The Case of the Missing Acara

     "And who are you?" The Mutant Chomby behind the roughly hewn wooden counter glowered at me. Behind her, rows of vials and bottles were stacked neatly on shelves starting from the floorboards and rising to the ceiling. The room was small and dimly lit. Behind the Chomby was a doorway; it was nearly obscured by her towering form.

     I glanced at Edward, who was grinning, and steadfastly refusing to make eye contact.

     "I said who are you?" the Chomby demanded, slamming a hand on the counter, causing the hundreds of glass bottles behind her to quiver precariously. "I don’t allow strangers in my shop. If you’re not from around here, get out."

     Fyora’s Crown. Edward surely knew the shopkeeper held this particular policy, and found the situation humorous based on his poorly concealed mirth. The conniving Blue Quiggle was trying to pay me back for suggesting he wouldn’t approach this situation with tact.

     I cast him a pleading look. This wasn’t the time for his usual antics. Edward heroically wiped the grin off his face, eyes still glinting, and seized me by the shoulders.

     "Not to worry, Alberta," he said to the Chomby, then turned toward me and beamed. "This is Ada, my new best friend," he announced.

     I bit back a frown.

     "Hi," I said. "I was hoping I could get a quote on a few potions."

     Alberta eyed me suspiciously. I smiled politely, awaiting her judgement.

     "I don’t like the look of you," she announced finally. "But if you’re a friend of Edward’s, you can shop here."

     "Thank you," I said, stepping up to the counter. The Chomby kept her gaze trained on me, but mine was searching the room, looking for bottles reminiscent of the one we’d discovered by the stream.

     "What are you looking for?" grunted Alberta.

     I rested my hands on the counter. "Would you happen to have any healing potions available?"

     Alberta nodded, then bent and heaved a crate out from beneath the counter. She withdrew a long glass vial. It wasn’t the right shape.

     "And how much are those?" I asked.

     "Five hundred neopoints."

     "I see. What about morphing potions?"

          I felt Edward move at my side, surprised by the question. I shook my head almost imperceptibly, signalling him to remain quiet.

     Alberta frowned, crossing her thick arms over her chest. "I don’t keep those stocked, I brew ‘em by request. Takes about a month."

     My breath caught in my chest – we were approaching the crux of the matter now – but when I spoke, my voice was even. "Would you be able to give me a quote on a Pirate Aisha Morphing Potion?"

     Alberta grimaced. "Looking to make a change? Good. Transparent pets give me the creeps. Blumaroos especially." With that, she turned, her tail swinging behind her, and retreated into the backroom.

     Edward stepped up to the counter. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "We’re meant to be looking for similar bottles."

     I shook my head, whispering back. "No. None of the ones behind the counter match. It must be something special."

     "Well, why are you getting a quote for a Pirate Aisha morphing potion?"

     The heavy thud of Alberta’s footsteps heralded her return. I stepped away from Edward. His question hung in the air, unanswered.

     "I checked the recipe. Price of the herbs I need for that is down this year so that’d be three thousand neopoints. You could pick it up in a month."

     "Hm," I lowered my head, tapping the counter as I pretended to consider this. The span of a few breaths passed before I looked up. I could sense Edward’s restless agitation as he fidgeted beside me; he didn’t know what I was up to.

     I steeled my nerves, clasping my hands before me, and smiled.

     "What about a Red Grarrl morphing potion?"

     "That’d be five thousand neopoints," Alberta responded easily. "It’ll take about a month as well."

     Edward let out a harsh breath, nearly taking an involuntary step back. My hand shot out, gripping his sleeve and steadying him.

     I nodded politely to Alberta. "Thank you. I’ll consider my options and return if interested."

     Alberta grunted and retreated to the backroom.

     My hand still gripping Edward’s sleeve, I navigated him out of the store. We stepped into the afternoon sunlight.

     Edward sagged against the building, eyes wide.

     "Ada," he said, "do you realize what this means? Fyora’s Crown – I mean, do you realize what this – " He broke off.

     "Yes," I said.

     "It means that…"

     I waited for Edward to collect himself

     "She didn’t have to check the price!" he burst out.

     I nodded. "Alberta checked the price for the Aisha morphing potion, but not the Red Grarrl one. She knew it already."

     "Because she’d checked it recently," Edward murmured.

     I nodded, enjoying watching him put the pieces together.

     "And it takes a month," Edward continued. "Belle was here a month ago – or at least, a Green Acara was." Edward let out a harsh breath. "It cost five thousand neopoints. That’s how much was missing. So, when Sophie arrived in the middle of the night after stopping at the apothecary on her way here from the bank…she was hiding the fact that..."

     His eyes grew wide. "But why? Why did she do all this? Why hire a private investigator? And – and how did you know?"

     I smiled. "Time for one last stop. We’re going to visit the place where this whole charade began."

     Edward looked at me askance. "Where’s that?"

     "The bank."

