Page 94 of Arcane Entanglement
The Brute’s confident expression had almost made Evander throw caution to the wind and pull him back inside the study so they could play out his filthy promise.
Ginny had made an impromptu visit later that night, on her way back from dinner with Lord Fairfax. Evander had related all that had passed since their last meeting while they’d enjoyed a nightcap, being careful to omit his visit to the palace. To his relief, Ginny hadn’t probed him on the subject.
“Nightshadeis officially working with Scotland Yard?” she’d said, wide-eyed.
“Yes.”
She’d stared out the window of his study then.
Evander had followed her gaze, puzzled. “What are you looking at?”
Ginny had pursed her lips. “I’m checking for flying pigs.”
“Har-har,” Evander had grumbled.
He and Rufus approached the Occult Research department presently.
A harried-looking man in his sixties nearly collided with them outside it, his arms full of ancient tomes.
“Ah! Your Grace, Inspector.” Quentin Inkwell brightened, his owlish eyes huge behind his enchanted spectacles. “I was just coming to see you.”
“We received your message,” Evander said cautiously.
“Have you discovered what the symbols on Millbrook’s body mean?” Rufus asked without preamble.
Inkwell beamed. “Indeed I have. Please, follow me to my office.”
Surprise jolted Evander. He’d been certain the symbols had meant nothing.
The interior of Inkwell’s room was exactly what one might expect of an occult researcher’s workplace. A labyrinth of towering bookshelves, arcane symbols scrawled on paperwork scattered upon every available surface, and the perpetual scent of old parchment and magic runes.
“Come.” Inkwell dumped the tomes he’d been holding on a chair already creaking under some dozen grimoires and headed briskly for his desk in the alcove next to a window. “Let me show you my findings.”
Evander traded a wary look with Rufus. It seemed they might be about to unearth another clue that could lead them to Millbrook’s murderer.
Inkwell sat down and spread the documents on the surface of the table.
Evander studied the occult researcher’s packed handwriting. Beside them were the transcription of the runes found on the victim.
“It's quite remarkable, really,” Inkwell said. “After extensive research and cross-referencing with no less than seventeen obscure grimoires, I can say with utmost certainty that these symbols are?—”
Rufus leaned forward expectantly, his hand finding the back of Inkwell’s chair. Evander moved closer, his interest equally piqued.
“—complete and utter nonsense.”
Rufus’s hand slipped, almost sending him tumbling to the ground.
Evander blinked while the inspector cursed softly under his breath.
“I beg your pardon?”
Inkwell beamed. “Gobbledygook, your Grace. Gibberish. A magical wild goose chase, if you will.” He waved his hand at the paperwork, almost gleeful at the revelation. “Whoever carved those symbols was either woefully ignorant of true arcane script or?—”
“—deliberately trying to mislead us,” Evander finished. His tone turned flinty. “So, it was a diversion after all.”
Inkwell nodded. “Precisely, your Grace. A most cunning deception, I must say. It’s rare to see such intricate fabrication of arcane symbology. Why, if I hadn’t spent the last three decades studying obscure magical alphabets, I might never have?—”
“Thank you, Mr. Inkwell,” Evander cut in, sensing the start of a lengthy tangent. “Your insights are invaluable as always.”
