Commissioner's involvement. "You," she said, with the traces of a kind of academic satisfaction. "You were the 7:00 visitor."

      "Indeed. That is to say, I made a 7:00 appointment, and requested that Mr. Lawson keep it an absolute secret."

      "Just like that? And you trusted him not to write it down anywhere, or tell anyone?" It seemed to Emma like an obvious flaw in the strategy.

      "Lawson was an unaffectedly - and may I say, rather foolishly - honest individual. Assander gave me his full assurances that he would keep his word. Events proved this to be correct."

      "What did you have against Lawson?" The only thing that she really didn't understand now was Lockwood's motive. Why risk so much to help Assander? She doubted it was due to a strong bond of mutual friendship.

      "I? Why, nothing at all. I hardly knew him; for all I know he was an excellent sort of man. To be sure, neither his manner nor his personal appearance had much to recommend him... however, generally speaking, I wished him very well." Lockwood spoke with a kind of detached affability that made it difficult to remember that they were talking about the taking of a life.

      "But still, you killed him during the 7:00 meeting."

      He looked at her with what she thought might be amusement. "Did I?" he said off-handedly. "I think you will find that shockingly difficult to prove."

      "Because nobody would think to connect you with the crime?" It was quite true that nobody would ever suspect Lockwood of having a reason to kill Lawson. On the other hand, if anybody ever did make the connection...

      "Because there are people who will vouch for my whereabouts," he replied. "Government officials, no less."

      "Hmm," she said. "Yes, if enough people are willing or coerced to lie for you, I suppose that would be quite convincing." With his influence and Assander's combined, it would not be difficult to hide the truth. It was a less than perfect solution, but still...

      "It was quite unnecessary to do any coercing. That sounds excessively tiresome. As a matter of fact, I was at a dinner - everybody saw me. Unlike you, Miss Ward, who were alone in your office."

      The same dinner as Assander, no doubt. So Lockwood could not have committed the crime himself either. "You hired somebody, then. I see. As long as their discretion can be counted on, a safe enough measure."

      Then quite suddenly, as she was trying to fit it all together in her mind, another, horrifying possibility occurred to her.

      What if they hadn't hired anyone at all? What if Lockwood had been in Lawson's office, but not at 7:00? Erica Monahan's words came, uncalled for, into her head. He sounded strange, not like himself... The location of the stab wound, coincidentally the same as where Lawson had pressed a hand against his side... The blood that had somehow gotten on the coat in the office, despite the fact that the crime was carried out on the balcony... Miss Monahan's departure just after 6:30, during Director Assander's appointment... She had seen Lawson at 6:50, spoken to him even. But what did that really mean?

      The Necromancer, she thought.

      It was almost as though Lockwood could read her thoughts. "You understand now, do you not?" he said almost gently. "There will never be any evidence to link either of us to Lawson's death. There was only ever one piece, and now..." He casually held Lawson's report on Internal Affairs to the flame of the lamp on his desk, and Emma watched it burn to ashes. "Now there is none. Nevertheless, the mystery has been solved." He smiled, a smile without satisfaction or even amusement - a smile as empty as his eyes. "The truth is what you make of it, Miss Ward."

      "And this truth you've constructed," she said flatly, "what was in it for you?"

      "What is ever in anything for anybody?" he said with such careless coldness that she wondered how Nick could ever have underestimated him.

      "I see," she said. There seemed nothing else to say.

      "It is regrettable that you had to be a pawn in our game - though if it is any comfort, you could hardly have played your part in more exemplary fashion. In fact, you far outstripped our expectations. I am extraordinarily impressed by how much you managed to deduce in such a short time. Truly, I am rather sorry that you will have to take the fall for it."

      "No, you're not," she said.

      Lockwood didn't bother to deny it.

      Once she could manage it, Emma decided, she would stand up. There was no sense in lingering here, and she was determined that he would not see her crumble. Her composure was all she had left.

     ***

     A Darigan Lenny in a brown coat and a Shadow Gelert in a white cravat stood together at the top of a high tower, looking down on the bleak greys and blacks of the Darigan Citadel. It was raining softly, and the clouds cast an odd purple light on everything under them.

      "I guess that wraps that up," said Assander. "Emma Ward, you can keep her quiet?"

      "Naturally."

      "And that detective you had a fight with? That's a mad Drackonack you unleashed - you're going to have to take care of him."

      "Oh! the simplest thing in the world. Measures will be taken, I assure you."

      There was a silence. Then Assander shrugged. "Well, it seems to me that no one can carry out a crime quite like a High Commissioner. Good job, Lockwood. You've certainly fulfilled your end of the bargain."

      "Indeed," he replied.

      "Well then," said Assander, fishing something out of his pocket, "I'd better fulfill mine. Here it is. It was hidden away in our department's basement, I don't think anyone's touched it for years. Confiscated from one of Kass's right-hand men after the wars."

      The item he held out to Lockwood was a silver-white ring, set with a stone so oddly dark it looked like a circle of pure shadow. It was beautiful, and yet there was something unsettling about the way it interacted with its environment. Assander's hand, as he held it out, seemed almost to bend and distort. He gave an involuntary shiver as Lockwood took it from him. "There you are. I'm happy to get rid of it, frankly."

      "And I," said Lockwood, staring at the ring with a most peculiar look of fascination in his grey eyes, "am happy to have it. Most happy."

The End