     ~

     Late in the evening as the sun dipped below the horizon, I sat in Martha’s parlour. The Elderly Acara had, as always, provided a pot of tea, which sat on the tea table before me. A pile of papers was next to me on the settee as I awaited Sophie’s arrival. Martha had left not five minutes past, promising the fetch the Red Grarrl. She had, with her usual enthusiasm, inquired about updates on the case, but I had held my tongue.

     Sophie entered the room, dressed in a shimmering pink gown, an elegant hat adorned with berries tilted atop her head. "Ada," she said, beaming at me through a watery smile. "Martha said you asked for me. How is the investigation going?" She made her way to the sofa across from me and sat, smoothing her dress.

     "I believe my investigation has concluded, Sophie."

     "What?" she gasped, half-rising to her feet. The table between us jerked as her knee caught the edge. The teapot sitting on it shook.

     "Please," I said. "Sit. I’ll explain."

     Tears filled Sophie’s eyes. "Of course," she said. "But please tell me you were wrong – Belle isn’t a criminal – she’s the victim here."

     I frowned. "I’m sorry, Sophie. All the evidence pointed toward my theory, but Belle didn’t show up last night. I’ve exhausted every avenue, and will have to conclude my investigation. I still feel that my initial hypothesis is correct – that Belle set you up as an easy mark to rob – but she either changed her mind and is on the run, or is biding her time. In any case, I would suggest you procure some protection, but my work here is done."

     "No!" Sophie sobbed. "I refuse to believe it. She would never betray me."

     I reached out, and set my hand atop hers. "I really am sorry, Sophie, but I don’t know how much more assistance I can provide." I paused, taking a deep breath. "There’s one other matter I’d like to discuss with you before I go."

     Sophie dashed away her tears. I poured her a cup of tea and extended it. She took it and gulped it down.

     "Very well," she said. "What is it?"

     "I visited the bank earlier today," I said.

     Nothing in her expression altered. I raised my cup of tea to my lips, concealing a smile, took a sip, and set it down.

     "I wanted to make some inquiries to confirm Belle’s last whereabouts. It was as you said – she visited the bank to procure her half of the funds this week. The bank, it turned out, was also quite interested in her location. It seems she’s missed the first interest payment."

     Still no reaction. Sophie took another sip of her tea. A tear tracked down her face.

     "It seems fifty thousand neopoints was the maximum line of credit the bank was willing to offer her. If her plan was to rob you, then she intended to secure double that amount, then run."

     I paused. "Now, you or me – we could do quite a lot with one hundred thousand neopoints. Travel Neopia. Start a business. Buy a NeoHome. But to the bank, that sum of money is nothing. If they’re unable to collect interest on loans smaller than one hundred thousand neopoints, their policy is to hire someone to look into the matter – a debt collector or private investigator – then write off the loan if it’s too difficult to collect. I believe they have some sort of favourable arrangement set up with the Tax Beast."

     "Why are you telling me this?" Sophie asked, speaking at last.

     "I understand that you won’t be paying me for my work here, since I was unable to locate Belle or explicitly confirm the reason behind her disappearance. But I’d like to submit my notes regarding this investigation to the bank and claim their reward so that they can write off the loan, and I can receive some compensation for my work across the past few days."

     I set my hand down upon the stack of papers beside me. "These are my notes. I can submit them to the bank, and if sufficient, they’ll pay me a small fee. Would you be amenable to that?"

     Sophie’s lips quivered. "And then they’ll stop looking for Belle? No! I’ll pay another private investigator. The bank should keep looking too. Belle would never disappear on purpose. I don’t – I don’t approve of this.

     I folded my hands in my lap. "Is that what you really want, though? To keep looking for Belle?"

     "W-what do you mean?" Sophie hiccupped, wiping her eyes.

     "Do you really want to go through this charade again?"

     Sophie froze, lowering her arms to her sides, blinking furiously.

     I smiled.

     And then it happened.

     She unfolded before me; her shuttered eyes opening wide, drooping spine uncurving to greet the world with her head held high, and a devilish grin twisting lips that moment ago had been caught on a sob.

     "Oh, you know – you know! But how?" she breathed, murmuring to herself.

     I felt a thrill race through me; a trio of butterflies strike up an impromptu dance in the pit of my stomach. My opponent sat before me, unmasked at last.

     And I had won.

     Mostly.

     I took a moment, mentally acquainting myself with this stranger that both was and wasn't Sophie.

     "You should know that there are Thieves Guild operatives outside the lodging house right now, guarding the exits. Edward summoned them."

     The Grarrl before me let out a sharp laugh, eyes flitting to meet mine. "I would expect nothing less. But how – how do you know?"

     I took a deep breath, and shook my head, savouring the moment. I would reveal all at my own pace.

     "Edward, Martha," I called. "Please enter the room. There's someone I'd like you both to meet.'

     "Quite theatric, aren't you?" the Grarrl tutted.

     "This calls for it, don't you think?" I arched a brow.

     Edward came crashing through the door a moment later, with Martha following primly behind him, her paws twisted in her skirts.

     "Thank you both for coming," I said, rising to my feet. I turned, waving to the Red Grarrl seated on the sofa. "I'd like to introduce the two of you to Belle."

     To be continued…