Chapter 3

'So you're sure the fire was suspicious?' Turi nodded affirmatively, raking her brain for possible motives behind the incident. The new recruits were called Bragoldir and Baimeldir, Bra and Bam for short, or possibly Dir and Dir. Turi hadn't decided yet.

They were young-ish indeed, in elven terms, and had no formal training. Nor did they seem to possess very strong analytic or reasoning skills.

The two watched her pace up and down the office, seemingly impressed with her powers of deduction. She could feel their eyes pricking in her back as she continued her train of thought out loud.

'First, a house fire inside the walls at this time of year is very rare.' She faced them. 'Second, the residence belongs to Duvainor, a rich trader who was' she made the quote sign ''unpopular' for selling off elven heirlooms to humans.'

'Yeah,' one of the Dirs cut in. 'He caused quite an uproar last year selling that antique jewellery.' The other Dir nodded pensively. 'He's also quite a rich snob.'

'He's also quite dead' Turi cut in. The trader had been found burned to a crisp in one of the upstairs bedrooms. 'Well,' Bragoldir started 'he could have been asleep?' 'Tell me something I can believe' Turi said. 'We found his wrists had pink fine lines from where he was bound.'

She tried to force the sickening memory of the burned body from her mind. Going to the mortuary, dealing with real victims, this was all so new and overwhelming for her. She scrunched up her face in thought, trying to keep her composure. It made her freckles look like a star had just burst across her nose in little brown specks.

'And then of course there's this' she pointed to a scroll on her desk. 'That came out of that building?!' Bra and Bam ogled the scroll in surprise. 'Not quite' Turi said, rolling her eyes. 'It's a message that was nailed to a tree around the back of the house.

They crowded around the scroll as Turi rolled it open onto the desk. It read:

Alae! - behold! This is what happens to those who live like rich swine and don't honour elvish lore. Amarth faeg! - evil faith! Tolo, govano ven - come, join us. The cat returns.

The Dirs gaped at the note, their mouths ajar. 'I know what you mean' Turi said. There were no fingerprints, no one had signed the note, nor were there any other visible clues.

'So we have a fire that was set, a rich trader selling off elven heritage' Turi looked from one to the other. 'And a cryptic message about a cat' Baimeldir finished her sentence, letting his voice trail off.

They all stared at the scroll for a while longer without speaking another word.

'Who set the fire?' Turi rhetorically asked, trying to imagine what her ex-partner Taryan would say or do next. In her mind's eye, he flashed her a knowing smile but didn't speak.

'Or perhaps we should ask: who was looking at the fire?' Baimeldir suggested. With a dramatic gesture, Bragoldir produced a scroll. 'We made a list.'

Now it was Turi's turn to be impressed. With a self-satisfied look on their faces the Dirs backed away to let her scan the names and descriptions of bystanders.

'The female elf I almost ran in to' Turi stared at the list. 'She's not here.'

The Dirs' expression of smugness was replaced with a puzzled look. 'She was wearing a green cape, and a hood' she thought deeply, but failed to recall much else. Turi looked at her confused team members, their minds scrambling to understand why this was important. 'I remember seeing strands of brown hair.'

Turi shivered even though she wasn't cold. 'She's not here because she never came back. She set the fire.'